"
They drove through the dark streets where men like shadows hurried
silently about their business.
The Frauengasse seemed to be deserted when they reached it. It was
Mathilde who opened the door. She must have been at the darkened
window, behind the curtain. Lisa had gone home to her native
village in Sammland in obedience to the Governor's orders.
Sebastian had not been home all day. Charles had not returned, and
there was no news of him.
Barlasch, wiping the snow from his face, watched Desiree, and made
no comment.
CHAPTER XXIV. MATHILDE CHOOSES.
But strong is fate, O Love,
Who makes, who mars, who ends.
Desiree was telling Mathilde the brief news of her futile journey,
when a knock at the front door made them turn from the stairs where
they were standing. It was Sebastian's knock. His hours had been
less regular of late. He came and went without explanation.
When he had freed his throat from his furs, and laid aside his
gloves, he glanced hastily at Desiree, who had kissed him without
speaking.
"And your husband?" he asked curtly.
"It was not he whom we found at Thorn," she answered. There was
something in her father's voice--in his quick, sidelong glance at
her--that caught her attention. He had changed lately. From a man
of dreams he had been transformed into a man of action. It is
customary to designate a man of action as a hard man. Custom is the
brick wall against which feeble minds come to a standstill and
hinder the progress of the world.
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