Hertha shuddered involuntarily at the strange moaning sound, and then turned to go. Michael followed her, but at some slight distance, and neither spoke. They came out into the vestibule of the church, where they were met by the pastor looking much distressed. "I was in search of you, Countess Hertha," said he, out of breath with his hurried walk. "Here you are too, Michael. A messenger has arrived from Castle Steinrück----" "From the castle?" Hertha interposed. "I trust my mother is no worse?" "The Countess's illness seems to have become graver, and Fräulein von Eberstein wished you to know it; here is a letter for you." Hertha opened the letter hurriedly and glanced through it. Valentin saw her grow pale. "I must go; there is not a moment to be lost. I entreat your reverence to have the wagon made ready immediately." "Do you wish to go now?" Valentin asked in dismay. "It is growing dark; the night will have fallen absolutely in half an hour, and there is a storm brewing. You cannot possibly take that long mountain drive in the night." "I must! Gerlinda would not write as she does if my mother were not dangerously ill." "But you yourself run a great risk in persisting in going. What do you think, Michael?" "It will be a stormy night," said Michael, advancing. "_Must_ you go, Countess Steinrück?" For answer she handed to him and to the pastor the letter she had received. It consisted of a few hasty lines: "My godmother has suddenly grown worse; she is asking for you, and I am terribly anxious. The physician talks of a severe, perhaps dangerous attack. Come immediately! GERLINDA." "You see I have no choice," the young Countess said in a trembling voice. "If I start immediately I can reach the castle before midnight. I must go, your reverence." During the last few moments they had been walking towards the village. Hertha and the priest had some trouble in making their way against the wind. Valentin made one more attempt to persuade her to wait at least until daybreak before setting forth, but in vain. At the parsonage they questioned the servant from the castle, who had ridden over on horseback, but he could give his young mistress no consoling tidings. The Frau Countess was certainly very ill; the Herr Doctor had looked very grave, and had bidden him make all the haste he could. Michael had taken no part in the priest's remonstrances, but now he stepped to Hertha's side and asked, in a low voice, "May I go with you?" "No!" was the reply, in a voice as low, but none the less decided. He retired with a frown.