"Do not take the matter so easily," Michael admonished him. "You certainly have a hard battle to fight; my uncle will be furious." "I know it; that's why I am all armed and equipped. You're not going; I can't spare you. When the fight grows too hot I shall summon you as my _corps de réserve_. Do stay and help me." "I am glad, at all events, that there is to be no more secrecy," said the young officer, discontentedly, as he withdrew into the recess of a window. "I promised you to be silent, but it was very hard for me; harder than for you." "Bah! I did not know what else to do. And you soldiers admit that all's fair in war. Hush! here he comes! Now for the assault!" The Professor re-entered the room, and took his seat comfortably in an arm-chair, beckoning his son to take his place beside him. "You certainly have been in good hands," he began. "My colleague, Bauer, is an authority in his specialty, and shares my views entirely. That was the reason why I yielded to your earnest entreaty and sent you for two years to B----. I was afraid that the chief attraction for you lay in the gay student life there, but I nevertheless judged it best that you should pursue your studies under other guidance than my own, after I had laid the foundation for them. Now let me hear." The young man was evidently made very uncomfortable by this prelude; he twirled his handsome moustache, and stammered somewhat as he replied, "Yes,--Professor Bauer; I attended his lectures--very regularly." "Of course; I recommended you to him particularly." "But I did not learn anything from him." Wehlau frowned, and said, reprovingly, "Hans, it is very unbecoming so to criticise a worthy man of science. His delivery, to be sure, leaves much to be desired, but his treatises are admirable." "Good heavens, I am not speaking of the Herr Professor's treatises, but of my own, and they were unfortunately far from admirable. I felt that myself, and accordingly I made a slight change in my course of study." "Against my express directions. I laid out your course precisely for you. To whom did you go, then?" Hans hesitated to reply, and glanced towards the window where his 'reserves' were stationed, before he said, in a rather constrained voice, "To--to Professor Walter." "Walter? Who is he? I do not know the name." "Oh, papa, you surely must have heard of Friedrich Walter. He has a world-wide reputation as an artist." "As a what?" the Professor asked, not crediting his ears. "As an artist, and that was the reason why I wanted to go to B----. Master Walter lives there, and did me the honour of receiving me into his atelier. In fact, I have not applied myself to the study of natural science; I have become a painter!" It was out at last. Wehlau sprang to his feet, and stared speechless at his son.