The anxiety that so far as the colonel was concerned gradually lulled itself to sleep, grew sharper with regard to the self-sacrificing friend, who at any moment might become her enemy and betrayer.
Lilly did not dare to cry until night time, when she felt sure of being alone. She would jump out of bed to wash her eyes, go back to bed again and cry until sleep took her in its soothing arms.
It was not shame, nor regret, nor longing love. It was a feeling of infinite solitariness, it was a straying about in perplexity.
For something must surely happen--confession, convent, flight together, suicide together, or one of all those events described in Mrs. Asmussen's books as following upon so atrocious a deed.
Lilly had arisen from her sick bed several days before, but she had not seen Von Prell. She could discover no signs of him, even when she locked all the entrances to her room and rushed to the window for a glimpse of him.
All the while the colonel kept recommending horseback riding. There was Von Prell to take her and the exercise would do her good.
At last, Saturday at dusk, she felt she had to yield--they would meet at dinner the next day at any rate.
The moment for the meeting before which she had recoiled had arrived with its threat of fresh dangers.
When she saw her friend ascend the terrace steps in his high, shiny riding boots, looking pale and thin, and moving as if by springs to display his counterfeit respect, something within her suddenly turned numb.
"Why, that young man there is an utter stranger," she felt. "He doesn't concern you in the least--you are looking upon him for the first time in your life."
The colonel had gone to the stables, but Miss von Schwertfeger stood on the terrace with her hands clasped and looked after them.
The road, muddy with recent rains, plashed under the horses' hoofs and a cold evening wind crinkled the winter wheat. A yellow sheen hiding the poverty-stricken sun glimmered behind the ragged birch boughs. Everything looked sad and weary. It even seemed a vain task to have sowed the winter wheat.
They trotted on side by side in silence--a long, long series of anxious moments.
"He must speak some time," thought Lilly, biting her tongue till it bled.