The elder Bach, who knew not what to make of the whole scene, stood in blank surprise in the middle of the room, looking inquiringly at Philip, who, with equally astonished and anxious looks, was gazing at the page.
At length von Scherbitz ceased laughing, arose, approached the old man, and said with earnestness and respect, “Pardon, Master Cantor, for my strange behavior. I will explain it to you; I have much to communicate, but to you alone. It concerns your son, Friedemann—”
“My son?”—“My brother?” cried Sebastian and Philip in the same breath. “Where is he?”
“As I told those men,” replied the page, “at the house of Signora Hasse.”
“And what does he there?” asked Sebastian.
“I must tell you alone.”
“Go, Philip, to your chamber,” said the father mildly; and as the boy lingered, he repeated with more earnestness—“Go!” With a look of anxiety the youth retired.
Sebastian, full of serious misgiving, seated himself, and said, “Now, M. Scherbitz, we are alone; what have you to tell me of my Friedemann, whose friend you are pleased to call yourself?”
“I am his friend!” said the page, not without feeling; “and that I am, I have not first proved to-day!”
“And those two men, who marched off so quickly, when you told them my son was at Madame Hasse’s?”