It was now for the first time that Annie learned the true extent of the injury which Will had suffered; and this had the effect of immediately altering her resolutions. It was with a dangerous throb of the heart that she was told how he might not leave his bed for days, or even weeks, so prostrated was he by loss of blood; and anxious—terribly anxious, as she was to get free from the place, she could not bear the thought of stealing away, and leaving him to the unknown chances of the future.
The Count had almost begun to fancy that it was the horror of the accident that she had caused which was driving her away from the too painful witnessing of its results; but she now said that she would not leave until Will was entirely out of danger. He could not understand her, or her motives; above all, he was puzzled by the unwonted earnestness of her expression—its new life and intensity. He knew nothing of the fire at the heart which kept that slumbering light in the dark eyes.
"And in a few days, Grete, you go to the Feldberg?" she asked.
"Is there an inn there at which one can stay?"
"There is, mademoiselle—right on the top of the mountain, if you choose to go so high. My cousin Aenchen lives down in the valley."
"I hope, Miss Brunel," said the Count, anxiously, "you won’t think of leaving Schönstein so long as you remain in this district. The accident which has happened, I know, may rob the neighbourhood of some of its attractions; but what better will the Feldberg be?"
She paid no attention to him. She was only determined not to see Will Anerley again; and yet there was in her heart a vague desire to be near him—to be under the same daylight—to look on the same scenes, and hear the same quaint strange talk that he listened to.
"When must you go to see your cousin?" she asked.
"Very shortly," said Grete. "Aenchen Baumer goes to a convent in Freiburg, where she will learn English, and fine needlework, and many things. She is a good friend of mine, and a companion once; and I want to see her before she goes."
"If you wait a few days, we shall go to the Feldberg together."
"And will madame, your mamma, go also?" she asked, rejoiced to think she had not the journey to make alone.
"Yes; but the lady is not my mamma, Grete. _She_ died when I was scarcely your age; and this is my second mother, who has been with me ever since."