"Is his present ghastly appearance entirely the effect of champagne?" the Assessor asked, with a slight laugh. "What else could it be? Do you think he can be seriously ill? I trust not." "It seems, Count, that your great kindness of heart prompts you to endeavour to hush up this ugly story. I admire your amiability. I am naturally kind-hearted myself. I make no boast of it,--the gifts of nature are variously distributed; but it enables me to understand you, Count, and it makes it all the more painful for me to tell you that you never will succeed in crushing this scandal,--nothing else if talked of throughout the room. See how every one looks at Sorr, how his most intimate acquaintances avoid him, turning away as he passes them. Your kindness can avail that man nothing, Count; he is lost, branded, and he knows it; a guilty conscience speaks in every feature of his face." Repuin had observed the same thing, and exulted to see the contempt with which Sorr was treated by those of his acquaintance whom he was obliged to pass in gaining his wife's side. What had taken place in Heinrich's room was already known here, then. The young officers had blabbed; they could not have told all, for they did not know all, but enough had been said to affect greatly Sorr's reputation. This was just what he had intended, that Heinrich and his companions should suspect Sorr's guilt without being sure of it. He had hoped to find the ball-room filled with dark rumours, and his wishes were gratified. Sorr would now be convinced that it needed but a word from Repuin to annihilate him, and that his only hope for the future lay in implicit obedience to the Russian's commands. He, however, feigned to be greatly amazed. "I do not understand you, Herr von Hahn," he said. "What ugly story is it that my discretion is to crush? Why should poor Sorr have a guilty conscience in addition to a bad headache? What has he done?" "That you know best, Count." "I am but a poor hand at guessing riddles, and must beg you not to propound them to me, but to tell me plainly what has happened. I must request an explanation in the interest of my friend Sorr." The Assessor looked at the Count with a very puzzled air. He really did not know what to think. Arnim had given him a succinct account of what had taken place in Heinrich's study, and had added his opinion that "Sorr was now done for," since Repuin had doubtless detected him in cheating at the game. Arnim's trustworthiness was not to be questioned, but how did his story tally with the Count's behaviour? Surely Repuin would not call a detected cheat his friend? The Assessor did not know what to believe; he was in a very disagreeable position. The only way out of it for him was to tell the Count what reports were current in the ballroom, and thus justify his over-hasty expressions.