Wollnow came out of the hotel. "Another time, then," whispered Alma, as she drew down her veil and glided back into the dark street from which she had just emerged.
"Who was that?" asked Wollnow.
"This man will drag half the world into the mire with him," cried Gotthold.
"Where we should have sought him long ago, if we wanted to find him," replied Wollnow. "It was Frau Sellien, wasn't it? You betray no secret, it was one only to us; here the sparrows chatter it on the housetops. The man is making it easier for us than we expected; but it is a wonderful piece of luck that you caught Hinrich Scheel. If only the fellow's old clannish feeling doesn't break out again at the last moment."
"I do not think it will; for it is precisely because Brandow has so brutally wounded this feeling, so basely broken the faith due from the chief to his follower--that has excited and angered the rough but in his way honest man, to the highest degree. No, on the contrary, what I fear is that our treatment of Brandow will not satisfy him, and he will try to revenge himself in his own fashion."
"And is he so far wrong?" replied Wollnow earnestly, "are we not robbing the gallows of its victim? And even if we excuse ourselves by saying that there are crimes worse than highway robbery and murder, which do not come under the head of any law, cannot Hinrich Scheel quote the same thing himself, and demand that the breach of faith committed against him, and for whose condemnation he can certainly apply to no regular judge, shall not remain unpunished? But forgive my illogical obstinacy, my dear friend. I perceive that the future of more than one innocent person depends upon the secrecy with which we go to work. So let a Vehmgericht or a judgment from Heaven take the place of a public trial. Here we are at the club-house. I am sorry to leave you, but I feel with you that you must fight your way through this without seconds."
Gotthold walked up and down the brightly-lighted vestibule; loud voices, laughter, and the clinking of glasses echoed from the dining-room, into which a liveried servant had taken his card; the clerk was sitting in the office busily employed on his books; and the servants in the dressing-room had enough to do to take and deliver up the coats of the gentlemen who were constantly arriving and departing.
The man again appeared; Herr Brandow begged to be excused, but he was very busy just now; would not tomorrow morning be time enough?
"Time enough for what?" asked Gustav Von Plüggen, who had come out of the dining-room directly behind the servant, and greeted Gotthold with his usual noisy gayety, now increased by plentiful potations of wine. "What? Brandow very busy? Stuff and nonsense! Pressing business! He's sitting behind a bottle of Canary, writing one round sum after another in his damned betting-book. They're all determined to be fools, though Redebas and Otto and I have tired ourselves out talking; after what we saw at Dollan, everything is possible. It will turn out just as it did with Harry--Harry at the Derby, five years ago. Ever been in England? Famous country--women, horses, sheep--famous. An old joke of mine that always keeps fresh. What was I saying? do you want to speak to Brandow? But why don't you come in? It will be a pleasure to me to introduce an old schoolmate. Celebrated artist, hey? I heard some devilish good things yesterday at the chairman's from Prince Prora, who made your acquaintance in Rome, and is delighted to hear that you are in Sundin. Even spoke of seeking you out; curious; on the race-course to-morrow. By the way, got a ticket? Stand A? Don't hesitate, I beg; see, half-a-dozen left; gives me great pleasure. Come in!"
The servant had turned the handle of the door long before. The dining-room was crowded with people--members of the club, and their guests, among whom the officers of the garrison were especially numerous. They were sitting at different tables with bottles of champagne before them; a gay, even noisy conversation was going on; no one noticed the new-comers, not even Brandow, who had apparently just risen from the table, and was standing at the end of the apartment, in the midst of a group of people who were all talking to him at once, while he, holding up his betting-book, exclaimed: "One at a time, gentlemen! one at a time! since you are positively determined on being kind enough to make me a Cr[oe]sus. Trutwetter, one hundred and fifty! Please put your name underneath. Here, if you prefer! I have kept a place for Kummerrow's two hundred pistoles, Baron? No! Oh! dear, omen in nomine! who would have thought it? Another! Plüggen! Et tu Brutus? What is it? A gentleman--back again already? I am very busy! Tell the gentleman--"