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Updated: May 24, 2025
Carl crossed his knees uneasily and lighted a cigarette, glancing occasionally at his friend. Just how deeply this would cut him he had no means of knowing. At last von Rittenheim, looking worn but not unhappy, lifted his head. He rose and walked to the edge of the veranda, and stretched himself as if to shake off some trammel of thought.
A great wall seemed to von Rittenheim to spring up between them, a wall made thick by his folly, and high by his disgrace, and strong by his weakness. "Though I am shameful to say such things as if they were excuses, nothing excuses me. I am without justification. I say so most humbly to you." Weakly he leaned back among his cushions. Mrs. Carroll glanced at him and hurried on.
A huge fellow, isn't he?" "And fear you not that Miss Sydney should ride those so wild colts?" "Not now. I used to be frightened to death, but I've seen her and Bob down there doing that for so many years that I've learned not to be afraid. She rides really very well, you know, and Bob is careful of her." "He would be." Von Rittenheim sighed, and leaned back with closed eyes.
The course of affairs in Asheville was brief. Wilder rode beside his prisoner when they came to the town, not because he feared Friedrich's escape, but that he might have the appearance of being in command of the troop. Von Rittenheim was too closely absorbed in his own painful thoughts to pay any attention to this enforced companionship.
It is not fitting that a von Rittenheim should live in a cabin like that." "Man makes the house, Hilda, and I don't feel that my dignity is hurt. I am comfortable, and that is all that is necessary." He happened to think of this conversation as he drank the last of his coffee, and he realized that Hilda's offer was another of the tiny threads that linked him to her.
Von Rittenheim, sitting before the fire with Wallenstein's Lager on his knee, but with eyes bent upon the flames that burst with tiny explosions from the logs, and with mind wandering far from thoughts of Schiller, von Rittenheim was waiting with what patience he could command for Bud's return. With the falling of the wind at dusk the rain ceased.
As he talked to them the music stopped abruptly, and with its last note he found himself alone, for the youths about him had precipitated themselves into the room to secure their partners for the next cotillon. The enterprising Hamp came in through the window, by which port of entry the orchestra departed in search of the reviving pail on the back porch. Melissa came timidly to von Rittenheim.
I'll take the weapons along with me, and you can examine them when you get there. I don't want any second. "Yours truly, Von Rittenheim puzzled over the English of this document, and nodded his head in satisfaction. "At last he performs his duty. Buck Mountain I know. It is a distant spot, ten miles from here. He is strange not to say what are the weapons; but what can you expect?"
And she thought how happy she was herself, and resolved to be as kind as she knew how to be to the new-comer. Sydney had a strong reluctance to face emotional or spiritual crises, and not even after her conversation on the bridge did she acknowledge to herself that von Rittenheim loved her, or that she cared for him.
"No knowing what these cussed foreigners won't do," growled Wilder, and added something about being blown up before his prisoner, that brought a frown to Mr. Weaver's brow. He was puzzled about von Rittenheim, and he felt sure that there was something in the case that was not in evidence; but the man had pleaded guilty, and there was nothing to do but to hold him for the Grand Jury.
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