"What's it about?" asked my brother.
"Oh, nothing. Wheel me into the study just once more. You may as well
trouble yourself for the sake of a hero. You idled away your time while
I was away, but now that is over. I'll bring you to order," and I began
singing, as a joke of course,--"My friends, we're bravely hurrying
towards the foe...."
They understood the joke and smiled, only my wife did not lift up her
face, she was wiping the cups with a clean embroidered cloth. And in
the study I saw once again the light-blue wall-paper, a lamp with a
green shade and a table with a water-bottle upon it. And it was a
little dusty.
"Pour me some water out of this," ordered I, merrily.
"But you've just had tea."
"That doesn't matter, pour me out some. And you," said I to my wife,
"take our son and go into the next room for a minute. Please."
And I drank the water with delight in small sips, while my wife and
son were in the next room, and I could not see them.
"That's all right. Now come here. But why is he not in bed by this
time?"
"He is so glad you have come home. Darling, go to your father."
But the child began to cry and hid himself at his mother's feet.
"Why is he crying?" asked I, in perplexity, and looked around, "why are
you all so pale and silent, following me like shadows?"