"To Sundin?" repeated the General. Strange that he had not guessed that at once! If Ottomar intended to live, his first thought must naturally be revenge upon that scoundrel--or was it rather the last thing that he wished to accomplish before his death? He might have left it to his father; but, still, here was a gleam of light in the terrible darkness--a spark from the heart of the son, who was not, after all, so entirely lost, into that of the father. "It was not mentioned in the note," said he. He had raised his head a little, and a feeble fire shone in his sad eyes; there was some look in him again of the iron soldier with whom Uncle Ernst had had that terrible passage-of-arms the other day. "Not mentioned?" said Uncle Ernst; "but, good heavens----" He broke off suddenly; his face darkened, and his voice sounded harsher, almost as it had done that morning, as he continued: "Then in his brief note. Captain von Schönau probably did not mention the circumstance that Herr von Werben undertook the journey in question with my daughter!" The General drew himself up at these words, like a man who was about sharply to resent an unexpected insult. The looks of the two men met; but while Uncle Ernst's eyes blazed more fiercely, the General's sought the ground, as, with a faint groan, he sank back in his chair. "Miserable man!" he muttered to himself. "You have to thank this circumstance--I mean the intervention of my daughter--that he is still alive," said Uncle Ernst. "I can feel no gratitude for that," replied the General in a hollow voice. "And that the father has not the son's death upon his head." "The father would have been able to endure that responsibility." "So I should suppose," muttered Uncle Ernst. He sat for a few moments silent, and his looks also were now gloomy and downcast; but this was neither the time nor the place to renew the ancient feud. In a composed tone he said: "If General von Werben did not know where Herr von Werben was gone, and that he was with my daughter, may I ask what brought him here?" "I had intended to call to account the man whom I must suppose has brought ruin upon my son, as he has already brought ruin and shame upon my family. I confess that I hardly see any sense in this project now, and that I----" The General made a movement as if to rise. "Do not go, General," said Uncle Ernst. "If time had permitted, I would have gone to you and asked the favour of an interview; now that chance--if we may call it chance--has brought us together, let us make use of this half-hour; it may spare us perhaps years of vain remorse." The General shot from under his bushy brows a dark, uncertain glance at the speaker.