"I do not know what she has written," said Cilli, taking the paper from her bosom, "You ought not to look at the words; they are wild, perhaps bad words! but how can a poor human creature know at such a moment what she does or says?" He had hastily run his eye over the lines. "Ferdinanda has eloped--when?" "About half an hour ago--perhaps more; I do not know exactly." "Did he carry her off?" Cilli, from whom Ferdinanda had long had no secrets, mentioned Bertalda's name and residence. "So even this time it was not himself!" murmured Uncle Ernst with a bitter smile. "Thank you, my dear child, thank you for your honesty. I have always thought highly of you, I see that I did not think nearly highly enough. And now let me call my sister to take you back and see you into bed; I am sure you ought to be there." "She is sitting at my father's bedside," said Cilli; "she has been there these two hours. I can go very well alone." "Then I will take you." "If you are really grateful to me, if I am not to think that I have been here in vain, you have something else to do now; pray let me go alone." She rose from her chair and folded her hands again upon her bosom. "Go alone then, if you really wish it." She moved slowly to the door, there stood still, and turning round raised both hands with an imploring gesture to him, as he gazed sadly and gloomily after her, then felt for the handle. The door opened from the outside. Grollmann, as before, stretched out his arm without crossing the threshold, received Cilli's groping hand in his, and shut the door behind her. "They are all leagued together against me for good or evil," murmured Uncle Ernst; "Reinhold, Rike, that old man, all, all! And she, good child, who is probably worth more than all of us, she brings me this with her pure innocent hands--this!" He stared fixedly at the paper which he held in his hand. "I bid you farewell--for ever! You do not need my love, and yours I have sufficiently experienced! You have crushed my heart and broken my spirit; you have ruthlessly sacrificed my heart, my soul, my love to your pride, as a fanatical priest slaughters the lamb at the altar of his gods. And that other--his father! Truly when the spirit has been killed, it is an act of mercy to kill the body! Wrap yourself then in your pharisaic virtues, enjoy your arrogant pride! For us, welcome disgrace! welcome shame! welcome death!" "So be it then--death!" He tore the paper in half, and tore the pieces again and again, flung the fragments on the floor, put his hands behind his back, and began once more to pace up and down the room as he had been doing when Cilli came in. As he thus moved, with burning downcast eyes, he set his foot upon one of the fragments which were fluttering about here and there. He tried to put it aside, but only ground it deeper into the soft carpet. "Bah!" said he.