CHAPTER XII.
The two brothers Von Zehren, with the commerzienrath, were occupied for an hour the next morning in a conference which was the object of this family gathering. The session must have been a lively one. The room in which they were was just above the office, and although the house was solidly built, I had more than once heard the shrill voice of the commerzienrath. I felt a sort of disquiet, as if my own fortunes were the matter at stake. Had I not been, by the strangest combination of circumstances, held as it were perforce in connection with this family? I had taken an active part, as a friend and confident, in the most important events connected with it; and my own fate had been entirely determined by these events and my relation to various members of the family. If Arthur had not wanted to have me with him at the oyster-feast on board the Penguin that morning--if I had not met the Wild Zehren at Pinnow's that evening after the scene with my father--if----
"The gentlemen upstairs would like to see us," said Sergeant Süssmilch, thrusting his gray head in at the door.
"Well!" said I, laying the pen from my hand, not without a little quickening of my pulse.
"Well, what?" asked the sergeant, coming in and latching the door after him.
"Well, I had hoped that they would not want me," I said, getting down from my stool with a sigh.
"Want you for what?" asked the veteran, stroking his long moustache and looking at me half angrily.
"It is a long story," I answered, adjusting my necktie at the great inkstand on the table, which offered me a very distorted reflection of myself.
"Which one need not tell an old bear with seven senses, as he would not be able to understand it," answered the sergeant, with a little irritation in his tone.
"I will tell you another time," I said.