Part 53 (1/2)
The prince, who had never in his life been treated in this way, looked aghast; the baroness cast down her eyes.
”That could not have happened at home, in Russia,” said the prince.
”I regret,” said the baroness, ”that accident should have made you witness so unpleasant an occurrence.”
At the same moment the servant re-entered the room, deadly pale, and cried, breathlessly:
”Oh, ma'am! come quickly! The baron is dying!”
”_Oh, mon Dieu!_” exclaimed the baroness, and seemed on the point of fainting.
”Compose yourself madame! compose yourself!” said the prince. ”Bear what has to be borne. Will you take my arm? Ho, there! show us the way!”
CHAPTER III.
About the same hour--perhaps a little earlier two gentlemen displayed at the billiard-table, in the restaurant near the main guard-house on the square, that industry which is so becoming to busy idlers. The two gentlemen who met at this favorite lounging place of the _jeunesse doree_ of Grunwald, were Cloten and Barnewitz. The former, who excelled in all the arts which required a sure eye and a steady hand, and no head work, had beaten his adversary in every game, and hence the young man was in excellent humor, while the other was nearly angry.
”Another game, Barnewitz?” asked Cloten, triumphantly, after having finished the twelfth with a brilliant carom.
”Thank you; no!” said Barnewitz, throwing his cue on the billiard-table; ”am not in the right humor for it to-day. I cannot play well anyhow in this miserable twilight!”
”We can have the lamps lit.”
”No, thank you! Another day! We can play quits to-morrow.”
Cloten now laid down his cue also, stepped before the looking-gla.s.s and twisted his blonde moustache, while Barnewitz threw himself upon the sofa and yawned.
”It is wretchedly tedious here,” he said; ”don't know how on earth to kill the whole afternoon!”
”Let us take a walk.”
”It is too abominably cold.”
”A game at piquet?”
”Too tiresome.”
”A bottle of claret?”
”Well, that's better.”
”Waiter! a bottle of Pichon and a light.”
The waiter brought what was ordered. Cloten threw himself into an arm-chair opposite to Barnewitz, and stretched out his legs.
”Well?”
”Well!”