ther."

"But I know the right messenger," said Maria. "We'll send Junker Georg."

"That's a good suggestion," said Peter. "We shall find him in his
lodgings. I must go to Van Hout, who lives close by, and will send the
German to you. But my time is limited, and with such gentlemen, fair
women can accomplish more than bearded men. Farewell, dear Fraulein,
once more--we rejoice to have you for our guest."

When the burgomaster had left the room, Henrica said:

"How quickly, and how differently from what I expected, all this
has happened. I love you. I am under obligations to you, but to be
imprisoned, imprisoned. The walls will press upon me, the ceiling will
seem like a weight. I don't know whether I ought to rejoice or despair.
You have great influence with the Junker. Tell him about Anna, touch his
heart, and if he would go, it would really be best for us both."

"You mean for you and your sister," replied Maria with a repellent
gesture of the hand. "There is the lamp. When the Junker comes, we shall
see each other again."

Maria went to her room and threw herself on the couch, but soon rose and
paced restlessly to and fro. Then stretching out her clasped hands, she
exclaimed:

"Oh, if he would only go, if he would only go! Merciful God! Kind,
gracious Father in Heaven, grant him every happiness, every blessing,
but save my peace of mind; let him go, and lead him far, far away from
here."

CHAPTER XXV.

The tavern where Georg von Dornburg lodged stood on the "broad street,"
and was a fine building with a large court-yard, in which were numerous
vehicles. On the left of the entrance was a large open room entered
through a lofty archway. Here the drivers and other folk sat over their
beer and wine, suffering the innkeeper's hens to fly on the benches and
even sometimes on the table, here vegetables were cleaned, boiled and
fried, here the stout landlady was frequently obliged to call her
sturdy maid and men servants to her aid, when her guests came to actual
fighting, or some one drank more than was good for him. Here the new
custom of tobacco-smoking was practised, though only by a few sailors
who had served on Spanish ships--but Frau Van Aken could not endure
the acrid smoke and opened the windows, which were filled with blooming
pinks, slender stalks of balsam, and cages containing bright-plumaged
goldfinches. On the side opposite to the entrance were two closed
rooms. Above the door of one, neatly ca