She wanted to continue her conversation with Gotthold. The handsome, quiet man had always pleased her, and she had played the role of spy, which Brandow had a.s.signed her, less from love for her master than jealousy of her mistress, to whom she grudged the attentions of the stately stranger. The generous present he had bestowed upon her that morning had in some degree touched, and even puzzled her, and the cordiality he had just shown had completely disarmed her. Of course he had only come back for her mistress' sake, but to her fickle heart it was no enigma how one object can be kept in view without losing sight of another. She would even help him, if he was very, very friendly to her; and after all, it was certainly better for her if the stranger finally ran away with her mistress.

But she did not find him at the door, where she had left him. Besides, the door was not a suitable place to continue the interesting conversation, and the hall was equally undesirable. Perhaps he was in the dining-room. He was not there; the trees in the garden, into which she cast a glance, were tossing quite too rudely. Where could he have gone? Where, except to his own room, to look after the things he had left there! She must help him; he could not find anything in the dark.

The pretty servant-girl drew a long breath, and then in the twinkling of an eye glided noiselessly up the stairs and across the hall to the gable room Gotthold had occupied during his stay. Here she paused, pressing her hands to her burning cheeks and heaving breast, and then after a low knock, to which she expected no reply, slowly opened the door, as if with timid reluctance. Her cheeks had burned, her heart had throbbed in vain-the room was empty. She went to the window, and instantly drew back again. There, close beneath her, in the children's playground, was the man she sought, cautiously approaching the window from which a faint, varying light fell upon the tree-trunks; and then he disappeared--where, except through the nursery to her? She had not given the two hypocrites credit for that; they knew how to help themselves, to be sure! It was too shameless! Then the promise he had made her several times, but which she had not really believed, that he would make her his wife if the other was once out of the way, might come true. At any rate, he should know it; they deserved nothing better.

"What does this mean?" cried Hans Redebas, as Brandow, with a hasty apology, rose from the table just as the cards had been cut.

"I'll come back directly," answered Brandow.

"That we should have expected," shouted Redebas. "Pastor, another gla.s.s!" Brandow left the table unwillingly; he had been winning considerable sums, and his gambler's superst.i.tion warned him that he ought, not to turn his back upon the game; but Rieke had beckoned to him over Hans Redebas' shock of black hair-something particularly important must have happened.

He followed the girl into the hall, and from thence into the sitting-room on the left, where she told him by signs to step lightly, until they reached the narrow door that opened into Cecilia's sleeping-room. A faint ray of light gleamed through the crack over the threshold. The girl crouched down and put her ear to the door. Brandow stood bending over her, also listening. They could distinctly hear some one speaking, but neither who it was, nor what was said. But what did it matter? To whom could she speak here, except to him? What could they say except what they dared not suffer others to hear? And now the light grew brighter--they had entered the sleeping-room. Brandow trembled from head to foot with jealous fury. Should he rush in and strangle the pair, expose them to open shame? But Gotthold was no longer the feeble boy of former days; the result of a conflict with him, man to man, was at least doubtful, and he had certainly already received his pay. The disgrace would cling to him, and--it was too late! The barking of the dog, which made him and his accomplice fly from the door, must have warned them too; he would find the nest empty. Be it so; he had heard enough.

"Well?" said Rieke, when they had glided back through the sitting-room and were again standing in the hall.

"Go in, and say I will come directly," replied Brandow.

The tone in which he spoke predicted some evil; Rieke was almost sorry for what she had done. "He isn't like you," she said soothingly, with the most perfect sincerity.

Brandow laughed scornfully. "Go in," he repeated, stamping his foot.

The girl obeyed; Brandow went to the open door and gazed across the dark court-yard towards the stables. The rain beat into his face, and with it came the sickly odor of native tobacco. On the left, directly under him, before the stone bench glowed a red spot, and a harsh voice asked:

"Well, what about harnessing the horses?"

It was the man for whom he had just been looking, upon whom he had depended for the execution of the plan of vengeance brooding darkly in his soul, nay the man, as he now imagined, who had implanted its first germ. So it was to be.

"He won't want to go away now, if it were only on account of the bad weather."

"The others must go too."

"They have stayed here often enough."

"Send them away."

Brandow reflected a moment. "If I win a few hundred more, they will go of their own accord," he murmured. "But you must give him a thorough soaking, Hinrich--a thorough one, mind."

"Where there is no bottom," said Hinrich.

The words quivered through Brandow's soul like a flash of lightning across a midnight sky. That was the very thing.

"And I'll give you whatever you ask!" he said, in a hoa.r.s.e tone, bending down into the cloud of smoke that rose from Hinrich's pipe.

"No pay, no work,--and that trick with Brownlock a little while ago cost me five louis-d'or. I should like half down now."

"Here it is," said Brandow, feeling in his pocket, and giving him as much of the gold he had just won as he could grasp.

"You have always been a good master to me," said Hinrich, rubbing the gold pieces together in his h.o.r.n.y palm.

"And will be a still better one in future."

"The gentlemen will go away if you don't come in at once," said Rieke, hurrying out. She had left the door of the room open, and Hans Redebas'

gruff ba.s.s voice was heard shouting: "Brandow! Brandow!" amid shrill laughter, and a hoa.r.s.e tone repeating: "We won't go home! We won't go home!"

"I'll get rid of you," muttered Brandow. "You will stay here, Hinrich."

"I'll wait, sir."

Brandow went back into the gaming-room.

"You are taking an undue advantage of the freedom the accidental absence of ladies bestows," said Brandow, with cutting contempt, as his guests received him with upraised gla.s.ses and a halloo, to which Gustav von Pluggen added a loud hip, hip, hurrah!

"Accidental?" cried Hans Redebas; "not at all accidental; you are driving a good business to-day."

"And where is your wife?" said Otto von Pluggen.

"I demand an explanation of this," cried Brandow; "I will not permit--"

He paused suddenly. Turning angrily towards Otto von Pluggen, he saw Gotthold, who must have entered the room directly behind him, and had unquestionably heard all. It was impossible to discuss this subject in his presence. So, with a violent effort, he forced back the furious hate that surged up in his heart at the sight of his face, and cried:

"So there you are at last! Where in the world have you hidden yourself?

Thank G.o.d, you have come to put an end to this horrible gambling."

"Ho! ho!" exclaimed Hans Redebas, "horrible gambling! Is that the way the wind blows? I believe you! He has won six hundred or more already.

Does that taste badly?"

"I owe no man any revenge, however," cried Brandow, with a gesture of exaggerated violence.

"But, Brandow," expostulated the a.s.sessor, "you mustn't weigh every word; Redebas had no intention of offending you. He only wanted to continue the game, and, to speak frankly, I don't see what we could do better."

"Well, Herr a.s.sessor, if you think what you have also won--"

"The few thalers!" said the a.s.sessor, not without some little embarra.s.sment.

"I can certainly make no objection," continued Brandow. "I only thought that this little consideration was due our friend Gotthold, who does not play, and of whom we have seen so little, or rather I should say, ourselves. He doesn't lose a great deal in dispensing with our society, but we do in losing his."

"Pray don't disturb yourselves on my account," said Gotthold.

"Well, then, in the devil's name, go on," cried Hans Redebas, seizing the cards. "I'll keep the bank for once, I can probably find a few little savings still."

And with his left hand he drew from the thick pocketbook lying before him a pile of bank-notes which he crushed together in a heap. "There now, play in regular order, Brandow and the rest of you, I beg."

"I am sorry, but what can I do? I hope you will excuse me," Brandow whispered to Gotthold, as he resumed his place at the table. Gotthold drew back, and could do nothing but accept the invitation of the Pastor, who was sitting in one corner of the great leather-covered sofa, and as Gotthold took his place beside him, leaned a little forward, not without difficulty, and began to talk with a faltering tongue.

"Yes, yes, my beloved friend, a sinful world, a wicked, sinful world, but we must not be too harsh, not too harsh, for Heaven's sake! You work all the week, or at least order your servants to work for you; but they must not do it on Sunday, on pain of a heavy punishment. Just before the beginning of this harvest, we sent out a paper written in the strongest terms. What were they doing with the long hours? Idleness is the beginning of all crimes: gambling, drinking--Rieke, a gla.s.s--two gla.s.ses--don't you drink? Do very wrong--brewed myself--from a receipt of my honored employer, Count Zernikow. I brewed more than three hundred bowls during my career as tutor--could do it at last with my eyes shut--with my eyes shut--eyes shut."

He had only stammered the last words, his heavy head fell forward, and the lower part of his face disappeared amid the folds of his crumpled white cravat. He sank helplessly back into his corner.

The vacant face filled Gotthold with angry contempt.