“That you are—­What do you say, Albert?” she asked.

“Have you not seen Brother Wenck’s letter to your father, Elise?”

She shook her head.

“The lot—­the lot—­” he repeated, but his voice refused to help him tell the tale.

“Albert, may I see the letter?” Father and Mother Loretz might have rejoiced in their daughter could they have seen and heard her in those trying moments.  Her gentleness and her serene dignity said for her that she would not be over-thrown by the storm which had burst upon her in a moment, unlocked for as tempest and whirlwind out of a clear sky.

Spener thrust into her hands the letter addressed to him that morning by the minister.  It contained an announcement of the decision rendered by the lot, couched in terms more brief, perhaps, than those which conveyed the same intelligence to the father of Elise.

She gave it back to him without a word.

“If Brother Wenck is going to stand by it,” said he, “there’ll be no room for him in this place.  I was just going to his house to tell him so.  Will you go with me?  I should like to have a witness.  I’ll make short work of it.”

“No,” said Elise, shrinking back amazed from her companion.  “I will not go with you to insult that good man.”

“You will go with me—­not to his house, then!  Come, Elise, we must talk about this.  You must help me untie this knot.  I cannot imagine how I ever permitted things to take their chance.  I have never heard of a sillier superstition than I seem to have encouraged.  Talk about faith!  Let a man act up to light and take the consequences.  I can see clear enough now. You never looked for this to happen, Elise?”

She shook her head.  Indeed, she never had—­no, not for a moment.

“To think I should have permitted it to go on!”

“But you did let it go on—­and I—­consented.  Do not let me forget that,” she exclaimed.  “I will go home, Albert.”

“Ha, Elise!  I wish I could feel more confidence in your teachers when you get there.”

“I need no one to tell me what my duty is just here,” she answered.

“Have you ever loved me, child? Child!  I am talking to a rock.  You do not yield to this?” He waved the letter aloft, and as if he would dash it from him.  Elise looked at him, and did not speak.  “Sister Benigna will of course feel called upon to bless the Lord,” said he.  “But Wenck shall find a way out of this difficulty.  Then we will have done with them both, my own.”

“Am I to have no voice in this matter?” she asked.  “What if I say—­”

Spener grasped her hand so suddenly that, as if in her surprise she had forgotten what she was about to say, Elise added, “Sister Benigna is my best friend.  She knows nothing about the lot.”

“Does not?”

“I told you, Albert, that it was to be so.  And—­you do not mean to threaten Mr. Wenck?”