The president received him with affable ease. He knew that Ernst in his travels had picked up somewhere an individual who, ostensibly his secretary, played the part of his confidential friend, but he took further interest in the matter. He either had not heard or had not heeded his name; at all events, he did not recognize his former friend. Twenty-five years are long in passing, and such a life as Gronau's had been is a great disguiser. This man with his brown, deeply-furrowed face and gray hair had nothing in his appearance to recall the fresh, merry youth who had gone out into the world to seek his fortune.
"You are Herr Waltenberg's secretary?" It was thus that Nordheim opened the conversation.
"Yes, Herr President."
Nordheim started at the sound of the voice, which aroused dim memories within him. He directed a keen glance towards the stranger, and, motioning to him to be seated, he went on:
"I suppose we shall not see him to-day? Have you a message from him? Your name, if you please."
"Veit Gronau," was the reply, as the speaker calmly seated himself.
The president looked extremely surprised; he examined the weather-beaten features of his former friend, but the memories thus unexpectedly awakened seemed far from agreeable, and he was apparently not inclined to admit that there had ever existed any friendship between himself and his visitor. His manner distinctly indicated the inferior position which he chose to assign to his friend's secretary.
"We are not, then, entire strangers to each other," he remarked. "I was acquainted in my youth with a Veit Gronau----"
"The same who has the honour of waiting upon you at present," Gronau concluded the sentence.
"It gives me pleasure to hear it." The pleasure was but coldly expressed. "And how have you thriven in the mean while? Well, it would seem, your position with Herr Waltenberg must be a very agreeable one."