Werner had arranged his sentence so that its conclusion should be a sudden revelation to his brother. He had exulted in the prospect of Arno's amazement and horror at the intelligence that Anna Mueller was Sorr's wife, but to his astonishment his brother did not betray the slightest surprise, bestowing only a slight glance at the "guest," who, hat in hand, but in evident confusion, stammered various conventional phrases suitable, as he thought, to the occasion. Werner could not understand Arno's unlooked-for composure, and when his brother coldly rejoined, "Frau von Sorr has already informed me of your bringing this gentleman to Hohenwald," he hastily exclaimed, "You have spoken with Frau von Sorr?" "Not long ago." "And she told you that I was at the castle with her husband?" "Yes." "She must have seen us then as we drove hither." "Very probably." "Why, then, does she not come to my father? She is evidently avoiding us. Where did you see her? My father has been waiting impatiently for her for more than half an hour." "Indeed? Then it will gratify him to learn tidings of her." And with these words Arno passed on into the garden-room; but in the doorway he observed that Werner and Sorr were following him; he paused therefore, and, barring the way, said, gravely, "The tidings that I bring of Fraeulein Anna Mueller are for my father's ear alone." "Herr von Sorr certainly has a right to know where his wife is and what you have to say to my father with regard to her." "The devil he has!" the Freiherr angrily exclaimed. "I told you before, Werner, that you are to remain out upon the terrace with your Herr von Sorr until I call you. No man in the world, and this Herr von Sorr least of all, has a right to hear what my son wishes to tell me alone. Understand that, Herr Finanzrath. Now go! I wish to be alone with Arno!" Werner suppressed the angry retort that rose to his lips, and, withdrawing once more, paced the terrace impatiently with Sorr. He knew that when his father was as angry as at present there was nothing for it but to obey. "What have you to tell me of Fraeulein Anna? I will still call her by the name I love. I can hardly believe that she is the wife of that low-looking scoundrel," the Freiherr said, when Arno had taken his accustomed seat beside his chair. His son as briefly and as simply as possible told of his interview with her in the forest,--how she had presented her father to him and told him that she was forced to flee from her unworthy husband. He also delivered Anna's farewell to the Freiherr, and her entreaty that no one would judge her harshly, but wait until a letter from her should explain all.