nstein, the last village of
the Black Forest before reaching Pforzheim. Pursuing his plan of
traveling by unfrequented routes, the professor had proposed to spend
the night in the beautiful old place which he had formerly visited,
intending to proceed the next day by rail to Carlsruhe, and thence down
the Rhine.

He had not seen Madame Patoff in the evening after her interview with
Paul, and when he met her in the morning it struck him that her manner
was greatly changed. She was very silent, and when she spoke at all
talked of indifferent subjects. She never referred in any way to the
meeting with her son, and the professor observed that for the first time
she allowed the day to pass without once mentioning the disappearance of
Alexander. He attributed this silence to the deep emotion she had felt
on seeing Paul, and to her natural desire to avoid any reference to the
pain she had suffered. As usual she allowed him to make all the
necessary arrangements for the journey, and she even spoke with some
pleasure of the long drive through the forest. She was evidently
fatigued and nervous, and her face was much paler than usual, but she
was quiet and did not seem ill. All through the long afternoon they
drove over the beautiful winding road, enjoying the views, discussing
the scenery, and breathing in the healthy odor of the pines. The
professor was an agreeable companion, for he had traveled much in
Southern Germany, and amused Madame Patoff with all manner of curious
information concerning the people, the legends connected with the
different parts of the Black Forest, the fairy tales of the Rhine, and
the history of the barons before Rudolf of Hapsburg destroyed them in
his raid upon the freebooters. This he sprinkled with anecdotes, small
talk about books, and comments on European society; speaking with ease
and remarkable knowledge of his subjects, and so pleasantly that Madame
Patoff never perceived that he wished to amuse her, and was trying to
distract her thoughts from the one subject which too easily beset them.
Indeed, the professor in the society of a woman of the world was a very
different man from the earnest, plain-speaking person who had dined with
Paul on the previous night. Even his gold-rimmed spectacles were worn
with a less professional air. His well-cut traveling costume of plain
tweed did not suggest the traditional scientist, and his bronzed and
manly face was that of a sportsman or an Alpine Club man