As the General continued writing, he remembered that amongst their friends Schönau's and Elsa's names had been often coupled together in jest, with the regret that it might not be done in earnest, as the two were far too good friends ever to fall in love with each other. He had shared this view, not without some regret. Could he have been mistaken? Could Schönau--it would be no detraction from his generosity--be offering help less to the father of his friend than to the father of the girl he loved? In the excited state of his mind these thoughts had taken no more time than was required to carry his hand from the end of one line to the beginning of another; and moved by the sudden consideration, he stopped in his writing, and looked up at Schönau who stood by him. A sad smile played round the Captain's firmly-closed lips. "Do not stop, General," said he; "I desire and expect nothing, I assure you, but the continuation of your friendship and that of your belongings." The General compressed his lips and went on writing. It was bitter--most bitter to him to have to take everything from the full hands of this generous friend, with no power of returning to him anything from his own empty ones--it was too bitter! A cloud came over his eyes; he was forced to break off. "There is nothing but the signature wanting," urged Schönau, leaning over his shoulder. "I cannot do it, Schönau!" said the General. "I implore you," cried the Captain, "life and death hang upon it--oh! my God!" Startled by a sound at the door, he had turned and saw Colonel von Bohl enter the room. "Too late!" muttered Schönau; and then, with a desperate effort to save what was already lost: "Your signature. General!" But the General had turned round, and had seen the Colonel. Ottomar then had been to him already--had told him everything; the affair could go no further without consultation with his commanding officer. The Colonel's usually severe military aspect had the stamp of a solemn gravity upon it now, as he said, after briefly apologising for his intrusion: "Have the goodness, my dear Schönau, to leave us. I have a communication to make to the General which will admit of no delay, and which I must make without witnesses." A word trembled upon Schönau's lips, but he restrained himself, and only bowed and said: "Certainly, Colonel!" and then turning to the General: "May I ask permission to pay my respects meanwhile to Fräulein Sidonie!" then, after a little pause: "In case you should wish, however, to see me again, I think my visit will be a long one."