"Why has nobody come with you?"
Camilla told him with scared eyes that the Castle was in the most terrible trouble. A telegram had come in the morning, the Master had gone as pale as death, the old Chamberlain and his wife had cried out with pain—Otto had been killed out shooting the evening before.
Johannes seized Camilla's arm.
"Killed? The Lieutenant?"
"Yes. They're on the way with his body. It is terrible."
They walked on, lost in their own thoughts, and only woke at the sight of the people on the pier and the sound of orders shouted from the ship. Camilla bashfully gave him her hand; he kissed it and said:
"Well, well, I'm not worthy of you, Camilla, no, not in any sense. But I shall be as good to you as I possibly can if you will be mine."
"I will be yours. I have wanted it the whole time, the whole time."
"I shall follow in a few days," he said. "In a week I shall see you again."
She was on board. He waved to her, went on waving as long as he could see her. When he turned to go home Victoria was standing behind him; she too held her handkerchief in the air and waved to Camilla.