CHAPTER XXXII.
A NARROW ESCAPE.
When Roland sat down to dinner that evening with Mr. Dunlop, who generally preferred to dine with the two young men, Waldberg did not make his appearance as usual. After dinner, Roland went up to his room, ostensibly to write. But he did not write much; he was too much concerned about his friend. Mr. Dunlop, who kept himself well informed as to financial matters, had told him of the rumored collapse in certain stocks, the rapid rise of which had been exciting great general interest. Roland knew that Waldberg had been watching them with a feverish; though sanguine eagerness, which it pained him to see. And now he feared for a crushing disappointment.
Two or three hours had passed, and still no Waldberg appeared. Roland was just thinking that he must go out to look for him, little as he knew where to look, when he heard the door below open and close much more softly than usual, and what he recognized as Waldberg's familiar step—though it was strangely soft and slow—mounting the stair, and passing into his own room. Then all was silence for a time. Roland listened,—more anxious than ever, since Waldberg did not, as usual, come in to tell him his news. After a time, he heard him moving about in his room, opening drawers, as if searching for something. Unable any longer to resist the strong impulse of anxiety, he rose, walked softly to Waldberg's room, and entered without knocking. His misgivings were only too well justified. The young German was standing in front of the mirror, with something in his up-lifted hand. Roland made a dash at his hand, not a moment too soon. The next instant, he was conscious of a strange sensation in his own shoulder, which made him stagger back, caught by the bewildered Waldberg.
"Roland! Mein Roland! Why did you that? Now I am done for!"
Roland sat down, feeling somewhat faint, as he tried to pull off his coat, exclaiming, as he did so, "Waldberg! how could you think of such a senseless, cowardly thing?"
"Ah, you know nothing! I am in despair! But first I must see about this. Did the thing go through?"
An examination showed that the bullet had but grazed his shoulder, leaving a somewhat severe flesh-wound which Roland declared a mere trifle. Waldberg, who had had some experience in German students' duels, had set to work to bandage it, when a step in the passage without made Roland rouse himself and go out to see who it was. It turned out to be Mr. Dunlop, who had been awakened by the report, and had come, in some alarm, to discover what was the matter. Roland told him that an accident had happened, which had given him a mere scratch; and he went back to bed, growling a little and only half-satisfied. When he had gone down, Roland was glad to sink down in an easy-chair, while Waldberg completed a temporary dressing, that would serve till morning, as Roland insisted that there must be no fuss made about it that night. When it was done, he insisted on knowing what had tempted Waldberg to such a mad and reckless step, adding:
"I'm only too glad the lead went across my shoulder instead of into your brain!"
"Oh, well, you see, mein Roland, I was desperate! It was mad, I know, but indeed I knew not what to do! However, you shall know all, if you must."