Lupinus shook his head sadly. "I have no happiness, I expect none."
"What was written in that letter?" said the old Lupinus sternly.
"That I had been faithful to my oath, and betrayed the secret I promised you to guard, to no one; that to-morrow I would receive my diploma; that you had promised, when I had accomplished this I should be free to choose my own future, and to confess my secret."
"Was that all the letter contained?"
"No—that I had resolved to choose a new career, resolved to leave the old paths, to break away from the past, and begin a new life at Eckhof's side." "My child at the side of a comedian!" cried the old doctor contemptuously. "Yes, I remember that was written, but I believed it not, and therefore have I come. Was your letter true? Did you write the truth to Ervelman?"
Lupinus cast his eyes down, and gave his hand to his father. "No," said he, "it was not true; it was a fantasy of fever. It is past, and I have recovered. To-morrow, after I receive my diploma, I will accompany you home, and you, friend, will go with us."
The next day the students rushed in crowds to the university to listen to the discourse of the learned and worthy Herr Lupinus. Not only the students and the professors, but many other persons, were assembled in the hall to honor the young man, of whom the professors said that he was not only a model of scholarship, but of modesty and virtue. Even actors were seen to grace the holy halls of science on this occasion, and the students laughed with delight and cried "Bravo!" as they recognized near Fredersdorf the noble and sharp profile of Eckhof. They had often rushed madly to thee theatre; why should he not sometimes honor the university?
But Eckhof was indifferent to the joyful greeting of the students; he gazed steadily toward the door, through which his young friend must enter the hall; and now, as the hour struck, he stooped over Fredersdorf and seized his hand.
"Friend," said he, "a wondrous anxiety oppresses me. It seems to me I am in the presence of a sphinx, who is in the act of solving a great mystery! I am a coward, and would take refuge in flight, but curiosity binds me to my seat."
"You promised poor Lupinus to be here," said Fredersdorf, earnestly.
"It is, perhaps, the last friendly service you can ever show him—
Ah! there he is."