"For me, Franz?" she asked, in great surprise. "Who could have brought it?"
"The Fräulein may well be surprised at the fellow's impudence. A servant-man from Grünhagen brought it, and refuses to return without an answer!" was the reply. After which Franz left the room with the air of having made his protest, although vainly, against some crying sin.
Lucie paid him but little heed; she opened her note and read:
"Dear Fräulein Müller,--I am to leave Grünhagen to-night for I cannot say how long, perhaps forever. I am going to Berlin to obtain permission to enter the Prussian army as a volunteer. Must I go without seeing my dearest Celia once more? May I not bid her good-bye and tell her how dear she is to me? I promised you not to see Celia again until you consented to our meeting, and I will keep my promise if you refuse to release me from it upon this one occasion; but I pray you to allow us to see each other once more, perhaps for the last time in this world.
"I do not ask to see my darling alone. Pray come with her to the old place of meeting in the forest, where I will await you. Let me hope that you will grant my request. I need not tell you with what impatience I look for your answer, a simple 'yes' or 'no,' by the bearer of this.
Lucie was profoundly touched by Kurt's note. Celia too, then, was to suffer the pain of seeing her lover depart for the war. Poor, and yet happy Celia! She might hope that if he whom she loved returned alive the old Freiherr would relent, and her love be crowned with happiness; while if Arno returned, if he should ever seek her again, what then? For her hope did not exist.
"I will be at the appointed spot at the usual time; whether Celia will accompany me or not depends upon the decision of the Freiherr von Hohenwald. Anna Müller."
She sealed her note, addressed it to Herr von Poseneck, and hurried down to the court-yard to deliver it herself to the Grünhagen messenger, upon whom she enjoined the utmost despatch. She did not observe that as she spoke with the man Franz was watching her from the hall, while Arno, who was crossing the court-yard, paused in astonishment as he heard her words. Was she really so intimate with young Poseneck that she corresponded with him? Perhaps the letter after all might not have been for Kurt von Poseneck; but all doubts on this head were set at rest by Franz, who, exercising his prerogative as a privileged servant, said grumblingly, as his young master passed him in the hall, "Fine doings in Hohenwald, when the Fräulein receives letters from Herr von Poseneck, and even condescends to answer them!" This was enough to arouse once more within Arno's heart the demon of jealousy, which Lucie's words to him should have killed forever.