Meanwhile this unexpected event, the arrival of a guest in an extra post chaise with four horses, had alarmed the whole household below. The flock of children rushed into the hall, the pastor's study-door was hurriedly opened, voices were heard on all sides, till finally, a firm voice, making itself heard above all the tumult, said-- "Do not trouble yourself, Herr Pastor. Fraeulein Walter will excuse me if I present myself without being formally announced. I have important news for her." Steps were heard on the stairs, the door flew open, and Count Arnau stood upon the threshold. Gertrud could not utter a word of greeting; trembling in every limb, she still stood on the same spot. He closed the door and approached her. "So you have flown from me to this distant, isolated village? Gertrud, did you really think I should _not_ find you?" His eyes rested gravely and reproachfully on her face. She made an attempt to regain her self-command. "Herr Graf, I do not know, indeed, what your sudden appearance means after--" "After my long silence? What, Gertrud, did not you know me better? You thought I was weak and cowardly enough to accept your generous sacrifice unconditionally?" She dropped her eyes; a "No" to this answer would have been--a lie. He came close to her and took her hand. "I knew _you_ well enough to know that your declaration was made in all earnestness, and that every attempt to dissuade you would meet with a renewed refusal, and it is contrary to my nature to indulge in useless complaints and assurances. I preferred to be silent till I could act." "Act?" She looked at him questioningly, doubtingly. "Yes. Your farewell words were true, no one knew that better than myself. In our little capital, where every scandal sleeps unforgotten, to wake again through love of talk, to the ruin of some family--in our own principality, where every important post depends upon favour at Court, and in the midst of a nobility whose prejudices are not yet touched by the faintest breath of advancing opinion, my career would, indeed, have been shattered if Gertrud Brand had become my wife. A union between us under _these_ circumstances would have been impossible." "And now--?" "These circumstances had to be altered. I am free." "Hermann! What have you done?" His countenance lighted up with that expression which hitherto only she had seen, and under which the hard features seemed so strangely mild. In spite of her consternation there was an unspeakable amount of confession in her words, which he had hitherto not been able to tear from her; it was the first time she had called him by his name.