"
The two stood back from each other, but with arms still entwined.
"Perhaps, Hans, I did not watch you closely enough in those days."
"And what has become of the principal cause?"
"The cause?"
"Tekla."
"Bah! She is fat and homely and the mother of seven squalling children."
"What a world! To think that Tekla should be at the bottom of all this
tangle! What irony! I ruin my life, I break the heart of the grand duke,
I nearly cause war between two friendly states--why? Tekla, now fat and
homely and the mother of seven, would not marry me. The devil rides
strange horses."
"Good night, Hans."
"Good night, Hermann, and God bless you for your forgiveness. Always
come at night if you wish to see me, but do not come often; they might
remark it."
A rap on the door startled them. Hans, a finger of warning on his lips,
opened the door. Carmichael stood outside.
"Ah, Captain!" Hans took Carmichael by the hand and drew him into the
room.
Carmichael, observing Hermann, was rather confused as to what to do.
"Good evening, Hermann," he said.
"Good evening, Herr Carmichael."
Hermann passed into the hail and softly closed the door after him. It
was better that the American should not see the emotion which still
illumined his face.
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