She moved aside into the deepest shadow and gazed down into the valley; the old house stood there safe and sound, the red light of the dying flames played about its green ivy-wreathed gables and lighted up the shrubs in the garden. The barns were in ruins to be sure, but what mattered that? As she stood there gazing at the house with insatiable eyes, a light suddenly shone out behind two of the windows, gazing at her like a pair of friendly eyes. The windows were his. But the young wife found nothing reassuring in them. The terrible anxiety which had left her at the sight of the uninjured house, suddenly leaped up with renewed force. How happened it that there should be lights in his room when the fire was still smouldering down there? He in the house when his presence below was so necessary?
On--on--only to see--only to see from a distance, whether he lived and was well!
"Life hangs on the merest thread," Johanna's words sounded in her ears. "God in Heaven, have mercy, do not punish me _so_!"
At the garden-gate she stopped. What should she do here? Her ambassador had come here only to-day and had offered him money for her freedom. Ah, freedom!
Of what use is it when the heart is still held fast in chains and bands? And she ran in under the dark trees of the garden, round the little pond, on the surface of which a faint rosy shimmer of the dying fire still played, and she sank exhausted on a garden-chair under the chestnuts; just in front of her, only across the gravel walk was the house and a dim light shone out of the garden-hall.
Upstairs, the bright light was gone from his windows; shouts and voices of men still came up from the court, carriages were being pulled about, horses taken out, all mingled with the sharp hissing sound of the hose. Gertrude shivered; a great weakness had come over her, her temples throbbed, the smell of the fire nearly took her breath away.
Here she sat motionless, gazing at the steps which led to the garden-hall. Her eyes sought out step after step and at last lingered in the door. "Up there! In there!" she thought, her heart beating wildly, but pride and shame held her fast as with iron chains.
It gradually grew quieter in the court, then steps approached, firm, elastic steps. Gertrude quickly seized the dog by the collar. "Down, Diana!" she cried, hoarse with terror, and then a figure passed the bright light of the window, and brushing close by her went into the house.