Something outside darkened the window. Ludwig Gross was passing on his way toward the door, bringing with him a tan, dark figure, towering far above the low window, a figure that moved shyly, swiftly along, followed by a throng of people, at a respectful distance. The countess felt paralyzed. Was he coming? Was he coming in.
She could not rise and look--she sat with clasped hands, trembling in humble expectation, as Danae waited the moment when the shower of gold should fall. Then--steps echoed in the workshop--the footsteps of two--! They were an eternity in passing down its length--but they were really approaching her room--they came nearer--some one knocked! She scarcely had breath to call "come in." She would not believe it--from the fear of disappointment. She still sat motionless at the table--Ludwig Gross opened the door to allow the other to precede him--and Freyer entered. He stooped slightly, that he might not strike his head, but that was needless, for--what miracle was this? The door expanded before the countess' eyes, the ceiling rose higher and higher above him. A wide lofty space filled with dazzling light surrounded him. Colors glittered before her vision, figures floated to and fro; were they shadows or angels? She knew not, a mist veiled her eyes--for a moment she ceased to think. Then she felt as if she had awaked from a deep slumber, during which she had been walking in her sleep--for she suddenly found herself face to face with Freyer, he was holding her hands in his, while his eyes rested on hers--in speechless silence.
She suddenly found herself face to face with Freyer.
Then she regained her self-control and the first words she uttered were addressed to Ludwig: "You have brought him--!" she said, releasing Freyer's hands to thank the man who had so wonderfully guessed her yearning.
Gift and gratitude were equal--and here both were measureless! She scarcely knew at this moment which she valued more, the man who brought this donation or the gift itself. But from this hour Ludwig Gross was her benefactor.
"You have brought him"--she repeated, for she knew not what more to say--that one word contained all! Had she possessed the eloquence of the universe, it would not have been so much to Ludwig as that one word and the look which accompanied it. Then, like a child at Christmas, which, after having expressed its thanks, goes back happily to its presents, she turned again to Freyer.
Yet, as the child stands timidly before the abundance of its gifts, and, in the first moments of surprise, does not venture to touch them, she now stood, shy and silent before him, her only language her eyes and the tears which streamed down her cheeks.
Freyer saw her deep emotion and, bending kindly toward her, again took her hands in his. Every nerve was still quivering--she could feel it--from the terrible exertion he had undergone--and as the moisture drips from the trees after the rain, his eyes still swam in tears, and his face was damp with perspiration.
"How shall I thank you for coming to me after this day of toil?" she began in a low tone.