All the ungovernable passion of his nature broke out in these words; an
unearthly fire gleamed in his eyes, and his hands were clenched; every
fiber quivered in wild revolt; he was resolved to fight out this battle
with his father to the bitter end.

But the burst of anger which he expected did not come. Falkenried looked
silently at him, but with a glance of earnest, sad reproof.

"The only one in the whole world who loves you," he repeated slowly.
"You seem to forget that you have a father."

"Who has never loved me," cried Hartmut with excessive bitterness.
"Since I have found my mother, I have learned for the first time what
love is."

"Hartmut!"

The boy seemed almost staggered by this strange tone, vibrating with
pain, which he had never heard in all his life before, and the defiance
which was about to break forth anew, died on his lips.

"Because I have had no flattering words and caresses for you, because I
have been strict and severe in my training, have you doubted my love?"
said Falkenried, even in that same strange tone. "Do you know what that
severity has cost me against my only, my dearly loved child?"

"Father!" The word had a shy, hesitating sound, but it was not the old
shyness and fear; there lay in it a joyful, almost incredulous
astonishment, and Hartmut gazed on his father's face as if he could
never take his eyes from it. Falkenried put his hand on his son's arm