"That what is done must be all undone. I know you to be brave.
Strengthen your heart, then. I stand before you the most wretched man in
all this duchy. These men affirm that I am not your father. They say
that you are not my daughter."
"And that Gretchen is!" spoke Hans. His conscience was costing every one
something dear.
"I?" Gretchen drew closer to Hildegarde.
The duke studied the portrait of the mother and then the faces of these
two girls. Both possessed a resemblance, only it seemed now that
Gretchen was nearest to the portrait and Hildegarde nearest to the
doubt.
"You say she wore the costume of a Gipsy child when you lost her?" said
the duke.
"Yes." Von Arnsberg took from under his coat a small bundle which he
opened with shaking fingers. He had been in the Krumerweg that
afternoon.
"Why, those are mine!" exclaimed Gretchen excitedly.
"You see?" said Von Arnsberg. "Would you not like to be a princess,
Gretchen?"
A princess? Gretchen's heart fluttered. A princess? She saw the king
shaking the bars of his cell; she heard his voice calling out his love
for her. A princess? She laid her head on Hildegarde's shoulder. She was
weak, and this was some dream.
"But who, then, am I?" asked Hildegarde. There was no sign of weakness
here.
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