ldn't be so clumsy as to do that. There are other ways in
which the trick could be done, and I shall manage to let nobody
suspect me as the author of the tale. But he will have to pay for
this, you can take my word for that. D---- the ugly face of him,
anyway!"
Both became silent once more, and a few minutes later Leimann took his
leave, since he had to attend to several minor engagements in town
before the dinner hour.
Nor did Borgert remain much longer at home. He went to the Casino and
drowned his bad humor in a bottle of Heidsieck.
When Borgert awoke, a couple of days later, from a night's troubled
sleep, he noticed with concern that he had overslept himself and
missed his earlier duties. He rang the bell for his servant, but Roese
did not appear, not even on a second summons.
Borgert dressed and went to Roese's room. He found it unoccupied. The
bed was untouched, and on top of it lay the uniform and the cap of the
man.
With astonishment the officer looked about him; the sticky,
unventilated atmosphere of the little chamber, and a strong odor of
soiled linen and worn-out clothes, was all that he noticed. Where
could Roese have gone so early in the day, and that, too, without
leave, even without a word to him? Had he been summoned to some
unexpected duty? But no, that was impossible, for here lay his
regimentals.
Borgert had already crossed over to the threshold to leave the room
again when his eye lighted on a much-stained slip of paper on the
table. He picked it up and his face paled while he read, for in the
man's scrawling handwriting there were the words:
"Farewell! And go to the devil!"
As if petrified, Borgert stared at the paper. The fellow, then, had
deserted!
About his reasons for the step Borgert was not in doubt a minute, and
a sudden feeling of shame and disquiet seized him at the thought that
the man might be apprehended. In that case everything would come to
light: the bad usage to which he had been subjected, the maltreatment
which he had met at his hands, and, worst of all, all those big or
little secrets of which he had become aware during his service with
his master.
Too unpleasant! Borgert stepped again over to his room and sat down on
the edge of the bed. His face was not pleasant to look at, and a
nervous twitching of his features showed how much he dreaded an
unlucky turn of affairs in case the fugitive should be caught and then
blab out all he knew.
It seemed to him
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