Up there in the dark night sky, star after star shone in calm splendor, and far off on the northern horizon dawned a slight rosy light, like the first greeting of the dawn. And yet it was night cold, icy cold, winter night, in which as yet no ray of the coming day could fall.
Hartmut's eyes were riveted upon the mysterious glow. In his heart, too, it was dark, and yet something dawned there, fair and low, like the dawn of the morn. He had not seen Adelaide von Wallmoden since that fatal hour upon the forest height, until he met her to-day at the side of her husband, who had been borne, bleeding and unconscious--dying--into the castle.
This sight forced back every remembrance, and demanded assistance to the extent of his power. He had not entered the death chamber, and had only received the doctor's report; neither had he appeared upon Frau von Eschenhagen's arrival, but later on had spoken with the Chief Forester and Willibald. Now everything was decided. Herbert von Wallmoden was no longer among the living, and his wife was a widow--was free.
A deep breath agitated Hartmut's breast at the thought, and yet nothing joyful was in it, although his feelings had undergone a change since the hour he ventured his highest stake and--lost.
But that hour had proved to him the deep abyss which was open between them even now that the bond of Adelaide's marriage was broken. She had "shuddered" before the man who believed in nothing--to whom nothing was sacred, and he was the same man he had been then.
He had offered an apology without words in the creation of the added portion of Arivana which bore her name, but Ada had floated back to the heights from which she had come with her cry of warning, and mankind, with their glowing hate and love, remained upon earth.
Hartmut Rojanow could not force the hot, wild blood which flowed in his veins into a quiet movement; he could not bow to a life full of strict obedience and duty--neither did he wish to. For what had the genius which won his way everywhere been given him, if it could not lift him over the duties and barriers of every-day life?
And yet he knew that those large, blue eyes pointed inexorably to the hated path--that would never do.
The red glimmer over the forest yonder had turned darker and risen higher. It looked like the reflection of a powerful fire; but that calm, steady light came from no fire. Immovable it stood in the north; mysterious, high, and far removed--an aurora in approaching splendor.
The rolling of a carriage coming near in great haste broke Hartmut from his revery. It was past nine o'clock; who could arrive at such an hour? Perhaps it was the second physician who had been sent for in the afternoon, but who had been away from home; perhaps some one from Ostwalden, where the news may have already been carried.