Pirna had just come into view, and I asked whether they would stay the night there, or go on to Dresden.
"No, we shall stay the night; perhaps we shall go for a while to Bohemia," Stephensen answered. Minna, who had been leaning almost bodily out of the window, turned directly afterwards towards me; her face was colourless and drawn.
"Do you remain for some days in Dresden?" But this question was accompanied by a look which altered it to a petition.
My answer did not come immediately. Should I not take the opportunity of showing my hand—just a little? If I meant to do it at all, no more time was to be lost.
"As a matter of fact," I began deliberately, "when I was discovered sitting on the stone table in the 'Sophien-Ruhe grotto,' I had just come to the conclusion that I would leave to-night for Copenhagen."
At the last words Stephensen involuntarily made an uneasy movement, then straightened himself up and set his features in a highly disapproving manner. So the shot had gone home. I saw this perfectly though my eyes were riveted upon hers, which had not for a moment left my face; and in their wonderful greenish brown depths, I beheld a brighter and brighter golden light.
"I s—see," she said or rather breathed, scarcely moving her lips.
"But now I certainly shall alter my plans. I have work enough to detain me in Dresden for a week or two; for many weeks, if it comes to that."
"I am glad," said Minna.
Stephensen took refuge in his pet gesture—his finger between neck and collar—and seemed disposed to say something bitter, perhaps to the effect that I ought not
