"If you wish it. Uncle Arno----"
"Not now," he interrupted, with a wave of the hand. "It is too late to-night, and I do not wish that your mother should be present at our interview. I shall expect to see you in my study to-morrow morning early, and you will then have the kindness to answer such questions as I shall put to you. Good-night."
He turned away without offering her his hand or waiting for a reply, and walked to the farther end of the room. Gabrielle stood still in mute consternation. It was the first time the Baron had displayed harshness towards herself, and for the first time she began to realise that the matter would not blow over so lightly as in her gay optimism she had hitherto hoped.
A catastrophe was imminent, inevitable: thus she pondered; and only when her mother called her did she start from her reverie and hasten to the Baroness's side.
Raven watched her as she went. His lips were firmly set, as though in repressed anger or pain, and a dark thundercloud lay on his brow.
"I must know the truth," he muttered. "But, after all, what will it amount to? Mere childish folly, some travelling episode invested by both with all necessary romance, and in the course of a few weeks to be utterly forgotten. No matter, I will take care that such looks are not translated into words, and that an end is put to the affair in time."
CHAPTER VII.
The next morning broke grey and cloudy. It heralded in a wet, cold September day, which told unmistakably that summer's opulent splendour was a thing of the past, and that autumn's chill reign had commenced. A fine drizzling rain was falling: the mountains were shrouded in thick mist, and in the Castle-garden the wind was chasing the first leaves from the trees.
Baron von Raven sat alone in his study. A middle-sized room, with a lofty ceiling and one large bay-window framed in a deep recess, this study certainly did produce a gloomy impression. It was not less handsomely fitted up than the other apartments of the Castle; but here the prevailing grandeur was toned down to a style of severe simplicity. In the costly panelling of the walls, in the heavy sculptured oak furniture, and in the rich brocade of the curtains, the same subdued shades of colour were preserved; and the antique black marble chimneypiece was in harmony with the appointments of the room, from which all showy effects were rigorously excluded. The bureau, with its load of papers and parchments, the books ranged round the walls--a library wherein every branch of knowledge was represented--and the maps, plans, and drawings distributed about on the different tables, gave a fair idea of the numberless interests here claiming attention, of the vast aggregate of business constantly despatched. It was not a comfortable room to dwell in, nor one suited to rest or repose. Everything in it told of work--of grave, incessant occupation.
Raven generally got through a good deal of business in the morning hours; but to-day he set at his writing-table, resting his head on his hand, and cast not so much as a glance at the pile of letters and memorials, of reports and schedules, before him. His countenance wore the pallor born of a sleepless night, and its austerity of expression was more striking than usual; otherwise his features were as of bronze in their perfect immobility.