"That'll do," said the _wachtmeister_.

Hamm turned away briskly. The expression of his face and eyes showed that he considered the situation serious. Serious for Oberle, but equally serious for himself. Neither the captain nor the lieutenant was in barracks at the moment. If there was trouble the captain would not fail to ask why he had not been warned. Hamm crossed the courtyard, thinking over what he ought to do, and recalling a remark of the brigadier of Obernai. When Gottfried was at Obernai a fortnight before, he had said to him: "You are going to have Oberle's son in your regiment. Keep an eye on him. I shall be surprised if he does not create some disturbance. He is the counterpart of his grandfather, a madman who hates Germans, and who is quite capable of any folly."

But before taking zealous action it was necessary to know some details. This was easy: the rue des Balayeurs faced the gateway.

Hamm brushed his blue tunic with his hand, left the barracks, and made his way to a large house on the left with green shutters.

"Left in a cab, before midday, carrying a bag," was the answer Jean's landlady gave him.

"What address did he give?"

"Rue de la Mesange."

"Any number?"

"I don't know; anyway I heard none."

Hamm's suspicions became more definite. The _wachtmeister_ no longer hesitated. He hastened to the captain's quarters in the Herderstra.s.se.

The captain was out.

Disappointed and warm from his sharp walk, Hamm took a short cut to the barracks, through the University gardens. He suddenly remembered that close by in the rue Grandidier, lived Lieutenant Farnow. It is true the lieutenant did not belong to the 2nd squadron, but Hamm knew of his engagement. It had been talked of among the officers. He made his way to the superb stone house and mounted to the first floor.

"The lieutenant is dressing," replied the orderly to his question.

Von Farnow in shirt and trousers was dressing before paying certain calls, and going to the officers' casino. In trousers and shirt he was leaning over his toilet-table with its bevelled gla.s.s, washing his face. The room was perfumed with eau-de-cologne, brushes and manicure set were strewn round him. He turned as the door opened, his face all wet.

"What is the matter, Hamm?" he cried, seizing a towel.

"I took upon myself to call upon you, lieutenant, as the captain is not there, and Oberle----"

"Oberle? What has he done?" Farnow interrupted nervously.

"He has not put in an appearance since half-past eleven this morning."

Farnow, who was drying his face, threw down the towel violently on the table, and approached the non-commissioned officer. He remembered Madame Oberle's fears. "He thinks as I do," thought Hamm.

"Has not come back? Have you been to the rue des Balayeurs?"

"Yes, lieutenant; he left the house in a cab at ten minutes to twelve."

The young lieutenant felt as though death's icy hand was on his heart. He closed his eyes for a moment, and with a violent effort regained his composure.

"There is only one thing to do, Hamm," he said. He was deadly pale, but not a muscle of his face quivered. "You must warn your captain, and he will do what is prescribed in such cases."

Farnow turned calmly, and looked at the ornamental clock on his desk.

"One-forty--you must be quick."

The _wachtmeister_ saluted and withdrew.

The lieutenant ran to the adjoining study, and asked to be connected with the Strasburg station. Ten minutes later the telephone bell rang, and he learnt that a volunteer of the 9th Hussars, in uniform, had reached the station at the last moment with a valise portmanteau and taken a first-cla.s.s ticket to Russ-Hersbach.

"It's impossible," exclaimed Farnow, throwing himself on to the sofa; "there must be some mistake Russ-Hersbach is almost on the frontier. Jean would not desert--he is in love; he must be at Alsheim--he must at least have wanted to see Odile again. I must find out."

"Hermann," he called, rapping with his knuckles on the mahogany table.

The orderly, a stolid German, opened the door.

"Saddle my horse and yours immediately."

Farnow was soon ready; he hastened downstairs, found the horses waiting, crossed Strasburg, and once past the fortifications, spurred his horse to a sharp trot.

As he neared Alsheim, Jean's desertion seemed to him more credible.

Every detail of his conversation with Madame Oberle came back to him, and other reasons as well for believing the calamity against which his imperious will was fighting desperately. "He does not understand Germany; he was glorying in it at Councillor Brausig's.

And then his disunited family--a disunion increased by my engagement. But then he is himself engaged, or almost; and characters like his, French characters, must be dominated by love.

No; I shall find him there--or have news of him."

It was warm; the long dusty road stretched from village to village, without shade, a thin line between the fields, now bare of their crops. The sky hung over them like bra.s.s, on the horizon banks of motionless clouds rose above the Vosges, throwing out rays of light.

The horses, covered with sweat, continued to gallop. Under the scattered walnut-trees, among the stubble, children raised their switches and shouted as the riders pa.s.sed them.

"Is the lieutenant crazy?" thought Hermann; "he is going faster and faster."

Farnow's anguish increased as he drew nearer his destination. "If I do not find him," he murmured, "supposing he has----"

Obernai was pa.s.sed on the right. A sign-post at the cross roads pointed to Alsheim, and soon the blue roof of the Oberles' house appeared among the green.

"Lucienne, Lucienne, Lucienne!"

The house seemed to slumber in the heavy heat of the autumn day, the silence being broken only by a feeble, monotonous voice. Seated near grandfather Oberle's chair, in the room which the invalid could never hope to leave, Madame Oberle was reading aloud the _Journal d'Alsace_, which the postman had just delivered.

Through the open window her voice could be heard murmuring as though engaged in the rhythmic recital of the rosary. In the billiard-room above, that which was still called Jean's room, M. Joseph Oberle was dozing behind the curtain, on his knees lay several letters, and a copy of the _Strasburger Post_. At the end of the room Lucienne could be seen writing at a Louis XVI. desk.

"Monsieur? Monsieur Oberle?"

Joseph Oberle jumped up and threw open the door, which was ajar, meeting the concierge running towards him.

"Why do you call me; you know I don't like----"

He remained speaking with the man for a minute, and returned smiling.

"My Lucienne, Herr von Farnow is waiting for you at the park gate."

She rose, blushing.

"Why doesn't he come in?"

"It appears that he is on horseback, and in a great hurry. Perhaps he dares not. Go and fetch him, my darling; tell him from me that there shall be no disturbance, that I will prevent any further scenes."

With a gesture he implied that he would bolt all the doors sooner, especially that of the room whence came the monotonous voice reading the paper.