"In that case, I shall not remain here myself," he replied in a low voice. "I have long thought of asking to be relieved from my duties."
The Baron looked at him in silence. The old man's fidelity touched him. Moser alone had stood by him, true and staunch to the last; he alone had held to his allegiance, unshaken by the attacks, refusing to be misled by all the calumnies.
"Go back into the house, my dear sir," said Raven, kindly. "You will take cold out here in the chill morning air, lightly clad as you are. Once more, adieu."
Again he took the old man's hand, pressing it this time with a quick, warm pressure; then he went on his way.
The Councillor stood looking after him. He, who habitually had such a horror of taking cold, forgot now that he was bare-headed and without an overcoat. That shake of the hand had bewildered him, and the "adieu" sounded so strangely in his ears. He felt as if he must hurry after his chief and put another question to him, just to look in his face and hear his voice once more, and the thought of the impropriety he should be committing alone prevented him. Not until the Baron had passed out of sight did he return to his dwelling; a deep sigh escaped his breast as he mounted the stairs. It had come, then! The Governor had actually tendered his resignation!
Meanwhile Raven walked with slow steps through the Castle-garden. He had not been able to resist the desire he felt to enter it once again, and the visit involved little or no delay. A small door in the wall gave direct communication with the Castle-hill, a footpath leading down thence towards the town. The Governor had always used this mode of egress when he wished that his appearance at any particular place should be a surprise, and so preferred not to quit the Castle by the principal entrance, and to pass the sentry-posts. He would in all probability arrive below simultaneously with the carriage, which had to make a considerable round by the high-road.
At the Nixies' Well the Baron lingered a few minutes. What had become of the bright moonlit Eden of yesterday evening? All was now closely wrapped in the morning mist. The grass, slightly frosted over, glistened white with rime. The mighty limes, with their sparse foliage, loomed, weird and dark, through the screen of vapour, and the drooping branches strewed the ground with their wet and faded leaves. The nixies' fountain still murmured on, but its shining shower was now transformed into a mere dismal, colourless rain, which dripped incessantly over the grey weather-beaten statues at the base; there was something unspeakably sad in its constant, weary monotony. The transfiguring light, which had glorified all with its splendour, had disappeared, and stern reality stood revealed--autumn in its dreariest aspect, autumn cheerless and desolate.
Raven drew his cloak more closely about him; the morning wind pierced with an icy chill. He turned to the parapet whence the broad prospect could generally best be seen. So recently as yesterday the valley had lain there, dim, but mysteriously lovely in the magic moonlight sheen; now the vast space was filled with seething masses of grey mist. Here and there one of the city towers emerged vaguely, piercing the dense clouds; but the valley, the mountains and distant horizon were altogether shrouded from view. The Baron's gaze wandered over the city, which had so long obeyed his rule, to lose itself in the surging sea of fog at his feet. What was its secret? What lay hidden beyond? A golden sunlit morrow, or grey cycles of endless gloom?
One last look up at the Castle--but a fleeting glance, for Gabrielle's room was on the other side of the building, and her windows could not be seen from hence--then Raven opened the small door in the garden-wall and stepped out into the open country. He arrived at the foot of the hill just as the carriage reached that spot. A minute later he was seated at Colonel Wilten's side, and soon the town and Castle lay far behind them.
Swiftly they travelled on, past the steaming meadows, by the bank of the brawling, fast-flowing river, onwards towards the mountains. In half an hour the goal was reached; they arrived at the skirt of the forests which covered the hill-sides. Here the Baron and his companion alighted, and pursued their way on foot to the appointed place of meeting. The adversary's party was already on the ground. It consisted of Dr. Brunnow, his second, and his son, who, it had been agreed, was to render any medical assistance which might be required. A silent greeting was exchanged, a short parley followed between the seconds, then those gentlemen proceeded to make the necessary preparations.