"Swear that you will not abandon the Czika!"
"We swear!" said Oldenburg; while Melitta, unable to utter a word, only moved her lips.
Xenobia let go their hands, in order to cross her own hands on her bosom.
"Now leave Xenobia alone," she said, in a very low tone of voice; "only Czika is to stay, and the old man."
Oldenburg and Melitta looked at each other, and then at the old man, who came up with the cooling drink. He nodded his venerable gray head, as if he meant to say: "Do what she asks."
Oldenburg did not dare refuse. He took Melitta's hand and led her out of the room. The clock on the mantel-piece began to strike. The man with the scythe was slowly coming out of his cave.
They went back into the garden-room. Neither said a word. Oldenburg threw himself into an arm-chair near the fire, and glared with troubled looks at the coals. Suddenly he felt Melitta's hand on his shoulder.
"Adalbert!"
He looked up at her with a questioning look.
"You will not leave, I am sure?"