"For God's sake! stop staring at me like that," he cried, interpreting every glance of Ulrich's as a want of confidence. "You must put up with me as I am, whether I please you or not. And let me repeat what I have often said before, old boy--you, with your narrow chest and anæmic temperament, can have no conception of the evil passions which rampage about in this powerful roomy carcase."
He struck his bare breast with his clenched hand, and thought to himself, "What a brute I am!"
Ulrich made no response, but looked at him blankly, more and more unable to comprehend him. Leo was conscious how, step by step, he was losing ground with his friend. He saw as clearly what was passing within him as if his heart lay exposed under the X-rays. To himself he appeared in the light of a clumsy actor, disgusted with his rôle, yet making renewed efforts to play it out to the bitter end. So he went on.
"Think what a life this is for a fellow like me. In America I was in the saddle sometimes for eight days together, and only happy when I was going for man or beast. But here I am at a loss, and what interest can I have in this hole? How amuse myself? It will end either in going to pieces or putting a bullet through my brain. Look at me. As I lie here now, I have lain since yesterday morning. They bring my meals to my room, and at night I creep into bed. I shall be glad when these cursed holidays are over, for then I shall at least be able to work again; if you can call it work. The futile rushing about on the estate, with scowling face, and air of undue importance, when in reality all there is to be done is done by God Almighty. But one must needs interfere, must be doing something to deaden reflection, to hunt the wretched thoughts that torment one out of one's head. Yet every day they recur, whether one runs away from them or lies in wait for them like a panther in a cage, and the burden of them is intolerable."
"What are these thoughts to which you are always alluding? For God's sake explain," cried Ulrich, scarcely able to master his anxiety.
Leo gave a discordant laugh. "It would not interest you," he said, and he gave Ulrich's face a piercing sidelong glance.
Ulrich sprang to his feet, and began to pace the floor. His breathing came in gasps, and his haggard cheeks were flushed. Then he stood still in front of Leo, and said, with resolve burning in his brilliant eyes--
"Look here, I'll speak seriously to you, old boy. I, too, have my burden to bear. I have never felt more keenly the desolation of my home than this Christmas, when the little chap who should have been dancing round the fir-tree has not been there. He ought to have come home, but my wife didn't wish it. There's something strained in the atmosphere of the house now, a feeling somehow as if misfortune were pending. I feel a stranger at my own fireside!"
Leo cowered under the touch of his thin hand, which he had laid on his shoulders, and Ulrich continued--
"My single joy now rests in my activity as a politician. Of course it means incessant and untiring labour. You know what commissions are? But the seed is sown, and by Easter we may expect results. Probably our object will have been gained. But there is an enormous amount to be done, and I shall be of more use in Berlin than anywhere else. Now listen? When I left home six weeks ago you seemed to me to be all right; you might have been a little grave for you, but you talked reasonably and your eye was clear. And now I am back and find you in such a state that I cannot forbear saying to myself, 'He looks as if he were going to the devil.'"