The blood flew into Ottomar's face.
"Insolent fellow!" he cried between his teeth, as he lifted his hand.
Antonio started back and put his hand to his breast pocket. Bertalda threw herself almost into Ottomar's arms, and drew him on one side. At that moment, a perfect swarm of men, who had assembled for a game of pool in the billiard-room, poured into the conservatory between the disputants.
Their startled countenances, their violent gesticulations, their loud and confused words, all proclaimed that something unusual had occurred, and that they brought terrible news. But the terrible news had already spread from the other side--from the vestibule into the supper-room. It had already reached the dancers above, who were hastening down the broad stairs, whilst many others met them from the supper-room. "Is it possible?--Have you heard?--Good heavens!--Pretty work!--Who would have thought it!--A man like that!--Let us get away--No one can get away till the house has been searched!--We shall see about that!--Good gracious! where is papa?--A glass of water. For heaven's sake! don't you hear?"
No one heard. Neither the servants, nor the guests, who were streaming out of the rooms into the vestibule and cloak-room, where there was soon a positively dangerous crowd.
It was in vain that some calmer people attempted to quiet the mob; in vain that the released police officer and his men tried to stem the current. The terrified people crowded in confused masses from the brightly-illuminated house, which was still echoing with the noise of the festival, into the dark streets, through which the midnight storm was howling.
BOOK VI.
CHAPTER I.
"Has Friedrich not come back yet!"
"No, General."