“I do not wish, in the least, to see her,” said her mother; “she can do what she likes until then.” “I will tell Marie, and she will rejoice,” cried Trude. “Tell her, from her father, that it is very agreeable to him not to see her pale, wretched-looking face again till morning.--Now, my son, pay attention, and you, Trude, do not presume to interrupt us again. Leberecht, play out my ace of hearts.” The latter, with his eyes cast down, and with a perfectly indifferent manner, played the card indicated, and Trude left the room quietly and unobserved. “Every thing is arranged, my child,” said Trude, as she re-entered Marie’s room. “They are playing cards, which always lasts two hours, then Herr Ebenstreit goes away, and the family will go to bed. You have eighteen hours, before you will be discovered. Hark! it strikes seven, and it is already quite dark. When the post-horn sounds, then it is time.” “Oh, Trude! my dear mother, my heart almost ceases to beat, with anxiety, and I quake with fear,” sighed Marie. “I am conscious that I have commenced a fearful undertaking!” “They have driven you to it--it is not your fault,” said Trude, consolingly. “Every human being is free to work out his own good or bad fortune, and, as our dear Old Fritz says, ‘to be happy in the future world in his own way.’ They have sold you for money, and you only prove to them that you are no slave.” “And I prove also that I am a disobedient daughter,” added Marie, trembling. “At this hour, it weighs like a heavy burden upon my heart, and the words of Holy Writ burn into my very soul--‘Honor thy father and thy mother, that it may be well with thee.’” “You have honored them all your life,” said Trude, solemnly; “I can witness it before God and man. You have worked for them without thanks or love, receiving only contempt. It is also written, ‘Thou shalt leave father and mother, and cleave unto thy husband.’ You still follow the commands of God, and may it bring you happiness and blessing. My prayers and thoughts go with you, my child! a mother could not love her offspring more tenderly than I do you.” “No mother could more tenderly and faithfully care for her than you have for me, Trude,” cried Marie, pressing her lovingly to her breast. “Through you alone is my rescue possible, for you give us the money to undertake the long journey.” “Not I,” she laughed; “it is Herr Ebenstreit, and that makes it the more amusing; the wicked always set the traps into which they fall themselves.” Suddenly the loud, quivering tones of the post-horn were heard, “Es ritten drei Reiter zum Thore hinaus.”