"Or even esteem," Ernestine added with a spasmodic shiver. "No, no! it shall not come to that. I will not sink so low. Noble and true as he is, he shall not accuse me of such selfishness. His proud, suspicious mother shall not find me a beggar at her door,--rather a grave in mid-ocean!" She drew near to Leuthold. Her breath came in gasps, her pulses throbbed. "Uncle, you have destroyed my happiness in life, help me to preserve all that is left for me,--my self-respect!"
"Then come with me. Not until the ocean rolls between you and this man can you be secure from your own weakness."
Ernestine sank down exhausted. "So be it! You have conquered!"
[CHAPTER V.]
SCIENCE AND FAITH.
The dawning day strove in vain to lift the misty veil that a rainy night had spread over hill and dale. It was one of those mornings when the waning summer--like a belle whose charms are of the past in her morning dishabille--showed plainly that its glories were fading. The rising sun crept behind the cold, misty clouds, and the bushes were dripping with tears of regret. The faithful watcher, who had stood on guard all night near the castle, shook the wet from his cloak and shivered as he looked in the direction of the school-house, whence relief was to arrive.
He did not wait long. The powerful figure of a young man appeared briskly advancing through the mist. Slowly and sleepily the clock in the tower of the village church tolled half-past four.
"To a moment!" cried the watcher to the new arrival. "This is punctuality indeed!"
"Good-morning!" said Walter. "Brr! the air is cold. You must be almost frozen."
"Not more so than the huntsman on the watch," replied Johannes. "Ardour for the chase makes him warm. I burn and long to clutch that beast of prey up there. Oh, Walter, I am not easily roused,--my nature is a quiet one,--but if that man had tried to slip away in the night, and had fallen into my hands, I could not have answered for the consequences."