The General took the paper, which in the hurry had not even been folded:
“Come by the next train. Frightful storm. Must perhaps go to Reinhold. Aunt alone then with that wretch. Come for my sake, Ottomar’s, and aunt’s, who throws herself upon your mercy. Everything is at stake.—Elsa.”
Uncle Ernst came forward.
“I must wish you goodbye, General.”
“I will come with you.”
Uncle Ernst looked in astonishment at the General, who folded the telegram, while August, who with old Grollmann, whom he had met outside, had been looking after the two gentlemen’s things, and had now returned, seized the little box to carry it after his master to the carriage in which he had taken his seat with Uncle Ernst. The two servants were in the next carriage, which with the engine made up the whole train.
“They seem to be of one mind so far,” said Grollmann.
“Whatever is wanting still will be made up before we get to Sundin,” said August.
“If only the storm does not blow us off the rails first,” said Grollmann.
“It really is A 1,” said August.
VI
Nobody had had any sleep at Castle Warnow excepting Frau von Wallbach. And even she had been repeatedly awakened or nearly so by strange noises of rolling and rattling, just as if she were at home in the Behrenstrasse and a dozen big parties were breaking up at the same moment, and an alarm of fire sounding between whiles. What could it have been? The maid who brought her chocolate to her bedside told her that it was the storm, which had been raging fearfully since her lady went to bed last night.
“How odd!” said Frau von Wallbach. “But why have you come in so early? I do not want to start before .”
“It is now, ma’am; it will be no lighter today.”
“Of course not, if you do not open the shutters.”
“They have not been shut, ma’am; we did not dare to do it even last night. One shutter has already been torn off by the wind, as I saw from the ground-floor window.”
“How odd!” said Frau von Wallbach. “You have packed my things, I suppose?”
“Oh, certainly, ma’am; but we shall not be able to travel today. Herr Damberg has sent over to say that he is very sorry, but it can’t be done; there is no knowing what may happen, and he must keep all his horses at the farm.”
“Why, what could happen?”
“I don’t know, ma’am, but they do say that it may be something very bad. If you would only get up, ma’am, and see for yourself. One would think the world was coming to an end. Everyone is running about with pale faces, and I am dreadfully frightened, ma’am.”
“It is very foolish of you. Is Fräulein von Wallbach up yet?”
“Yes, ma’am, she has already inquired after you twice.”
“You may tell her that I can see her now. And then take my compliments to the Baroness, and ask her if she will be so kind as to lend me her horses to drive to Prora; I will come and see her myself as soon as I am dressed.”
Carla came in just as Louisa was slipping on her dressing-gown. She was already dressed for the day, and Frau von Wallbach thought her looking very pale, with deep circles under her eyes. Carla assured her that this was only the dreadful light, and besides, she had not slept quite so well as usual; but this was certainly less the result of the storm than of the communication that the Count had made to her when he rode by yesterday evening; he had only remained five minutes, just long enough to tell her this delightful story in a few hasty words.
“What story?” asked Louisa, sipping her chocolate.
“The same story,” said Carla, “which my sweet pet would not believe yesterday, but which she cannot help believing, now that the last interesting chapter has been partly played out in presence of Count Golm.”
And Carla gave her, with all the additions and embellishments she considered necessary for her purpose, an account of the events at Wissow Head yesterday evening.
Frau von Wallbach meanwhile finished her second cup, which she usually took on the sofa, and leaned back.
“Well, what do you say?” asked Carla.
“What should I say,” answered Frau von Wallbach, “since you prepared me for it yesterday? And I do not see either why you should pretend to be so very much astonished today. What does it signify after all to you or Golm? I should have thought you had both very good reason to be satisfied that things have turned out so. He could only marry one after all. It seems now that you will be the one.”
“But what will Edward say?” cried Carla.
“I do not see what objection my husband can have. It seems to me rather, the more I think of it, that he only sent us here to settle it between you. Only I think it would have been more civil of him—and of you too, by the way—if you had told me so beforehand instead of leaving me in the dark; and I shall tell Edward so when we get home today.”
Carla had sat down on the sofa by her sister-in-law, and was playing with one of the long ribbons of her dressing-gown.
“We, sweet pet?” said she. “I thought you meant to go home alone, pet?”
“And I think you are too foolish,” answered Frau von Wallbach, “and I should be ashamed of myself in your place, only I suppose you are too much in love to know what you are talking about. How can you, now that you have come to an understanding with Golm, as you seem to have done—”
“But there is nothing decided between us!” cried Carla.
“It is all the same, besides—begging your pardon—I don’t believe it. But no matter, you cannot remain another
