“I am not afraid of Colonel Bremenhof. I have some questions to ask Ladislas that cannot wait.”
“I can only warn you, of course, but if you were my son, I declare to God I’d put you under lock and key to stop this madness,” he burst out almost fiercely.
His vehemence seemed to me quite unwarranted and all out of perspective. “I shall come to no harm, sir.”
“You don’t see what you are doing, boy. It is madness—nothing short of it. Remember my warning when the trouble comes, as it certainly will,” and he turned away.
“I am sorry to anger you, sir; but I fear I haven’t made you understand all that this means to me. I value your friendship and, believe me, I would take your advice now if I could. But all I care about in the world is concerned in this, and I must find out the truth.”
He turned, paused, appeared to hesitate, and then shook his head. “No, I will be no party to foolishness of this kind. I must not. You are taking a risk you don’t or won’t understand;” and he left me.
I knew that real solicitude for me was at the bottom of my old friend’s anger and I was genuinely sorry for the misunderstanding which had arisen; but I could not listen to his counsel. Find out the truth about Volna’s betrothal I must and would; and short of going to Volna herself for it—an obviously impossible course—to see Ladislas was the only thing to do.
As I hastened to his house I perceived one thing, however. I could no longer remain under the General’s roof. That might compromise him: and I resolved to write him from Ladislas’ house that I should not return.
I found my friend in a condition of excitement unusual even with him. He was always impulsive and a slave to the mood of the moment, and I had long ceased to be surprised by his neurotic impetuosity and feverish unrest. It was this very self-regardless impetuosity, indeed, which had led him to offer his life for mine when he had dashed to my rescue in the mountaineering incident which had bound us together in bonds of close and affectionate friendship.
“I had no idea you were in Warsaw, Ladislas,” I said, as I gripped his hand, “I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”