"And did I not love him?" said Hermann fiercely. "Did I not worship that boy, who was to me more like a son than a brother? Had not all the brothers and sisters died but he? But you--who are you to recall these things?"
"I knew your brother; I knew him well. He was not a scoundrel; only weak. He went to America and became successful in business. He fought with the North in the war. He was not a coward; he did his fighting bravely and honorably."
"Oh, no; Hans could never, have been a coward; even his villainy required courage. But go on."
"He died facing the enemy, and his last words were of you. He begged your forgiveness; he implored that you forget that black moment. He was young, he said; and they offered him a thousand crowns. In a moment of despair he fell."
"Despair? Did he confess to you the crime he committed?"
"Yes."
"Did he tell you to whom he sold his honor?"
"That he never knew. A Gipsy from the hills came to him, so he said.
"From Jugendheit?"
"I say that he knew nothing. He believed that the Gipsy wanted her highness to hold for ransom. Hans spoke of a girl called Tekla."
"Tekla? Ah, yes; Hans was in love with that doll-face."
"Doll-face or not, Hans evidently loved her. She jilted him, and he did not care then what happened. His one desire was to leave Dreiberg. And this Gipsy brought the means and the opportunity."
"Not Jugendheit?"
"Who knows? Hans followed the band of Gipsies into the mountains. The real horror of his act did not come home to him till then. Ah, the remorse! But it was too late. They dressed the little one in rags. But when I ran away from them I took her little shoes and cloak and locket."
Hermann was on his feet!
Grumbach relighted his cigar which had gone out. The smoke wavered about his face and slowly ascended. His eyes were as bright and glowing as coals. He waited. He had made the slip without premeditation; but what was done was done. So he waited.
Hermann dropped his hands on the table and leaned forward.
"Is it you, Hans, and I did not know you?"
"It is I, brother."
"My God!" Hermann sank down weakly. The ceiling spun and the gaslight separated itself into a hundred flames. "You said he was dead!"
"So I am, to the world, to you, and to all who knew me," quietly.
"Why have you returned?"
Hans shrugged. "I don't know. Perhaps I am a fool; perhaps I am willing to pay the penalty of my crime. At least that was uppermost in my mind till I learned that her highness had been found."