"Oh, papa, what is the matter?" Hilda asked, in surprise. But her father did not seem to hear her; the longer he looked at Paul the more intense was the expression of terror upon his face and in his eyes; several seconds passed before he could so far control himself as to stammer in broken words, "What do you want of me?--How did you come here?--Who are you?" Delmar had, it is true, cherished no expectation of any particularly kind or courteous reception at the hands of "uncle monster," and the picture formed of him in his imagination had not been very flattering, but what he now saw and heard transcended his expectations: he had not believed in such a monster as this. Herr von Heydeck, once tall and handsome, was now a sickly, emaciated old man, his tall figure was bent, his withered features showed no trace of their former beauty, and were entirely wanting in the expression of dignified repose which makes an aged face attractive. The working of the lips, the protruding light-gray eyes the uncertain glance of which always avoided your own, made the spare wrinkled countenance positively ugly. Paul experienced actual repulsion at first sight of this old man, and the sensation was heightened by the strange broken questions addressed to him. It was not Delmar's habit to show much consideration towards those whom he disliked, and a sharp reply to the inhospitable queries was upon his lips, when his glance fell upon Hilda; he saw in her face the terror and surprise which her father's reception of him was causing her. Could he wound her? However ugly and unpleasant this old man might be, he was nevertheless the father of the lovely fairy, and Leo's uncle. In consideration of this he suppressed the angry retort upon his lips and replied quietly, "My name is Delmar; I am a friend of your nephew Leo, whom I have accompanied upon his journey to the Tyrol. I do not know what further particulars I can give you with regard to myself at present, Herr von Heydeck." The old man did not hear his last words, the name alone riveted his attention. "Delmar! Paul Delmar!" he muttered to himself "I knew it must be he! What do you want of me?" he continued, aloud. "I must know what you want. Do not imagine that I am afraid of you! It was only the first shock of surprise; but I am not in the least afraid of you, not in the least. Speak! what do you want of me?" Paul listened with increasing astonishment to these unconnected, unmeaning words. Had the old man a sudden attack of insanity? It must be so, else how could he thus receive his nephew's friend? Such a reception was utterly inexplicable, and least of all could Paul conceive how Herr von Heydeck had got hold of the name Paul, which he had muttered to himself. He did not trouble himself, however, to ponder this, but, seeing Hilda's distress, resolved to cut short so disagreeable a scene.