As to the young Prince, he was trembling like an aspen leaf, and his weakness was so great that two young men had to support him. In short, as all present gradually stole closer and closer up to the door of Sidonia's room, the old knight drew forth his lantern, and signed to the men, who stood with their shoulders pressed against it; then when all was ready, he cried "Now!" and the door burst open with a loud crash. Every lock, and bar, and bolt shivered to atoms, and in rushed the whole party, Ulrich at their head, with his lantern lifted high up above them all.
Sidonia and her visitor were standing in the middle of the room. Ulrich first flashed the light upon the face of the man. Who would have believed it?—no other than Johann Appelmann! The knight hit him a heavy blow across the face, exclaiming, "What! thou common horse-jockey—thou low-born varlet—is it thus thou bringest disgrace upon a maiden of the noblest house in Pomerania? Ha, thou shalt be paid for this. Wait! Master Hansen shall give thee some of his gentle love-touches this night!"
But meanwhile the young Prince had entered, and beheld Sidonia, as she stood there trembling from shame, and endeavouring to cover her face with her long, beautiful golden hair that fell almost to her knees. "Sidonia!" he exclaimed, with a cry as bitter as if a dagger had passed through his heart—"Sidonia!" and fell insensible before her.
Now a great clamour arose amongst the crowd, for beside the couch lay the helmet and cuirass of the ghost; so every one knew now who it was that had played this trick on them for so long, and kept the castle in such a state of terror.
Then they gathered round the poor young Prince, who lay there as stiff as a corpse, and lamented over him with loud lamentations, and some of them lifted him up to carry him out of the chamber; but the Grand Chamberlain sternly commanded them to lay him down again before his bride, whom he had arranged to wed privately at Crummyn on the following night. Then seizing Sidonia by the hand, and dashing back her long hair, he led her forward before all the people, and said with a loud voice, "See here the illustrious and high-born Lady Sidonia, of the holy Roman Empire, Duchess of Pomerania, Cassuben, and Wenden, Princess of Rügen, Countess of Gützkow, and our Serene and most Gracious Lady, how she honours the princely house of Pomerania by sharing her love with this stable groom, this tailor's son, this debauched profligate! Oh! I could grow mad when I think of this disgrace. Thou shameless one! have I not long ago given thee thy right name? But wait—the name shall be branded on thee this night, so that all the world may read it."
Just then her Grace entered with Clara, followed by all the other maids of honour; for, hearing the noise and tumult, they had hastened thither as they were, some half undressed, others with only a loose night-robe flung round them. And her Grace, seeing the young lord lying pale and insensible on the ground, wrung her hands and cried out, "Who has killed my son? who has murdered my darling child?"
Here stepped forward Ulrich, and said, "The young lord was not dead; but, if it so pleased God, was in a fair way now to regain both life and reason." Then he related all which had led to this discovery; and how they had that night been themselves the witnesses of Sidonia's wickedness with the false ghost. Now her Grace knew his secret, which he had not told until certain of success.
As he related all these things, her Grace turned upon Sidonia and spat on her; and the young lord, having recovered somewhat in consequence of the water they had thrown on him, cried out, "Sidonia! is it possible? No, Sidonia, it is not possible!"
The shameless hypocrite had now recovered her self-possession, and would have denied all knowledge of Appelmann, saying that he forced himself in when she chanced to open the door; but he, interrupting her, cried, "Does the girl dare to lay all the blame on me? Did you not press my hand there when you were lying after you fell from the stag? Did you not meet me afterwards in the lumber-room—that day of the hunt when Duke Barnim was here last?"
"No, no, no!" shrieked Sidonia. "It is a lie, an infamous lie!" But he answered, "Scream as you will, you cannot deny that this disguise of the ghost was your own invention to favour my visits to you. Did you not drop notes for me down on the coach, through the trap-door, fixing the nights when I might come? and bethink you of last night, when you sent me a note by your maid, wrapped up in a little horse-cloth which I had lent you for your cat, with the prayer that I would not fail to be with you that night nor the next"—Oh, just Heaven! to think that it was upon that very night that Clara should break her shoe-string, by which means the Almighty turned away ruin and disgrace from the ancient, illustrious, and princely house of Pomerania—all by a broken shoe-string! For if the ghost had remained away but that one night, or Clara had not broken her shoestring, Sidonia would have been Duchess of Pomerania; but what doth the Scripture say? "Man's goings are of the Lord. What man understandeth his own way?" (Prov. xx. 24).