"Forgive me, Erik. I thought you loved me. And I would have liked to make you happy...."
He nodded and opened the door.
CHAPTER VI
They sat in the compartment of the train crawling into Munich. The Baron drooped with sleep. Dorn stared wearily out of the window. Springtime. A beginning of green in the fields and over the roll of hills. Formal sunlight upon factories with an empty holiday frown in their windows.
"I hear shooting," he smiled at Mathilde. "We're probably in time."
The girl nodded. Despite the sleepless night sitting upright in the compartment, her eyes were fresh and alive. The desultory crack of a rifle drifting out of the town as if to greet them brought an impatience into her manner. The train was moving slowly.
"Yes, we're in time," she murmured. "See, the white guards are still in possession."
A group of soldiers with white sleeve-bands over the gray-green of their uniforms passed in an empty street.
"There will be white guards at the station, too," she went on. "The attack will come to-night. It must."