~ "Forget the coins, we'll use Mommy's letter!"

"And you can lick it up!"

"Like a dog!"

Melchior's rage overtook him, and he punched and kicked himself free from the horrid boys.

He ran and ran until he approached the large wall at the end of the reformatory yard. Hurriedly he climbed up and over, and jumped down onto the free ground.

Melchior started to sprint away, towards the road, towards his home.

He had to find her, so that they could find a better life together. Not just for them, but for the child she carried within her. Their child.

~ "Where are we going, Mama?"

Wendla was beginning to become frightened. Her mother had not spoken to her and was acting so secretive since the day they discovered she was to have a child.

Now Frau Bergman was leading her through an unfamiliar street in the village, to a small broken down building.

She knocked on the door three times, and a man answered with a dark gleam in his eye. "Frau Bergman?"

How does he know Mama? Wendla wondered. Now she was really scared.

"I'll take her now," he nodded to her mother. He grabbed Wendla by the arm and tried to pull her inside.

"Mama?" she asked.

"I'll be with you every moment," Frau Bergman patted her hand gently before suddenly letting go.

The man now had complete hold on Wendla and dragged completely through the doorway.

"Mama, Mama don't leave me!" she screamed. "Mama!"

The door slammed shut, and Wendla began to sob. What was going to happen to her? Why was her mother leaving her here all alone?

She turned and looked around the dim room. There was only a single window, barred with two pieces of wood. There was only a crack of light streaming between the planks, which landed on a dark stained mattress in the center of the room. Next to it was a small table with glistening sharp metal objects lying across, dirty and foul smelling.

Wendla was horrified. Was her mother having her killed? Could be having a child out of marriage be that sinful?

The man loosened his grip from her and she quickly pulled away.

"Leave me alone!" she cried. The man pressed his finger to her lips to silence her.

"Don't be frightened," he said softly. " My name is Franz. I'm not going to hurt you."

"Then why am I here?" Wendla lashed out to him. "Why did my mama leave me here alone?"

Sighing, Franz explained to the young girl what her mother wanted to be done. As he spoke, she began to look even more frightened.

"No!" she cried when he had finished. "I would never let anyone do that to my child! Never!"

"I know," he said sadly. "I wish I could say the same."

"What do you mean?" Wendla asked, unsure of why the man was so sad.

"Years ago, I had a daughter just about your age. She fell in love with a boy, and soon bore his child. Her mother and I were shocked and disappointed in her, just as your mother is towards you, but unlike my wife, I accepted it, and looked forward to having a grandchild."

"My wife, however," he continued, "wanted nothing of the sort. She told me that the child could not be found out about, and since we had no money to leave our village or send away our daughter, then the infant was to die."

"I was a doctor at the time, and had training in caring for expectant mothers, but not for terminating a pregnancy. My wife forced me to perform the procedure anyway, and I took the life of not only an innocent babe, but my own little girl."

Franz had tears running down his face, and he was now bracing himself against the wall.

"I am so sorry," Wendla said comfortingly. She put her hand to his shoulder.

Franz straightened himself up, and in return put his hand on hers.

"You remind me so much of my little Wilhelmina, which is why I am helping you escape. Now, very quietly, I want you to leave this place. Leave, run away and don't ever come back! Find the father of your child if you wish and start a new life together."

He sighed. "Maybe you could help bring some sense to this world."

Wendla smiled. "Oh thank you! Thank you so much!" She wrapped her arms around him.

Franz tried at first to pull away, but relented and returned the quick embrace.

"Go, now!" He opened a secret door in the wall, which showered the room in bright light.

Wendla, as quickly and quietly as she could, slipped out the door and ran down the street. How would she find Melchior?

She knew she had to find someone who could help her find him; someone she could trust.

Wendla fled the town until she reached the small cottage where Ilse resided alone. She knocked on the door, praying that her friend was home.

After a few moments, the door swung open and Ilse invited her inside. Wendla told her everything thing that had happened, from being with Melchior in the hayloft to when Franz set her free.

"I can't go home, Ilse," she finished. "If I do, Mama will try to get rid of my child, and I'll never see Melchior again!"

"Don't worry," Ilse assured her. "You can stay with me. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

One week later…

"Wendla! Come quickly!"

Wendla rushed into the parlor to find Ilse holding up a piece of paper.

"It's from Melchior," she said.

"Let me see!" Wendla took the letter and read:

Ilse,

I have been running for days, but at last I am back.

Now I beg of you, for the sake of our old friendship, bring Wendla to meet me tonight in the graveyard behind the church. I will be waiting there at midnight.

Melchior Gabor

"Oh, Ilse, how wonderful!" Wendla was beaming. " I must get ready! Oh Melchior, at last!"