“Why—Yes, to be sure, Countess,” said the much embarrassed governor.
“Did you find proofs that he was concerned in the conspiracy among the miners?”
The general involuntarily exclaimed, “Noble lady, he is innocent.”
He stopped short, for he knew that he had uttered the conviction of his heart, not of his head.
“He is innocent!” repeated the countess, with a look of consternation and incredulity; for she trembled lest Schumacker had really proved to the governor the innocence which it was so much to the chancellor’s interest to deny.
The governor had had time to reflect; he answered the persistent gentlewoman in a tone which quieted her fears, for it revealed his doubt and anxiety.
“Innocent—Yes, if you choose—”
“If I choose, General!” And the wicked woman laughed aloud.
Her laughter offended the governor, who said, “By your leave, Countess, I will report my interview with the ex-chancellor to the viceroy.” Then he bowed low, and went down to the courtyard, where his carriage awaited him.
“Yes,” said Countess d’Ahlefeld, as she returned to her rooms; “go, my knight-errant, for your absence rids us of the protector of our enemies. Go; for your departure is the signal for my Frederic’s return. I wonder how you dared to send the handsomest young man in Copenhagen to those horrid mountains! Luckily, it will be easy enough now for me to have him recalled.”