When the first shock of his surprise had passed, the old Freiherr looked from Werner to Sorr and from Sorr to Werner in a kind of fury. He had no suspicion as to the truth of Sorr's story; he remembered that, by Count Styrum's desire, no allusion was ever made to Fraeulein Mueller's past; there could be no doubt that Anna was Sorr's unfortunate wife, forced by a sad fate to fly from her husband. What the Freiherr did doubt, what, indeed, utterly discredited, was the man's assertion of an altered course of life. One glance at his bloated features, at his watery, crimson-lidded eyes, proclaimed the fact that Sorr was deeply plunged in debauchery and drunkenness. This man had never aroused himself to a life of honest toil. It was no affection for his wife that impelled him to seek her out. The Freiherr's mind was filled with vague suspicion as to the man's motives, suspicion that attached in a degree also to Werner, to whose last words he sharply rejoined, saying,-- "So you have been playing the spy here that you might betray the poor thing's confidence?" "As Frau von Sorr never honoured me with her confidence I could not possibly betray it," Werner replied coolly to his father's reproach. "When I saw how great was her husband's misery, and how sincere his resolution to amend, I judged it my duty to acquaint him with his wife's retreat." "I owe the Finanzrath an eternal debt of gratitude for bringing me hither," Sorr interposed, "and for promising to set the crown upon his kindness by doing all that lies in his power to induce my beloved Lucie to fulfil the duty that she owes to an unfortunate husband." The Finanzrath bit his lip. Sorr's words reminded him, as they were meant to do, of the promise he had made the Russian to do all that lay in his power to further his schemes. The part assigned him here was odious enough, but the fear inspired by the Russian's threats conquered his distaste for it. He had gone too far to retrace his steps, and he therefore replied to Sorr, "I will certainly keep my word, although I think there will be little need of any influence of mine. Frau von Sorr, I feel assured, will willingly follow you; but should she refuse to do so, my father will surely not sustain her in such a departure from her duty. Castle Hohenwald cannot possibly be an asylum for a wife who has deserted her husband in misfortune and refuses to return to him." As Werner spoke these words he did not look up; he did not dare to meet his father's eyes, and therefore he did not see the contempt that shone in them as the Freiherr turned from his son to Sorr and said, sharply, "What you ask of me, then, Herr von Sorr, is that I shall force this unhappy woman to return to you. Is this so? Speak out, sir; I want a candid reply."