Meanwhile both the young men had reached the entrance of the wood, and the Count stopped close by the bush where Gertrud was hidden. "What for?" repeated he. Eugen looked at him, somewhat surprised at the cool tone. "You ask me? Why, you know, Gertrud is here, and surely can imagine my painful, dreadful situation." "Tell me first of all, how does your future bride happen to be here?" "Through the most unlucky chance in the world! Her guardian is on the way to visit some relations in A, and is taking her with him. They had to pass this village, and Gertrud, who knew I was here, persuaded her uncle to stay a day, to give me, as she imagined, a pleasant surprise! I thought I should have, sunk into the earth when I heard she was here to-day!" "Indeed?" The peculiar coldness of the Count's tone formed a sharp contrast to Eugen's passionate voice. "A very painful chance, certainly! And what do you intend to do?" The young man passed his hand over his brow-- "I don't know!" said he, in a constrained voice. "I was obliged to make an excuse for appearing so disturbed to-day, and got away as quickly as I could, so as to escape questions; but she expects me to-night, and will persecute me with questions and entreaties. Do advise me, Hermann, what am I to do?" The Count sat down upon the trunk of a tree, with his back to the before-named bush; he did not for a moment alter his cold, repellant manner. "Something which will be anything but easy, but nevertheless _must_ happen--tell her the truth." "Impossible! I cannot!" "Eugen!" "I cannot!" repeated Eugen passionately. "To any one else I could, but demean myself in her eyes by such a confession, I cannot!" "You seem to fear those eyes very much. But if you dare not confess it, what then?" Eugen cast down his eyes. "I thought," said he, hesitating after a pause, "I thought I would not tell her anything at present. She is going away again this evening, and next week I shall leave for Italy with you. From then I thought of gradually loosening the tie--" "Gradually loosening the tie--well, I'm waiting to hear the next." The young painter seemed to be becoming more and more uncomfortable under his friend's steadfast glance. "I do not wish to wound Gertrud by allowing her to know of my relations with Antonie," said he hastily. "She may think that reasons of another kind, losses or unfortunate circumstances, oblige me to break off the connection. I have already hinted at something of the sort. It will be easier to explain by letter, and from a distance--you can understand that I wish to spare her as much as possible."