Herr Balzer drew a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his eyes. In a theatrical manner he walked towards the countess, exclaiming, whilst he stretched out his hand:
"Countess, you will understand me at once, you must understand me; I trust my fate to your discretion,--only in common with yourself can this melancholy transaction--"
"I must really beg you, sir," said Countess Frankenstein, looking anxiously at the bell, from which she was separated by Herr Balzer, "I must really beg you to state the facts."
"Herr von Stielow," said Balzer, again covering his eyes with his large yellow silk pocket-handkerchief.
Clara folded her hands in breathless suspense.
"Herr von Stielow," repeated Herr Balzer, in a voice that appeared to struggle for composure, "that volatile young man who is so happy in the possession of so lovely, so worthy a fiancée," he bowed to Clara, who turned from him with disgust, "this volatile young man dares to rob me of my happiness, to destroy my peace--he keeps up a criminal correspondence with my wife."
With a low cry, Clara sank down upon the chair before which she stood, and wept silently.
Countess Frankenstein remained standing upright. Her eyes rested fiercely and proudly upon this detestable messenger of evil, and in a voice in which no emotion was perceptible, she asked:
"And how do you know this, sir? Are you quite sure?"
"Alas! only too sure," cried Herr Balzer, pathetically, again applying his handkerchief to his eyes, which were quite red with repeated rubbing.