With these words Barnewitz went into the adjoining room, where he rested his elbows on the table and his head on his hands, and then plunged into the mysteries of the Grunwald official journal.
He had no sooner left them than Professor Jager turned to Cloten and said, whispering mysteriously:
"Baron Cloten, I have to tell you something that will frighten you."
Cloten turned pale and stepped back. His first thought was that his stables had been burnt, and Arabella and Macdonald, his two thoroughbreds, had perished in the flames. The professor did not leave him long in this terrible uncertainty; but with a low, spectral voice, and drawing the corners of his mouth so low down that they seemed to meet under the chin, he said: "Your wife----"
"Ha!" cried Cloten. "What is it? What has happened?"
"I don't know," replied Jager, "but I fear for the worst. Look at this paper [he searched his pockets and produced a folded-up piece of paper]. I found it just now on my wife's writing-table. But before I read to you what is on the paper you must swear you will never tell from whom you have heard it."
"I'll swear anything you want," said Cloten, with nervous excitement. "What is the matter with the paper?"
"Directly, directly! First, let me tell you that for some weeks now your wife and mine have become great friends, an intimacy which from the beginning has puzzled me sorely. Their meetings, I was told, had a purely poetical purpose--you know my wife is president of the Lyric Club--but I was struck by the fact that a third person appeared there always, or at least very frequently, a person against whom I have ever felt an unconquerable aversion. This person is----"
"Doctor Stein! I know! Go on," said Cloten, breathlessly.
"You know!--ah, indeed!" replied the professor, with a Mephistophelian smile, which gleamed unpleasantly behind his glasses. "Oh, well; then the hardest part of my task has been performed by others. Well, sir, if you know it already I will not detain you by telling you how the first spark of suspicion fell into my simple soul; how subsequent observations fanned this into a bright flame, which threatened to consume this heart of mine, that only beats for the welfare of my brethren [here the professor laid his hand with its black glove on the left side]. I dared not forbid my wife all intercourse with the person in question. You know, sir, poetic minds are apt to be eccentric, and the æsthetic standpoint from which----"