"Most gracious sir," he said quietly, handing the roll to the count, "here are the papers of your writing desk."
"Thank you, my faithful Wallenrodt!" cried Adolphus Schwarzenberg, offering him his hand. "I knew that I could count upon you, and, when the writing desk was found empty, knew that you had understood my glance. But now, before we advise as to what is further to be done, let me examine these papers, for I do not exactly know whether they contain all that I would wish to conceal from Burgsdorf and my other enemies. Step into that window recess, friends, and let me look over these papers."
The two gentlemen retired into the deep window niche, and conversed together in whispers, while Count Adolphus rummaged over the papers with quick and nervous fingers. Ever quicker, ever more nervous became the movements of his hand, ever darker grew his brow, ever more anxious his countenance. As he laid aside the last sheet a sudden pallor overspread his face, and for a moment he leaned back in the fauteuil, quite faint and exhausted.
"Dearest sir!" cried the steward, hurrying toward him, "are not the papers all in order?"
"It is just as I feared," said the count, sighing. "My whole correspondence with my father, during my last sojourn at Regensburg, besides copies of my letters to the Emperor and Marwitz, were in the drawer of my father's writing table, and have been carried off with the rest."
"And did these letters compromise you, count?" asked Herr von Waldow, drawing nearer to him.
"With these letters in his hand, President von Götze, the chairman of the committee of investigation, can arraign me as guilty of high treason and condemn me to death."
A long pause ensued. With gloomy countenances all three cast their eyes upon the ground. Then the steward lifted up his head, with an expression of firm resolve.
"You must flee, gracious sir," he cried earnestly.
"Flee?" repeated the count, shrugging his shoulders. "Ah, you have not heard of what further happened after you withdrew to your place of concealment!"