The place, so far as it could be seen from the door, was empty, but a light appeared at first one and then another window. Cautiously as he closed the door, he could not prevent its creaking loudly on its rusty hinges; at the same moment a watch-dog with which Gretchen often played sprang towards the intruder with a loud bark, but was silent again as soon as it recognized Gotthold. He accepted the animal's caresses as a good omen, and walked cautiously on towards the light, which now streamed steadily from one window, that of the child's sleeping-room, which adjoined Cecilia's. Gotthold, with a beating heart, approached it and saw her. She had apparently just put the little girl's playthings away, and then sank into a chair beside the table, supporting her forehead upon her left hand, the image of grief. The rays of the light standing behind her clearly revealed the exquisite shape of the head, the delicate outlines of the slender neck, the soft curves of the shoulders and bust, while the deep shadow seemed to increase the expression of sorrow upon the pure features. Gotthold's heart overflowed with love and pity. "Cecilia, dearest Cecilia!" he murmured. She could not have heard the words; but at that moment she raised her head, and, glancing towards the window, perceived the dark figure before it. Starting from her chair with a low exclamation of joy, she extended her arms, then waved him back with both hands, crying in tones of agony: "No, no, for God's sake!" Gotthold had neither seen Cecilia's repellent gesture, nor heard her words. He had hastily entered by the door, which was only latched, and was now kneeling at her feet, clasping her hands, and covering them with passionate kisses. All that had moved his heart and filled it to bursting during these last few days, so overflowing with the joy and anguish of love, all the nameless agony he had suffered from the night before until now, gushed from his lips in a torrent of wild, passionate words; and, however she might struggle against it, she felt herself carried away and borne along by the tide, until, springing up and clasping her in his arms, he cried: "So come, Cecilia! you must not remain another moment in this house, must not stay under the same roof with this scoundrel, who allows himself to be paid with paltry money for the shame of knowing that his wife is beloved by another, and loves him in return. I went away without you this morning--it all came upon me so suddenly, was so incomprehensible; I thought I must obey your command, although I did not understand you, although you acted from compassion for the man whom you had once loved, nay, out of a remnant of affection for him. Now I understand you better, now I know, once for all, that you love me, now I have found--we have found each other again; now no one, nothing shall part us! Cecilia! you do not answer me?"