'So much for your _segredezza_!' thought Sanin. The carriage had got
up to Emil. Sanin told the coachman to stop the horses, and called the
'wretched boy' up to him. Emil approached with hesitating steps, pale
as he had been on the day he fainted. He could scarcely stand.

'What are you doing here?' Sanin asked him sternly. 'Why aren't you at
home?'

'Let ... let me come with you,' faltered Emil in a trembling voice,
and he clasped his hands. His teeth were chattering as in a fever. 'I
won't get in your way--only take me.'

'If you feel the very slightest affection or respect for me,' said
Sanin, 'you will go at once home or to Herr Klueber's shop, and you
won't say one word to any one, and will wait for my return!'

'Your return,' moaned Emil--and his voice quivered and broke, 'but if
you're--'

'Emil!' Sanin interrupted--and he pointed to the coachman, 'do control
yourself! Emil, please, go home! Listen to me, my dear! You say you
love me. Well, I beg you!' He held out his hand to him. Emil bent
forward, sobbed, pressed it to his lips, and darting away from the
road, ran back towards Frankfort across country.

'A noble heart too,' muttered Pantaleone; but Sanin glanced severely
at him.... The old man shrank into the corner of the carriage. He was
conscious of his fault; and moreover, he felt more and more bewildered
every instant; could it really be he who was acting as second, who had
got horses, and had made all arrangements, and had left his peaceful