"How do I love him?" replied the girl. "I love him as Eternal Compassion loves the poor and suffering. He is poor and suffering. Oh! do not think evil of him--he does not deserve it. He is good and noble! Believe me, a mother must know her child better," she added, with the smile that reveals a breaking heart.
She looked the drawing-master kindly in the face: "Ludwig, we both understand him, do we not? We believe in him, though all condemn."
Ludwig could not speak--he merely nodded silently and pressed Anastasia's hand, as if in recognition of the pledge. He was undergoing a superhuman conflict, but, with the strength peculiar to him, succeeded in repressing any display of emotion.
The burgomaster stood mutely watching the scene, and neither of the three could decide which suffered most.
He gazed in speechless grief at the clasped hands of his sister and his friend. How often he had wished for this moment, and now--? What parted alone united them, and what united, divided.
"Aye, Freyer has brought much misery upon us!" he said, with sullen resentment. "I only hope that he will never set foot again upon the soil of his forefathers!"
"Oh, Brother, how can you speak so--you do not mean it. I know that his heart will draw him back here; he will seek his home again, and he shall find it. You will not thrust him from you when he returns from foreign lands sorrowing and repentant. God knows how earnestly I wish him happiness, but I do not believe that he will possess it. And as he will be loyal to us in his inmost soul, we will be true to him and prepare a resting place when the world has nailed his heart upon the cross. Shall we not, Ludwig?"
"Yes, by Heaven, we will!" faltered Ludwig, and his tears fell on the beautiful head of the girl, who still sat motionless, as if she must wait here for the lost one.
"Woman, behold thy son--son, behold thy mother!" stirred the air like a breath.