from the issue; to have re-found not
only my missing money, but to have my suspicions relieved as to those
whose honest name was dear to me, and whose discredit would have
darkened many a bright hope of life,--these were no small successes; and
yet--I shame to own it--my delight in them was dashed by an incident so
small and insignificant that I have scarce courage to recall it. Here
it is, however: While I was taking a kindly farewell of my military
friends, hand-shaking and protesting interminable friendships, I saw, or
thought I saw, the Prince, with even a more affectionate warmth, making
his adieus to Tintefleck! If he had not his arm actually round her
waist, there was certainly a white leather cavalry glove curiously
attached to her side, and one of her cheeks was deeper colored than the
other, and her bearing and manner seemed confused so that she answered,
when spoken to, at cross-purposes.

"How did you come by this brooch, Tintefleck? I never saw it before."

"Oh, is it not pretty? It is a violet; and these leaves, though green,
are all gold."

"Answer me, girl! who gave it thee?" said I, in the voice of Othello.

"Must I tell?" murmured she, sorrowfully.

"On the spot,--confess it!"

"It was one who bade me keep it till he should bring me a prettier one."

"I do not care for what he said, or what you promised. I want his
name.'*

"And that I was never to forget him till then,--never."

"Do you say this to irritate and offend me, or do you prevaricate out of
shame?" said, I angrily.

"Shame!" repeated she, haughtily.

"Ay, shame or fear."

"Or fear! Fear of what, or of whom?"

"You are very daring to ask me. And now, for the last time,
Tintefleck,--for the last time, I say, who gave you this?"

As I said these words we had just reached the borders of a little
rivulet, over which we were to cross by stepping-stones. Vaterchen was,
as usual, some distance behind, and now calling to us to wait for him.
She turned at his cry, and answered him, but made no reply to me.

This continued defiance of me overcame my temper altogether, sorely
pushed as it was by a stupid jealousy, and, seizing her wrist with a
strong grasp, I said, in a slow, measured tone, "I insist upon your
answer to my question, or--"

"Or what?"

"That we part here, and forever."

"With all my heart. Only remember one thing," said she, in a low,
whispering voice: "you left me once before,--you quitted me, in a moment
of temp