"I am not accustomed to answer questions put in such a tone," the young Count said, haughtily,--"least of all from the son of an adventurer, and of a mother who----"
He paused, for Michael stepped up to him, pale as death, but with flashing eyes. "Silence, Count Steinrück! One slighting word of my mother,--one only, and I shall forget myself and fell you to the ground!"
"With your fists?" asked Raoul, contemptuously. "I am used to fight with the weapons of gentlemen."
His words produced their effect,--Rodenberg controlled himself. "And yet you are so ungentlemanly as to goad on your adversary with insults which no man could endure calmly," he said, bitterly. "I have not provoked this quarrel, but I see that any continuation of this conversation would be useless. You shall hear from me to-morrow."
"I shall look to do so," replied Raoul, and, with a brief salutation, he left the room.
Michael remained for a time; he did not wish to rejoin the company with the Count. He paced the room several times with folded arms, and then threw himself into an arm-chair.
Meanwhile, Hertha's first surprise had been gradually transformed to anxiety, and at last to terror, upon hearing the issue of the conversation. She now rose, and pale, but resolute, appeared upon the threshold of the next room. "Captain Rodenberg," she said, softly.
He sprang up dismayed, for at the moment of her appearance he had perceived that the door of the adjoining apartment was open, and that every word that had been uttered might have been overheard.
"You here, Countess Steinrück?" he said, hastily. "I thought I saw you just now in the reception-rooms."
"No; I was sitting there,"--she pointed to the next room,--"and I have been the involuntary auditor of a conversation not intended for stranger ears."