"Oh, Herr Professor, do not let her go. Follow her quickly, and let all be explained. Believe me, she is an angel. Grudge her no words. There is no use in writing,--her uncle can intercept all her letters. Spoken words are safest and best. Quick, quick, or you may both be wretched!" "Thanks, old friend, you are right!" cried Johannes, all aglow again; and, before the words were well uttered, he was gone. Frau Brigitta entered with the soup, and looked after him in surprise. "The gentleman seems in a hurry!" said she. "Let him go, mother dear. These young people are struggling, amid a thousand fears and anxious hopes, for a goal that we old people have long gazed back upon contentedly. God guide them!" Johannes called to his coachman to await his return before the school-house, and followed Ernestine, who was slowly pursuing the foot-path directly before him. All was quiet and lonely around, for it was noon, and the peasants were at dinner. She looked round upon hearing Johannes' step behind her, and stood still. He soon overtook her. "Ernestine," he said resolutely, "I must have a final, decisive word with you, and Leonhardt is right,--it should go from heart to heart. Will you listen to me?" He drew her arm through his, and as they talked they slowly approached the eminence upon which stood the castle. "Ernestine, dear Ernestine, I would give all that I have that the scene between you and my mother, this morning, had never been. You have been mortally offended, and that, too, while you were my guest in a house whither you had fled for refuge, and that should have been a home to you. But it happened in my absence,--it was not my fault. Will you make me suffer for it?" "No, my friend, certainly not." "Well, then, be magnanimous and forgive my mother, although she never can forgive herself!" "I have nothing to forgive."