Gretchen, troubled in heart and mind over the strange event of the night, walked slowly home, her head inclined, her arms swinging listlessly at her side. A spy, this man to whom she had joyously given the flower of her heart and soul? There was some mistake; there must be some mistake. She shivered; for the word spy carried with it all there was in deceit, treachery, cunning. In war time she knew that spies were necessary, that brave men took perilous hazards, without reward, without renown; but in times of peace nothing but opprobrium covered the word. A political scavenger, the man she loved? No; there was some mistake. The bit of newspaper cutting did not worry her. Anybody might have been curious about the doings of the king of Jugendheit and his uncle the prince regent. Because the king hunted in Bavaria with the crown prince, and his uncle conferred with the king of Prussia in Berlin, it did not necessarily follow that Leopold Dietrich was a spy. Gretchen was just. She would hear his defense before she judged him.
Marking the first crook in the Krumerweg was an ancient lamp hanging from the side of the wall. The candle in this lamp burned night and day, through winter's storms and summer's balms. The flame dimmed and glowed, a kindly reminder in the gloom. It was a shrine to the Virgin Mary; and before this Gretchen paused, offering a silent prayer that the Holy Mother preserve this dream of hers.
A footstep from behind caused her to start. The vintner took her roughly in his arms and kissed her many times.
Her heart shook within her, but she did not surrender her purpose under these caresses. She freed herself energetically and stood a little away from him, panting and star-eyed.
"Gretchen?"
She did not speak.
"What is it?"
"You ask?"
"Was it a crime, then, to jump out of the window?" He laughed.
Gretchen's face grew sterner. "Were you afraid?"
"For a moment. I have never run afoul the police. I thought perhaps we were all to be arrested."
"Well, and what then?"
"What then? Uncomfortable quarters in stone rooms. I preferred discretion to valor."
"Perhaps you did not care to have the police ask you questions?"
"What is all this about?" He pulled her toward him so that he could look into her eyes.
"What is the matter? Answer!"
"Are you not a spy from Jugendheit?" thinly.
He flung aside her hand. "So! The first doubt that enters your ear finds harbor there. A spy from Jugendheit; that is a police suggestion, and you believed it!"