He rose from his seat, and in so doing gave the signal to disperse, for the officers bowed and took their leave; but in the ante-chamber, however, the director paused, and asked in a whisper:
"What do you say to it?"
"I do not understand Herr Dernburg," answered the chief-engineer, with a voice likewise cautiously lowered. "Is it that he actually does not or will not know?"
"Of course he knows it. I myself have given him information on the subject, and the Socialist gentleman himself does not pretend to make any secret of the course he is pursuing; he recklessly admits the stand that he has taken. Should any other man here at Odensburg dare to do the same, he would obtain his dismissal on the spot, but Runeck's discharge seems as yet to be a thing of the dim future. You see his plan has been accepted without any question, while we were plainly given to understand that ours were good for nothing. That surpasses anything that has happened yet----"
"You just wait," interposed Winning calmly. "On that point our chief is not to be trifled with, we all know. At the right time he will speak authoritatively, and, if Runeck does not yield then, it is all up with him, let him be ten times over the young master's bosom-friend and deliverer from death. You may rely upon that!"
"Let us hope so," said the director. "By the way, how poorly Mr. Eric does look still, and how remarkably silent he is. Why, I do not believe he uttered ten words during the whole debate."
"Because he did not understand what we were talking about," explained the chief-engineer, shrugging his shoulders. "They have taken pains enough to drill it into him, but very evidently not much has stuck to him. He has inherited nothing from his father, whether outwardly or inwardly. I must be gone, though, I have to drive out to Radefeld--Good-morning, gentlemen!"
Father and son had been left together by themselves, and the former walked silently up and down the room, evidently quite out of sorts.
In spite of his sixty years Eberhard Dernburg was still in the full vigor of life, and nothing but his gray hair and wrinkled forehead gave any indication that he had already crossed the threshold of old age. His face, with its firm, grave features, told no such story, any more than did his glance, which was keen and clear, and his tall figure was as erect as ever. His address and speech were those of a man accustomed to command, and to receive unfailing obedience, and in his outward appearance there was something that spoke of the sternness attributed to him alike by friend and foe.
It was plainly to be seen now, that his son bore not a shadow of resemblance to the father, but a glance at the half-length portrait that hung over the desk explained this, in some sort. It represented Dernburg's deceased wife, and Eric was speakingly like her. There was the same countenance, with its delicate, meaningless features, the soft, uncertain lineaments, the dreamy, reserved look.