"His Highness the Prince is here, and wishes----"

The Prince? Could it be possible? Was it all only a dream? Is the
Prince coming to ask his pardon? Does he feel----?

Sonnenkamp went to the door; he opened it; there stood the Russian
Prince Valerian. He said, with friendly words, that he had come to see
if he could, in any way, be of assistance, and Herr Weidmann also----

"I need no assistance! I need no one," broke in Sonnenkamp, shutting
the door and locking it once more.

"I have no pity, and want no pity," said he to himself, holding both
his clenched hands on his breast. There was another knock.

"What is it? Why don't they leave me in peace?"

Through the key-hole came the sound of a gentle voice:--

"It is I, the Countess Bella."

Sonnenkamp shivered.

Is it a trick? It is some one who insists on speaking to him, assuming
that name and that voice.

Well! At any rate, the person who puts on that mask is very cunning.
Let us see who it is that is so shrewd!

He opened the door and stood transfixed; it was indeed Bella.

"Give me your hand!" she cried. "Your hand! You are a hero, I have
never before seen a hero. And what are all these puppets around you?
Stuffing for uniforms, nothing more; cowardly professors and newspaper
hacks! There is still a bugbear which they call humanity, of which they
are all in fear; before which they creep away, like children from the
wolf. You alone are a man!"

"Sit down," at last said Sonnenkamp in astonishment; he did, not in the
least understand what all this could mean. Bella kept up the same
strain, saying:--

"I knew that you were a conqueror, but I did not know that you were
such a mighty one."

Still Sonnenkamp was not able to understand. What does this woman want?
Is this a kind of mockery? But he was disposed to think otherwise, when
she exclaimed:--

"They are weaklings--cowards, all of them, the world of rank
particularly! They ought to have created you a count, an ordinary baron
is altogether too small a thing for you. You have done what they all
would have liked to do--no, not all, but only certain ones who have the
mettle within them. But they are ashamed before the man who
accomplishes what they had not the energy, or the courage, or the
daring to accomplish. They have swords, they carry fancy daggers, and
are frightened at the rattan of the school-master, who raps them on the
fingers with it and says to them: 'Know ye not that we are living in
t