"Oh, Carl, how can you say such things? I saw it all. No, monsieur. They had a little quarrel as to who should play with the drum, and Toto pushed him, and he fell into the water. Was it not so, Carl?"
But Carl was incapable of answering. Screaming like a girl in hysterics he clung to the Baron, who had taken him in his arms.
"Now, then," said my father, who had come up. "What is this? What is the meaning of this, sir? Come, speak! Did you dare to——"
"Father," I said, "I pushed him, but I did not mean to hurt him—truly I did not."
"Do not blame him," said Von Lichtenberg, turning to the house with Carl in his arms. "It is Fate. Children do these things without knowing it. Do not punish him."
The hypocrisy of those last four words! Lost to my father, whose simple mind could not read the tones of a man's voice or guess what hatred can be hidden in honey.
"All the same," said my father, as the Baron departed, "the child is half drowned. You have disgraced yourself. Off with you to Joubert, and place yourself under arrest."
I saluted.
"Bread and water," said my father; "and for three days."
I saluted again, and marched off to the house dejectedly enough.