CHAPTER XXV.
[THE SICK AND WOUNDED].
In a somewhat large salon adjoining the bedroom of his comfortable bachelor apartments, in one of the old-fashioned houses of a quiet part of the town, Lieutenant von Stielow, the morning after his return, lay upon a large sofa covered with dark red silk.
Half-closed curtains of the same colour hung before the window, admitting a subdued light into the room, where complete quiet prevailed, only broken from time to time by a carriage belonging to one of the aristocracy rolling swiftly past.
The young man wore a wide morning wrapping coat of black silk, with scarlet collar and facings; beside him stood a small table with a beautiful silver tea service; he slowly smoked a short chibouk, from which the fragrant clouds of Turkish tobacco floated about the room, and his features expressed perfect happiness and calm content. After the long privations and fatigues of camp life, the young officer for the first time enjoyed the quiet and rich comfort around him, and with happy looks he greeted everything; the numerous objects which his room contained, the paintings, the engravings, the curious arms, the bits of old Dresden china, in short all the thousand things which the good taste or passing fancy of a wealthy and cultivated young man collects in his rooms.
All this, which he had formerly been so accustomed to that he scarcely deemed it worthy of a glance, now smiled upon him with the charm of novelty; for so long his eyes had only seen pictures of privation, of horror, and of death, that the surroundings of his previous life met him with a greeting full of charm; then he thought of his love, of the dangers which had surrounded him upon the battle-fields, of the frightful peril which had threatened his young pure love from wicked machinations, of his happy preservation amidst the bullets and swords of the enemy, of the good fortune that had brought him back at the right moment to destroy those machinations, finally, of the hopes which were now his own without an obstacle. No wonder that his eyes beamed, that his lips smiled, and that the world looked as fair, as bright, and as charming as it only can appear to a young heart who sees itself possessed of everything that can make life one sweet enjoyment.
He had promised the Countess Frankenstein to take no step against the person who had made the low attempt on her daughter and himself. "Let us never again speak of those creatures, or remember anything of the affair, except to thank God who brought their wickedness to shame," said Clara, with a gentle smile; and so great is the elasticity of a heart of one-and-twenty, so great the conciliatory power of happiness, that he scarcely remembered the circumstance which had threatened the holiest feelings of his heart, except from the sweet feeling of higher enjoyment which lies in the full possession of that which you feared to lose.
The door opened quickly and a servant entered with a disturbed and frightened face.
"My lord baron," he said with some hesitation, "I must--"
The young officer turned his head and looked at him inquiringly; but he could not finish his sentence, for a slender female form in a light morning dress hastily advanced through the half-open door, and with a quick and decided movement pushed the servant aside. Her face was concealed by a thick veil hanging from her small round hat.