Christian comforted good Mademoiselle Potin by assuring her that she should have no further cause of displeasure; and, well knowing how impossible it would be to comply with her wishes, he waited what was next to occur.
At one o’clock in the morning the major’s company arrived, silently, and with despatch. Information of the fact was given to him, and he declared the search for the will at an end. They had found nothing, to the great satisfaction of most of the heirs, who preferred trusting to their legal claims rather than to the doubtful benevolence of the deceased.
“Now, gentlemen,” said the major, “I must beg you to follow me to Stollborg, where I have reason to believe that a will has been confided to M. Stenson.”
They all rushed eagerly to the door of the room, but he detained them.
“Permit me,” he said; “under the present circumstances, a very grave responsibility rests upon the minister, upon M. Goefle, and myself, and I must proceed with great rigor, according to the duties of my office, to call together as large a number of responsible witnesses as can be found, and to see that all things are conducted in an orderly and satisfactory manner. Be so good as to accompany me to the hunting-gallery, where the other witnesses ought by this time to be assembled.”
In fact, in accordance with the major’s orders, all the guests at the new chateau had been requested to adjourn to the hunting-gallery. This virtual command was very annoying to many of them, who were already all prepared for their departure, but the indelta spoke in the name of the law, and they submitted.
Countess Elveda, eager to get off, and always very active, was the first to appear. She found Christian asleep on the sofa.
“What!” she cried, “is that your way of making ready for a journey!—And what are you doing here?” she added, addressing Margaret, who came in with her governess.
“I am sure I don’t know,” replied Margaret, “I am obeying a general order.”
Soon after Olga arrived, and then followed the minister’s family. M. Stangstadius, the ambassador and his suite, in a word, all the guests assembled at Waldemora, and most of them in very ill-humor at having been detained at the very moment of starting, or else at having been aroused from their sleep. They grumbled bitterly, and railed against the gloomy bell, which might have been let alone, they said, until every one had gone.