“Exactly what we were saying ourselves, Count,” added the Frenchman.

As they spoke, Matthew listened with one ear as he gazed about the room. In the two years since he was first in this part of Germany, he had grown at least two inches and filled out in the chest and shoulders. He had become more a man in appearance and bearing though still with a youthful expression of innocence even though he was surrounded daily by such events of import. He now stood five-eleven and, though still on the slender side, showed a well-proportioned musculature that any young man would feel confident to carry. His face had strengthened its lines, and he resembled his father more than ever. In the striking black tuxedo, white linen shirt, and black bow tie, one who did not know him might easily have mistaken him for one of the diplomatic corps himself.

When Baron Heinrich von Dortmann arrived with his wife and daughter, Count von Schmundt greeted them as if they were on the most intimate of terms.

“Heinrich, my friend,” he said, shaking his neighbor’s hand, “Ingrid and I are so glad you could come! Marion, Sabina,” he added, turning his head toward the two women.

“Thank you, Ernst,” said the baron warmly, delighted though surprised at the man’s gracious demeanor after such a lengthy cool spell between them.

“Breaking away in the middle of your harvest must have been difficult.”

“My men are managing just fine without me,” laughed the baron.

“Where is Ingrid?” asked Marion, glancing around.

“She will be down presently.”

“Have you seen our friend the doctor?” asked the baron.

Schmundt’s face immediately clouded.

“Whose friend?” he said coolly.

“What do you mean, Ernst? Our friend—Doctor Abrahams.”

“He’s not my friend, Heinrich, and if you know what’s good for you—which I doubt you do—you won’t consider him yours any longer either.”

“What are you talking about? You did invite him, did you not?”

“Keep your voice down, Heinrich,” rejoined the count. “And no, of course I didn’t invite him.”

“Why not? He has been a friend of your family for years.”

“Things have changed, Heinrich. It is time you woke up to that fact.”

“But Doctor Abrahams is—”

“Look, Heinrich,” interrupted the count, “there are people here from Berlin. Important people. The doctor has had, shall we call it, a visit from some of them. It would not be healthy for either of us to associate with him again. It’s all changed, Heinrich. All the past alliances have to be redrawn. I have made my choice, and I suggest you do the same.”

He stared intently at his lifelong neighbor with an unmistakable glint of omen in his eyes. Then he attempted a smile, though without much success, and added, “Now, enjoy yourselves, have something to drink—there are plenty of refreshments.”