The gentlemen were busy obeying the ladies' orders and arranging the chairs; the circle was almost formed, when all of a sudden, high above the tuning of the obstinate instruments of the musicians and the clinking of glasses on waiters and of cups in the hands of thirsty people, voices were heard in an adjoining room which did not sound very festive. There were loud voices, hoarse with wine and rage--threats fell here and there--only a few words, but just enough to startle all who were in the ball-room, for a moment, out of their forgetfulness of the world. It was only for a moment, for a quarrel in coarse words was by no means a rarity in this refined society, and often lasted much longer than this time. Nor would this interruption have made any more impression than many others on similar occasions, if a second occurrence in the ball-room itself had not lent to the former a peculiar significance, which was quite clear to the cleverer part of the company. For hardly had the hoarse, threatening voices in the next room been silenced by a third voice, which seemed to exercise an undisputed authority over them, than Hortense, who was just about to dance the German, seized the arm of her partner and fell fainting on a chair, which the latter had just had time enough to draw up. The consternation was, of course, very great. Although a dozen smelling-bottles were at once ready, and cologne was poured on brow, eyes, and temples of the fainting beauty, it still lasted several minutes before she recovered enough to smile her thanks, with pallid lips, and to beg them, more by looks than by words, to take her back to the other room. This was done promptly, and those who remained behind looked at each other as if they did not know what to make of the event. "I suppose the ball is over now?" asked Adolph von Breesen, who was to dance the German with Lisbeth, whom he adored, of Oswald, in an under tone. "I am afraid so," replied the latter. "Are we going to dance?" asked a third. "Impossible," replied Langen; "I have ordered my horses." "What was the meaning of that affair between Barnewitz and Cloten just now?" asked still another. "Who knows? They had taken a glass too much. That is all," said Langen. "I should be glad if that were all," said Breesen, "but I fear there is more behind it. They tell me Cloten left the house on the spot." Baron Barnewitz appeared by Oldenburg's side in the ball-room. The face of the latter looked as calm as ever, but that of his host was purple with excitement, anger, and overmuch wine; his eyes were swimming, and his voice was unsteady, as he tried to persuade the gentlemen to go on dancing. "Go home?--nonsense--can't let you go--Halloh! Champagne here--Home?--why? My wife faints at any time, for reasons and without reasons--why? I couldn't see anybody if that--Music! Hi! Go on, music!"