The Count gazed sternly at Sorr. For a moment he seemed to bethink himself; then he said, laying a sharp stress upon each word, "I am almost tempted to believe you capable of playing the traitor, Herr von Sorr. I would not advise you to contemplate such a course; one step in that direction and Count Schlichting shall learn by a letter from me whom your clumsy disguise conceals. Remember you are closely watched. If you are true to me you shall have your reward; but if you are a traitor, by Heaven! you shall meet a traitor's death. If you should escape a German bullet, a French one shall find its way to your heart. Now you know where you stand. One more piece of advice: for God's sake avoid that cursed brandy-flask for the next week at least. Come, be a man, Sorr; promise me that you will not drink a drop for the next eight days."
Sorr promised, and Repuin took his departure, leaving, as he had come, by the window. Sorr closed it softly behind him and stood at it for a long while, dreading to hear a shot in the shrubbery, but all remained quiet.
CHAPTER XXIII.
The next few days were gloomy with misty, rainy weather, and Count Schlichting grumbled incessantly at the enforced idleness of his command. Arno and Kurt employed the time in improving their knowledge of each other, and passed many a pleasant hour together with Count Styrum in exploring the park and gardens of the castle, which were remarkably fine and spacious. On returning from one of these walks about a week after their arrival at Assais, they found the castle court-yard a scene of much bustle and excitement, and learned that orders had arrived recalling the Saxon regiment to Nontron and Chalus,--orders that had been received with enthusiasm, since they pointed to a general massing of forces preparatory to a move upon the French army of the north. The colonel came into the dining-hall with a very cheerful countenance, and, taking his seat with the Uhlan captain, Von Säben, and several officers, drank a bumper to an energetic continuance of the war, and to its speedy victorious termination.
The Uhlan captain alone was depressed, and with good cause; for while the Saxon regiment was to take up its march to Nontron on the following morning, the squadron of Uhlans was to remain at Assais until further orders, to prevent the formation of bands of franctireurs in the surrounding country. Although this was an honourable service, it was one that could be crowned by no laurels, and life in the castle, after the departure of the Saxon officers, would be by no means attractive. The captain's only hope was that the colonel might be right in declaring that before many days the Uhlans also would be withdrawn from so advanced a post.
Kurt von Poseneck too was greatly disappointed at the prospect of losing sight of Arno von Hohenwald. He had so rejoiced in the new-formed friendship with his betrothed's brother, and now it was to be thus nipped in the bud. As soon as was possible without churlishness, Styrum, Arno, and Kurt withdrew from the circle of their comrades on this last evening and passed together a farewell quiet hour. When they separated Arno pressed Kurt's hand. "We shall perhaps not see each other to-morrow," he said; "let us say farewell to-night; only for a short time, I trust. When you send a letter to the Rhine remember to send my greetings in it, and in return I will send yours to Celia, and tell her that the greatest pleasure I have had during the campaign has been to learn to know and to cordially like my future brother-in-law. Farewell, Kurt!"
The three had lingered longer together than they had intended, and when they separated at the foot of the staircase leading to Styrum's and Arno's apartments perfect quiet reigned throughout the castle. Kurt's room was at the end of a long corridor on this second floor, and as he walked along it his steps sounded so loud in the intense stillness that he took care to make his tread as light as possible, lest he should arouse his sleeping comrades. The corridor was very long, and his room lay next to his captain's, the windows of both looking out upon the court-yard. The night had grown cloudy, and the long window before him, that would have given some light if the weather had been clear, was of no use to illuminate the darkness around him, but Kurt cared little since he could not possibly miss his door, the second from the end on his right. He had reached about the middle of the passage when his attention was roused by a noise upon his left; he thought he heard approaching footsteps. He paused and listened; yes, he was right; a door opened softly upon his left; he had a momentary glimpse of a spacious, dimly-lighted apartment, and Monsieur Gervais stood before him holding a lantern, the light of which fell full upon the young officer. The man was evidently much startled, but quickly regaining his self-possession, bowed with the courtesy he always displayed to the Prussian officers, and offered to light the lieutenant to his room, excusing himself for having, under the impression that every one in the castle had retired to rest, extinguished the lights.
He then preceded Kurt with his lantern, and only left him when he had lighted the candle in the young man's room.
Why had the Frenchman been so startled, so evidently frightened, at first sight of a Prussian officer? and whence came Monsieur Gervais? These were questions which Kurt asked himself as soon as he was left alone,--questions which he could not answer. It occurred to him that, confident in their numbers, the officers quartered in the castle had neglected many precautions that prudence would have suggested. Not one of them had hitherto thought it worth while to explore all the rooms and passages of the huge old castle. All had been content with the comfortable quarters assigned them by Monsieur Gervais, and had not reflected upon the facilities that the other rooms might afford for concealing spies and traitors. Kurt determined to use the first unemployed hours of the following day in exploring the castle thoroughly, and particularly in ascertaining whence the door led at which Monsieur Gervais had appeared. As far as he could judge at present, the large room, of which he had had a glimpse, must be traversed to reach the wing built out into the park, at present inhabited by the Baron de Nouart.
With the determination to atone for a neglected duty he ceased to think of Monsieur Gervais or of danger threatening him; he dwelt rather upon Arno's last words to him; his heart beat at the thought that he had accepted him as a brother-in-law, and Celia's lovely image accompanied him to the land of dreams.