"Go and get them, then!" he said, roughly; and, turning his back upon her, he left the room.
"Upon my word, the fellow does me credit to-day! Only wait until I get him home," muttered Wolfram, with suppressed rage, as he followed the lad.
Hertha was left alone; she stood motionless, looking wide-eyed after the pair, but in another instant she bethought herself and ran hastily to the fireplace. The flickering flame was devouring its prey; the delicate white blossoms glowed red for an instant like fairy flowers, and then curled up and sank to ashes.
The little girl folded her hands and looked on, her face still angry and defiant, but gradually her eyes filled with tears, and when the last of the flowers had perished in its fiery bed, she suddenly burst into loud sobs.
When Count Steinrück, after a few minutes, returned to his study, he found no one there. A glance at the clock showed him that it was time he were gone, and he hurriedly went to the writing-table to get the order that was to complete his uniform. The case was still where he had left it, but it was empty; probably the servant had seen what was wrong with the ribbon and had taken it away to arrange it. Steinrück rang the bell. "My order," he said, hurriedly, to the man who appeared in answer to the ring. "Is the carriage there?"
"Yes, Herr Count; but the order,--it is usually in the Herr Count's own possession."
"Of course; I took it out to-day,--the large star of diamonds. Did you not observe that the ribbon was loose?"
The servant shook his head. "I did not see the star. I was only in the room a moment to receive the Herr Count's order about the carriage."
Steinrück looked in extreme astonishment at the empty case. "Have you not been in the room since?"
"No, Herr Count."
"Has no one else been here?"
"The forester's son was here when I left the room, and, I think, was here alone for some time."
There was suspicion more than hinted at in these words, but the Count shook his head decidedly. "Nonsense! that's impossible. Has no one else been here? Bethink yourself."
"No, Herr Count; no one has even been in the corridor."
"But the bedroom on that side,--it is a thoroughfare."
"Only from the sleeping apartment of the Frau Countess by the tapestried door."
Steinrück turned pale, and involuntarily he clinched his hand, but he still combated the dawning suspicion. "Look for it," he said. "The star must be found; perhaps I mislaid it among the books and papers."
And without waiting for the man's assistance he began to look for the jewel himself. He knew perfectly well that he had laid the star in the case, which he had left open; nevertheless, he lifted every book and paper, and searched every drawer, but to no purpose the thing was not to be found.
"It is not here," the servant said at last, in a low tone. "If it was lying here in the open case, there is but one explanation."
Steinrück made no reply. He himself doubted no longer. "A thief, then! A common thief!" The measure of his contempt and aversion was filled to the brim.
There was silence for a few minutes; the servant stood waiting for orders, startled by the expression on his master's face.
"Is Wolfram still in the castle?" the Count asked at last.
"I think he is. He wanted to see the major-domo."
"Then send his son to me! But not a word of what has happened!--not even to the forester; send the boy here."
The man left the room, and for a moment Steinrück covered his eyes with his hand. This was terrible! And yet was it unnatural in the son of such a father? The lad's whole appearance showed that he had inherited not a drop of his mother's blood, and that other that filled his veins, did it not proclaim itself what it was, and was it not a duty to disclaim it and thrust it forth? Away with it!
The Count stood erect, resolute as ever, when Michael entered, unwillingly to be sure, but with no idea of what this new summons betokened.
"Close the door," said Steinrück, "and come here!"
This time no second command was necessary: Michael obeyed without hesitation. He stood before the Count, who, looking him directly in the eye, held out to him the empty case. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, with apparent composure.
The young man shook his head; he did not comprehend the strange question.
"It was lying here on the writing-table," Steinrück continued, "but it was not empty as it is now. It contained a star of sparkling stones. Did you not see it?"
Michael reflected. That, then, must have been the glittering object that sparkled so in the sunlight, but of which he had taken little heed.
"Well, I am waiting for an answer," said the Count, still keeping his eye fixed on Michael's. "Where is the star?"
"How should I know?" asked Michael, more and more surprised at this strange examination.
The Count's lips quivered. "You do not know, then? You are hardly so stupid as you pretend to be. You act a farce extremely well. Where is the star? I must know, and that instantly."
The threatening tone of the last words revealed the truth to the lad, and he stood as if paralyzed, so horrified, so dismayed, that for the moment he was utterly incapable of exculpating himself. His aspect deprived Steinrück of all shadow of doubt. He saw in it the consciousness of guilt.
"Confess, fellow!" he said in an undertone, but with terrible emphasis. "Give up what you have stolen, and thank God that I let you go scot-free. Do you hear? Give up your booty!"
Michael shrank as if he had received a stab, but in an instant he burst forth, "I a thief? I take----"
"Hush!" interrupted Steinrück, angrily. "I will have no noise, no commotion, but you do not stir from the spot until you have confessed. Confess!"
He seized the young fellow by the arm, and his grasp was like iron, but with a single wrench Michael freed himself. "Let go of me!" he gasped. "Never say that again! Never again, or----"
"What! you would threaten besides?" cried the Count, who took this outburst for the height of insolence. "Take care, boy; one word more, and I shall forget to spare you."
"I am no thief!" shouted Michael; "and whoever dares call me so I'll fell him to the earth!"
In an instant he had seized a heavy silver candelabrum from the table and swung it like a weapon towards the Count, who recoiled a step,--not from the menaced blow, but from the face confronting him. Was that the same young man that had stood there a few moments before with the vacant, dreamy countenance, the timid, sheepish air? He reared his head now like a wounded lion ready to rush upon the stronger foe, rage and savage hatred informing every feature. And Steinrück's eyes, flashing annihilation, encountered two other eyes, dark blue like his own, and gleaming with the same fire. There was one breathless moment. No coward, no thief, ever looked like that.
The door flew open,--the loud, menacing voice must have been heard in the anteroom,--and the forester appeared on the threshold, the frightened face of the servant looking over his shoulder.
"Boy, are you mad?" shouted Wolfram, hastening to his master's aid, and seizing Michael by the shoulder. But the lad shook himself free as a wounded stag shakes off the murderous pack, then dashed the candelabrum on the ground, and rushed to the door. But here he was intercepted by the servant. "Hold him!" the man cried out to the forester. "He must not escape! He has robbed the Herr Count!"
Wolfram, who was about to secure his foster-son, paused in horror. "Michael,--a thief?"
A cry burst from the lips of the tortured boy, a cry so desperate that Steinrück interfered