Trude trembled, but composed herself, saying, “There is time enough to-morrow. Fraulein has been asleep a long time.” “She lies,” sneered Leberecht, taking the precaution to protect himself behind the general’s arm-chair. “She knows that she is not in bed.” “Oh, you sneak, you rascal,” cried Trude, shaking her fist at him, “how dare you say that I tell a lie? How can such a miserable creature as you impute to others what you do yourself every time that you open your mouth?” “Frau von Werrig, she is only quarrelling, in order to gain time--every moment is precious. I beg you to go up-stairs, and see for yourself, if your daughter is there.” “Fraulein has locked the door so as not to be disturbed.” “Ah,” said Leberecht, “Trude has locked it, and has the key in her pocket.” “Give up the key,” shrieked the general, who in vain tried to rise, “or I will call the police, and send you to prison.” “Do it, but I will not give it to you.” “Do you not see she has it?” cried Leberecht. “Oh, you wretch, I will pay you--I will scratch your eyes out, you miserable creature!” “Trude, be quiet,” commanded Ebenstreit; “the general orders to give up the key--do it!” “Yes, do it at once,” shrieked Frau von Werrig, “or I will dismiss you from my service.” “That you will not have to do, as I shall go myself. I will not give up the key.” “The door is old, and with a good push one could open it,” said Leberecht. “Come, my son, let us see,” said the mother. They hastened up to the room, while the general scolded, furiously that he must sit still. Leberecht and Trude cast furious, menacing glances at each other. Suddenly a loud crash was heard. “They have broken open the door!” cried the general. “I said that it was old and frail--what do you say now, beautiful Trude?” The old woman wiped with her hand the drops of perspiration from her forehead, caused by her anguish. “You are a bad fellow, and God will punish you for your treason, that you have tormented a noble, unhappy girl. I saw that you were an eavesdropper, and you know all.” “She is gone!” shrieked the mother, rushing into the room. “The room is empty,” cried Ebenstreit. “Marie is not there. Tell us, Leberecht, what you know about it.” “I will, if we can agree about the pay--the old woman bothers me, and beg the young gentleman to go into the next room with me.” “O Almighty God, have compassion upon my poor little Marie,” murmured Trude, kneeling, and covering her face. Ebenstreit in the mean time withdrew to the other room, followed by the servant. “Speak!” commanded his master, “and tell me what you have to say.” Leberecht shrugged his shoulders. “We are two men who have urgent business with each other. I am not at present a servant and you the master. I am a man who has an important secret to sell, and you are the man who would buy it.” “What strange, unheard-of language is this?” said Ebenstreit, astonished.