Bertram had his voice and countenance under perfect control, and was moreover, as we have said, an excellent actor. His simulated indignation would have deceived a much keener observer than honest Count Waldheim, and it produced the effect he had intended. Waldheim felt ashamed of his hasty judgment; he acknowledged that he had sinned against friendship for a comrade, and, in his regret for having done so, he consented to do as Bertram requested, which in any other case he would hardly have done. He promised to find Heydeck, and either to bring him to Büchner's or to return to Bertram with the intelligence that he might expect a challenge. With a pressure of the hand, which the Count returned but half cordially, Bertram bade him farewell, and took a long and roundabout way to Büchner's, where the momentous interview was to take place. When he reached the restaurant most of the tables beneath the awning were already occupied by the officers of the various regiments in garrison at K----. Many of those present had been witnesses of the morning's occurrence, and all were perfectly informed of what had taken place. The affair had made a great stir among the corps of officers, as Bertram could plainly see by the gloomy looks with which he was regarded by his comrades, some of whom took evident pains to avoid seeing him, that they might not be forced to return his salute. His self-satisfied mood was somewhat impaired by the annoyance that the evident avoidance of his comrades caused him. He would have liked to turn away and leave the restaurant, but he had promised to wait for Count Waldheim and Heydeck. He looked round to find a seat. If any table had been quite unoccupied he would have seated himself at it; but there was not one such to be found,--a few single seats were empty, and towards one of these he made his way. It was at a corner table, and two of the officers of his own regiment, and his personal acquaintances, were already seated at it. He approached, and, nodding with his usual easy familiarity, he asked, without noticing the icy acknowledgment of his greeting,-- "Is this chair taken?" "No," was the reply, "nor the table either; we are just going." And the two men arose and with a brief salutation left the table, although their coffee-cups were scarcely half emptied. That they left simply to avoid Bertram's society was evident, since they stopped near another table, and, entering into conversation with some acquaintances, ordered a waiter to bring chairs. Thus they did not leave the place, but took their seats at another table.