CHAPTER XIV.

In the evening the Ferber family were sitting in the shade of the lindens at the spring. Frau Ferber and Miss Mertens were busied in making a rug which was to lie upon the floor under the piano in winter time.

Frau Ferber had lost for awhile that dignified composure that so well became her still beautiful face. She could not forget the afternoon's occurrence; for, although she saw her child before her safe and sound, she had been very much agitated by Miss Mertens' account. She looked frequently at Elizabeth, fearing, as she remarked her slightest change of colour, that some illness would ensue from the excitement that she had passed through. The father's views were different. "That's my brave daughter!" he said with sparkling eyes, "determine coolly and execute quickly,--thus I would have you do."

To Frau Ferber, her husband had always seemed the ideal of what a man should be. Even now, after so many years of married life, she followed blindly where he led; and in her estimation his opinions admitted of no question. But to-day, as she listened to his paternal praises, a sigh escaped her as she remarked that a mother loved her children infinitely more than a father possibly could.

"Certainly not more, only differently," was Ferber's quiet rejoinder. "It is because I love them that I educate them to be full-grown, responsible beings, capable of thinking and acting courageously and independently, that they may never belong to the miserable class whom want of all force of character condemns to constant suffering."

Elizabeth had also brought her work-basket into the garden, but little Ernst looked greatly disappointed as he saw her take out her sewing.

"Very well, then, Elsie," he said petulantly. "Herr von Walde may ask me a dozen times if I love you,--I shall not say yes again. You never play with me any more; and, I suppose, you think you are as big a girl as Miss Mertens! But you needn't think that,--you won't be for a long while yet."

They all laughed at this odd confounding of age with size. But Elizabeth rose immediately to amuse the little boy, tucked up her long dress, and drew lots which should chase and which run from the other; and then they were both off like a flash, up and down the rampart, hither and thither through the garden.

In the mean time there was a ring at the gate in the wall. Herr Ferber opened it, and Dr. Fels, Reinhard, and the forester appeared upon the threshold. Elizabeth was just running along the principal walk, and did not immediately see the visitors.

"Well, I must say," laughed Dr. Fels, standing still, "this is a wonderful transformation. In the afternoon Valkyria, and in the evening a butterfly!"

But the forester advanced, threw his arm around his niece, and then held her off at arm's length, that he might scan her delicate figure. "My fine darling!" he cried with sparkling eyes, "she looks as fragile and delicate as though she were made of ivory, and yet she has the force of a man in her heart and hands; 'tis an immense pity you are not a boy. I would clap you into a green hunting-coat in spite of all that your father could say."

In the mean while Dr. Fels also drew near, and held out his hand to Elizabeth. "Herr von Walde rode to town to-night," he said, "and requested me to come hither. He is very anxious to know that your fright and terror have produced no evil consequences."

"None whatever," she replied, blushing deeply. "As you see," she added, laughing, "I am perfectly well able to perform my sisterly duties, and Ernst has just assured me that I am very hard to catch."

"Well, I will carry Herr von Walde this message, word for word," said the doctor with an arch smile. "Let him decide whether it is a comforting one, or the contrary."

Ferber now invited the gentlemen to join the circle beneath the lindens. The doctor lighted a cigar and seemed most content. They discussed Linke's attempt very fully. After his dismissal from Lindhof, many of the underhand dealings by which he had taken advantage of his master's absence, had come to light. Although Herr von Walde had taken no steps to bring the offender to justice, the knowledge of his dishonesty spread abroad, and was the means of preventing the superintendent from procuring another situation. Undoubtedly this had filled the measure of his desire for revenge, and had excited him to to-day's deed. Every means had been tried for the apprehension of the assassin; the forester with his men had searched the forest, but their exertions had been followed by no result. Reinhard said that every one at Castle Lindhof had been forbidden to mention the matter to Fraeulein von Walde, lest the fright should injure her. And the baroness, Hollfeld, and the old waiting-maid were to know nothing of it.

"Herr von Walde has also requested," he continued, "that the matter should be kept as secret as possible in L----, for he knows that half the town is invited for to-morrow's fete."

"That is, everything that creeps or flies upon a golden, silver, or coloured field," interrupted the doctor sarcastically; "every coat of arms that can be found, and all the court-councillors, and officials. Oh, the selection has been made upon the strictest principles of court etiquette, I assure you. So I have enjoined it upon my wife to conduct herself with becoming humility, like a crow among soaring falcons. To our surprise the baroness,--for she manages the whole affair,--has sent us an invitation."

"Apropos, my dear doctor!" cried Reinhard laughing, "they told me in L---- to-day that the old Princess Catharine wished to install you as her physician, but you declined the honour,--is that true? All L---- is actually standing on its head with surprise."

"Ah, that is nothing new; the dear little town passes half its time in that posture, and the consequence is that the light of intelligence shines upon the tough soles of its feet. But you have heard correctly. I was sufficiently bold to decline that honour."

"But why?"

"First, because I have no time to be coddling the hysterical whims of her aristocratic head every day; and then my sacred respect for court etiquette is too great."

"Yes, yes," cried the forester, laughing, "that is the reason why I always cross myself three times when I leave the royal castle behind me. The prince and princess,--our good princess especially troubles no one,--they shut their eyes when mere matters of ceremony are not according to stiff, prescribed rules; but that court mob, that lisps and crawls and wags its tail about them,--heaven help us! it absolutely shrieks murder if a man walks boldly and uprightly, and goes into fits at the sound of a voice that comes clear and full from the chest just as God meant it should."

It had grown very dark. The family and Miss Mertens accompanied the visitors to the gate in the wall; and, as they all stepped forth upon the open sward, they heard sweet sounds floating up from the valley through the forest, which lay steeped in the silence of night, and where the birds had ceased to flit among the boughs, and even the breeze had fallen asleep in the tree-tops in the midst of the strange tales from distant lands that it whispered to them every evening. The band from the town was serenading Herr von Walde.