s. Well had it been, if I alone
had witnessed this, but there was another at my side who saw it also,
and whispered in my ear, 'Der Zahme is in love.' I turned round--it was
Eisendecker: his face, sallow and sickly, while large circles of dark
olive surrounded his eyes, and gave him an air of deep suffering. 'Did
you see that?' said he suddenly, as he leaned his hand on my arm, where
it shook like one in ague.

'Did you see that?'

'What--the flower?'

'Yes, the flower. It was she dropped it, when she crossed the room. You
saw him take it up, didn't you?'

The tone he spoke in was harsh and hissing, as if he uttered the words
with his teeth clenched. It was clear to me now that he, too, was in
love with Frederica, and I trembled to think of the cruel shock their
friendship must sustain ere long.

A short time after, when I was about to retire, Eisendecker took my arm,
and said, 'Are you for going home? May I go with you?' I gave a willing
assent, our lodgings being near, and we spent much of every day in each
other's chambers. It was the first time we had ever returned without
waiting for Muehry; and fearing what a separation, once begun, might
lead to, I stopped suddenly on the stairs, and said, as if suddenly
remembering--'By-the-bye, we are going without Adolphe.'

Eisendecker's fingers clutched me convulsively, and while a bitter laugh
broke from him, he said, 'You wouldn't tear them asunder, would
you?' For the rest of the way he never spoke again, and I, fearful
of awakening the expression of that grief which, when avowed, became
confirmed, never opened my lips, save to say, 'Good-night.'

I never intended to have involved myself in a regular story when I began
this chapter, nor must I do so now, though, sooth to say, it would not
be without its interest to trace the career of these two youths, who
now became gradually estranged from each other, and were no longer to
be seen, as of old, walking with arms on each other's shoulder--the most
perfect realisation of true brotherly affection. Day by day the distance
widened between them; each knew the secret of the other's heart, yet
neither dared to speak of it. From distrust there is but a short step to
dislike--alas! it is scarcely even a step. They parted.

Every one knows that the reaction which takes place when some
long-standing friendship has been ruptured is proportionate to the
warmth of the previous attachment. Still the cause of this, in a great
me