"As you like it," said the baron. "Welcome the coming and speed the parting guest! I have a great mind to accompany you some distance. Are you fond of riding?"

"Rather so."

"Then we'll go on horseback, if you like it I will take one of my servants. Excuse me a moment--I must change my dress and give a few orders."

"You sit your horse very well, doctor," said the baron, as they were slowly riding along on the height of the bluff a quarter of an hour later. "It is really remarkable what talents you have in these things.

I believe there is no branch of bodily skill in which you would not quickly become a master."

"It is all the more remarkable, because my plebeian descent and my modest education do not ent.i.tle me to any of these aristocratic gifts."

"What a pity my name is not Cloten," said the baron.

"Why?"

"Because then I would not suspect your irony in the most remote way, and, on the contrary, be moved by your touching modesty to overcome an antipathy amounting almost to hatred."

"Is that Baron Cloten's sentiment towards me?"

"Do you think any dandy likes to see another man surpa.s.s him in pistol-shooting, dancing, courting, etc., if that is the pride of his little soul? Women and weak men never forgive that superiority. I amused myself royally that night at Barnewitz to watch the faces they were making at you, of course behind your back, and unfortunately enjoyed the malicious pleasure of doing everything to fan the flame of their jealousy."

"Why unfortunately? I a.s.sure you I mind very little whether these gentlemen think well of me or not."

"Oh, no doubt you do. But as long as you live in this neighborhood you are compelled to meet these people, and it is a rule of the simplest wisdom of the world not to offend your fellow-pa.s.sengers by treading on their corns.--Who on earth comes racing over there across the fields?"

This exclamation was caused by the mysterious horseman whom Oswald had noticed at his arrival, and who was now trotting across the heath so as to reach the road at a distance of perhaps six hundred yards ahead of them.

Oswald told the baron his experience with the horseman.

"We must find that out," said the baron; "let us trot."

They had scarcely trotted a few yards when the man before them started his horse also. It looked as if he were stealthily turning round now and then, but as the twilight had come on it was not easy to be quite sure of that.

"Let us try a gallop," said Oswald; "I see the mysterious man is repeating his man[oe]uvres of the afternoon."

They were on a wide level plain, which sloped off gradually towards the fishermen's village, following the stony and less level ground on which Oldenburg's villa was built. The soil was nothing but a thin crust of earth, covered with meagre heather, and spread directly over the rock itself, so that the horses going faster and faster beat hard upon the stony subsoil.

The mysterious man had no sooner heard the sound of their hoofs than he had followed their example; he was now galloping before his pursuers, keeping exactly the same distance.

"Stern chase is a long chase!" said Oldenburg, who seemed to take pleasure in the matter. "That fellow must have a capital horse. Just look how he flies, scarcely touching the ground! Don't you know, Charles, who that can be?"

"No, sir," said the groom, who was now riding in a line with the two gentlemen. "It cannot be anybody from the neighborhood, or we would have overtaken him long since."

"Charles flatters himself with the idea, you see, that he commands the best and the fastest horses far and near," observed the baron.

"He won't stand it long, sir!" said Charles.

"We must see that," replied the baron.

"Suppose we make an end of the matter by giving the reins to our horses," said Oswald, a few minutes later. "We shall then soon see whether we can overtake him or not."

"Very well," said Oldenburg, "_en avant!_"

The three riders gave the reins to their horses. The n.o.ble animals, delighting in their freedom, and as if they knew that their reputation as the best racers in the whole neighborhood was being tested, rushed along with maddening speed, first breast to breast, till Oldenburg's black horse took the lead and maintained it in spite of all efforts on the part of the other two horses.

The mysterious man had allowed his pursuers to approach him to within about four hundred yards. They thought already the chase was over and the groom had saved his own honor and that of his horses, when suddenly the man before them gave the spur to his thoroughbred, and, bending his head low down upon the mane of the animal, shot off with a speed which soon made even the incensed groom aware that it was useless to try to overtake him.

"I believe it is the devil himself," he said, through his teeth.

Oldenburg laughed. "So do I," he said. "Let us give it up."

It took some time before the excited horses could calm down again. The mysterious man was still riding at full speed, and in a few moments he had disappeared in the lane which led down to the fishermen's village.

Half an hour afterwards they reached the gates of Grenwitz. Oswald got off his horse and gave the reins to the groom, to shake hands with the baron.

"If you were not too much bored," said the latter, "I hope we may repeat the experiment soon again. Good-by!"

Oswald reached his room without having met a soul in the quiet courtyard or in the silent house. As he was leaning out of the open window and looked down into the darkening garden, he saw two persons walking up and down in the avenue, whispering and laughing. They were Albert and Marguerite. They had evidently improved the good opportunity to advance in their conjugation of _aimer_.

CHAPTER X.

"DEAR SIR! To succeed in all undertakings equally well is not given to any one, not even to the most favored knight. You will therefore, it is hoped, understand why a person, who has watched with much astonishment the process you have made in the favor of a certain lady, is anxious to become personally acquainted with the magic charm you possess, and therefore desires to see you. If you are disposed to afford him this pleasure, you are requested to take a walk this evening, at eleven o'clock, near the smaller Grenwitz gate. Under the old beech-tree on the road to Berkow you will, if you consent, find a carriage to convey you to the place of rendezvous. There you will find everything required to begin a more intimate acquaintance.

"It need hardly be mentioned, that, of course, an affair of so much delicacy has to be treated with the utmost secrecy. The coachman will ask you '_Qui vive_,' and if you answer '_Moi_,' he will know that you are the right person. _Au revoir, monsieur!_"

This was the text of a letter which the mail-carrier from the neighboring town handed Oswald on the evening of the next day.

He read the odd note several times before he could recover from his surprise. Who was the "person" who wished to make his personal acquaintance? What "lady" was meant? Had the mystery of the forest chapel fallen into indiscreet hands? Could Baron Cloten be the author of the challenge? The peculiar, cool manner of the young n.o.bleman at their last meeting favored this presumption. Or was the meeting accidental, and the mysterious rider the real writer? Was he, perhaps, one of Cloten's spies? On the other hand, was not the conversation which Baron Barnewitz had had with Oldenburg, and which Oswald had heard as an unwilling listener, sufficient evidence that Cloten had quite enough to do with his own difficulties?

Oswald pa.s.sed in his mind all the young n.o.bles in review whose acquaintance he had made at the ball, and his suspicion was finally fixed upon young Count Grieben, that tall blonde youth who made such amusing efforts to be brilliant, and to win favor with the coquettish Emily--efforts in which he failed with equal success. He seemed to be most likely to be the author of some of the phrases in the letter.

What was he to do? Should he expose himself to the perhaps very ign.o.ble vengeance of the young n.o.blemen? Should he enter the lists without knowing anything of the weapons, the witnesses, the place, or even his adversaries? Could any fair-minded man blame him if he took no notice of the challenge of an anonymous writer?

But he probably had not to deal with fair-minded men. Had he not already found out, and seen it proved by his experience, that in these privileged circles the pleasure of the individual stood for right, and the most frivolous whim of the moment served as a motive for action?

Had he not found this to be so even in the two characters which were so far above the common ma.s.s, in Melitta and Oldenburg?

And would they not charge him, if he declined the challenge, with want of that delicate sense of honor of which these n.o.bles were so proudly boasting?

No, no; he must take up the gauntlet, however contemptible the hand might be that had thrown it down in the dark. He must show these young n.o.blemen that he was not afraid to meet their revenge alone, friendless, and unarmed.

His blood was boiling. He walked up and down in his room in great excitement.

"Come on! Come on!" he hissed through his teeth. "I wish they would place themselves one by one opposite to me; my hatred would give me strength to overthrow them all. Quite right! Quite right! What have I to do here among these wolves? To be torn or to tear. I ought to have foreseen that."