"What is the matter with my wife?" asked Brandow.
Gotthold had not heard him enter. At the first sound of his voice Cecilia raised herself from his arms, and stood erect between the two men, without support, clasping the child to her heart, pale as death, but with an expression of sorrowful resolution; and there was a strange, unvarying firmness in the tone of her voice, as, fixing her eyes upon her husband, she said:
"He knows, and will do it."
And then turning to Gotthold:
"You will do it for the sake of our old friendship, Gotthold, will you not? And farewell, Gotthold; we shall not see each other again."
She held out an icy hand to him, took Gretchen in her arms, and left the room without looking back, while the child stretched out its little hands over her shoulder, calling, "Bring me something pretty to-day, uncle Gotthold. Do you hear, uncle Gotthold?"
CHAPTER XVI.
"If women only wouldn't take everything tragically," said Brandow; "it's really a pity. First she proposed it herself, and now--but we mustn't expect the dear creatures to be consistent."
"And what do you require of me?" asked Gotthold.
He had seated himself at the table, while Brandow strode restlessly up and down the room, pretending to busy himself in doing first one thing and then another.