"We?---- I beg pardon; I never should have advised any such thing; and if I remember rightly, you only mentioned that the Count could tell all about the matter if he would; you never hinted a word of advice. But of course Fräulein Adèle will blame you if her father scolds her for such behaviour, and very unseemly behaviour it is for a young girl to talk to a gentleman alone in a dark night upon a balcony."
"I myself do not think it exactly the thing, but there's no great harm in it. The balcony is as light as day from the lights in this room. You can see them both quite plainly. Look, Adèle is leaning against the iron balustrade, and the Count is standing at a respectful distance talking to her. He is telling her all about Herr von Sorr, it is plain to be seen; and at any rate, my dear, what affair is it of ours if Fräulein Adèle finds it convenient to talk more confidentially to her cousin on the balcony than she could here in the ballroom? She will know the particulars of the affair when she comes back, and we will make her tell us all about it."
While the elderly ladies in the ball-room were thus unfavourably discussing the interview on the balcony, Adèle was listening with painful interest to her cousin's story. She had long known of the evil reports circulated with regard to Sorr; they had been matter of discussion in the President's family circle, and her father had often declared that he could not ask to his house a man whose reputation was so bad. It was only in compliance with Adèle's entreaty that Sorr had been invited to this birthday ball, and this only when Heinrich, upon being consulted, had insisted that the silly stories concerning Sorr were false, that they were all inventions of Lieutenant von Arnim, who hated Sorr.
Adèle, too, had hitherto given little credit to what was said of Sorr; she knew that her friend led a very unhappy life with her husband, that his habits were extremely dissipated, and that he neglected his wife shamefully, but that he had ever been engaged in any dishonourable transaction she did not believe. Nevertheless, at times, when Lucie seemed oppressed with a sadness which no words of hers could relieve or lighten, doubts had occurred to her; doubts which, however, since Lucie never accused her husband, nor even alluded to him, the young girl had resolutely banished, defending Sorr against her father's suspicions, and treating all evil rumour concerning him as idle gossip.
Now she knew the truth; and her heart seemed to stand still as she learned that all that had been hitherto whispered of evil against Sorr was exceeded by the facts,--her Lucie's husband was a detected thief!
"My poor, poor Lucie!" she said, with infinite sadness, when Styrum had finished his narrative. "What will be done now? What does that dreadful Repuin mean to do?"
"I am not sufficiently familiar with the relations which have existed hitherto between Sorr and Count Repuin to answer that question," Styrum replied, "but I must confess that my first thought was that Repuin had brought about this catastrophe intentionally. I may do the Count injustice, for he acted as any man of honour would have done in his place. He could not suppress his knowledge of Sorr's theft, but he acquainted me with it with great tact, leaving it to me to spare the thief or to bring him to justice, and he acquiesced in my decision, that out of consideration for your father the fellow must be let alone. And no one can blame him for wishing to adjust without my assistance his own relations with Sorr, who has hitherto passed in society for his friend. He has only done his duty, and that in the most honourable manner. All this I admit, and yet I cannot help suspecting that he acted in accordance with a deep-laid scheme and in furtherance of his own evil designs. I can never forget the look the man cast upon Frau von Sorr when you took your friend's part so bravely, and the memory of it fills me with distrust of him. Therefore I had intended to tell you as soon as possible all that happened, and am especially grateful to you for this opportunity to do so, since you are in a position to judge whether any danger threatens your friend. She certainly must have told you much that will enable you to know this."
"Oh, if she only had!" said Adèle. "Unfortunately, it is not so. I love Lucie like a sister. When we were at school together she confided everything, even her very thoughts, to me: we had no secrets from each other; but I no longer possess her confidence. I know she loves me as well as ever, and if she could confide in any one, she would confide in me and let me share and soothe her sorrow. Therefore I cannot but hope for a return of the old intimacy. After her marriage I had not seen her for a long time, and our correspondence had flagged, when something more than a year ago she suddenly came here with her husband to live. Her first visit was to me, and I was indescribably happy to see her once more. She showed me all her old affection, but not her old confidence. I soon perceived that she was very unhappy,--she could not prevent my seeing that,--but to all my questions she returned evasive answers, and I only judged from common report that her marriage was an unhappy one, she has never spoken of it to me. And of her relations with Count Repuin I know only what my own observation has taught me. He has been for months Sorr's most intimate friend; they seemed inseparable. Sorr lives very quietly, he never gives large parties, but he frequently entertains a few friends, among whom, Heinrich has told me, Repuin is always to be found. He has paid assiduous court to my poor Lucie, never heeding the almost offensive coldness of her manner to him. I know how abhorrent his attentions are to her, although she has never mentioned him to me: I can read it in her eyes. This is all I know; you were a witness of the odious scene at supper to-night, it aroused in you the suspicion that troubles me also. My poor, dear Lucie! I am in despair at not knowing how to advise or assist her. I entreat you, dear Karl, to help me; my Lucie deserves to find faithful friends in her terrible misery. Tell me, what will happen,--what can we do?"
As she spoke, Adèle looked up at her cousin, her large, dark eyes glowing with entreaty and filled with tears. How beautiful her eyes were!--almost more beautiful now when their brilliancy was dimmed by those "kindly drops" than when sparkling with youthful gayety.
Count Styrum was wonderfully impressed,--Adèle's cordial confidence enchanted him. Frau von Sorr had already interested him; he was now resolved to do everything in his power to aid her in her misery. Adèle's friend could not be the accomplice of her unworthy husband.