"You may rely on my help," said Dellwig.

"You are very good," said Axel.

Dellwig's voice had something ominous about it that made Anna shiver.

What a detestable man he was, always and at all times. His whole manner to-night struck her as specially offensive. "What will be done to the poor wretch when he is caught?" she asked Axel.

"He will be imprisoned," Dellwig answered promptly.

She turned her back on him. "Even though he is half-witted?" she said to Axel. "Are you obliged to look for him? Can't you leave him alone? He has done you a service, after all."

"I must look for him," said Axel; "it is my duty as Amtsvorsteher."

"And the gracious Miss should consider----" shouted Dellwig from behind.

"I'll consider nothing," said Anna, turning to him quickly.

"--should consider the demands of justice----"

"First the demands of humanity," said Anna, her back to him.

"n.o.ble," murmured Manske.

"The gracious Miss's sentiments invariably do credit to her heart," said Dellwig, bowing profoundly.

"But not to her head, he thinks," said Anna to Axel in English, faintly smiling.

"Don't talk to him," Axel replied in a low voice; "the man so palpably hates us both. You must go home. Where is your carriage? Princess, take her home."

"_Ach, Herr Dellwig, seien Sie so freundlich_----" began the princess mellifluously; and despatched him in search of Fritz.

When they reached Kleinwalde, silent, wornout, and only desiring to creep upstairs and into their beds, they were met by Frau von Treumann and the baroness, who both wore injured and disapproving faces. Letty slipped up to her room at once, afraid of criticisms of her hairlessness.

"We have waited for you all night, Anna," said Frau von Treumann in an aggrieved voice.

"You oughtn't to have," said Anna wearily.

"We could not suppose that you were really looking at the fire all this time," said the baroness.

"And we were anxious," said Frau von Treumann. "My dear, you should not make us anxious."

"You might have left word, or taken us with you," said the baroness.

"We are quite as much interested in Herr von Lohm as Letty or Princess Ludwig can be," said Frau von Treumann.

"n.o.body could tell us here for certain whether you had really gone there or not."

"Nor could anybody give us any information as to the extent of the disaster."

"We presumed the princess was with you, but even that was not certain."

"My dear baroness," murmured the princess, untying her shawl, "only you would have had a doubt of it."

"The reflection in the sky faded hours ago," said Frau vein Treumann.

"And yet you did not return," said the baroness. "Where did you go afterwards?"

"Oh, I'll tell you everything to-morrow. Good-night," said Anna, candle in hand.

"What! Now that we have waited, and in such anxiety, you will tell us nothing?"

"There really is nothing to tell. And I am so tired--good-night."

"We have kept the servants up and the kettle boiling in case you should want coffee."

"That was very kind, but I only want bed. Good-night."

"We too were weary, but you see we have waited in spite of it."

"Oh, you shouldn't have. You will be so tired. Good-night."

She went upstairs, pulling herself up each step by the bal.u.s.ter.

The clock on the landing struck half-past three. Was it not Napoleon, she thought, who said something to the point about three-o'clock-in-the-morning courage? Had no one ever said anything to the point about three-o'clock-in-the-morning love for one's fellow-creatures? "Good-night," she said once more, turning her head and nodding wearily to them as they watched her from below with indignant faces.

She glanced at the clock, and went into her room dejectedly; for she had made a startling discovery: at three o'clock in the morning her feeling towards the Chosen was one of indifference verging on dislike.

CHAPTER XXVI

Looking up from her breakfast the morning after the fire to see who it was riding down the street, Frau Manske beheld Dellwig coming towards her garden gate. Her husband was in his dressing-gown and slippers, a costume he affected early in the day, and they were taking their coffee this fine weather at a table in their roomy porch. There was, therefore, no possibility of hiding the dressing-gown, nor yet the fact that her cap was not as fresh as a cap on which the great Dellwig's eyes were to rest, should be. She knew that Dellwig was not a star of the first magnitude like Herr von Lohm, but he was a very magnificent specimen of those of the second order, and she thought him much more imposing than Axel, whose quiet ways she had never understood. Dellwig snubbed her so systematically and so brutally that she could not but respect and admire him: she was one of those women who enjoy kissing the rod. In a great flutter she hurried to the gate to open it for him, receiving in return neither thanks nor greeting. "Good-morning, good-morning," she said, bowing repeatedly. "A fine morning, Herr Dellwig."

"Where's Klutz?" he asked curtly, neither getting off his horse nor taking off his hat.

"Oh, the poor young man, Herr Dellwig!" she began with uplifted hands.

"He has had a letter from home, and is much upset. His father----"

"Where is he?"

"His father? In bed, and not expected to----"

"Where's Klutz, I say--young Klutz? Herr Manske, just step down here a minute--good-morning. I want to see your vicar."

"My vicar has had bad news from home, and is gone."

"Gone?"