Part 32 (2/2)

In the courtyard the senior-lieutenant suddenly stood still. ”The devil! I am horribly thirsty!” he said, clearing his throat.

”Shall I fetch you a gla.s.s of beer from the bar?” suggested Reimers.

”No, don't bother. Water will do me more good,” replied Guntz.

He returned to the arbour, fetched a gla.s.s, and went to the well. The pump creaked discordantly in the stillness of the night.

In the moonlight Reimers saw how his friend drank the clear water with eager gulps, filled the gla.s.s again, and again emptied it.

Then they went towards the shed in which the bicycles had been stored.

”That was delicious water,” said Guntz, with a sigh of satisfaction.

”The strength of the forest and of the earth!”

The shed was badly lighted by a miserable oil lamp. The two machines were leaning against the wall. Outside was a third--Landsberg's. Guntz pushed it in under cover.

”It would be a pity,” he said, ”for the night dew to spoil the nickel.”

They wheeled their bicycles slowly through the gate, and as they were starting Guntz said: ”Look here, dear boy; will you go to Landsberg early to-morrow morning and take him a challenge? I will see about the announcement to the court of honour myself.”

Reimers answered simply, ”Yes.” And then he added: ”But what are the conditions?”

The senior-lieutenant considered for a moment.

”Oh, well,” he said at last, ”the court of honour will decide as to that. Meanwhile, say fifteen paces, and three exchanges of shots.”

”Right.”

”Well, off then! But look out, it's horribly dark.”

The two friends rode in silence until they reached the garden gate of Guntz's house. The senior-lieutenant would have said a mere brief farewell, but Reimers held him fast.

”Guntz,” he said, ”I can't help thinking that a challenge on grounds connected with the service is incorrect. And--I believe that it is so in the present instance.”

”Yes,” replied Guntz, ”the private reason is undoubtedly connected with the service. Landsberg wishes to revenge himself because I reprimanded him sharply. But overtly the affair has arisen quite otherwise. I have no alternative but to challenge him.”

”Yes, you are right,” acknowledged Reimers. He stood awhile leaning against his bicycle, deep in thought, until Guntz pressed his hand, and said, ”Good night, dear boy!”

And Reimers answered, ”Good-night, my dear Guntz.” Guntz put his bicycle carefully away, and then quietly went upstairs. During the summer months, when his duty sometimes began at five o'clock or even earlier, he occupied a small bedroom next to the larger one in which his wife and child slept. But the door of communication between the two rooms was always open.

In a few rapid movements he took off his sword and his spurred boots.

Then he went to the door of the bedroom and listened in the darkness. A slight breeze came from the garden and moved the lowered window-blind with the regularity of a pendulum. Somewhere in the gra.s.s a cricket was chirping; and through the slight noises the deep contented breathing of the two sleepers could be heard, slow and deep the mother's, and the child's soft and light.

Guntz leant against the lintel and listened lovingly to the sweet, regular sounds. This room contained a world of happiness for him; and the breathing of his sleeping dear ones was to him the most priceless music.

Suddenly he s.h.i.+vered in the warm August air. An over-powering fatigue almost paralysed his limbs, and one single horrible thought filled his mind.

Wearily he pulled off his clothes, and was soon wrapped in heavy sleep.

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