Part 67 (2/2)
”Oh yes, Natalie,” he said, gravely. ”I may not have to leave England for a week or two. I will see you as often as I can until I go, my darling, though it may only be torture to you.”
”Torture?” she said, sadly. ”That will come after--until there is an end of the pain.”
”Hush, you must not talk like that. You have now one with you whom it is your duty to support and console. She has not had a very happy life either, Natalie.”
He was glad now that he was able to leave this terror-stricken girl in such tender hands. And as for himself, he found, when he had left, that somehow the strengthening of another had strengthened himself. He had less dread of the future; his face was firm; the time for vain regrets was over.
CHAPTER XLIII.
A QUARREL.
Meanwhile, almost immediately after George Brand had left the house in Lisle Street, Reitzei and Beratinsky left also. On shutting the street-door behind them, Beratinsky bade a curt good-night to his companion, and turned to go; but Reitzei, who seemed to be in very high spirits, stayed him.
”No, no, friend Beratinsky; after such a fine night's work I say we must have a gla.s.s of wine together. We will walk up to the Culturverein.”
”It is late,” said the other, somewhat ungraciously.
”Never mind. An hour, three-quarters of an hour, half an hour, what matter? Come,” said he, laying hold of his arm and taking him away unwillingly, ”it is not polite of you to force me to invite myself. I do not suppose it is the cost of the wine you are thinking of. Mark my words: when I am elected a member, I shall not be stingy.”
Beratinsky suffered himself to be led away, and together the two walked up toward Oxford Street. Beratinsky was silent, and even surly: Reitzei garrulous and self-satisfied.
”Yes, I repeat it; a good night's work. For the thing had to be done; there were the Council's orders; and who so appropriate as the Englishman? Had it been you or I, Beratinsky, or Lind, how could any one of us have been spared? No doubt the Englishman would have been glad to have Lind's place, and Lind's daughter, too: however, that is all settled now, and very well done. I say it was very well done on the part of Lind. And what did you think of my part, friend Beratinsky?”
”I think you made a fool of yourself, friend Reitzei,” said the other, abruptly.
Reitzei was a vain young man, and he had been fis.h.i.+ng for praise.
”I don't know what you mean,” he said, angrily.
”What I mean I say,” replied the other, with something very like cool contempt. ”I say you made a fool of yourself. When a man is drunk, he does his best to appear sober; you, being sober, tried to appear drunk, and made a fool of yourself.”
”My friend Beratinsky,” said the younger man, hotly, ”you have a right to your own opinion--every man has that; but you should take care not to make an a.s.s of yourself by expressing it. Do not speak of things you know nothing about--that is my advice to you.”
Beratinsky did not answer; and the two walked on in silence until they reached the _Verein_, and entered the long, resounding hall, which was nearly empty. But the few members who remained were making up for their paucity of numbers by their mirth and noise. As Beratinsky and his companion took their seats at the upper end of the table the chairman struck his hammer violently, and commanded silence.
”Silentium, meine Herren!” he thundered out. ”I have a secret to communicate. A great honor has been done one of our members, and even his overwhelming modesty permits it to be known at last. Our good friend Josef Hempel has been appointed Hof-maler to the Grand-duke of ----. I call in you to drink his health and the Grand-duke's too!”
Then there was a quick filling of gla.s.ses; a general uprising; cries of ”Hempel! Hempel!” ”The Duke!” followed by a resounding chorus--
”Hoch sollen sie leben!
Hoch sollen sie leben!
Dreimal hoch!”--
that echoed away down the empty hall. Then the tumult subsided; and the president, rising, said gravely,
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