"We shall do our best to make the second meeting unnecessary," said the Markomann significantly to the representative of the Arminian, on the breaking-up of the conference.
Every precaution was taken to keep the fatal duel secret; only those concerned in it knew the hour: even to their near associates another day was spoken of; for the beadles were watchful, and the University had been called upon by the highest authorities to avert further consequences by all means in their power.
The day before the duel, the Prince invited the Markomanns to dinner, and there was so much talk upon relevant matters that the Chamberlain felt decidedly uncomfortable. Shortly before the breaking-up of the party, the Prince was standing with Beppo in a recess of the window; suddenly he seized the hand of the young man, held it fast, and his frame was violently convulsed with suppressed sobbing. The valiant youth looked at the Prince much moved.
"All will go well, your Highness," said he, consolingly.
"For you, but not for me," replied the Prince, and turned away.
As towards evening the Hereditary Prince walked restlessly through the rooms, the Chamberlain, who also wished to be relieved from his troubled thoughts, proposed that they should that evening pay a visit to the Rector. This was the only place where he was sure to hear nothing of the disagreeable history, and he was sharp-sighted enough to guess that this visit would be particularly agreeable to the Prince.
Ilse knew everything. Our student friend, who had involuntarily played the magpie, creating mischief between the parties, still haunted the neighborhood; he ventured, on one of the student evenings, to remain behind with Penelope when the others went into the Rector's room; he related the whole quarrel, described the dangerous position of the Prince, and begged her to say nothing of the occurrence to her husband. When, therefore, the Prince entered, a forced restraint and uneasiness was manifest in those present. The Chamberlain was more charming than ever, and related agreeable Court stories, but without effect. The Prince sat embarrassed in his place, next to Ilse; he felt the seriousness of even her friendly words; he saw how sorrowfully her eyes rested upon him, and when they met his he turned quickly away. At last he began, with unsteady voice:
"You once showed me the portraits of famous men that you have; may I ask you to let me see the volume again?"
Ilse glanced at him and rose. The Prince followed her, as before, into the next room. She laid the volume before him; he looked over it without interest, and at last began, in a low tone:
"All I wished was to be alone with you. I am helpless and very unhappy. I have no person on earth who will give me disinterested advice as to what I shall do. I have given offense to a student, and have been bitterly insulted by him. And I am now compelled to allow another to fight out the quarrel for me."