Now the carriage turned the corner of the lawn; the wheels crunched upon the hard, frozen ground, and the vehicle reached the main entrance of the castle.
Rojanow, who to-day represented the master of the house, left his room and started to meet the new arrival. He had reached the stairs which led down to the entrance hall, and put his foot upon the first step, when he suddenly shuddered and remained rooted to the spot.
Down there a voice spoke which he had not heard for ten long years; it was suppressed, and yet he recognized it at the first moment.
"I come from the Embassy. We received a dispatch this afternoon, and I took the first train to hasten here. How is he? Can I see Herr von Wallmoden?"
Stadinger, who had received the newcomer, replied in such low tones that the import of his words was lost to Hartmut, but the stranger asked hastily: "I do not come too late?"
"Yes, mein Herr. Herr von Wallmoden died this afternoon."
A short pause followed, then the stranger said, huskily but firmly: "Lead me to the widow--announce Colonel von Falkenried."
Stadinger turned to go, followed by a tall figure in a military cloak, of which one could see only the outlines in the dimly-lighted hall.
The two figures had long ago disappeared in the lower rooms, and still Hartmut stood leaning on the baluster, looking downward. Only when Stadinger returned alone did he collect himself and retire to his room.
Here he walked restlessly for a quarter of an hour. It was a hard, silent conflict which he waged. He had never been able to bend his pride; had never humbled himself, but he had to bow low before his deeply offended father--he knew that. But again a burning, absorbing longing overcame him, becoming all-powerful and finally conquering. He drew himself up resolutely.