CHAPTER II
A GATE OF LIFE
I was droning in the small Rhine town Hamnel, close to Kehl, and struck up a casual acquaintance with a man of about my own age, named von Fromberg, to whom I had been at first attracted somewhat by the fact that in some respects he resembled myself. It happened, too, that one night I was able to render him a little service.
I was walking late near the river when he came rushing up to me to beg me to help him against the attack of a couple of men who were running after him with some angry threats. He was trembling and very much excited, although there did not seem to me to be much cause for fear; for the men sheered off as soon as they saw he was no longer alone.
My companion was greatly agitated, however, and talked, as I thought very absurdly, about my having saved his life. For the next two or three days he would scarcely leave my side; and during that time he poured into my ears much of what was filling his soul. It was only a little soul, and the contents mere tags and patches of dishevelled passion and emotions, though to him all real and disturbing enough.
He was a student and a dreamer, and of course in love. He had in some way got mixed up in some brawling with the men who I had seen pursuing him, and the whole trouble had set his little pulses throbbing and palpitating with the fear of terrible but quite vague consequences.
He told me also his love troubles. The girl he wished to marry was French, and while his people hated the French, her father would only allow him to marry the daughter if he would become a Frenchman. And mingled up with all this was a strange story of family complications. The pith of this was that his uncle, the head of the family, the Prince von Gramberg, a well enough known man, had written to urge him to go at once to the castle, declaring that his instant presence was imperative. Von Fromberg was thus the prey of three sets of emotions—desire to marry the French girl; terror of the men he had in some way provoked; and deadly fear that his uncle would prevent his turning French, and so stop his marriage. The last disquieted him the most.
"He has never seen me," he cried quite passionately, "never even given a thought to me, till I suppose he thinks that, as his son is now dead, I can be of some use to him. And he is such a fire-eating old devil he would think nothing of kidnapping me and shutting me up till I did what he wanted, and gave up my marriage. He loathes everything French."
It was difficult to associate von Fromberg with any very fire-eating kith and kin, but I sympathized vaguely, and soon found out his reasons for giving me his confidence. He wanted me to help him, and the request took a singular shape. He was to be married, and was crossing the frontier to Charmes for the purpose; and as he was very fearful of interruption and pursuit, he wished me to remain in Hamnel for a couple of days in his name.