Jochen Prebrow cracked his whip, and the horses, which had been advancing along the narrow by-way at a walk, trotted rapidly over the smooth broad high-road. A short distance on the left appeared Dahlitz, the fine estate once the property of the ancient noble family to which Cecilia's mother belonged, but which had long since passed into the possession of the plebeian Brandow, and was now Carl Brandow's inheritance. The highway, as Gotthold remembered, led directly through the estate, and for a considerable distance farther ran close by the wall of the park. His heart began to beat violently; his eyes wandered timidly towards the house, whose white front was already partially visible between the out-buildings. To pass so near her home, to let the only opportunity he might ever be offered escape thus, never, never to see her more! Gotthold leaned back in the corner of the carriage, drawing the broad brim of his hat farther over his eyes; he would fain have ordered Jochen to turn back again. Meantime Jochen was driving on at a slow trot; it would soon be over. But just as they were passing the gates an empty harvest wagon came out so rapidly that the horses almost struck Jochen's. The latter swore, the farm hand swore, and some one standing in the courtyard swore also, Gotthold could not understand whether at his own man or the strange coachman--probably at both; but it was not Carl Brandow's clear voice, and the coarse fat man in top boots, who strode heavily forward to the gate, certainly bore no resemblance to Carl Brandow's slight, elastic figure. Then Jochen again had a free passage for his frightened horses, which he reined in with considerable difficulty as they passed at full gallop by the low park wall, over which now and then one could obtain through the trees and shrubs a view of the pleasure-grounds, and even distinguish a broad handsome lawn which lay on one side of the mansion. On this piece of turf was a swing, in which two little girls were just being carefully pushed to and fro by their nurse, while a half-dozen other children of all ages gambolled upon the grass, their fresh voices ringing merrily on the quiet evening air. A stately lady moved among the group, with a little man dressed in black beside her, apparently the boys' tutor. The picture was only visible a few seconds, but Gotthold's keen eye had seized it down to the smallest detail, and it was still in his mind when the carriage moved more slowly along the broad highway. His heart had trembled causelessly; she no longer lived here. Where was she now? He had not heard a word from home for so long--was she dead? She was to him, of course, and yet, and yet-- "That Redebas is a coarse fellow," said Jochen taking the reins in his left hand, "but he understands his business; he'll come out all right." "So Dahlitz does not belong to Herr Brandow?" said Gotthold.