the count really here?" said Camilla's father to the footman. "Is he
in this room?"

"Yes, gracious count, my master came home a few minutes ago. Without
saying a word, he went to his room, and locked himself up."

The old count stepped to the door, and, grasping the knob, shook it
violently. "Count Pueckler, open the door," he cried aloud. "Your
father-in-law and the mother of your betrothed are standing at your
door, and ask to be admitted!"

"Frederick! Frederick!" begged Camilla, "I am on my knees in front of
your door-sill, and implore you to have mercy--to have compassion on me!
Oh, do not close your heart against me--oh, let me come in, my dear
friend!" She paused and listened, hoping to hear a word or a movement
inside. But every thing remained silent.

"If you refuse to listen to our supplications, we shall enter by
force," exclaimed the count.

"My son," wailed the old countess, "if you will not listen to us, at
least have mercy on my daughter, for she will die of grief if you desert
her."

"My Frederick, I love you so tenderly--do not repel me!" wailed Camilla.

All was silent. "I must use force," said the count, concealing his
anguish under the guise of anger. "Hasten to a locksmith," he added,
turning to the footman; "he is to come here at once, and bring his tools
with him. Notify also the officers at the neighboring police-station."
The footman withdrew.

"My beloved," cried Camilla, wringing her hands, and her face bathed in
a flood of tears, "my Frederick, I love you better than my life! Your
wish shall be complied with. Open your door, and admit me. If I cannot
live I will die with you! Oh, do not remain silent--give me a sign that
you are still living--tell me at least that you forgive me--that--"

She paused, for a song suddenly resounded in the room; it was not a song
of sorrow, but of wrath and manly courage. The words were as follows:

"Tod du suesser, fuer das Vaterland!
Suesser als der Brautgruss, als das Lallen
Auf dem Mutterschooss des ersten Kindes,
Sei mir willkommen!

Was das Lied nicht loeset, loest das Schwert,
Blinkend Heil, umguerte meine Hueften,
Von der Schande kannst du Tapfre retten,
Zierde der Tapfern!"[30]

[Footnote 30: See p. 18.]

The voice died away. Camilla was on her knees, with clasped hands; her
parents stood behind her in devout silence. Suddenly noisy footsteps
drew near. At the entrance of the corridor appeared the footm