Anton's room. Silently
the latter made them over to the affrighted domestic.

He was dismissed, then--rudely and summarily dismissed; his uprightness
questioned: this breach was final. It was a bitter hour. Even now, while
indignantly pacing up and down, he felt that this insult offered him was
a punishment. True, his aim had been pure, and his actions blameless;
but the enthusiastic feelings which had led him hither had not availed
to establish proper relations between him and the baron--those of
employer and employed. It was not the freewill, the rational choice of
both, that had brought them together, but the pressure of mysterious
circumstances and his own youthful romance. And thus he had claims
beyond what his situation gave him, and by these the baron was oppressed
and cumbered.

These reflections were interrupted by Lenore's sudden entrance. "My
mother wishes to speak to you," she cried. "What will you do, Wohlfart?"

"I must go," said Anton, gravely. "To leave you thus, with your future
so uncertain, is what I never could have believed possible. There was
but one thing which could have induced me to part from you before I had
made over the property into stronger hands. And this one thing is come
to pass."

"Go!" cried Lenore, in utmost excitement. "All is crumbling around us;
there is no help to be looked for; even you can not save us; go, and
free your life from that of our sinking family."

When Anton joined the baroness, he found her lying on the sofa. "Sit
down beside me, Mr. Wohlfart," whispered she. "The hour is come in which
I must impart what, to spare myself, I have reserved for the hour when
we speak most openly to each other--the last hour spent together. The
baron's illness has so affected him that he no longer appreciates your
faithful help--nay, your presence aggravates his unhappy state. He has
so hurt your feelings that reconciliation is become impossible. Even
could you forget, we should consider the sacrifice you would be making
far too great."

"I purpose leaving the property on an early day," replied Anton.

"I can not," continued the baroness, "atone for my husband's offenses
toward you, but I wish to give you an opportunity of revenging yourself
in a manner worthy of you. The baron has attacked your honor; the
revenge that I, his wife, offer you, is to assist him to retrieve his
own."

Hitherto the baroness had spoken fluently, as was her wont in society;
now she stopped, and see