eeing what I have this day seen?"

She hurried on. "Come," she said, "we must not waste time. He needs
help. I am going to his house to see what I can do. Where did they take
him?"

"They took him to prison."

"Where?"

"Stralsund."

"Will he be there long?"

"Till after the trial."

"And that will be?"

"God knows."

"I am going to him. Come with me. We will take his horses."

"Oh, dear Miss, dear Miss," cried Manske, wringing his hands, "they will
not let us see him--you they will not let in under any circumstances,
and me only across mountains of obstacles. The official who conducted
the arrest, when I prayed for permission to visit my dear patron, was
brutality itself. 'Why should you visit him?' he asked, sneering. 'The
prison chaplain will do all that is needful for his soul.' 'Let it be,
Manske,' said my dear patron, but still I prayed. 'I cannot give you
permission,' said the man at last, weary of my importunity, 'it rests
with my chief. You must go to him.'"

"Who is the chief?"

"I know not. I know nothing. My head is in a whirl."

"He must be somewhere in Stralsund. We will find him, if we have to ask
from door to door. And I'll get permission for myself."

"Oh, dearest Miss, none will be given you. The man said only his nearest
relatives, and those only very seldom--for I asked all I could, I felt
the moments were priceless--my dear patron spoke not a word. 'His wife,
if he has one,' said the man, making hideous pleasantries--he well knew
there is no wife--or his _Braut_, if there is one, or a brother or a
sister, but no one else."

"Do his brothers and Trudi know?"

"I at once telegraphed to them."

"Then they will be here to-night."

The women and children in the village ran out to look at Anna as she
passed. She did not see them. Axel's house stood open. The Mamsell,
overcome by the shame of having been in such a service, was in hysterics
in the kitchen, and the inspector, a devoted servant who loved his
master, was upbraiding her with bitterest indignation for daring to say
such things of such a master. The Mamsell's laments and the inspector's
furious reproaches echoed through the empty house. The door, like the
gate, was garlanded with flowers. Little more than an hour had gone by
since Axel passed out beneath them to ruin.

Anna went straight to the study. His papers were lying about in
disorder; the drawer of the writing-table was unlocked, and his keys
hung in it He had be