“No; but he is to his own caprice. Well, he will doubtless return. Rest and refresh yourself, Poël. Tell me,” and the general’s face took on an expression of solicitude, “tell me, Poël, have you been doing much running up and down?” “General, we came here direct from Bergen. My master was melancholy.” “Melancholy! Why, what can have occurred between him and his father? Is he averse to this marriage?” “I do not know. But they say that his Serene Highness insists upon it.” “Insists! You say, Poël, that the viceroy insists upon this match! But why should he insist unless Ordener refused?” “I don’t know, your Excellency. He seems sad.” “Sad! Do you know how his father received him?” “The first time, it was at the camp, near Bergen. His Serene Highness said, ‘I seldom see you, my son.’ ‘So much the better for me, my lord and father,’ replied my master, ‘if you take note of it.’ Then he gave his Grace certain details about his travels in the North, and his Grace said: ‘It is well.’ Next day my master came back from the palace and said: ‘They want me to marry; but I must consult my second father, General Levin.’ I saddled the horses, and here we are.” “Really, my good Poël,” said the general, in trembling tones, “did he really call me his second father?” “Yes, your Excellency.” “Woe to me if this marriage distresses him, for I will sooner incur the king’s displeasure than lend myself to it. And yet, the daughter of the Lord High Chancellor of both kingdoms--By the way, Poël, does Ordener know that his future mother-in-law, Countess d’Ahlefeld, has been here incognito since yesterday, and that the count is expected?” “I don’t know, General.” “Oh, yes,” thought the old governor, “he knows it; for why else should he beat a retreat the instant that he arrived?” Upon this, the general, with a friendly wave of the hand to Poël, and a salute to the sentinel who presented arms to him, returned in anxious mood to the quarters which he had left in anxious mood. V. It seemed as if every emotion had stirred his heart, and had also deserted it; nothing remained but the mournful, piercing gaze of a man thoroughly familiar with men, who saw, at a glance, the aim and object of all things.--SCHILLER: _The Visions._ When, after leading the stranger along the winding stairs and lofty halls of the donjon of the Lion of Schleswig, the officer finally threw open the door of the room occupied by the man he sought, the first words that fell upon his ear were once more these: “Has Captain Dispolsen come at last?”