Outside in the vestibule they had a few minutes to wait, for the young Count, who had set off from home at a furious gallop, was returning at a snail's pace. The horse, fairly bathed in sweat, trembled in every limb; at length it halted before the door. The animal was evidently completely spent, and its rider seemed to be in the same condition. He, who usually would swing himself so lightly from the saddle, dismounted now slowly, almost laboriously, and it cost him a visible effort to ascend the few steps leading up to the entrance-hall. The Countess stood on the very spot where some months before she had received her son on his return from his foreign travels. Then, radiant with the happiness of meeting her, he had rushed impetuously into her arms. Today he did not even notice that his mother was there. His clothes were saturated with rain, his damp hair clung to his brow, and he moved slowly forward, never looking round, but walking straight in towards the staircase. 'Edmund!' It was a faint, trembling cry. Edmund turned, and beheld his mother standing close before him. She said not another word, but in her eyes he could read the misery, the anguish of the last few hours. And as she stretched forth her arms to him, he did not recoil, but stooped down to her. His lips met her forehead with a damp and icy touch, and in a whisper, audible to her alone, he said: 'Be at peace, mother. I will try and bear it for your sake.' CHAPTER XII. Two months had now passed since Oswald had taken up his abode in the capital, where he had met with a most friendly welcome. His friend and patron, Councillor Braun, ranked among the first jurisconsults of that city, and this gentleman, happy to lend a helping hand to the son of his deceased friend, stood warmly by him, advancing his interests, and lending him all the assistance in his power. He comprehended and sympathized with this young man in the resolution he had taken. It was a worthy impulse, the old lawyer felt, which withdrew Oswald from a life of dependence, easy and brilliant though it might be in outward circumstances--a right feeling which made him prefer to work and struggle on alone, rather than to receive constant benefits from his relations, and submit, in return, to play a subordinate part through life. Herr Braun and his wife were childless, and their young guest was received by them almost on the footing of a son. Oswald threw himself zealously into the work before him, and the approaching examination left him little leisure to ruminate on all that he had left at Ettersberg; still, it surprised him greatly that no news from the castle had reached him. Edmund had replied to his first long letter full of details by only a few lines, the style of which seemed strangely forced.