"God's will be done!" But Hermann's face turned lighter.
"As a boy he loved you."
"And did I not love him?" said Hermann fiercely. "Did I not worship that
boy, who was to me more like a son than a brother? Had not all the
brothers and sisters died but he? But you--who are you to recall these
things?"
"I knew your brother; I knew him well. He was not a scoundrel; only
weak. He went to America and became successful in business. He fought
with the North in the war. He was not a coward; he did his fighting
bravely and honorably."
"Oh, no; Hans could never, have been a coward; even his villainy
required courage. But go on."
"He died facing the enemy, and his last words were of you. He begged
your forgiveness; he implored that you forget that black moment. He was
young, he said; and they offered him a thousand crowns. In a moment of
despair he fell."
"Despair? Did he confess to you the crime he committed?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you to whom he sold his honor?"
"That he never knew. A Gipsy from the hills came to him, so he said.
"From Jugendheit?"
"I say that he knew nothing. He believed that the Gipsy wanted her
highness to hold for ransom. Hans spoke of a girl called Tekla."
"Tekla? Ah, yes; Hans was in love with that doll-face.
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