Otto was very far from really feeling the energy which he was displaying. On the contrary, he was cherishing the hope that the round-about way would ultimately prove too long; and that, even if they were to arrive in time, this insane duel should not come off. Thus the one care which had still been weighing somewhat upon his elastic temperament was gone. As for the rest, why all had come about as nicely as possible. Could he have anticipated anything of the kind when, an hour ago, he was driving to town in his despair, with the remembrance of that awful scene with his wife upon him like a nightmare? What would she say now? How would she take it? Not well, of course. She would call it a terrible humiliation--disgraceful. Nonsense! It was the simplest and most loyal arrangement in the world. Why should not Bertram make Erna his heiress, for he had neither kith nor kin, and had always been so fond of her? Hildegard had never liked Erna to call Bertram uncle. In future, perhaps, she would not object to it. And what about the big loan? Well, the bigness was its chief merit. A few thousand thalers here, a few thousand thalers there, how ignoble, how mean! But a hundred thousand thalers, that was decent; there was nothing derogatory about that. Hildegard would herself see that; and moreover, if Erna was to inherit the money anyhow, it remained, as it were, in the family. Then he wondered how his wife would get on with the young lieutenant, whom yesterday they had both seen for the first time. Only yesterday! But a man must see his son-in-law once for the first time. And he seemed to be such a charming fellow! What a pity that he was not of noble birth, for that had, after all, been Lotter's chief merit in Hildegard's eyes. Poor beggar! he really was sorry for him. That is what a man may come to when he is seriously embarrassed! Awful! And all for a mere trifle--those dirty three thousand thalers! If he had given him the money yesterday, or if Lotter had won them at play, the whole business might have been hushed up, and the beggar would not have run a-muck at everybody. The fellow was not a bad sort, hang it, quite a jolly fellow to get on with! Now, what fiend had possessed Bertram on this occasion; Bertram, who, on principle, made a point of avoiding all social conflicts, or, if the worst came to the worst, always knew how to make a courteous and clever diversion; Bertram who, even as a student, had never fought a duel, and had never concealed his aversion on the subject? And where on earth was, in this case, the necessity for fighting the man? Bertram must have known that Lotter's farce at Rinstedt was played out, that Hildegard had given him up for good and all. The foe who is running away should have golden bridges built him, not be impeded in his retreat. Well, well, it was to be hoped that Lotter at least had meanwhile come to his senses and gone away. To be sure, this was the most likely thing to have happened. Lotter, cunning