had recognized them both
distinctly.

Eric had risen from his seat to question the man further, when he was
summoned to the telegraph station. The despatch, which was signed, like
the first, "the man from Eden," was to the effect that the writer was
to sail the next morning for the New World, and that if, in the course
of a year, no further tidings were received from him, he might be
considered dead. It almost seemed as if the last part of the telegram
could not have been correctly written; for the question was asked,
whether Frau Ceres was living, and in what condition. In case of
wishing to send any news of her to the New World, the name of a
Southern paper was given, in which a paragraph should be inserted over
the initials S. B.

While Eric was still holding the despatch in his hand, Pranken entered,
and signed to him to come into an adjoining room. "I was in search of
you," he said. He looked pale and agitated, and Eric was fully prepared
to receive a challenge. His first question, however, was, whether Eric
knew whither Sonnenkamp had fled, and how he could be addressed. Eric
replied that he was not at liberty to answer that question.

"Ask him then whether"--he could hardly bring his lips to utter what he
had to say,--"ask him whether there is anyone with him. No, better
still, give me his address."

Eric repeated that he was not at liberty to do so. Pranken gnashed his
teeth with rage.

"Very well: ask him yourself, then, whether any one is with him about
whom I have a right to inquire."

As the two stood side by side, looking out upon the landscape, it
suddenly flashed through Eric's mind, that in this very room, at a
table before this window, they had sat together that day over their new
wine. Prompted by the feeling of gratitude that overpowered him, he
said,--

"I regret sincerely that there should be such ill feeling between us."

"This is no time to speak of that--of that presently. If you will--no,
I will ask no favors. You are to blame for all this wretched
complication: you have made every one go wrong. This would never have
happened but for you."

A cold shudder passed through Eric's frame. Was he in truth to blame
for Bella's fall? There was an expression of humility in his face as he
answered,--

"I am at your service; I am only waiting for a despatch."

"Good: I will wait with you."

Pranken left the room, and walked restlessly up and down the embankment
without, until the despatch