"Martin, Martin!" the proud woman humbly bent her head. "Be it so! You shall help me, if all else abandons me. I will accept it as a loan from you. I can paint--I will try to earn something, perhaps from one of the fashion journals, to which I have always subscribed. The maid once told me I might earn my living by it--it was a prophecy! So I can, God willing, repay you at some future day."
"Oh, we won't talk about that!" cried Martin joyously, kissing the countess' hands.
"If I may have a little room under the roof for myself--we'll call it the interest. And I have something to spare besides, for--you must eat, too."
The countess covered her face with her trembling hands.
"Now I'll drive home and in Your Highness' name throw carriage, horses, and all the rest of the rubbish at the Wildenaus' feet--then I'll come back and bring something nice for our invalid which can't be had here--and my livery, for Sundays and holidays, so that we can make a good appearance! And I'll look after the garden and house, and--do whatever else you need. Oh, I've never been so happy in my life!"
He left her, and the countess stood gazing after him a long time, deeply shamed by the simple fidelity of the old man, who wished to wear her livery and be her servant, while he was really her benefactor: In truth--high or low--human nature is common to all. Martin returned: "Doesn't Your Highness wish to bid farewell to the horses? Shan't I drive past, or will it make you feel too badly?"
"Beautiful creatures," a tone of melancholy echoed in her voice as she spoke: "No, Martin, I don't want to see them again."
"Yes, yes--!" Martin had understood her, and pitied her more than for anything else, for it seemed to him the hardest of sacrifices to part with such beautiful horses.
The countess remained alone in the little garden. The stars were shining above her head. She thought of the diamond stars which she had once flung to Freyer in false atonement, to place in the dead child's coffin--if she had them now to use their value to support her sick husband--that would be the fitting atonement.
"Only do not let him starve, oh, God! If I were forced to see him starve! Oh, God!--spare me that, if it can be!" she prayed, her eyes uplifted with anxious care to the glittering star-strewn vault.