Thus the trysting-place selected by Ernestine was quite near her home. The church was an appendage of the abbey mentioned by Forster. It was a lonely place, surrounded by a burial-ground, where, as usual in German cemeteries, the inventions of the mason and carpenter rarely go beyond an urn, a cross, or a broken pillar in fashioning a tombstone, and where, for reasons to be afterwards mentioned, few came to promenade, as the public usually do in public burying-grounds. At the gate stood a handsome britzka, with a pair of horses, the reins of which were held by Heinrich, who was without groom or other attendant. 'Ernestine?' said Charlie, grasping the hand of his friend. 'She is in the church. We have not been here three minutes. Do not detain her long, Carl, as I would not have suspicion excited. Meantime, I shall smoke a cigar.' Charlie hastened into the edifice, for the Herr Pastor of which, in happier times, Ernestine and Herminia had worked many altar-cloths, pen-wipers, slippers, and smoking-caps. It was a plain, whitewashed edifice, ancient Gothic in some parts, patched with modern brickwork elsewhere; and a subdued light stole through the windows on the portraits of certain defunct Herr Pastors hung upon the pillars, the oaken pews, and the rows of black iron spittoons in some, with kneeling hassocks in others. Before the rail of the altar, Ernestine was kneeling, in prayer apparently. There was no one else in the church, and on hearing Charlie approach, she threw herself into his arms, and for some time could but sob passionately and utter his name in a choking voice, while he patted her cheek and kissed away her tears. Then she became more composed, and taking Charlie's face between her soft and ungloved hands, gazed into his eyes with a tender smile. 'You will yet love me, Carl, in spite of all that mamma has said?' she whispered. 'Love you!' he exclaimed, 'what on earth could make me cease to love you?' 'How enchanting it is to be with you again, my own Carl! You will write to me from--from France, when Heinrich writes to me or Herminia, and I can reply in the same manner.' 'Thank you, darling, for the delightful promise.' 'No power on earth must separate us, Carl. I have resolved that such cannot, shall not be.' 'The Baron----' 'Ah, don't speak of him at this precious time,' said she, contemptuously; 'that odious Grünthal--such a mouth he has! When he laughs you can almost see it behind him.' 'Behind him, darling--how?' 'The corners of his mouth might meet behind his head.' This was somewhat of an exaggeration, but as it was like some of Ernestine's speeches in merrier times, she made Charlie laugh. 'Yet, to such a man _they_ would assign you!' said he. 'If they dare!' she replied, with a little gesture, peculiarly her own, as it was partly imperious and partly child-like. Her tears began to flow again, and she said: