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"At this moment I ought to have been quiet at home in my own arm-chair, and Berbel, according to her praiseworthy custom, ought to be bringing me up upon a tray a cup of smoking hot coffee, while I am winding up my chapter upon the ancient armoury at Nideck. Instead of which, here I am floundering in holes, stumbling everywhere, and suppose I lost my way altogether and then broke my neck! There!
So far as she knew, his illness had been caused by the shock of his father's and mother's deaths, and it could not be foreseen whether a circumstance which must remind him so vividly of that catastrophe might not cause a return of the malady which had attacked his brain. Berbel wished she could consult some one and get good advice in the matter.
It not being the custom in Germany to baptize children as soon as they are born, and as the anniversary of the wedding was not far distant, it was agreed to choose that day for giving a name to the heir of Sigmundskron. 'Call him Greif, said the baroness, 'after his father. 'Call him Kraft, for his grandfather, said Berbel to Hilda, when they were alone. 'He has bright eyes, said Greif.
There was nothing remarkable about the outward look of the letter except, perhaps, the superscription, in which Wastei had detected something of old Greifenstein's roughness. But Berbel thought it quite natural that he should have addressed it simply, 'To my son Greif, as he had done.
'That is true, observed Berbel, watching him intently. 'A thing might lie a long time between the velvet and the lining of a coat in a Jew's shop, remarked Wastei presently. 'Very long. 'Long enough for people not to want it, when it is found. 'It depends on what it is. 'A ticket for a lottery, for instance, would not be of much use after a year or two.
She was left alone for a few minutes, while Frau von Sigmundskron went to tell Berbel that Greif was gone after all, and that there was no need to upset all the household arrangements. The fire was still burning brightly, though one of the logs had fallen into two pieces, making a great cave of coals and flames in the midst.
Her own father had been killed, too, before she could know him if she had known him, she would have loved him, as Greif had loved the old gentleman who was now dead. Hilda became aware that her reflexions were growing more and more heartless and that they did not help her at all, especially as she could not communicate them to Berbel.
It is a simple question. 'Very simple, Master Wastei, answered Berbel, stiffening her stiff neck a little. 'So simple that it is of no use to think about it, nor even to ask it. When do you want your coat back? 'I want a coat, but not that one whenever you please. But do not hurry yourself, for I shall not catch cold, and my sweetheart does not care whether I have one or not.
'I will take them to the baron myself, said Berbel. Wastei looked up as though he had supposed she was already gone in. 'Thank you, Frau Berbel, he answered. Five minutes later she returned, carrying a black bottle, a glass and something small shut in the palm of her hand. 'The baron thanks you and sends you this, she said, holding out a gold piece.
As she was about to leave the room a thought crossed her mind, and she stopped. 'Berbel, she said, 'my mother must never know that this has been found, or at least, you must never speak of it to her or to any one, and you must tell Wastei to hold his tongue. She has had sorrow enough in her life, and we need not add any more, now that she is so happy. 'Good, answered Berbel.
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