Scarcely had he pronounced the last words than the dog repeated his U--U--U! in a still harsher tone. Bertha coloured again, she made it come and lay down at her feet, scolding him in displeasure.
"Well, we have it now," said Albert, in triumph; "his master's name is U!" He recollected that the curious word on the ring which the exile had given him began with an U. It is extraordinary, thought he. "Is your master's name, perhaps, Uffenheim? or Uxhüll? or Ulm? or, by the bye,----"
"Nonsense! the dog has no other note than U. How can you plague yourself in trying to find out a meaning to it? But here comes my father. If you wish to conceal our love from him, do not commit yourself. I'll leave you now, as it would not be right to be found together."
Albert promised to be discreet, and once more embraced Bertha, an indulgence which was likely to be the last for some time, should the presence of her father render it impossible to see her again alone. The dog appeared to watch the movements of the loving couple with astonishment, as if he were really gifted with human sense. The first sound of the horse's feet on the drawbridge was the signal for separation, when Bertha left the room accompanied by the faithful animal.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The Duke, so sad, can find no rest,
And dark reflections fill his breast;
"How far, alas! from me removed,
How much is sunk, the land I loved."
G. Schwab.