He refreshed the dying
man's face with it, held it to his lips, and said: "Herr Graf,
variance and strife are ended now. For heaven's sake, say where I
may find my father!"
"So! Wouldst find him?" replied Schlangenwald, fixing his look on
the eager countenance of the youth, while his hand, with a dying
man's nervous agitation, was fumbling at his belt.
"I would bless you for ever, could I but free him."
"Know then," said the count, speaking very slowly, and still holding
the young knight's gaze with a sort of intent fascination, by the
stony glare of his light gray eyes, "know that thy villain father is
a Turkish slave, unless he be--as I hope--where his mongrel son may
find him."
Therewith came a flash, a report; Friedel leaped back, staggered,
fell; Ebbo started to a sitting posture, with horrified eyes, and a
loud shriek, calling on his brother; Moritz sprang to his feet,
shouting, "Shame! treason!"
"I call you to witness that I had not yielded," said the count.
"There's an end of the brood!" and with a grim smile, he straightened
his limbs, and closed his eyes as a dead man, ere the indignant
artisans fell on him in savage vengeance.
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