The Privy Councillor’s face twitched. The conventional tone of the question made it seem frivolous to him.
Worn out for a moment by this dumb summons to laws of life that had lost their content and their meaning for him, Christian said: “Will you permit me to withdraw for five minutes? I had been sleeping when you rang. I think it was a sleep of many hours, and in my clothes, too, so I must wash. And I want also to beg you to take along a little package for mother. It contains an object that she values. I’m sorry that I haven’t the right to explain more fully. Perhaps, if you desire, she will give you the explanation herself, since the whole matter now belongs to the past. So pardon me for a few minutes; I shall be at your service almost immediately.”
He went into the adjoining room. The Privy Councillor looked after him with consternation in his large, blue eyes. While he was alone, he did not stir nor move a muscle of his body.
Christian re-entered. He had bathed his face and combed his hair. He gave the Privy Councillor a little package tied with a cord. On the white paper wrapping he had written: “For my mother. Gratefully returned on the day of final parting. One piece is lacking through the force of unavoidable circumstances; its value has been made up to me a thousandfold. Greeting and farewell. Christian.”
The Privy Councillor read the words. “More riddles?” he asked, coldly. “Why riddles on a placard? Have you not time to write a letter? Your ways were more courtly once.”
“Mother will understand,” Christian replied.
“And have you no other message for her?”
“None.”
“May I ask the meaning of these words: ‘on the day of final parting’? You referred once before to departure....”
“It would be more practical, perhaps, if you first told me the purpose of your visit.”