"One more request," said the young officer, "which can only be justified by the strange position in which we are placed."
The count bowed.
"Will you lend me this letter? I give you my word of honour not to retain it more than an hour, and that no eyes, save those of a certain lady, shall see it," said von Stielow.
"This, too, is granted--a proof of my unbounded confidence."
"I take it, then, and I thank you from my heart."
"And now, sir," said the count, in a deep resonant voice, "permit me to request your friendship. I am older than yourself, and many of life's circumstances, which are still strange to you, lie before me like an open book, and the book of life cannot be read without pain and sorrow. The hand of a friend, of an older and experienced friend, is a great protection--mine is always at your service."
And with a frank and noble movement Count Rivero offered the young officer his hand. Stielow seized it, not without emotion.
"I have behaved like a foolish child," he cried, with candid heartiness, "and I have to thank you for much; perhaps, for a happy change in my life."
They returned to the seconds, and drove back to town.
Herr von Stielow went home, seated himself at his writing table, and placed three bank notes, each for a thousand gulden, in a large envelope; he added the letter with which Count Rivero had entrusted him. He sealed and addressed the packet, then he rang.