"Then his eyes met those of the old stranger. He turned deathly pale; the old man shook in every limb. Handsome Truyn, very red in the face, stammered:
"'Your father has come to see you: it gives me much pleasure to make his acquaintance,' or some well-meant awkwardness of that kind.
"But Zwilk smiled, his upper lip drawing tight under his nose, showing his teeth, large, square and white, like piano keys.
"'Der papa?' he simpered, elegantly, looking all over the court, as if searching for him; then, as the old man, stretching out his trembling hands, 'Loisl!' Zwilk fixed him with a cold stare and said, 'I don't know the man; he must be crazy.'
"Ashamed, confused, the stranger let fall his hands; he caught his breath, then looking anxiously from one to the other of us, he stammered:
"'It is not my son. I was mistaken: a very grand gentleman. Not my son.'
"'Never mind,' strutted Zwilk, and clapped him jovially on the shoulder. 'There, drink my health,' and he reached him a silver gulden.
"The old man took it with an indescribable, hesitating gesture; looked again in a scared way around on us all, lifted his eyes sadly, as if begging forgiveness, to the face of the Nobl' Zwilk, and turned away, repeating, 'Not my son!'
"He was blind with grief. He struck against the sharp corner of the stone gatepost, recoiled, felt about with his hands for support, and disappeared.
"We were dumb. There came the ring of a coin on the pavement without, a half-choked sob, then nothing more.