“I hope I am to let you pass, Count,” he said most courteously.
“General Kolfort has this moment said I am at liberty to go.”
“You know how strict our discipline is. Will you wait while, as a matter of form, I obtain his confirmation?”
“Most willingly,” I asserted. He went to the General’s room, and in a moment returned smiling and holding out his hand.
“I am delighted. I know of you, of course, and, believe me, I have never passed through a more embarrassing minute in my life than that in his room.” His manner was so unaffectedly frank and friendly that I shook his hand cordially, and he came with me down the stairs and out into the street.
“I heard an account of last night’s proceedings from one who was at Metzler’s house, Count; I hope you do not judge us all by such an instance. I have just heard also what occurred this morning;” and in his tone and manner he contrived to convey a genuine compliment to my skill. “The Duke is well punished.”
“I shall be glad to hear how he progresses,” I said, as my man brought my horse up.
“I hear that you have an excellent shooting gallery at your house, and that you are a remarkable shot.”
“Will you care to come and see it?”
“Immensely, and perhaps to try the foils with you;” and his face lighted as though I were granting him a great favour when I asked him to dine with me. I rode off, thankful indeed that I was still free, speculating whether I could in some way attach this Russian to me; and, what was still more important, wondering what lay behind the sudden change in old Kolfort’s manner, and whether he was concocting some further subtle plan against me.