Part 20 (1/2)
”This Hochberg is really worth seeing,” said Frau von Eschenhagen, her eyes roaming over the country. ”We have almost the same view here as upon the top of the tower. Why climb and overheat oneself and lose one's breath on those never-ending steps?”
”Adelaide was of a different opinion,” replied Wallmoden, with a casual glance at the tower. ”She does not know fatigue nor how to get overheated.”
”And also how not to catch cold. She proved that the day before yesterday, when she came home drenched through. She did not catch the least cold.”
”Nevertheless, I have requested her to take an escort for her future walks,” said the Amba.s.sador, calmly. ”To get lost in the forest, wade a creek, and be guided to the right path by the first hunter one comes across are things which must not occur again. Adelaide agreed with me and promised immediately to obey my wishes.”
”Yes, she is a sensible woman, a thoroughly healthy nature from which anything romantic or adventurous is far removed,” complimented Regine.
”But there seem to be more visitors upon the tower. I thought we should be the only guests to-day.”
Wallmoden looked indifferently at the tall, slender gentleman who now emerged from the small tower door and walked toward the inn. Frau von Eschenhagen also looked at him carelessly; but suddenly her glance grew keener, and she started.
”Herbert--look!”
”Where?”
”That stranger there. What a strange resemblance!”
”To whom?” asked Herbert, growing more attentive and looking sharply at the stranger.
”To--impossible! That is not only a resemblance. It is he himself.”
She sprang up, pale with excitement, and her look fastened itself upon the features of the man just now putting his foot upon the first step of the veranda. She met his eyes, those dark, glowing eyes, which had so often shone upon her from the face of the boy, and the last doubt disappeared.
”Hartmut--Hartmut Falkenried--you----”
She was suddenly silenced by Wallmoden's laying his hand heavily upon her arm and saying slowly, but with emphasis: ”You are mistaken, Regine. We do not know this gentleman.”
Hartmut stopped short when he caught sight of Frau von Eschenhagen, who had been hidden by the foliage. He was not prepared for her presence.
At the moment he recognized her the words of the Amba.s.sador reached his ear. He knew that icy tone only too well; it forced the blood to his brow.
”Herbert!” Regine looked doubtingly at her brother, who still held her by the arm.
”We do not know him,” he repeated in the same tone.
”Is it possible that I have to tell you that, Regine?”
She understood now his meaning. With a half threatening, half painful glance, she turned her back upon the son of her friend and said, with deep bitterness:
”You are right. I was mistaken.”
Hartmut started, and in rising anger he drew a step nearer.
”Herr von Wallmoden!”
”Did you speak to me?” The tone was as stinging and scornful as before.
”You have antic.i.p.ated my wishes, Your Excellency,” said Hartmut, forcing himself to be calm. ”I wished to ask you not to recognize me.
We are strangers to each other.”