Oswald did not reply, for at that moment the door opened, and Baron Barnewitz, whose face was beaming with delight at the surprise he had so cunningly contrived, ushered in a gentleman whose appearance evidently created quite a sensation. The loud voice of Count Grieben was hushed, several gentlemen put their heads together, and in the circle of the ladies around the hostess there followed quite a pause of expectation. The new-comer was a man of tall, but almost too slim figure, whose careless carriage brought out still more forcibly the disproportion between height and breadth. Upon the long body sat a small head, whose well-formed outlines were partly hid by the short, thick black hair. A beard of the same kind covered chin and cheeks and mouth, so that only the upper part of his face could be examined successfully. But on this half more than one riddle was clearly written. The forehead was rather high than wide, but surrounded by exceedingly fine and yet bold outlines. The brows, drawn as with a pencil, passed in a bold curve over the gray eyes, the expression of which was not very pleasant, at least as they swept at that moment over the company; as unpleasant was the smile which flashed like sheet lightning every now and then around the finely chiselled nose with the sensitive nostrils. Both smile and glance seemed to be all the answer the man vouchsafed to give Baron Barnewitz, who overwhelmed him with polite speeches as he led him up to the place where the lady of the house received her guests. She rose to greet the new-comer, who kissed her hand, and, after a slight bow to the other ladies, fell into an empty chair near her, beginning at once a lively conversation with her, without paying the slightest attention to anybody else.
Oswald had watched the new-comer with the eye of an Indian who follows the track of his mortal enemy, for he had instantly recognized that horseman who had met him and Bemperlein in the forest. It was Baron Oldenburg.
"Now look," said Baron Barnewitz, walking up to Oswald and rubbing his hands with delight.
"I am all eye," said Oswald, with a somewhat constrained smile.
"What are you to look for?" asked Langen, while Barnewitz was turning to another group.
"Baron Barnewitz has had the goodness to call my attention to Baron Oldenburg, as a most interesting man."
"Ah! That is Oldenburg!" said Langen; "I had not seen him yet."
Another carriage drove up, and Oswald recognized Melitta as she stepped out. It was fortunate for him that Langen was eying the party on the sofa at that moment, for he would not have been able to conceal his excitement. The few minutes which Melitta spent in the dressing-room appeared to him an eternity. At last she entered through the open door, and Oswald thought the whole room was filled with light and with roses. Melitta wore a white dress, which covered up bosom and shoulders, while the delicate neck was enclosed in a lace frill. A light shawl hung around her sloping shoulders. A deep red camellia in her hair, this was her only ornament. But what ornament is needed where beauty and grace are combined, and Melitta's appearance was so beautiful and graceful that her entrance created even a greater sensation than Oldenburg's. The older men broke off their conversation to pay their respects to her; a few younger men hastened up to get, if possible, the first waltz, the second polka--anything that could be had, and she smiled at old and young, answered here a question, begged there for patience, and all this while she was crossing the large room to join the other ladies. Baron Oldenburg had quietly remained sitting on his chair while the lady of the house had risen to advance toward her cousin. His arm resting on the back of the chair, he did not even turn round to look at the cause of the general commotion. But then Melitta's name must have struck his ear, for he started up, looked around, and stood face to face before Melitta, whom her cousin held by the hand. Oswald had been drawn, as by a magnetic power, toward the place, so that not a word, not a look escaped him. He saw Melitta turn pale, and her eyes flash as if in anger, when Oldenburg made her a low bow.
"Ah, madam," he said with a peculiar smile, "when we met last the sun of Sicily was shining over us, and now----"
"The moon shines--you mean to say," replied Melitta, and around her lips there appeared a line of bitter irony which Oswald had not yet seen. "On the contrary, dear baron, when we met last the moon was shining. Do you not remember, it was in the garden of the Villa Serra di Falco, near Palermo--and now that we meet again, the sun is shining, at least for myself."