Van Weller (aside). Ah! that was Huser. (To Frans.) What happened then?
Frans. They were admitted to see him, but the servants were sent away. But as I have always been very fond of tragedy scenes, I managed to peep through the keyhole; and I saw that the Major fell on his knees beside the bed, and cried. The kneeling was very well done ... his contenance was simply perfect ... I was all attention. Old Mr Van Bergen held out his hand to him, and said——
Van Weller (rising quickly). That is just what I want to know—go on!
Frans. That he was thirsty.
Van Weller (sits down again, as if disappointed). That’s not what I meant. Go on!
Frans. They gave him something to drink. Then he sat up in bed, and put his arms round that officer. “Let us part in peace,” he said, “sans rancune!” The officer kept on crying, and said, “Can you ever forgive me, Bergen?” The master smiled, and said, “Gladly! gladly!—sans rancune, dearest——”
Van Weller. Well—dearest what?
Frans. I couldn’t catch the name. And I never saw that Major again. I heard that he died about six months later.
Van Weller (aside). It must have been Huser—not a doubt about it! (To Frans.) And then? What happened next?
Frans. The wounded man asked one of the officers to call his little Charles—that was the young master, who was still in the summer-house—I had got out.... The young gentleman came up to the bed, and, instead of being pleased at getting out sooner than he expected, he began to cry too.