There was something in his tone, in his whole bearing, that disarmed Adelaide. She felt that she would not have to fear another burst of his passion, and her voice softened involuntarily at her answer.
"I do not judge anybody; but with my whole mind and being I belong to another world, with other laws than yours. I am the daughter of an idolized father, who, all of his life, knew but one road that of earnest, severe duty. On that he worked himself up from poverty and want to wealth and honor. He led his children along this road, and his memory is the shield which covers me in every hard hour. I could not bear it if I had to cast down my eyes before the picture of my memory. You probably have no father?"----
A long, heavy pause ensued. Hartmut did not answer, but his head sank under those words, the crushing weight of which the Baroness had no idea, and his eyes were upon the ground.
"No," he at last replied, hoarsely.
"But you have the memory of him and your mother."
"My mother!" Rojanow started up suddenly and violently. "Do not speak of her in this hour--do not speak to me of my mother."
It was an outburst of mingled bitterness, of accusation and despair. The mother was being judged by her son in this exclamation. He rejected her memory as a desecration of this hour.
Adelaide did not understand him; she saw only that she had touched a topic which did not admit of explanation, and she also saw that the man who stood before her now with this dark look--with this tone of despair--was a different being from that one who had approached her a quarter of an hour ago. It was a dark, mysterious depth into which she gazed, but it no longer caused her fear.
"Let us end this conversation," she said earnestly. "You will not seek a second one--I trust you. But one more word before we part. You are a poet. I felt it in spite of all when I heard your work, and poets are teachers of mankind. They can lead to happiness or destruction. The wild flames of your Arivana seem to burst forth from the depths of a life which you yourself seem to hate. Look there!" She pointed into the distance, which was now lighted up again in a flaming glow. "Those are also signs of flame, but they come from on high, and they point to another road---- Farewell!"
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