"Is my father ill?" August shook his head. "The General has not yet undressed, and does not look exactly ill, only a little----"
"Only a little what?" The man scratched his head. "A little odd, sir. I think, sir, the General----"
"Confound you, will you speak out?" August came a step nearer, and said in a whisper, "I think the General had a disagreeable letter a little while ago; it may have been about half-past eleven. I did not see the man who brought it, and Friedrich did not recognise him, and I believe he went away again immediately. But I was obliged to take the letter to the General myself, and the General made a curious face when he read the letter."
"From a lady?" August could not help smiling, in spite of his sincere anxiety for his young master.
"Oh no!" said he. "They look different, one finds that out by experience; an important looking letter."
"Those infernal Jews!" muttered Ottomar. He could not understand what it meant; the next bill was only due in a week's time; but what else in the world could it be? His father would be in an awful rage again. Well, he would only have to propose a few days earlier, if he must propose, were it only to put an end to these everlasting worries, which left a man no peace even to smoke his cigar quietly in his own room at night. He tossed the cigar out of window. August had picked up his uniform coat, and was taking off the cotillon orders.
"What is that for?"
"Won't you put on your uniform, sir?" asked August.
"Nonsense!" said Ottomar. "It would only--" He broke off; he could not say to August, "It would only make this tiresome business longer and more solemn." "I shall simply tell my father that I do not mean to trouble him with these matters in future, but prefer to allow Wallbach finally to settle my affairs," said he to himself, while August went before him along the passage with the lamp, the gaslights having been extinguished, and stopped at his father's door.
"You may put the light down on the table and go to bed, and tell Friedrich to wake me at six o'clock." He had spoken louder than was necessary, and it struck him that his voice sounded strange, as if it were not his own voice. Of course it was only because the house was quite quiet, so quiet that he again heard the blood coursing through his temples, and the beating of his heart.