for he saw
that Kohle had reached out his hand for the bottle of sherry that had
been left from breakfast and still stood on the table--"not a drop,
Herr Kohle--Oh, God! who would have imagined it!"

He sank back on the sofa again after an unsuccessful attempt to rise,
and muttered unintelligibly to himself, as old people so often do.

The painter was greatly shocked. He had always honored this old
gentleman as a very model of cheerful equanimity and clear-headedness;
and in many of his professional or personal troubles he had often felt
disposed to go and ask his advice, which he always gave with great
wisdom and gentleness. And now Kohle saw him sitting there helpless and
unmanned, like a night-bird that has lost its way in the daylight, and
closes its eyes and tries to shrink into itself.

But, at last, the old man appeared to rouse himself by a powerful
effort; he opened his eyes wide and attempted to smooth his withered,
faded face, fringed with a gray stubble, into the old kindly lines,
only succeeding, however, in producing a kind of grin, something
between laughing and weeping.

"My dear Herr Kohle," he said, "I must seem to you like a madman; but,
if you knew all, you would easily understand why my old brain has been
thrown a little off its balance. And you shall know all about it some
day; but now--don't be offended with me--you are so much younger, it
would be very hard for me to tell you everything. Oblige me by calling
the lieutenant--he has had more experience--or no, you are at your
work, tell me where I can find Herr von Schnetz. I don't wish to
disturb you--"

At this moment he of whom they had been speaking came into the room,
and was, in his turn, not a little amazed when he saw the state his old
friend was in. Kohle left the two alone. In spite of his fever for
work, he could not find it in his heart to lead the exhausted old man
into another apartment.

The latter did not appear to notice his absence. He had not yet let go
of the hand Schnetz had offered him, as if, in his agitation, he found
it necessary to cling to some support. Notwithstanding his benevolent
feelings toward those younger than himself, he was, as a general thing,
a man of rather reserved manners, and not particularly lavish of signs
of confidence and familiarity.

"My good friend," he said, "be lenient toward me, and listen patiently
without interrupting me. For in order to help me you must know my whole
sad history, and