Leo was most desirous to hear the rest of the story, but he did not venture to interrupt the old man's gloomy reverie. He sat silent until, after a long pause, the colonel at last struck the floor violently with his cane, and, lifting his head, said, in a loud, harsh voice, "What good will thinking of it or regretting it do now? What is done is done, and there's no help for it. The grave will not give up its dead. My cowardly vagabond of a brother has burdened my soul with another's blood! I can see him now, the handsome young fellow, curveting over the field at a review, with his dolman fluttering gayly over his shoulder,--and then it's all changed: I see only his pale face as he lies dying with my bullet through his lungs. He forgave me; he knew I could not help it. I could not endure that a Heydeck should tamely suffer disgrace. With his dying breath he declared me a man of honour whom he greatly esteemed, and he died in my arms. "I can forgive Ferdinand everything but this, that he should have forced me to shoot down that fine young fellow and rob a poor mother of her only child! No, I can never, never forgive him! But enough of this; I did my duty then, and I will do it again, only I hope the bullet this time will not enter the youthful breast heaving with gay love of life, but bring rest to the weary old cripple." Leo would have interposed here, but his father gave him no opportunity, and continued,-- "Let us finish this once for all. Do not interrupt me. I was sentenced to one year's imprisonment. As soon as I was free again I hastened to my father's death-bed. He gave me his blessing, and left his curse for his unworthy son, whom he would have disinherited had he possessed anything in the world save his honourable name. For a long time I heard nothing of Ferdinand. After my father's death a letter arrived from him; I never broke the seal, but returned it to him with, 'Unopened. Hans von Heydeck,' written on the envelope. The letter bore the official stamp of a Hungarian town. Some years afterwards a friend who had been travelling in Hungary told me that he had met Ferdinand in Pesth; that he was living there as tutor with a wealthy Hungarian noble; and after several more years I learned that he had purchased large estates in the Tyrol,--having become a very wealthy man by his marriage with a rich tradesman's heiress; that his wife had died about a year after her marriage in giving birth to a son, who had not long survived his mother. Ferdinand, therefore, was the sole possessor of great wealth, which, however, he did not seem to enjoy, as he lived the life of a hermit in his lonely castle, which he left only for a few weeks in the year, when his shattered health made a sojourn at one of the baths desirable.