He walked up to the one who had turned pale.
"I beg your pardon, sir—"
His voice faltered. The embarrassed lieutenant replied, "You must be mistaken."
Diederich managed to say: "Not at all. I must have satisfaction. You have—"
"I don't know you at all," stammered the lieutenant. But his comrade whispered something in his ear: "That won't do," and taking his friend's card, together with his own, he handed them to Diederich. The latter gave his, and then he read: "Albrecht Count Tauern-Barenheim." He did not delay to read the other card, but began dutifully to make little bows. Meanwhile the second officer turned to Gottlieb Hornung.
"Of course, my friend meant no harm by the little joke. Needless to say, he is perfectly ready to give you satisfaction, but I wish to state that no insult was intended."
The other, at whom he glanced, shrugged his shoulders. Diederich stuttered: "Thank you very much."
"That settles the matter, I suppose," said the friend; and the two gentlemen went off.
Diederich remained standing there, with moist brow and choking voice. Suddenly he gave a deep sigh and smiled slowly.
This incident was the sole subject of conversation afterwards at their drinking parties. Diederich praised the true knightly conduct of the count to his comrades.
"A real nobleman always reveals himself."
He contracted his mouth until it was the size of a mousehole and brought out in a slow crescendo: "Good f—form is not a vain illusion."
He repeatedly appealed to Gottlieb Hornung as the witness of his great moment. "He wasn't a bit stuck up, was he? Even a rather daring joke is nothing to a gentleman like that. He preserved his dignity all through. Simply marvellous, I tell you! His Excellence's explanation was so thoroughly satisfactory that it was impossible for me to—you know, I am no roughneck."
Every one understood and assured Diederich that the tradition of the Neo-Teutons had been adequately maintained in this affair. The cards of the two noblemen were handed round by the juniors and were stuck between the crossed swords over the Emperor's portrait. There was not a Neo-Teuton that night who went home sober.
That was the end of the term, but Diederich and Hornung had no money to travel home. For some time past they had no money for most things. In view of his duties as a corps member, Diederich's cheque had been raised to two hundred and fifty marks, but still he was up to his eyes in debt. All sources from which a loan could be expected were exhausted, and only the most harried prospect stretched out forbiddingly before them. Finally they were obliged to consider the question of recovering what they themselves had lent in the course of time to their comrades, little as this accorded with knightly practice. Many old chums must meanwhile have come into money. But Hornung could find none. Diederich remembered Mahlmann.
"He is a good mark," he declared. "He was not a member of any corps, a common outsider. I'll beard him in his den." As soon as Mahlmann saw him, he at once burst into that tremendous laugh which Diederich had almost forgotten, and which immediately had an irresistible effect upon him. Mahlmann had no tact. He should have felt that all the Neo-Teutons were morally present in his office with Diederich, and on their account he should have shown more respect for Diederich. The latter had the sensation of having been roughly torn from that powerful unit, and of standing here as one isolated individual before another. This was an unforeseen and uncomfortable position. He felt all the less compunction in mentioning his business. He did not want any money back, such conduct would be unworthy of a comrade. He simply asked if Mahlmann would be so kind as to back a bill for him. Mahlmann leaned back in his desk-chair and said plain and straight: "No."
Diederich was astonished: "Why not?"
"It is against my principles to back a bill," Mahlmann explained.
Diederich blushed with annoyance. "But I have gone security for you, and then the bill came to me and I had to fork out a hundred marks. You took care not to show up."
"So you see! And if I were to go security for you now, you wouldn't pay up either."
Diederich was more surprised than ever.
"No, my young friend," Mahlmann concluded, "if I ever want to commit suicide I can do so without your help."
Diederich pulled himself together and said in a challenging fashion: "I see you have no conception of a gentleman's honour."
"No," Mahlmann repeated, laughing heartily.
With the utmost emphasis Diederich declared: "You appear to be a general kind of swindler. I understand that there is a good deal of swindling in the patent business."
Mahlmann stopped laughing. The expression of his eyes in his little head had become threatening, and he stood up. "Now, get out of here," he said quietly. "Between ourselves, I suppose, it doesn't matter, but my employes are in the next room, and they must not hear such talk." He seized Diederich by the shoulders, turned him around, and shoved him along. Every time he tried to break loose Diederich received a powerful cuff. "I demand satisfaction," he shrieked, "I challenge you to a duel!"
"I am at your service. Have you not noticed it? Then I'll get somebody else for you." He opened the door. "Frederick!" Then Diederich was handed over to one of the packers, who led him down the stairs. Mahlmann shouted after him: "No harm done, my young friend. Whenever you have anything else on your mind, be sure to call again."
Diederich put his clothes in order and left the building in proper style. So much the worse for Mahlmann if he made such an exhibition of himself. Diederich had nothing to reproach himself with, and would have been brilliantly vindicated by a court of honour. The fact remained that it was most objectionable that one person could allow himself such liberties. Every corps had been insulted in the person of Diederich. At the same time it could not be denied that Mahlmann had considerably increased Diederich's selfesteem. "A low dog," Diederich reflected. "But people are like that. …"
At home he found a registered letter.
"Now we can be off," said Hornung.
"How do you mean, we? I need my money for myself."
"You must be joking. I can't stay here alone."
"Then go and find some one else to keep you company!" Diederich burst into such a laugh that Hornung thought he was crazy. Thereupon he took his departure.
On the way he noticed for the first time that his mother had addressed the letter. That was unusual. … Since her last card, she said, his father had been much worse. Why had Diederich not come?
"We must be prepared for the worst. If you want to see your dearly-beloved father again, do not delay any longer, my son."
These expressions made Diederich feel uncomfortable. He assured himself that his mother was not trustworthy. "I never believe women anyhow, and mother is not quite right in her mind."
Nevertheless, Herr Hessling was breathing his last when Diederich arrived.
Overcome by the sight, Diederich immediately burst into a most undignified howl as he crossed the threshold. He stumbled to the bedside, and his face at that moment was as wet as if he had been washing it. He flapped his arms a number of times, like a bird beating his wings, and let them fall helplessly to his side. Suddenly he noticed his father's right hand on the coverlet, and knelt down and kissed it. Frau Hessling, silent and shrinking, even at the last breath of her master, did the same to his left hand. Diederich remembered how this black, misshapen finger-nail had hit his cheek, when his father boxed his ears, and he wept aloud. And the thrashings when he had stolen the buttons from the rags! This hand had been terrible, but Diederich's heart ached now that he was about to lose it. He felt that the same thought was in his mother's mind and she guessed what was passing in his. They fell into one another's arms across the bed.
When the visits of condolence came, Diederich was himself again. He stood before the whole of Netzig as the representative of the Neo-Teutons, firm and unbending in his knowledge