"'Dost thou dine at the Austrian Court to-day?' inquired Zwilk, with cheerful effrontery of his friend Bonbon, whose arm he took.
"Farmer Toni hawked and spat slowly and deliberately at Zwilk's feet, but Zwilk had the presence of mind not to see it, and left the place on Liscat's arm, still smiling.
"We looked at each other. Count Erich's eyes were full of tears. Schmied's fists were clenched, and his lip trembled. All of us felt a tightness in our throat. We longed to rush after the disowned man; to surround him with respectful attentions; to pour out kind words and consolation,--if we could have found consolation. But it was one of those moments when fine feeling lays a restraining hand on sympathy, and we pass the sufferer blindly by, not daring even to uncover our heads.
"In the square before the barracks, a silver gulden sparkled on the pavement in the cold winter sun.
* * * * *
"New Year had come in when the party broke up at Prince Schirmberg's, and we rode homeward by a narrow, snow-covered path across the fields, a short cut, by which the heavy equipages of the other guests could not follow us.
"The soirée had been a great success. The prince of the blood had shown himself, as usual, all affability, and Zwilk, warmly recommended to favor, had been graciously distinguished by His Royal Highness.
"The slightly faded Countess Schnick had looked very pretty. Zwilk had been courting her since autumn, and to-night she had been very encouraging to the future adjutant of Prince Schirmberg. And Zwilk, after the departure of His Royal Highness, had beamed and twinkled, and shone as if varnished all over with good fortune, patronizing everybody, even his friend Bonbon. Now he rode, sunk in pleasant reveries, a little apart from us, at the head of our cavalcade.
"The moon shone clear. Sown with countless stars, the sky blue and cloudless arched above an endless expanse of snow. Everything around us was of a blinding whiteness, an unearthly purity, and still as death. Only now and again, at long intervals, a light shudder trembled through the silence, a swift rushing, a deep sigh,--then once more silence.
"'It is a parting soul,' said Erich Truyn, listening, much moved. Erich was a little superstitious.