It was at this time that something happened to rouse him from the contemplation of his own degradation. His old friend, fat and honest Hans von Sembritzky, drew him cautiously one day at the Prussian Crown into a corner and said, puffing and short of breath--
"A word with you, old man. Although it is not a very serious matter in itself, and may not mean much, you ought to look after your little sister Elly a bit. She is just at the age, you know, when girls do silly things. At any rate, it would be wise to keep writing-materials out of her way; ink is rather a dangerous medium for flirtation."
Leo, half alarmed and half annoyed, demanded an explanation.
"You know Pastor Brenckenberg's cub, who has been loafing about at home for more than a year, doing no good? Swaggering corps student, boasts of his colours and his clubs; but to what purpose? The fellow gets more and more dissipated and dissolute, and he dare not show his nose now in any decent house; even the bailiffs are sick of him. And no wonder, as----"
Leo interrupted with a brusque suggestion that he should come to the point.
"Well, my bailiff Lawrence, a thoroughly honest and reliable person, told me yesterday that the Kandidate Brenckenberg had been passing round his love-letters from little Elly Sellenthin in a beer cellar at Münsterberg, and had also read passages from them aloud. Some of the company had been amused, others indignant. In short, the affair has caused a scandal."
Leo felt a sense of cruel triumph mingle with his rage. He had wanted some object that he could crush, pulverize, and annihilate, and here he had one to his hand. Hans was astonished at the loud laughter with which he greeted his information, and a little hurt.
"You don't seem to take the matter seriously," he remarked.
"Wait a bit, old fellow; only wait," said he, and clapped him on the shoulder.
Then he sat down and drank deeply, while his friend shook his head and privately deplored his rapid degeneration.