Frederic shook his head. "Only a little! I remember the great ship we were going to sail on over the water, and how my father let go my hand, and sent me to my mother; how all at once father and mother were both gone, and I stood alone in a narrow street among a crowd of people. I must have screamed loudly and wept bitterly, for I did not become quiet until Erdmann took me in his arms and carried me to his wife. That is all I know."
"And have you never since heard from your parents?"
"Never! They must have died over there in America, or they forgot me. No one has ever cared for me my whole life long--nobody but my master."
Jane clasped his hand more tightly. "Your parents did not forget you, Fritz; they sought for you, and bitterly enough mourned your loss for many years--they--would gladly have given all their riches to have their child once more; but he could not be found."
An anxious, troubled look passed over Frederic's face, he made a vain attempt to raise himself upright in the bed.
"Did you know my parents, Miss?" he asked; "did you ever meet them in America?"
Frederic's head sank languidly back on the pillow.
She bent close down to him, her breath swept his cheeks, and her voice sank to a whisper,
"When your mother went to the ship, she was not alone, she carried a little child in her arms. Do you remember that child?"
Around his lips vibrated a faint but happy smile. "Yes, my little sister, our Jennie! She must have been very little then, only a few weeks old, but I loved her so dearly!"
"And that sister"--for a moment Jane was silent, voice and strength failed her--"would it give you joy to see her? Shall I show her to you?"
Frederic gazed at her with a foreboding, expectant glance; her eyes, the tone of her voice had already revealed to him the truth.
"My Fritz! My Brother!" broke out Jane passionately, and fell on her knees by the bedside. She did not heed the pain of her wound, she did not feel it at this instant.
But the effect of this revelation was quite other than she had dreamed. The passionate excitement she had feared, did not come; Frederic lay there calm as before, and gazed at her, but there was something like anxiety, like timidity in his glance; he softly withdrew his hand from hers and turned his head away.