No answer came. The young Count seemed to have noticed neither his words nor his approach. He was lying on the sofa with his face buried in the cushions, having, as it seemed, thus thrown himself down from sheer fatigue. His attitude betrayed that utter exhaustion which comes as a reaction after any great tension of mind or body.
'How could you cause us so much anxiety?' said Heideck reproachfully. 'Three times to-day have I knocked at your door in vain, and I have been compelled almost to force an entrance here.'
Again there was no reply. Edmund remained quite motionless. His uncle went nearer, and bent over him.
'Give me a word of answer, Edmund. You rushed away like a madman yesterday. There was no holding you back. I trust that you have grown calmer by now, and that you can at least listen to what I have to say. I have just come from your mother----'
The mention of this name seemed at length to produce some effect. Edmund shivered slightly, and sat up.
At sight of his countenance the Baron started back, scared and shocked.
'For God's sake, what ails you? How can you allow yourself to be so utterly overcome?'
The young man's features were indeed so changed as to be hardly recognisable. The misfortune which had befallen him seemed at one dire stroke to have taken from him all strength and courage. The dimmed look of his eyes and the complete prostration evident in voice and bearing told this plainly, as he replied:
'What is there for me yet to hear?'
'You know no details. Have you really no questions to put to me?'