"
"I wish to believe it and do."
Then the little waves of air were stilled, as she went back into the
castle, doubtless because she feared to arouse suspicion, and John
returned to his work with Walther, convinced that he must form some plan
now. Von Arnheim must merely be the vanguard of the council, and Julie
might be sent away earlier than Ilse had announced. He must contrive a
way to follow.
That night he lurked once more in the shrubbery. He had been there
nearly every night, hopeful that Suzanne would pass again, but not until
tonight did she come. The tall figure, swathed almost to the eyes in a
heavy cloak, came down the terrace to the walk, and John whistled low a
note of a French folksong. He had merely hoped that she would stop a
moment or two to listen, and the little device succeeded. She paused and
looked at the black mass of the shrubbery.
"Suzanne! Suzanne!" called John, his voice showing all the intenseness
of his anxiety.
"Monsieur Scott," she said in a loud whisper.
"Yes, Suzanne, here behind the bushes! I must have word with you!"
Silently she stepped into the impenetrable shadows and John eagerly
seized her hand.
"Your mistress, Mademoiselle Julie," he whispered eagerly, "she does not
break down with the suspense and anxiety? She still hopes?"
"You need not fear for her courage, Monsieur Scott.
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