There was something appalling in the grief of this man, who with lofty brow went into a battle that threatened his existence, but who seemed unable to bear the misfortune of his darling.
Egbert gently approached and stooped over him. "Herr Dernburg," said he, with trembling voice.
A fierce and repellent gesture waved him back. "Go! What do you here?"
"Eric is dead, and you have to spurn from you the man who was to take his place. Give me only this once more--only for this hour--the right that I once possessed."
"No," cried Dernburg, drawing himself up, and his features were again as cold and hard as ever. "You have renounced me and mine; you have forfeited the right to endure suffering with us. Go over to your friends and comrades, to whom you have sacrificed me, and who now rage around me like a pack of hounds just let loose. To them you belong; there is your place! They have treated me ill, but you worst of all, because you stood next my heart. From you I want no sympathy and no support--I will go to destruction first."
He walked into the adjacent library and slammed the door to behind him. The bridge between him and Egbert was broken.
CHAPTER XXIII.
[A LOVERS' TRYST.]
The park trees rocked and rustled in the wind, which now, towards evening, threatened to become a storm. It drove the red and yellow leaves whirling through the air, and a gray, cloud-covered sky looked down upon the autumnal earth.
Maia came back alone from her brother's resting-place, while Cecilia still lingered there. It had required persuasion to induce the former to go at all. In the midst of life's sunny springtime, the young girl felt a secret horror of all connected with death and burial. Existence beckoned to her, and happiness by the side of the man she loved.