CHAPTER XXXVI THE DUEL
"Half-past five!"
Joubert was standing by the window, my bath-towels over his arm. He had drawn up the blind, and the light of early morning filled the room. I could have cursed Joubert, for he had awakened me from a most lovely dream.
In a full blaze of sunlight I had been walking in the gardens of Lichtenberg with Eloise; we were children again, and little Carl was marching before us, beating his drum. Past the fountains, past the Running Man carved in stone, we went, then into the shade of the forest, led by little Carl towards some great but indefinable happiness.
"Where are they?" I murmured, half unconscious that I was speaking, and rubbing my eyes as if to bring back the happy vision.
"Who?" asked Joubert.
I did not answer him. Who, indeed? Those children for ever vanished.
I dressed rapidly, and breakfasted. I felt both nervous and excited, exactly as I had felt on the night of the production of "Undine."
Then I sat down to write a line to Franzius and Eloise.
I had divided my property, in case of my death, leaving half to my guardian and half to Eloise. The will was with our lawyer, and I said so in a postscript to my note. When I had finished, Joubert appeared.