“Are you the son of Conrad Albrecht?” the visitor asked on seeing Fritz.
“Yes, your Honour, Fritz Albrecht is my name.”
“I am glad to know you, my boy, glad to know Conrad Albrecht’s son. Is it possible for me to see your father? I have something of importance that I wish to say to him.”
“My father is very ill, your Honour, and suffering great pain.”
“I know that, my lad, and it grieves me deeply; but,” he continued, as he laid his hand on Fritz’s shoulder, “I want especially to see him. This is my first appearance outside the house, and my doctors objected to my coming. I told them, though, that I would make this visit to Conrad Albrecht, cost me what it might.”
By this time they had reached the door of the sick-room, and Fritz went in first to prepare his father for the unexpected visitor.
“Ah, Albrecht, I am distressed to see you like this; they tell me you have suffered horribly.” And as he spoke, the nobleman seated himself in a chair which Fritz placed for him beside the bed.
“Yes, your Honour, I’ve had much pain. At first I thought all would be right with me in time; but now I realize that the end is near; for the doctors can give me little hope.”
“Too bad, too bad;” the count shook his head sadly, and Fritz saw that his eyes were full of tears. “I would give anything I possess, Albrecht, if it could only save you; and to think that I was the cause of this!”
Fritz, who had been a silent witness of the scene, was dismayed. How could Count von Scholtz have caused his father’s accident? At that moment, as though reading the question in Fritz’s mind, the count turned and said: