"Quite right!" returned the master. "It is really our Franz you describe. All agrees to a hair!" "Has he never"--Jane's voice again betrayed the excitement she could with difficulty restrain--"has he never told you of a brother who grew up with him in M.!" "That he has indeed! But he was no real brother, only an adopted child whom his parents had brought with them from Hamburg, and kept, in their kindness of heart, as no one claimed him." Jane sent a triumphant glance over to Atkins. In spite of all, she was on the track. "And this also is known to you? Later the boys were separated, but the other also found adoption?" "Yes, with a learned man." With an almost convulsive movement, Jane lifted her head. "With--a learned man!" she repeated slowly; "they told us it was a clergyman, pastor Hartwigs." "Yes, you are quite right; he was a very learned old gentleman, with his head always stuck into books; Franz has told us all about him; later, he gave up his pastorate--he was not poor--just to live for his learning." Jane had all at once become pale as death. A lightning ray had flashed down and rent the darkness which had so long lain over the destiny of her brother; for a moment it glowed lurid and threatning, then all was again night; but its upflowing must have shown something terrible to the sister, for she shuddered before it. "Are you ill, Miss Jane?" asked Atkins, anxiously, and made a movement to approach her. "No!" Jane summoned all her strength, and motioned him back; her breath came short and violently, and the hand with which she held for support to the table, trembled as if in a fever. "And do you know whether that adopted brother is still alive, whether he stands in any sort of relationship to your son-in-law?" "Certainly he is alive," said the master-joiner calmly. "And they have often written to each other. No longer ago than last Easter, Franz had a letter from him." "From what place? Where was it dated?" Fearful excitement pulsed through Jane's voice; her glance was fixed upon the man as if life or death for her lay in his answer. Master Vogt shook his head. "That I cannot tell you. Franz spoke of the letter, and told us that his brother was doing well, but he always called him by his given name, Fritz, and neither my daughter nor I saw the writing. The only thing I know is that he came from the Rhine." From the Rhine! Jane laid her hand against her moist, icy-cold forehead. For a moment, it seemed to her as if she must swoon away, and all else with her; but she kept up, and remained so dumb and motionless, that both men thought her apathetic. Atkins glanced over to her in surprise; he waited for her to ask further questions, waited for a full, minute; but as she was still silent he began to speak. "This being the case, we might have spared ourselves a difficult journey! We have just come from the Rhine, my best Monsieur Vogt. You can give us neither name nor place? Neither you nor your daughter?" "Neither."