"Erlau?--oh!" Almbach passed his hand over his forehead; "That is all, Mariano, thank you," said he, and left the saloon.
The day had become burningly hot, nor did the evening bring coolness or refreshment. Air and sea did not appear to be stirred by any breath, and the sun went down in hot clouds of mist. In the villa Fiorina also they seemed to suffer from the oppression. The inhabitants confined themselves probably to the cooler rooms, as the jalousies had not been opened the whole day, and the glass doors which led to the terrace remained closed. The German family hardly occupied half of the capacious dwelling which it had engaged entirely for itself. A few rooms to the right of the garden saloon were arranged for the Consul--those on the opposite side were inhabited by his adopted daughter, with her child; the servants were located in the back apartments, and the rest remained empty.
The evening was already far advanced when Ella entered the garden saloon, which was illuminated by a lamp. The Consul had retired to rest, and she came from her boy, whom, after he had fallen asleep, she had left to his attendant's care. Perhaps it was the dim light which made her face still appear pale; the colour had not returned to it since the morning, even although her features seemed perfectly calm.
She opened the glass door and stepped out on to the terrace. Outside, perfect darkness reigned already; no moon's rays pierced the clouds which still enveloped the sky, no breath of wind from the sea moved the blooming shrubs; sultry and heavy, the air seemed regularly to weigh upon the earth, and the sea lay in idle repose, almost motionless. It was alarming in this dense stillness and darkness, yet Ella appeared to prefer this to remaining in the lighted garden saloon. She stood leaning against the stone balustrade, as in the morning, partially still in the pale circle of light which fell through the open door on to the terrace, and, although indistinctly, displayed the slight form.
A few moments may have passed thus, when she was startled by a noise near her. With a low cry, she tried to take refuge in the house, as close by her there stood a tall, dark man's figure; at the same moment, however, a hand was laid upon her arm, and a suppressed voice said--
"Be composed, Ella, it is neither a robber nor a thief who stands before you, although you have forced me to choose the path of such an one."
The young wife had recognised Reinhold's voice at the first word, but she only drew back nearer to the threshold of the glass door.
"What do you desire, Signor?" said she coldly, in Italian. "And what does this intrusion at such an hour mean?"
Reinhold had followed her, but he did not again attempt to touch her arm, or even go near her.