"But don't make such a fuss about it," I said, trying with very mixed
feelings to escape the ensign's rather too exuberant gratitude.
CHAPTER XII.
The two brothers Von Zehren, with the commerzienrath, were occupied for
an hour the next morning in a conference which was the object of this
family gathering. The session must have been a lively one. The room in
which they were was just above the office, and although the house was
solidly built, I had more than once heard the shrill voice of the
commerzienrath. I felt a sort of disquiet, as if my own fortunes were
the matter at stake. Had I not been, by the strangest combination of
circumstances, held as it were perforce in connection with this family?
I had taken an active part, as a friend and confident, in the most
important events connected with it; and my own fate had been entirely
determined by these events and my relation to various members of
the family. If Arthur had not wanted to have me with him at the
oyster-feast on board the _Penguin_ that morning--if I had not met
the Wild Zehren at Pinnow's that evening after the scene with my
father--if----
"The gentlemen upstairs would like to see us," said Sergeant Süssmilch,
thrusting his gray head in at the door.
"Well!" said I, laying the pen from my hand, not without a little
quickening of my pulse.
"Well, what?" asked the sergeant, coming in and latching the door after
him.
"Well, I had hoped that they would not want me," I said, getting down
from my stool with a sigh.
"Want you for what?" asked the veteran, stroking his long moustache and
looking at me half angrily.
"It is a long story," I answered, adjusting my necktie at the great
inkstand on the table, which offered me a very distorted reflection of
myself.
"Which one need not tell an old bear with seven senses, as he would not
be able to understand it," answered the sergeant, with a little
irritation in his tone.
"I will tell you another time," I said.
At this moment, in the upper room, two voices were raised so high, and
two chairs were simultaneously pushed back with so much violence, that
the sergeant and I gave each other an expressive look. The sergeant
came close to me and said in a confidential hollow tone:
"Fling both those fellows down the steps, and when they get down to me,
I will pitch them out of the house."
"We'll see about it," I answered, shaking the hand of the old Cerberus,
who had growled these last words apparently from the pit of his
stomach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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