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Updated: June 24, 2025
One day in the autumn, a few weeks after he had bought Ben Frady's farm, von Rittenheim had taken his gun, and had whistled to heel one of the hounds that had preferred to stay in his old home with an unknown master rather than endure the precarious temper of the known quantity, and had climbed Buzzard, the mountain behind his cabin, in search of squirrel or quail.
"I could not bear to live at the Schloss any longer there were horrible memories, and I was alone; I told you my aunt had died. You know she was my only relative." Von Rittenheim knew. It was at her aunt's house in Heidelberg that he had met Hilda. "Then Maximilian had told me that we could not live in the Schloss if you did not supply the money to carry it on.
"Yes, dear Frau Carroll," said Hilda, in answer to a question. "Indeed, have I much to talk with him. He comes this evening to see me. I have much to tell him and to hear from him." Over her cup she glanced shrewdly at Sydney, who was enraged to feel herself blushing. When Baron von Rittenheim appeared in the evening, Sydney and the Schuylers and John were just starting for the Hugers' dance.
Like a fiend he sprang from his lair and rushed at von Rittenheim, as if from the very bowels of the rock. His face glared, malignant, in the unsteady light. "So you did squeal on me, you damned German!" he yelled. "Take that and that and that." He fired three times full at von Rittenheim's face.
She smiled at him generously and with perfect sympathy. Her white dress shone cool against the purple sky, and her face rose radiant above. Von Rittenheim leaned over her as she sat on the bridge's railing. On the road, not far away Susy McRae's guitar betrayed her approach, and John Wendell's barytone hummed the air that she was picking.
"You understood what he said?" "Perfectly. It seemed to be the end of a long argument. He cried, 'Hilda, will you or will you not give up von Hillern?" "And she said?" "'I have told you repeatedly, Max, that I will not. Then he seemed to go wild, and cried, 'Give him up! Give him up!" Von Rittenheim paled. He never moved his eyes from his friend's face.
When the struggle was over, Sydney left the old doctor and his wife kneeling side by side at the edge of the bed, and crept down-stairs. Von Rittenheim was sitting before the fire, his head buried in his hands. He sprang to meet her as she entered. "Is he ? Has he ?" The girl nodded. "Just now." Suddenly she threw her arms over her head and broke into stifled sobs.
I tell you he loved her with the most unselfish devotion. It was his dearest wish to live a life so correct that she might be proud of him. You couldn't expect more than that, could you?" "Not from Maximilian," admitted von Rittenheim. "Perhaps the very intensity of his love may have made him exacting towards her?"
"A feller always does when he wants to get married, 'n hit's clear what yo' after with Miss Sydney." Like bolts from heaven, two blows fell upon him simultaneously, and von Rittenheim and Bob faced each other over his fallen body. "Leave him alone," said Bob, hoarsely. "He'll sleep it off." Then he strolled over to his father.
You gain what I lose and the close season for moonshiners is coming on, now that the corn is ripe." Hilda, who did not understand a word he said, laughed softly, as if in amusement at his wit. Von Rittenheim, who had not been able to follow the colloquialisms, frowned at "moonshining," which rang out for his ears above all else. Sydney and Bob looked with horror at the sneering face before them.
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