The Breaking of the Storm

her glass from her eye; “it is so interesting. In spite of my eighty-two years, I have never seen anything like it. Only just look, my dear Wallbach, at that table where the little bald-headed man is sitting who a little while ago proposed that man Lasker’s health; tell me⁠—I did not hear a word of it for my part. The man with the long fair hair is positively kissing his neighbour⁠—an artist too of course⁠—enviable people! Who is the handsome young man with the black hair and fiery eyes; at the same table? I have noticed him already this evening⁠—a foreigner, we do not grow such plants. He, moreover, never takes his eyes off Ottomar’s table. He seems to be struck by the pretty ballet-dancer. I cannot understand how Ottomar can go on flirting with Ferdinanda, when he has such a choice before him. But it is no use disputing about taste; it is a wonderful thing. That faded Agnes Holzweg and Prince Wladimir. Well, he cannot be very particular, and it seems to be going off too, as he has not even been here for a few minutes. Take care of the old lady! Pooh! She can hear me? I can hardly hear myself speak. That old woman is a tremendous chatterer. She was talking just now for ever so long to young Grieben of the Hussars, who I think is somehow related to her, and has also paid attentions to Agues in his time, before the Prince began to do so. There he is talking to Ottomar. If the old lady has been chattering, Grieben will take the greatest satisfaction in boring Ottomar with it, as he knows of his dislike to Agnes, whom Grieben, I hear, in spite of all, still adores.”

“But, my dear lady,” cried the horrified Wallbach, “you have not told that notorious gossip⁠—”

“Look! look!” cried the Baroness, giving Wallbach a sharp blow with her closed fan, “there, at the first⁠—second⁠—fourth table! The men are coming to blows! it is really splendid! I never saw anything like it in my life.”

“It really is high time for us to go,” said Herr von Wallbach; “it is getting too bad. Allow me to send a servant for my carriage⁠—”

“Well, if you really are determined,” said the Baroness, “but I am still amusing myself immensely.”

Herr von Wallbach had stood up, but the servants who were hurrying about with wine and ices seemed little inclined to do his errand, and he was forced to look elsewhere through the room for someone more accommodating.

Whilst he was still talking to the Baroness, Ottomar went up to Justus, who was talking to his friend Bunzel as quietly as if the storm which he had raised, and which increased in fury every minute, was not of the slightest consequence to him.

“A word with you, Herr Anders.”

“Ten, if you like,” rejoined Justus, jumping up; “but for heaven’s sake, Herr Von Werben⁠—”

“What?”

“Pardon me! you did not look very cheerful before, but now⁠—has anything unpleasant happened to you?”

“Indeed there has. Tell me, Herr Anders, I am in a great hurry, and cannot stop to explain⁠—I know that you are very intimate with Captain Schmidt, and I have just heard that there exists, some understanding between him and⁠—my sister. Do you know anything of this?”

Justus did not know what this meant. Ottomar’s eyes, blazing with fury and an excitement which rose above the fumes of wine, boded no good; but no evasion was possible.

“Yes, Herr Von Werben; and I am convinced that only the lack of any friendly advance on your part has made my friend hold back, and caused him to leave you in ignorance of his understanding with your sister, whilst, so far as I know, your father has long been acquainted with it.”

“Very likely, very likely,” said Ottomar; “my family and I have long been⁠—but no matter! And in any case⁠—I deeply regret that I did not cultivate Captain Schmidt’s friendship⁠—however, I admire and esteem him highly, very highly⁠—I should always have considered it an honour⁠—everything might have been so totally different⁠—”

He passed his hand over his brow.

“Is there still no possibility?” asked Justus quickly.

A melancholy smile passed over the handsome face.

“How I wish there were,” he said. “I thought myself⁠—but it is too late, too late! I have found that out⁠—this evening⁠—just now⁠—a man in my position cannot allow his name to be in everyone’s mouth; and that fact is used with great skill⁠—the greatest skill⁠—confounded skill!”

His teeth were gnawing hard at his lip, his angry eyes looked beyond Justus into the room as if seeking someone, and they kept their direction as he asked, even more hastily and abruptly than before:

“Perhaps you are also acquainted with Car⁠—with Fräulein von Wallbach’s relations with⁠—with⁠—I see by your eyes that you know what I mean. And you⁠—but the others, who are talking of it all round, and reckoning that for well-known reasons I must keep quiet about it; but I’ll be hanged if I do!”

“Only a man cannot have everything at the same time,” said Justus.

“But I will keep quiet before those chatterers until it suits one of them to speak out. I will settle it, believe me, in five minutes!”

Ottomar suddenly rushed away from Justus, “Like a falcon after its prey,” thought the latter, “Oh, this fatal honour! What sacrifices has Moloch already required! Poor boy! I like him in spite of all the harm that he has already done and that he still seems intent upon doing. Well, I cannot hinder him with the best will in the world. Good gracious!⁠—already half-past one!”

Justus had of his own accord promised Meta to leave the party at twelve o’clock punctually. He looked round for Antonio, who was talking eagerly, near the table at which Ottomar and the other officers had supped, with the piquante young lady whom one of the officers⁠—not Ottomar⁠—had conducted to supper, and who, now that Ottomar was also gone, appeared to have been left behind by the whole