"I thought you would receive the news of the reappearance of your son very differently," he said, half aloud.
For the first time he intentionally used this title; hitherto he had merely said Rojanow. But now, for the first time also, an emotion was visible in the calm figure at the window. But it was an emotion of anger.
"I have no son--remember that, Wallmoden. He died to me that night at Burgsdorf, and the dead do not rise."
Wallmoden was silent; the Colonel approached him and laid his hand heavily upon his arm.
"You said just now that it was your duty to enlighten the Duke, and that you had not done so solely out of consideration for me. I have, indeed, but one thing to guard in the world--the honor of my name--which, through that exposition, would be at the mercy of the world's raillery and scorn. Do what you think you must do--I shall not hinder you. But--I shall also do what I have to do."
His voice sounded as cold as before, but it contained something so awful that the Ambassador started up in affright.
"Falkenried, for heaven's sake, what do you mean? How am I to interpret those words?"
"As you like. You diplomats define honor differently at times from us. I am very one-sided about it."
"I shall keep silence inviolably, I pledge you my word," assured Wallmoden, who did not understand the last bitter hint, for he had no idea of Adelaide's confession. "I had decided on that before you came; the name of Falkenried shall not be sacrificed by me."
"Enough, and now no more of it. You have prepared the Duke for what I bring?" asked Falkenried, passing on to an entirely different subject after a short pause. "What has he to say to it?"