'Why?' exclaimed the young Count. 'What has happened? You had determined to stay until the autumn. Has my uncle offended you, that you now talk of leaving at once? I shall stand no nonsense of that sort, as I shall let him know on the spot----'
'I tell you everything is arranged and settled,' Oswald interrupted. 'Nothing whatever has happened. My aunt and her brother are naturally rather incensed against me, but they will place no further obstacles in my way.'
'Do you mean it in earnest?' asked Edmund in surprise. He evidently could not understand this sudden strange compliance.
'In right good earnest. You will hear it from themselves by-and-by. Now go and stand your trial. They will not be too hard on you. You have only to appeal to your mother's love--whereas I had to invoke fear to my aid.'
Edmund stared at him in amazement.
'Fear? Fear of what--of whom? You really do sometimes use the most extraordinary expressions.'
'Never mind, go now,' insisted Oswald. 'I can give you an account of our interview later on.'
'All right.' Edmund turned to the door, but paused again on the threshold. 'I must say one thing more, though, Oswald. I will not hear of this sudden departure of yours. You promised to stay until the autumn, and nothing shall induce me to let you go before. It will be bad enough for me to have to do without you then for months--for you will hardly get to Ettersberg before that abominable examination is over. I know that beforehand.'
With these words he departed. Oswald looked after him moodily. 'For months? Ah, we must learn to do without each other for good and for all,' he said. Then in a lower voice he added, 'I did not think I should have felt it so keenly.'