Lucie left alone with Arno, resolved not to leave him until she had
justified herself in his eyes, and yet she was irresolute how to begin.
Her cheeks glowed with shame at the idea of imparting to him the sad
mystery of her life, and yet the precious minutes were flying;
something must be said immediately.
"And you are really going to leave us?"
This simple question from Arno broke the silence and relieved Lucie's
hesitation. "I must, Herr Baron," she replied. "I had hoped to find a
home in Castle Hohenwald, but a sad fate has snatched it from me."
"Am I the cause of your flight?" Arno eagerly asked. "Do you so dread
the few hours that are all I can yet pass in the castle? I leave it
to-morrow. Do you hate me so bitterly?"
"I do not hate you," Lucie gently replied. And in her candid eyes, in
the pressure of the little hand that still rested in his, Arno saw that
she spoke the truth. "You are not the cause of my leaving Hohenwald.
Your brother, who is now at the castle, will tell you the reasons for
my flight."
"Werner? You have confided, then, in him?"
"No; an unfortunate chance betrayed to him my sad secret, and he has
made sad use of it. Even without his interference I should have
followed my father, who is restored to me after years of hopeless
separation, but I should not have been forced to steal away thus, like
a criminal, without one word of farewell to your father, who has
treated me with such paternal kindness."
"You speak in riddles. I do not comprehend you."
"I will solve them for you," Lucie sadly replied. "You will comprehend
all when I tell you that the man whom your brother has just introduced
at Castle Hohenwald is the cause of my misfortunes, is my miserable
husband, Herr von Sorr!"
Arno fairly staggered beneath the blow; he dropped Lucie's hand and
gazed at her in horror. "You are--you--you are----"
He could not finish the sentence; hope seemed slain within him; his
future was a blank.
"Do not be angry with me," Lucie said, taking his hand again. "I
implore you not to be angry with me. I am so wretchedly unhappy. I
could not part from you without telling you the whole truth. I have
longed to do this so often, and I have bitterly repented ever coming to
Hohenwald under a feigned name."
"Lucie, we are waiting!" Ahlborn called from the distance.
"Must I leave you without one word of forgiveness from you?" Lucie
continued. She still held Arno's hand in hers and gazed at him with
eyes of sad entreaty. Hitherto she had suppressed all expression of her
sentiments towards him. Never in the intercourse of daily life at
Hohenwald had she for an instant relaxed in the stern watch and ward
that she kept over every gesture, every look that might encourage any
hope in his mind. But this was a supreme moment; they were parting
forever, and her heart clamoured for its rights.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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