will not be able to refuse her that, if she demands it
peremptorily."

The Major stopped suddenly, and his voice was full of undisguised
contempt as he answered:

"She will not venture to do that after all that has happened. Zalika
learned to know me in the hour of our separation; she'll be cautious
about driving me to extremes a second time."

"But perhaps she will seek to accomplish secretly what you have openly
refused."

"That is impossible; the discipline of our institution is so severe
there could be no intercourse here of which I should not learn at once."

Wallmoden did not seem to share his friend's confidence. He shook his
head doubtfully.

"To speak openly, I regard it as a great mistake that you are
obstinately silent toward your son concerning his mother and the fact
that she is living. When he learns it from some other source, what then?
And sometime you must tell him."

"Perhaps, in a couple of years, when he'll have to enter the world. Now
he's only a student, a half-grown boy, and I cannot disclose to him the
drama which was once played in his father's house--I cannot."

"So be it. You know the woman who was once your wife, and know what to
expect from her. I fear there is nothing impossible for this woman to
accomplish."

"Ah, I know her," said Falkenried with intense bitterness, "and because
I know her I will protect my son from her at any price. He shall not
breath the poisonous breath of her presence; no, not even for an hour. I
do not under estimate the danger from Zalika's return, but as long as
Hartmut remains at my side he is safe from her, for she will never come
near me, I give you my word for that."

"We will hope so," answered Wallmoden, as he rose and reached out his
hand at parting. "But do not forget that the greatest danger with which
you have to contend lies in Hartmut himself; he is in every trait the
son of his mother. You are coming over to Burgsdorf with him day after
to-morrow, I hear?"

"Yes, he is to spend his short autumn vacation with Willibald. I shall
be able to remain a day only, but I'll surely come for that time.
Good-bye."

The secretary left the house, and Falkenried returned once more to the
window, but he only gave a fleeting glance after his friend, who waved
him a parting greeting, then returned gloomily to his own thoughts.

"The son of his mother." The words rang in his ears, but the thought was
not new to him; he had known it a long time, and it