This simple question from Arno broke the silence and relieved Lucie's hesitation. "I must, Herr Baron," she replied. "I had hoped to find a home in Castle Hohenwald, but a sad fate has snatched it from me."
"Am I the cause of your flight?" Arno eagerly asked. "Do you so dread the few hours that are all I can yet pass in the castle? I leave it to-morrow. Do you hate me so bitterly?"
"I do not hate you," Lucie gently replied. And in her candid eyes, in the pressure of the little hand that still rested in his, Arno saw that she spoke the truth. "You are not the cause of my leaving Hohenwald. Your brother, who is now at the castle, will tell you the reasons for my flight."
"Werner? You have confided, then, in him?"
"No; an unfortunate chance betrayed to him my sad secret, and he has made sad use of it. Even without his interference I should have followed my father, who is restored to me after years of hopeless separation, but I should not have been forced to steal away thus, like a criminal, without one word of farewell to your father, who has treated me with such paternal kindness."
"You speak in riddles. I do not comprehend you."
"I will solve them for you," Lucie sadly replied. "You will comprehend all when I tell you that the man whom your brother has just introduced at Castle Hohenwald is the cause of my misfortunes, is my miserable husband, Herr von Sorr!"
Arno fairly staggered beneath the blow; he dropped Lucie's hand and gazed at her in horror. "You are--you--you are----"
He could not finish the sentence; hope seemed slain within him; his future was a blank.
"Do not be angry with me," Lucie said, taking his hand again. "I implore you not to be angry with me. I am so wretchedly unhappy. I could not part from you without telling you the whole truth. I have longed to do this so often, and I have bitterly repented ever coming to Hohenwald under a feigned name."
"Lucie, we are waiting!" Ahlborn called from the distance.
"Must I leave you without one word of forgiveness from you?" Lucie continued. She still held Arno's hand in hers and gazed at him with eyes of sad entreaty. Hitherto she had suppressed all expression of her sentiments towards him. Never in the intercourse of daily life at Hohenwald had she for an instant relaxed in the stern watch and ward that she kept over every gesture, every look that might encourage any hope in his mind. But this was a supreme moment; they were parting forever, and her heart clamoured for its rights.