Instead of regaining my usual calm in my own “sweet home,” I fell seriously ill the first night after my return. I was attacked by a nervous fever, and remained for several days insensible. My landlady now proved herself a faithful and attentive nurse, and she tells me that my life was almost despaired of for some days. I am convalescent at last, and I shall travel. You will ask where? I don’t know yet; nothing is decided.

When I was able to look over the papers which had accumulated on my table during my illness, I found a card from my uncle the minister, who had called to make inquiries about me. My worthy uncle had heard the report that I was a millionaire. I also found quite a heap of letters from Overberg and Van Beek, which I had not the courage to read; one, however, marked “Important,” I broke open. It announced the death of my uncle Von Zwenken, and I was invited to the funeral. The date told me that the letter was three weeks old! What had become of Francis?

Doubtless she was still ill-disposed towards me. She seemed to be unaware of my illness, since she had invited me to the funeral of her grandfather. What must she have thought of my silence? Not a single word of comfort or encouragement from me. What annoyances she might already have suffered from the lawyers. I was expecting my doctor every moment, and I had determined to ask his permission to start immediately for Zutphen, when I heard some one coming up the stairs, whom my landlady was endeavouring to call back, she being very strict about my being kept quiet. But, in spite of all her efforts, Rolf burst into the room—Rolf, whom I had ended by loving almost as much as I detested him the first few days of our acquaintance.

“My General is dead,” he said, with tears in his eyes—“died in my arms. Francis is gone——”

“She is not ill, however?” I interrupted quickly.

“Not in the least, she is in excellent health; but—she has turned me out of the Werve.”

“What do you say?”

“Oh, it was not done in anger or malice; but because she herself will be forced to leave the Castle very soon. In fact, she has already hired a room at farmer Pauwelsen’s; but she will tell nobody what she intends to do.”

“But tell me all the particulars of the General’s death.”

“Well, the General had not the courage to resist her, and write to Overberg in the sense you advised him. And as everything was vague and uncertain because of your answering nobody’s letters, the lawyers lost patience; and Overberg, egged on, I believe, by that quill-driver in Utrecht, wrote to Freule Mordaunt to know for certain whether or not she was engaged to you. You will guess her answer, short and dry, but without a word of reproach as far as you were concerned, I can assure you. I know she reproaches herself bitterly, and has done so since the day you left, as I told you would be the case.”

“Even after she had received the packet from me?”

“She never received anything from you.”

“That’s very surprising!”

“No, it’s not at all surprising, for everything was in the utmost confusion with us from the fatal Friday you left——But I see this is sherry, may I help myself?”

“Certainly, Captain; I beg your pardon, I ought to have thought of asking you sooner.”

“Well, then, after you were gone she fainted. Such a thing never happened to her before within my knowledge. I felt almost ashamed of her; but she loved you so much, as she later confessed to me weeping! When she came to herself again, and whilst, as we thought, she was reposing in her own room, she had stealthily gone off to the farm, ordered Tancredo to be saddled, and ridden away at full gallop. At dinner we became dreadfully uneasy as she did not put in an appearance, and neither the General nor myself could eat. But it was much worse when, in the evening twilight, young Pauwelsen came to say Tancredo had returned to the stable alone, without saddle and white with foam.”

“An accident!” I cried, beside myself. “Do tell me the worst at once. What has happened to her?”

“Oh, it was not so bad after all, Jonker—only a sprained foot; we found her lying on the moss at the foot of an oak, to which she had been able to crawl to rest herself a little.”

“I know that oak!” I exclaimed. “I feel what she must have felt there. She loves me still!”

“I believe so, Jonker, for she said we were to leave her there to die, and to tell you where she died. It appears she had ridden towards the town, and then, suddenly changing her course, was returning to the Castle through the wood; but either she must have pressed Tancredo too hard, or dropped the reins—she cannot explain it herself. But certain it is, the noble animal, no longer recognizing the hand of his mistress, galloped home, and she fell out of the saddle. We carried her home, and laid her on the sofa in the drawing-room. The surgeon declared there was no danger, but said she must not be moved for some days.”

“And why did you not send me word immediately?”

“Hum! I wanted to write to you, and she also. I ought not to tell you perhaps, but she wrote a note to you.”

“Which I never received.”

“No, for young Pauwelsen was charged to deliver it into your own hands at Zutphen; but when he arrived there they told him you had left, and he brought back the letter, which the Freule tore up, with a bitter laugh saying—

“‘I deserved no better.’”

“Oh, if I could have foreseen all this!” I cried, wringing my hands.

“I advised you to stay,” replied the Captain; “why need you go off in such a hurry?”

“My dear Captain, I felt I was going to be ill; I was ill already. But how was it she did not receive my packet? I waited until the third day for an answer.”

“What could you expect? Everything was turned upside down. Fritz had orders to place all letters on the General’s writing-table, and he had taken such an aversion to anything in the shape of a communication from the lawyers, that he never opened one of them. Miss Francis was scarcely able to move about again when those accursed creatures set to work and threatened to send in the bailiffs, and Heaven only knows what besides. Then she had to attend to everything, for the General had a second attack of paralysis: those people have been the death of him, and I could not prevent it.”

The Captain forgot to add here, what I afterwards learnt, that he had himself hastened the General’s end by administering a glass of old cognac to him under the pretext of strengthening him for the occasion of meeting the bailiffs.

“As soon as his eyes were closed,” he continued, “the lawyer from Arnheim, who was in possession of the General’s will, and Overberg advised Francis to arrange matters with you in an amicable manner; but she would not listen to them. You understand, it was in your name these proceedings had been taken against her grandfather.”

“Whilst I lay unconscious on a bed of sickness.”

“That’s what the Pharisees knew, but they had your power of attorney; and Francis said—

“‘Behold the constraint with which he threatened me! And he imagines I shall give way? Never!’ You should have seen her, how pale she was, but firm; when the men came to make the inventory of all there was in the Castle!”

“Afterwards she took me aside. ‘Rolfie,’ she said—it was her word when she wanted to get anything out of me—‘Rolfie, now tell me honestly, have you not sacrificed the greater part of your fortune to the wants of my grandfather?’

“‘Well, certainly not, Maj—Miss Francis; we have only spent that small sum which we won in the lottery. The General would make use of his part of it to try his luck once more; but I preferred spending my part on a few extras for the table that we might all enjoy it together.’

“‘Then that story of yours about an inheritance was a pure invention?’ she demanded severely.

“‘Pardon, Freule, I have inherited a nice little farm in North Brabant, where I always intended to end my days, if the Freule should’ (marry, I would have said, but I was afraid) ‘wish to dispense with my services.’

“‘And can you live comfortably on it, Captain?’

“‘Very; and, besides, I have my pension. Living is very cheap in that part of the country; if the Freule can make up her mind to go with me, we should have a very pleasant life of it together. Though it is no castle, the best room in the house is set apart for your service.’

“‘I thank you most cordially, my good Captain; I was most anxious to know whether you were provided for. But we must separate, my dear Rolf.’

“‘And where will you go, what will you do?’

“‘I cannot tell you that; but one thing is certain, you cannot go with me.’”

The Captain plied himself well with sherry to keep up his spirits, and concluded by saying—

“And so we parted, Jonker. But I thought to myself, I’ll pass through the Hague; and here I heard of your illness, and said to myself, ‘Probably the Jonker is ignorant of all that has occurred.’”

“Do you know what you must do, Rolf? Go back to the Werve at once. I shall give you a letter for the lawyers to stop all proceedings, and you will take command of the fortress until I come. Retain Fritz in the service, and try to find the packet. I shall be with you to-morrow or the day after, if my doctor will give me permission to leave my room.”

“Oh, the packet will be at Overberg’s with the rest of the General’s papers.”

“Then try to find out where Miss Francis is, and induce her to return to the Werve; but don’t tell her I am coming there.”

At the same moment my landlady brought me the following telegram from Overberg—

“Your immediate presence indispensable; no arrangement possible; F. M. has left the Castle.”

I did not hesitate any longer. Without awaiting the doctor’s leave, I got Rolf to pack my portmanteau, and we were off before he could stop us. These thick-coming events called forth all my strength, and I forgot how weak I really was.