Marie at that burst into weeping so pitiful, that I was glad to send the men out, bidding them make a larger circuit and inquire in the camp. When they were gone, I turned to Count Leuchtenstein to see how he took it. I found him leaning against the wall, his face grave, dark, and thoughtful.
'There seems a fatality in it!' he muttered, meeting my eyes, but speaking to himself. 'That it should be lost again--at this moment! Yet, God's will be done. He who sent the chain to my hands can still take care of the child.'
He paused a moment in deep thought, and then, advancing to Marie Wort, who had thrown herself into a chair and was sobbing passionately with her face on the table, he touched her on the shoulder.
'Good girl!' he said kindly. 'Good girl! But doubtless the child is safe. Before night it will be found.'
She sprang up and faced him, her cheeks flaming with anger. I suppose the questions he had put to her had made no distinct impression on her mind.
'Oh,' she cried, in the voice of a shrew, 'how you prate! By night it will be found, will it? How do you know? But the child is nothing to you--nothing!'
'Girl,' he said solemnly, yet gently, 'the child is my child--my only child, and the hope of my house.'
She looked at him wildly. 'Who are you, then?' she said, her voice sinking almost to a whisper.
'I am his father,' he answered; when I looked to hear him state his name and titles. 'And as his father, I thank and bless you for all that you have done for him.'
'His mother?' she whispered, open-eyed with awe.
'His mother is dead. She died three years ago,' he answered gravely. 'And now tell me your name, for I must go.'
'You must go!' she exclaimed. 'You will go--you can go--and your child lost and wandering?'
'Yes,' he replied, with a dignity which silenced her, 'I can, for I have other and greater interests to guard than those of my house, and I dare not be negligent. He may be found to-morrow, but what I have to do to-day cannot be done to-morrow. See, take that,' he continued more gently, laying a heavy purse on the table before her. 'It is for you, for your own use--for your dowry, if you have a lover. And remember always that, in the house of Hugo of Leuchtenstein, at Cassel, or Marburg, or at the Schloss by Leuchtenstein, you will find a home and shelter, and stout friends whenever you need them. Now give me your name.'