Down in the hall, which was brilliantly lit, Major von der Goltz and my father stood talking together in one corner, and Von Lichtenberg and General Hahn stood by the great fireplace, their hands behind them, neither of them speaking, and both with their eyes on the floor as if in profound thought. And I noticed that the great red mark on the Baron's cheek was still there, just as if a blood-stained hand had struck him. When they saw us coming, with Marengo following us, Von Lichtenberg and the General took their hats from a table close by and walked towards the door, which was opened for them by a servant. General Hahn held under his arm a bundle done up in a cloak, and from it protruded two sword-hilts. My father, taking my hand and followed by Major von der Goltz, came after the Baron. It was a clear and windy night; flying clouds were passing over the moon. Two carriages were drawn up at the door, and a dozen men with torches blazing and blowing in the wind gave light whilst our luggage was put in. The first carriage was our own, the second a carriage belonging to the schloss. Joubert put our luggage in and mounted on the box; then my father, bowing to Major von der Goltz, held the door open; the Major, with a slight bow to my father, got in; we followed, the carriage started, running torchmen leading us and following behind. "Are we truly going away, father?" I asked nestling close to him and holding his hand. "Yes, my child; we are going away." "Why are those men with torches running with us?" "You will see--you will see. Major von der Goltz, I hope those words I have just said to you will not be forgotten in the event----" "They shall be remembered," said the Major. Up to this all the company at the schloss had been hail-fellow-well-met one with the other. My father had addressed Von der Goltz as Franz, and the Major had been just as familiar in his manner, but all this was now changed. The two men were as stiff and formal as though they had never met before, one facing the other, bolt upright, and with heads somewhat averted, as I could see by the dancing torchlight; and in my childish heart I wondered at this. As we slowed up to pass the great gates of the avenue, I heard the wheels of the other carriage coming behind, and as we made the turning, I saw it, with the light of the torches glinting on the headpieces of the horses, and behind the carriage the plumes of the pine-trees showed against the moon, and they looked like the plumes of a hearse. The estate of Von Lichtenberg stretched for a mile and more beyond the gates; and it seems that it is not etiquette to kill a man on his own estate, no more than it is etiquette to strike a man in his own house.