High up, quite at the edge of the outermost promontory on that coast and surrounded by the white foam of the ardent sea that longs to climb up to the cypresses and pines, the holm-oaks and the strawberry-trees, the many sweet-smelling roses, lies the garden of a rich marchese. The mother and her son were sitting there. They were looking in silence at the gigantic sun, which hung red, deep purple just above the sea that, quiet and devout, solemn and expectant in the holy conception of the light, shone with the splendid reflection of it. It was one of those hours, those marvellous rare hours in which even mute things become eloquent, when the hidden becomes revealed, the stones cry aloud. The woman felt quite startled as she gazed and gazed: oh, there it was, the same gigantic red sun that she had once seen disappear into the waves of the wild Venn. Alas, that that thought should come even now and torture her. She turned quickly and looked at Wolfgang with timid apprehension--if he should guess it. But he was sitting on a stone, taking no interest in his surroundings; he had crossed his legs and his eyes were half closed. Of what was he dreaming? She had to rouse him. "Isn't that splendid, grand, sublime?" "Oh yes." "It's setting--look how it's setting." Kate had jumped up from the ivy-clad pine-stump and was pointing at it. Her cheeks were flushed and she was full of enthusiasm at the sight of the purple sea, the radiant light that was disappearing in such splendour. The tears came to her eyes; they were dazzled. When she looked again it struck her that Wolfgang was very pale. "Are you cold?" A sudden coolness blew from the sea. "No. But I"--suddenly he opened his dark eyes wide and looked at her firmly--"I should like to know something about my mother. Now you can speak--I'm listening." "Of your--your"--she stammered, it came so unexpectedly. Alas, the sun, the Venn sun. She would have preferred to have been silent now; now she had not the courage she had had before. But he urged her. "Tell me." There was something imperious in his voice. "What is her name?--Where does she live?--Is she still alive?" Kate looked around with terrified eyes. "Is she still alive?"--she could not even answer that. Oh yes, yes, surely--of course--she was still alive. And she told him all. Told him how they had got him away from the Venn, had fled with him as though he had been stolen. As she told him it she turned pale and then red and then pale again--oh, what a passion he would fly into. How he would excite himself. And how angry he would be with her. For they had never troubled about his mother since they left the Venn, never again. She could not tell him any more. He did not ask any other questions. But he did not fly into a passion as she had feared; she need not have defended her action when he remained silent for some time, positively make excuses for it. He gave her a friendly glance and only said: "You meant well, I feel sure of that."