Eugen did not answer, he turned away and walked off angrily without any word of greeting. Hermann shrugged his shoulders, he knew his friend's temper, and also knew it would not last long. Such scenes were not of unfrequent occurrence between them. Reinert, after such a one, usually played the part of an injured person, but ended generally by leaning to his friend's superior wisdom. Meanwhile the sky had grown darker and darker, the wind rose and whistled in the tops of the trees. Graf Arnau glanced at the clouds, and turned towards the Schloss. Just then the wind, with a sudden gust, blew aside the neighbouring bushes, and something glimmered amongst them like a woman's dress. Struck with a sudden presentiment, Hermann stopped and peered sharply through the bushes, nothing could be made out distinctly, but he strode a few steps forward, and the next moment stood before Gertrud Walter. The girl had sunk on her knees, her head against the root of a great tree, her face hidden in both hands. By no sound had she betrayed herself, but she had broken down at the sudden news, which had come upon her unexpectedly like a flash of lightning. Hermann only needed to stand there an instant, in order to understand and feel how fearfully humiliating his presence would be to her at this moment. For an instant he looked down at her silently, then turned and walked away as quietly and quickly as he had come. But after walking a few steps, he stopped and looked back. She lay as still and motionless as a statue--perhaps she had fainted--perhaps--the Count had not decided within himself what common humanity and compassion demanded in this case, before he again stood at her side. "Fraeulein!" No answer, nor the slightest movement. Hermann bent down and lifted her up. She received his help silently, and whilst she mechanically raised her head, her eyes gazed unconsciously at his face. "You are not well! May I offer you my assistance as far as the village?" He ought not to have spoken, for with the tone of his voice came back at once strength and consciousness, and with it hostility against him. There it was once more, that terrified shrinking, which she had shown in the morning, the same strange hostile look returned to her eyes, it seemed, as if in the one feeling of detestation against him, even the remembrance of the last quarter of an hour was forgotten. "I need no help--I am well--quite well--" She walked a few steps, but tottered, and was obliged to lean against a tree to keep herself from falling. The wind shook the branches and sent a shower of leaves down upon her; the first flash of lightning quivered through the air, and a distant growl of thunder followed it. Hermann, who had again turned away, once more returned to the young girl, and said, with a decision, through which some bitterness sounded--