Hartmut was accustomed to this strict, military manner, even in his private intercourse with his father, who never allowed a superfluous word, a hesitation or evasion in the answers. This tone was kept up even to-day to veil his painful excitement from the eyes of his son. Hartmut saw only the grave, unmoved face; heard only the sound of cold severity as the Major continued:
"I will not make it a reproach to you, as I have never forbidden you anything regarding it; the subject has never been mentioned between us. But since matters have gone so far, I will have to break the silence. You thought your mother dead, and I have silently allowed you to think so, for I wished to save you from reminiscences which have poisoned my life. I meant that your youth, at least, should be free from it. It seems that it cannot be, so you may hear the truth."
He paused for a moment. It was torture to the man, with his delicate sense of honor, to talk on this subject before his son, but there was no longer a choice--he must speak on.
"I loved your mother passionately when a young officer, and married her against the wish of my parents, who saw no good to result from a marriage with a woman of foreign race. They were right, the marriage was deeply unfortunate, and we finally separated at my desire. I had an undeniable right to demand the separation, and also the possession of my son, which was granted me unconditionally. I cannot tell you any more, for I will not accuse the mother to the son; therefore let this suffice you."
Short and harsh as this explanation sounded, it yet made a strange impression upon Hartmut. The father would not accuse the mother to him, who had been hearing daily the most bitter accusation, abuse and slander against the father.
Zalika had put the whole blame of the separation upon her husband, upon his unheard-of tyranny, and she found only too willing a listener in the youth whose unruly nature suffered so intensely under that severity. And yet those short, earnest words now weighed more than all the passionate outbursts of the mother. Hartmut felt instinctively upon which side the truth stood.
"But now to the most important point," resumed Falkenried. "What has been the subject of your conversation?"
Hartmut had not expected this question, and a burning blush suffused his face. He was silent and looked to the ground.
"Ah, so! you do not dare to repeat it to me; but I request to know it. Answer, I command you!"
But Hartmut remained silent; he only closed his lips more firmly, and his eyes met his father's with dark defiance.