At length, while the morning was yet young, we came in sight of the town of Bradenfort, which we knew to be but five or six miles from the frontier. Our jaded horses were now at the last stage of fatigue, and I made up my mind that we must risk a stoppage to procure fresh ones. After all, that danger was less than the otherwise inevitable one of a breakdown, and the time we should lose over the business would be made up afterwards on the road. Accordingly, after entering the town in sorry fashion, we pulled up at a likely inn, where I made an exceedingly bad bargain for a new pair of horses, leaving the others as a part—a very insignificant part—of the price. But we were now able to bowl out of the town in refreshing style, and knew that, bar accidents, we were safe. In a short hour we were at the frontier, had safely passed the barrier, and, with intense relief, found ourselves beyond the jurisdiction of his grim Excellency the Chancellor Graf Rallenstein; although, if what I had learned at the Monastery were true, we had less to fear now from him than from Count Furello. Still, strong wills do not love to be successfully thwarted, and even statesmen who live for their country are not always above the vindictive passions of meaner men.
We now made more leisurely for the nearest town, where we could rest and decide on our next move. Moreover it was high time that we should put Strode into the hands of a surgeon. By noon we were comfortably quartered in the best rooms of the Adler-Hof at Rannsdau; the doctor had pronounced the loss of blood the greatest inconvenience that Strode’s wound was likely to cause him, and we could reflect with restful satisfaction upon a good night’s work.
The problem now was to communicate with Asta’s parents, and this was a business which in several ways might be fraught with danger, more particularly to the Fräulein herself. It was, on the other hand, clearly my duty to restore her to her family with as little delay as possible; but it seemed for the moment difficult to take any steps in that direction without again courting the danger she had just escaped. But the difficulty was solved, and most happily as it turned out, by a feasible suggestion made by Asta herself.
We were now within a comparatively short distance of the Italian frontier. At Verona an aunt of hers lived. She might find a pleasant asylum there until her parents had been communicated with. The idea was a happy one, and a few hours found us on our way to Verona. Poor Strode we were obliged to leave behind us, but I was fortunate enough to hear of an English clergyman in the place, whom I sought out and to whose good offices I commended my friend. Not exactly the companion, perhaps, the devil-may-care Strode would have chosen, but at least he would have some one to chatter English with.
On our arrival at Verona we agreed that Asta should remain for awhile at the hotel while I went on alone to tell her aunt the great news. I hardly know why we determined on this course, but it was well that we did so. For, on being ushered into the Signora Reballi’s drawing-room, I was brought face to face with two people in deep mourning, who, to my embarrassment, were made known to me as General and Madame von Winterstein, Asta’s parents. As I recovered from my surprise I bowed and said how fortunate I was to meet them, as I had lately come from Buyda, and the very reason of my visit was to acquaint the Signora with certain facts connected with the fate of Fräulein Asta von Winterstein.
My words had naturally a great and not altogether happy effect on her parents, and the General asked me, in some surprise, with a tinge of suspicion, how I came to know anything about it, and particularly Signora Reballi’s relationship to his daughter. To fence his question was idle, to blurt out the truth would have been dangerous, so I asked him to let me first of all speak a word to him in private. To this he acceded with an increasing suspicion and led the way to another room.
“You are sure,” I began, “that your daughter was killed in a carriage accident on the Salenberg road?”
“Unhappily; although——”
“The body has not been found. That in itself should leave room for doubt.”
He looked at me so strangely that I began to fear the effect of the news.