Hartmut shivered involuntarily; he had not anticipated such a deep and awful change. The man standing in his prime, looked aged, and who had brought this premature age upon him?
A few moments passed in this deep silence, then a voice vibrated through the room half-audible, beseeching, and full of a tenderness suppressed with difficulty--a single word pregnant with meaning.
"Father!"
Falkenried started as if a spirit voice had reached his ear. Slowly he turned as if really believing he heard a spirit-haunting voice.
Hartmut quickly approached a few steps, then stood still.
"Father, it is I--I come----"
He stopped short, for now he met his father's eyes; those eyes which he had feared so much, and what they now expressed robbed him of the courage to speak further. He bowed his head in silence.
Every drop of blood seemed to have left the face of Colonel Falkenried. He had not known--he had no idea that his son was under the same roof with him; the meeting found him totally unprepared, but it did not tear from him one exclamation, nor sign of anger or weakness. Rigid and mute he stood there and looked upon him who had once been his all. At last he raised his hand and pointed to the door.
"Go!"
"Father, listen to me----"