After this he forced himself to suppress all sign of the unrest which possessed him, but he could scarcely bear his part well in the conversation around the tea-table. After staring for a while absently before him, he would suddenly make some remark which showed that he had paid no attention to what was going on, and even Bertha, to whose slightest observation he was wont to pay great heed, could not to-night succeed in fixing his attention.
He was usually vexed when Pigglewitch was entreated to play, but to-night he hailed with joy Frau von Osternau's request for some music from the Candidate. He seemed to be glad to be relieved from the necessity of taking part in the general conversation. As soon as Egon had struck the first chord he left his place at the tea-table, and, exchanging a rapid glance with Bertha, retired to the recess of a window. Contrary to her habit, Bertha rose immediately afterwards and joined the Lieutenant in his retreat, where they were soon deeply engaged in a whispered conversation. They might easily have continued this unnoticed, for Herr and Frau von Osternau were absorbed in the music, if Herr von Wangen had not followed with his eyes Bertha's every movement. It did not escape him that the girl's cheeks were suddenly suffused by a burning blush at the Lieutenant's first whispered words, and that she instantly listened with the greatest eagerness to all that he said.
Herr von Wangen heard not one note of Egon's music, his entire attention was bestowed upon the pair whispering together in the recess; what would he not have given to overhear what they were saying? Several times during the month which Bertha had already passed at Castle Osternau Herr von Wangen had been tormented by the suspicion that there was a greater degree of intimacy existing between the Lieutenant and the beautiful guest than either cared to have observed; he had surprised one or two meaning glances exchanged by them, but Bertha had always succeeded in allaying these suspicions by the easy indifference with which she received the Lieutenant's homage. He had hovered between fear and hope, the hope inspired by every gentle word addressed to him by Bertha, the fear aroused by every look exchanged between Bertha and the Lieutenant; to-night fear was in the ascendant, his jealousy was aroused, he felt desperately wretched, but in another moment he was lifted to heights of supreme delight, for Bertha looked across the room at him, and there was such enchantment in her glance as he had never seen there before. She spoke a few hasty words to Albrecht and then returned to her place at table, excusing herself in a low whisper to her neighbour for leaving him to learn from the Lieutenant how her father was. Herr von Wangen was enraptured, his jealousy of a moment before vanished, he was ashamed to have felt it. Never had Bertha been to him so gentle, so kind, so engaging as on this evening after her conversation with the Lieutenant. Herr von Wangen was so intoxicated with delight that he did not notice the depression of spirits of all the other members of the circle, Bertha alone excepted.
This melancholy mood had been induced by the contents of the post-bag, which had brought a letter for Herr von Osternau and one for Pigglewitch. The latter had indeed thrust his unread into his breast-pocket, but the mere fact that it was addressed in a hand unknown to him worried and annoyed him. Herr von Osternau, on the other hand, read his letter not only once, but several times; it must have contained some very depressing intelligence, for Herr von Osternau grew graver at each perusal, now and then casting a peculiarly searching glance at the tutor, and then continuing his reading with a shake of the head. The contents of the letter must have occupied his mind during the entire evening; he took scarcely any part in the conversation, and when Egon bade him good-night he did not respond with his usual cordiality.
Just as Egon was leaving the room Herr von Osternau recalled him: "Excuse me for a moment, Herr Pigglewitch, I have a few words to say to you."
Egon turned round and awaited his employer's pleasure, divided between anxiety and curiosity with regard to what had induced Herr von Osternau to adopt so unusual a tone in addressing him.
The old man paced the room silently to and fro for a while until the rest of the family had retired and left him alone with the tutor. Then, turning to Egon, he said, gravely,--
"I have received a very surprising letter that concerns you nearly, Herr Pigglewitch, and I do not deny that its contents have affected my good opinion of you. I do not wish to discuss them with you at present, such a conversation would probably agitate me, and rob me of my night's rest, which is very important for me, and then, too, I might under the immediate influence of the letter treat you with injustice. I must give you time to defend yourself; therefore I beg you to come to me to-morrow morning at nine o'clock, and we will quietly talk the matter over. Here is the letter, take it to your room and read it. You can return it to me to-morrow. No more for the present. Good-night, Herr Pigglewitch."
Egon was dismissed. He took the ominous epistle and repaired to his room, where, his curiosity on the stretch, he lit his lamp and read as follows:
"Most Respected Herr,--Pardon a stranger for venturing to intrude upon you with a complaint and a request. In the unfortunate situation in which I am placed no other choice is left me. I must appeal to you, most honoured Herr, if I would not run the risk of losing forever a sum of money hardly earned and accumulated only by constant self-denial. Permit me to lay the case before you.