"How could you do this?" he suddenly asked. "What!" she cried, and her eyes flashed. "Do you dare reproach me with that letter? Are you not human? have you never had parents? And yet you say you love me!" "I did not mean it so," he replied. "You are right. We must commence to think of going home. But not before spring. A winter journey from Lake Garda to Galicia, with that delicate child, would be madness. Remember our journey to Fiume!" "That is an especially difficult road. We can go _via_ Vienna." "The Alps are very unpleasant in winter. Think if anything should happen to the boy. We must not have that on our conscience." "When, then, do you propose to leave?" "As soon as it is spring." "In April. Very well, then. Your word of honor, Agenor." "They will have arrested me before then," was his thought. "My word of honor," were his words. "Once more, when is the baby to be baptized? It is six weeks old, and nurse complains she is laughed at on account of the little heathen." "As soon as possible," he promised. "I have no papers with me to prove my authentic name. I wrote for them, but they have not yet arrived. It is so far." "Yes, it is far," she sighed, gazing into space. "But you had better make the most of this beautiful day. Go for a row on the lake." "Won't you go with me?" She declined. He took her cold hand in his, and said, tremulously, "Judith, whatever happens--" but his throat seemed to contract so as to forbid speech, and he left the room. Mechanically he seized his hat and went to the lake. As he walked slowly along, one thought was ever present--how could he escape the dangers brought about by this letter? Perhaps by a speedy flight to Egypt or Sicily. But no, if the authorities had really been informed and were determined to prosecute, flight would be useless. The police would already be on his track, and only one thing remained--a bullet in his brain, or a jump into the clear water. Sitting in the boat and pondering upon these things, he was recalled to himself by the boatman's voice: "Do not lean over so far, Signor Conte. It throws the boat out of its balance." No, he must not do that, unless it should be absolutely necessary, if only for the sake of Judith. "Turn back!" he ordered; and as the little town rose to meet him out of the waves, he made an effort to collect his thoughts. There was but one course to pursue; to order Wroblewski to spare no trouble to stop further proceedings in the courts. "He has influence in this regard, and will do it to save his own skin," he said to himself. That Herr von Wroblewski had lost his position, and in what manner, the count knew not, the ex-magistrate having considered it wiser to keep the matter to himself; and Herr Stiegle never wrote a line more than was necessary.