there was not the usual
look of open satisfaction upon his face. He did not mention the subject
to me again, but I caught him looking now and then earnestly at Eugen,
as if he wished to ask him something. Then I knew that in my anxiety to
avoid gossiping about the friend whose secrets were sacred to me, I had
made a mistake. I ought to have made Karl tell me whether he had heard
anything specific about him or against him, and so judge the extent of
the mischief done.

It needed but little thought on my part to refer Karl's suspicions and
vague rumors to the agency of Anna Sartorius. Lately I had begun to
observe this young lady more closely. She was a tall, dark, plain girl,
with large, defiant-looking eyes, and a bitter mouth; when she smiled
there was nothing genial in the smile. When she spoke, her voice had a
certain harsh flavor; her laugh was hard and mocking--as if she laughed
at, not with, people. There was something rather striking in her
appearance, but little pleasing. She looked at odds with the world, or
with her lot in it, or with her present circumstances, or something. I
was satisfied that she knew something of Eugen, though, when I once
pointed her out to him and asked if he knew her, he looked at her, and
after a moment's look, as if he remembered, shook his head, saying:

"There is something a little familiar to me in her face, but I am sure
that I have never seen her--most assuredly never spoken to her."

Yet I had often seen her look at him long and earnestly, usually with a
certain peculiar smile, and with her head a little to one side as if she
examined some curiosity or _lusus naturae_. I was too little curious
myself to know Eugen's past to speculate much about it; but I was quite
sure that there was some link between him and that dark, bitter,
sarcastic-looking girl, Anna Sartorius.

CHAPTER XXXII.

"Didst thou, or didst thou not? Just tell me, friend!
Not that _my_ conscience may be satisfied,
_I_ never for a moment doubted thee--
But that I may have wherewithal in hand
To turn against them when they point at thee:
A whip to flog them with--a rock to crush--
Thy word--thy simple downright 'No, I did not.'

* * * * *

Why! How!
What's this? He does not, will not speak. Oh, God!
Nay, raise thy head and look me in the eyes!
Canst not? What is this thing?"

It was the last concert of the season, and the end of April, when
evenings were g