"Yes, yes!" cried Axel, "you are right! All my misfortunes arose from this unblessed soldier career. I got in debt there, and these first debts brought others in their train. But," he added, standing still, "what shall I say to my wife?"
"Nothing at all," said Bräsig.
"No," said Axel, "I have solemnly resolved to tell her the whole truth, henceforth."
"Do you think the young gracious Frau will be likely to ask you--right to your face--why you didn't shoot yourself this morning? If you should get into any difficulty about it, I will tell fibs for you, I should not mind doing it; for it would be too horrible that such a dear young Frau should carry the thought with her, through her whole life, that the husband who should have cared for her was ready to leave her and her child, like a coward. No!" he added firmly, "she must not know it; no one need know it, but you and I. And make yourself easy, she is still asleep, for she could not have gone to bed before morning, and she must have been dreadfully tired."
They came back to Pumpelhagen, and met Daniel Sadenwater in the hall.
"Daniel," said Bräsig, "let us have a little breakfast, as soon as possible. For," he added, when Daniel was gone, "you must eat a little something, so as to have a different feeling in your stomach, for such things take away a man's strength." Did he speak entirely from benevolence, or a little from self-love? For when the breakfast came, Axel ate nothing, but he ate like a thresher.
About ten o'clock, Frida came into the room, and exclaimed:
"Herr Inspector! and you, Axel?"
"Yes, dear Frida: I got home this morning," said the young man in a low voice.
"And now you will not go away again, now you will stay here," said Frida, decidedly. "Ah, Axel, I have much to tell you,--good news. But how do you and the Herr Inspector happen to be together?"