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Updated: May 8, 2025
Perhaps it were better altogether to emulate the silence that was maintained then and afterward by the two comrades. But the sexton could not be bribed to entire secrecy, and it was a story he loved to tell, with details we gladly omit, of how Wensleben solemnly performed his task of how no doubt could any longer exist as to the cause of Hallberg's death.
"Hallberg!" he repeated again, in a calmer tone, "and was Wensleben a friend of his?" "His bosom friend from childhood. They were brought up together at the academy. Hallberg left it a year earlier than his friend." "Indeed!" said D'Effernay, scowling as he spoke, and working himself up into a passion.
He turned to the captain and said, in a tone of impatience, "M. de Wensleben must have a great deal of business with the rector: we have been here an immense time, and he does not seem inclined to make his appearance. "Oh, I dare say he will come soon. The matter cannot detain him long." "What on earth can he have to do here?" "Perhaps you would call it a mere fancy the enthusiasm of youth."
But the loud voices of the disputants had attracted Edward to the spot, and there he stood on D'Effernay's return; and by his side a venerable old man, who carried a large bunch of keys in his hand. "In heaven's name, what has happened?" cried Wensleben. "What are you about to do?" interposed the rector, in a tone of authority, though his countenance was expressive of horror.
From behind a piano-forte, at which she had been seated in a recess, rose a tall, slender female form, in a white dress of extreme simplicity. "My love," said D'Effernay, "I bring you a welcome guest, Lieutenant Wensleben, who is willing to purchase the estate."
Good night, Wensleben." They separated: Edward hurried to his room; his heart overflowed. Sorrow on the one hand, horror and even hatred on the other, agitated him by turns. It was long before he could sleep.
Indeed the desire of visiting Hallberg's grave, in order to place the ring in the coffin, could alone reconcile Wensleben to the idea of remaining any longer beneath the roof of a man whom he now considered the murderer of his friend.
She was silent for a time, and gazed fixedly on the ground; then she looked up; the mist of unshed tears dimmed her blue eyes, and her bosom heaved with the sigh she could not suppress. "To me also the name of Wensleben is familiar. There is a link between our souls. Your friend has often spoken of you to me." But she could say no more; tears checked her speech.
"M. de Wensleben was good enough to excuse me," she replied; "and then I thought you would be back immediately." They sat down to the table; coffee was brought, and the past appeared to be forgotten. The conversation at first was broken by constant pauses. Edward saw that Emily did all she could to play the hostess agreeably, and to pacify her husband's ill-humor.
For a time both again were silent: at length Emily started up "Forgive me, M. de Wensleben. What you have related to me, what you have asked of me, has produced so much excitement, so much agitation, that it is necessary that I should be alone for a few moments, to recover my composure." "I am gone," cried Edward, springing from his chair. "No! no!" she replied, "you are my guest; remain here.
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