"I have no right to expect or ask forbearance from you. Do what your conscience tells you. You can raise no accusation against Count Arnau, my father--he is dead; but on the ground of this document you can publicly demand that the money which was withdrawn from you be returned, and thus cleanse your father's name from the stain which rests upon it, transferring it to mine instead." In face of _his_ words Gertrud looked somewhat inclined to waver, she hung her head. "I--know it." "You know it! Well, then, you also know that it will be my ruin. I have tried in strained activity to forget the curse which I have inherited. I have accomplished much, and hoped everything from my career; that is, of course, at an end, so soon as public shame reaches me. Neither my office nor my connection with the Prince's household can stand before that; I must resign it, henceforth to hide a dishonoured name in darkness and inactivity. For a nature like mine, this means ruin, Gertrud; power and the right to use it lie in your hands. Retaliate as you will, if you _can_ ruin me, then do it." A deep sigh heaved the tormented girl's breast, she would have rushed away, but the ban of his eyes and voice held her enchained. He stood before her, without entreaty, but also without reproach, only his eyes burned in passionate unrest, they searched her's deeply--deeply as if he must and would read the depths of her soul. "Gertrud! It concerns your father's honour, and my destruction--do it!" The girl's arm sank hopelessly, with a heart-rending expression she looked up, as if begging for mercy, her eyes met his, a moment passed, an eternity for both, then Gertrud suddenly seized the paper convulsively with both hands--it fell in fragments at her feet. The Praesidentin stood speechless; she had not understood the last scene between the two, nor Hermann's incomprehensible behaviour, only now that she saw him draw the girl passionately towards him, the truth began to dawn upon her. The proud old woman tottered and supported herself by a chair, this was too much in one hour. Meanwhile Gertrud lay half insensible in Hermann's arms, and he bent over her with an expression of tenderness, which the grandmother had never before seen in his firm, cold features. The passionately longed-for certainty was his at last, now he knew, too, for whom she had trembled yesterday. But the energetic girl did not succumb many minutes to this fearful agitation, she raised herself and tried to escape from his arms. "You are saved, Count Arnau---Farewell!" He stood as if struck by lightning. "Gertrud, for heaven's sake, what does this mean?" "I leave this house at once. Do not hold me back, I must go." "And do you really imagine," cried Hermann, "that I will let you go? Oh, your incomprehensibleness does not alarm me any longer. You have given a right over you by this sacrifice which I shall know how to use." Gertrud looked earnestly at him for a moment.