The road before her was dark and lonely; the men who had hastened to the rescue, were out of sight long ago.
She actually flew; she felt no fear in the gloomy wood; she saw nothing but the dear old burning house, and a pair of manly eyes--once, ah, once so inexpressibly dear. Something came pattering behind her. Ah, yes--the dog.
"Come," she murmured, and hurried on, the sagacious animal close behind her.
CHAPTER XX.
It was a long way to Niendorf, but Gertrude flew as if she had wings.
"Good Heavens!" she groaned as she reached the top of the hill and saw the red glow in the sky. Faster and faster she rushed down the hill; at the next turn she must see Niendorf--and at last she stood there, breathing quick and loud, her eyes gazing with terror into the valley. Thank God! The red smoke was still rising into the sky, the flames still shot up here and there, but the force of the fire was broken. It is true, shouts and cries still sounded in her ears, but already she met men who were going home.
She moved aside into the deepest shadow and gazed down into the valley; the old house stood there safe and sound, the red light of the dying flames played about its green ivy-wreathed gables and lighted up the shrubs in the garden. The barns were in ruins to be sure, but what mattered that? As she stood there gazing at the house with insatiable eyes, a light suddenly shone out behind two of the windows, gazing at her like a pair of friendly eyes. The windows were his. But the young wife found nothing reassuring in them. The terrible anxiety which had left her at the sight of the uninjured house, suddenly leaped up with renewed force. How happened it that there should be lights in his room when the fire was still smouldering down there? He in the house when his presence below was so necessary?
No, never--or he must--
On--on--only to see--only to see from a distance, whether he lived and was well!
"Life hangs on the merest thread," Johanna's words sounded in her ears. "God in Heaven, have mercy, do not punish me so!"