In the distance there was a skiff and, in it, a man clad in a green hunting dress. He waved his hat and bowed.
Absorbed in thought, Irma was gazing into the lake, when her maid drew her attention to the other boat.
Irma started.
"Is it not the king?"
Thinking that he had not yet been observed, the hunter fired off his gun, the report of which was echoed again and again from the hills. He then waved his hat once more. With trembling hand, Irma waved her white handkerchief as a token of recognition.
The skiff approached. Irma's expression rapidly changed from one of joy to that of disappointment.
It was not the king. It was Baron Schoning who greeted her.
He sprang into the boat, kissed her trembling hand and told her how happy he was to meet her there.
They alighted. The baron offered his arm to Irma and they walked along the bank, the maid going before. In the distance, Irma could see the lackey who, on the previous day, had been speaking to hers. Had not the servant said that his master had been waiting here for a long time? Had not Baron Schoning, before this, been open in his attentions to her? His words soon relieved her of all doubt on that score.
"We are alone here, in the presence only of the mountains, the lake and the heavens. Dearest Countess! May I speak of something that lies near my heart and which I have for a long while desired to tell you?"