“You are hysterical!” said the princess.
“No; it is because—because—” She stopped and a blush suffused her face and temples.
The princess took the face between her hands and gazed long and earnestly into it. “Have you discovered a belated pity in your heart for me? Or is it because you thought him wounded unto death, and he was not?”
“It is both!” weeping.
The princess put her arms around the maid. “And you weep for happiness? Let us weep together, then; only—I can not weep for happiness.”
To return to the flight of Kopf. As he dashed down the road he heard two reports. At the second he experienced a terrible burning blow under the right shoulder-blade, and immediately his arm became paralyzed. He coughed. With a supreme effort he managed to recover his balance. Already his collar-bone had been cracked by a bullet either from von Mitter or from Scharfenstein.
“God's curse on them all!” he sobbed, pushing his knees into his horse; “God's curse!” He bit his lips; and when he drew his breath the pain which followed almost robbed him of his senses. Behind him the sound of hoofs came no nearer; he had a chance. He could not look back to see if he gained, however, as his neck was stiffening.
“Curse him and his damned gold! He never warned me as he said he would.” On he rode. The moon became obscured, and when it flashed again he could see it but indistinctly.... To reach the city, to reach Gertrude's, to give the horse a cut and send him adrift, this was his endeavor. But would he reach the city—alive? Was he dying? He could not see... Yet again he shut his jaws and drew on his entire strength. He was keeping in the saddle by will power alone. If the horse faltered he was lost. To Gertrude; she could use them. And after all he loved her. If he died she would be provided for.
The first of the city lamps. He sobbed. Into this street he turned, into that, expecting each moment to be challenged, for the white saddle blanket of the cuirassiers stood out conspicuously. At last he had but a corner to turn. He stopped, slid from the saddle and gave the animal a cut across the face. The horse reared, then plunged forward at a wild gallop. Johann staggered along the street, fumbling in his pockets for his keys.
Gertrude of the opera company was usually in the ballet. To-night she had left the stage after the first dance. She had complained of a severe headache, and as the manager knew her worth he had permitted her withdrawal from the corps. She lived off the Frohngarten, in an apartment on the second floor, over a cheap restaurant. She was bathing her temples in perfumed ammonia water, when she heard footsteps in the corridor, and later the rasp of a key in the lock. As the door opened she beheld a spectacle which caused her to scream.