He did not wait for the reply, and turned again to the window; but Hugo was already at his side and put an arm round his shoulder.
"What is the matter, Reinhold?" asked he again in the tone of former tenderness with which he once surrounded the younger brother--whom he knew to be oppressed and miserable in their relations' house--and which had now become so rare between them. Reinhold was silent.
"I hoped you would at last find the rest here which you sought for so passionately," continued Captain Almbach, more seriously, "instead of which you rush about worse than ever during the last week. We are barely, even nominally, the Marchese's guests any more. You drag him and us all into this constant change of distractions and excursions. From ship to carriage, from carriage to mules, as if every moment of repose or solitude were a torture to you, and once we are in the midst of the excitement you are often enough like a marble guest amongst us. What has happened?"
Reinhold turned, not violently but decidedly, away from Hugo's arms.
"That, I cannot tell you."
"Reinhold--"
"Leave me--I beg you."
Captain Almbach stepped back; he saw the repulse did not proceed from temper; the faint, constrained tone, betrayed suppressed pain only too well, but he knew of old that nothing could be gained from his brother in such a state of mind.
"The storm seems to be at an end," said he, after a short pause, "but at present it will be useless thinking of our return. We cannot under any circumstances venture on the boisterous sea again to-day, and the road will be in a bad enough state, too. I have promised the gentlemen to obtain some information respecting it for them, as to whether our return would be possible to-day, and if we may not expect a second outbreak from the clouds. The verandah up there seems to offer a tolerably free view; I will try it."
He left the room, and ascended the stairs. The verandah lay on the other side of the house; it was a large stone adjunct, which probably dated from a former more brilliant period of the building, now, like the latter, neglected, half decayed, but extremely picturesque in its ruins and with its creeping vines, which climbed around the pillars and balustrade. A long open gallery led into it, and Hugo was just going to pass along it, when he was arrested. A pigeon fluttered immediately before him, chased by a boy in distinguished, fashionable-looking dress. The tame bird, accustomed to mankind, did not think seriously of flight; it flitted, as if playfully, along the floor, and only when the little arms were stretched out to catch it, did it soar easily up to the roof of the house, while the eager little follower rushed forward in wild career, and so ran up against Captain Almbach.