Before Leo von Heydeck returned to his apartments he took a long walk in the park. He wished to be alone to hold communion quietly with himself, that he might come to a decision with regard to his future conduct. He knew that he had arrived at a crisis in his career.
Forced, against his inclination, by a stern father, Colonel von Heydeck, to embrace the military profession, he had, notwithstanding, become reconciled to it during the war with France, which he had entered into with patriotic enthusiasm, and in which he had greatly distinguished himself.
Esteemed and beloved by his comrades, he had never before now found himself in a position either to send or to receive a challenge. He had always considered duelling as a savage relic of mediæval barbarism; but the insult offered him intentionally in the presence of numerous witnesses, by Herr von Bertram, was certainly cause sufficient, if any such could exist, to justify the savage practice.
As he slowly sauntered along the secluded alleys of the park he weighed and pondered every argument for and against his yielding in this case to military prejudice. He had a hard struggle with himself to undergo, but by the time he reached his home he had made up his mind,--he would be true to his convictions and yield no jot to public opinion.
On the stairs he met his servant who surprised him with the intelligence that Colonel von Herwarth was in his apartment, where he had awaited him for a quarter of an hour.
Colonel von Herwarth, the commander of his regiment? What did this visit portend? Had he heard already of the scene at Büchner's?
Leo paused for an instant, and his heart beat undeniably faster. He foresaw that the ensuing conversation with the man who was alike his superior officer and his paternal friend would be of great importance to him; he must be perfectly prepared before it began. Once more he passed in mental review the reasons for the resolution he had taken. He never wavered; for the first time in his life an opportunity was offered him to step forward boldly and frankly in vindication of a principle. Firm in his purpose to do so he entered the room.
The colonel had not found the time spent in his young officer's room long. He had been much interested in what he found there, where there was nothing except the weapons, arranged upon a wall with an eye for artistic effect, to remind one that this was the abode of a soldier. The apartment might rather have been taken for a scholar's study or an artist's studio.
One side of the room was entirely covered with book-shelves, the contents of which would hardly have tempted the lovers of light reading, and the writing-table was loaded with books and papers in true scholarly disorder; while quantities of sketches in oil, framed and unframed, occupying every available spot upon the walls, and a large easel in the centre of the room, upon which was an unfinished picture, betrayed the artist.
Before this picture, a portrait of a beautiful girl, the colonel was standing, attentively surveying it, when Leo entered. The dress was only sketched in, but the face was nearly finished; at least so the colonel thought, as he admired the delicate features and the glorious black eyes that seemed to gaze into his own.