The Lost Manuscript Part 96

"To my husband," she said; but, as if listening to her own words, she shuddered. He also was in a house of the Sovereign. He was with the daughter of the wicked man. He himself was not safe there--his wife would not be safe with him. Where to? The question whirled in her head.

The son of the cruel man was with her father, so she must not go home; her neighbour had said so. She sank her head as if stunned. A feeling of helplessness lay like a dead weight upon her; but she raised herself again, and approached Gabriel. "I will leave this city to-day--at once."

The servant wrung his hands.

"I knew it would come to this," he exclaimed.

"You knew it," asked Ilse, gloomily; "and neither I nor my husband did?

Was it seen to every pa.s.serby, and yet a secret to him and me?"

"I noticed that there was something about this place that seemed uncanny," answered Gabriel, "and that no one trusted the distinguished gentleman who just now left. How could I tell you what seemed only my foolish fancy?"

"It is not well to pay too little attention to people's talk," replied Ilse; "I wish to go to some place where I can find a woman, Gabriel.

Get a carriage for me immediately, and accompany me to Mrs. Rollmaus.

We will leave everything here, and you must return to the house, that you may be on the spot when my husband comes back."

"Where shall I get a carriage?" asked Gabriel, hesitatingly.

"From the city, and not from the castle stable."

Gabriel stood and reflected. At last he said, abruptly:

"I shall go; be careful to prevent the lackey from learning that you are preparing for a journey."

"No one shall know it," said Ilse.

Gabriel hastened away, and Ilse locked the door and flew into the next room. There she collected all that was indispensable for the journey.

She closed all the cupboards and wardrobes, and put the keys in a bunch. "When Felix comes, he shall not say I ran away unthinkingly."

She went to his writing-table, and sealed up the letters in a packet.

"So that no curious eye can look upon you," she said. When she packed up the letters of the children and her own answers, a shudder came over her, and she concealed the bundle rapidly beneath other papers. She was ready, and Gabriel had not yet returned. He seemed to linger long. With firm steps she went through the rooms. "You have grown more strange to me the longer I have dwelt here. What has become of the brilliant impression of the first evening? It was a cold splendor, hostile to my life. I would gladly root up every recollection of it from my soul."

She placed herself on the spot where, in the night, she had looked on her sleeping husband. "That was my last sorrowful look at his dear face; when shall I see it again? I go from you, Felix; who would have thought it when we stood together before the altar? I leave you behind among wicked men; you also in danger, and I go away alone, to seek safety for myself far from you. Who would have said some days ago that I should have marked him a liar to his face? I go, Felix, in order to save myself for you. Think of that, and do not be angry with me. I would not have gone for less cause." She sank down on a cus.h.i.+on, and wrung her hands with tearless sorrow. She lay for a long time in this condition. At last there was a knocking at the outer door. She jumped up and opened it, but she drew back terrified when she beheld the pale countenance of her faithful servant.

"I have not ordered a carriage," said Gabriel, "for it would be of no use."

"What do you mean?" asked Ilse, angrily.

"Any carriage that went from here would not take Mrs. Werner where she wishes, but only where another wishes."

"Then we will go ourselves, and take a vehicle in the city."

"Wherever we go," replied Gabriel, "we shall be observed, and if I attempt to call a carriage it will be taken from us."

"You are frightened yourself, Gabriel, and see danger where none exists," replied Ilse, annoyed.

"If we could only get an honest man to take you to Mrs. Rollmaus,"

continued Gabriel; "but it is doubtful whether you could get there. Do you see that man below by the castle? He goes slowly as if he were taking a walk, but he never turns his eyes from this house. That is one of our spies, and he is not the only one."

"Who has told you that?" asked Ilse.

"I have a good friend here who belongs to the castle," replied Gabriel, hesitating. "Do not be angry, Mrs. Werner, that I asked him, for he knows all their tricks. It is possible, he said, that we may succeed; for one cannot a.s.sume that all the people of the city are robbers or deceivers, but it is uncertain and dangerous."

Ilse seized her hat and cloak.

"I am going, Gabriel," she said, quietly. "Will you accompany me?"

"Dear Mrs. Werner, wherever you wish," answered Gabriel. "But first listen to my proposal. My acquaintance thinks that the safest way would be, if the Crown Inspector should fetch you himself in the evening. The evenings are dark, and you may then perhaps be able to leave the house without the lackey or any one else remarking it."

"A prisoner!" exclaimed Ilse. "Who is your acquaintance?" she asked, looking sharply at Gabriel.

"He is true as gold," Gabriel a.s.sured her, "and I will willingly tell you later, but I beg you not to ask me to-day, for he has desired, for his own safety, that no one should be told."

"I trust in your faithfulness," replied Ilse, coldly; "but you yourself may be deceived; I will not follow the advice of a stranger."

"He has offered me a horse," said Gabriel, "it is outside the city. If you will give me a line to the Crown Inspector, I will ride there and bring the carriage in good time."

Ilse looked gloomily at the servant.

"Many hours must pa.s.s away, and I will not remain here alone. I will go on foot along the high road to my friends."

"Look, Mrs. Werner, at the sky; a storm is coming."

"I do not care for it," exclaimed Ilse; "it is not the first time I shall have gone through the rain. If you do not choose to accompany me, you may wait here for my husband, and tell him that I have gone away to my home, and when I am with good people I will write to him."

Gabriel wrung his hands; Ilse put on her cloak.

Suddenly loud altercation was heard on the floor below. Gabriel hastily opened the door; the ba.s.s voice of a stranger was scolding the lackey vehemently:

"But I tell you I am not the man who will allow the door to be shut in his face; she is at home, I say."

Ilse threw off her hat and cloak, sprang down the stairs, and called out.

"Mr. Hummel!"

"Your most obedient servant, Mrs. Werner," cried out Hummel. "I come immediately, only I will first express to this major-domo my high opinion of him. You are a scoundrel, sir, and an object to whom I wish such treatment as he deserves--a well-seasoned switch and a tight halter. I am coming, Mrs. Werner." He ascended the stairs heavily. Ilse flew to meet him, led him into her room, and was so overcome that she laid her head on his shoulder and wept.

Mr. Hummel was silent, and looked sympathizingly at Ilse.

"So these are Court ways?" he asked, softly; "and this is the fas.h.i.+on in which people act here?"

"My husband is away. I wish to leave this place; Mr. Hummel, do help me to escape!"

"That is exactly my situation," said Mr. Hummel: "I am implicated, myself, in an elopement affair. I have come to this city in order to convey to you a request from my daughter Laura, and to bring matters to some settlement with the clergymen here. But where do you wish to go to?"

"To kind friends who will take me to my father's house."

"That will certainly be the right course," replied Mr. Hummel.

"In times of despair, when everything totters in the world, the child should go back to the father. His faithfulness remains; she is twenty years old before that of the husband begins. As your father is not here, allow one who knows what it is to feel anxious about a child to take the place of a father to you."