This discovery awoke anxieties in Wilhelm.  He thought of the beautiful child Felix with the liveliest apprehension, and expressed his wish to remove him from the state in which he was.

“We can soon arrange that,” said Lothario.  “I think you ought yourself to take charge of him; what in us the women leave uncultivated, children cultivate when we retain them near us.”

It was agreed to lose no time in putting this plan into execution, and Wilhelm departed forthwith to fetch the child.

Passing through the house, he found Aurelia’s old serving-maid, whom he had never seen at close quarters before, employed in sewing.  Felix and Mignon were sitting by her on the floor.

“Art thou the person,” he demanded earnestly, “from whom Aurelia received this child?”

She looked up, and turned her face to him; he saw her in full light, and started back in terror.  It was old Barbara!

“Where is Mariana?” cried he.

“Far from here.”

“And Felix?”

“Is the son of that unhappy and too tender-hearted girl.  Here are Mariana’s last words,” she added, handing him a letter.

“She is dead?” cried he.

“Dead,” said the old woman.

A bitter grief took hold of Wilhelm; he could scarcely read the words that Barbara placed before him.

“If this should reach thee, then lament thine ill-starred friend.  The boy, whose birth I survived but a few days, is thine.  I die faithful to thee, much as appearances may be against me; with thee I lost everything that bound me to life.  This will be my only comfort, that though I cannot call myself blameless, towards thee I am free from blame.”

Wilhelm was stupified by this news.  He removed the children from Barbara’s care, and took them both back with him to Lothario’s castle.  Felix he kept with him, while Mignon, who was not in the best of health, was sent by the baron to the house of his sister, at some distance.

III.—­Wilhelm’s Apprenticeship

One evening Jarno said to Wilhelm, “We can now consider you as one of ourselves with such security that it were unjust not to introduce you deeper into our mysteries.  You shall see what a curious little world is at your very hand, and how well you are known in it.”  He led our friend through certain unknown chambers and galleries of the castle to a door, strongly framed with iron.  Jarno knocked; the door opened a little, so as to admit one person.  Jarno introduced our friend, but did not follow him.

Within was complete darkness.  A voice cried “Enter”; he pressed forward and found that only tapestry was hemming him in.  Raising this, he entered.  Within, he found a man, who said, in a tone of dignity, “To guard from error is not the instructor’s duty, but to lead the erring pupil; nay, let him quaff his error in deep, satiating draughts; he who only tastes his error will long dwell with it; he who drains it to the dregs will, if he be not crazy, find it out.”