"If I could only tell what to make of it all!" he muttered. "He locks himself in there day after day, and it is a week now since he set foot in the open air; he who for years has passed two or three hours in the saddle daily. If I could but get at Reinsfeld; but with his usual conscientiousness he has gone to Neuenfeld, and will not leave it until his first term of office has expired, when it is to be hoped a successor will have been provided for the post. There will surely be enough of the Nordheim millions left to insure him an easy existence when he marries his betrothed, and he would have been far wiser to remain near her now. Here you are at last, Said. What does Herr Waltenberg say?"
"The master begs Herr Gronau to dine without him," the negro replied.
"This will never do!" exclaimed Veit; but as he walked towards the door of the next room with some vague intention of forcing it, it opened, and Waltenberg himself appeared.
"You here yet, Gronau?" he said, with a slight frown. "I begged you to dine without me."
"I am like yourself, Herr Waltenberg. I have no appetite."
"Then, Said, have the table cleared. Go!"
Said obeyed, but Gronau, although he saw plainly that he too was dismissed, obstinately maintained his post.
Ernst had gone to the window, whence there was an extended view of the distant range of mountains. During the entire week that had elapsed since the avalanche had occurred the weather had not cleared; it had been dull and stormy, and the mountains, day after day, were veiled. To-day, for the first time, they showed themselves clearly.
"It is clearing up--at last!" Ernst said, more to himself than to his companion, who shook his head dubiously.
"It will not last long. Fine weather never does when the outlines of the mountains are so distinct and the crests seem so near."