Miss Husted was silent for a long while. Von Barwig took her hand in his, speaking in a low, gentle voice. "It is the last request I make before I go to-morrow!"
"Before you go!" cried Miss Husted. "Why, where are you going?"
Von Barwig still held her hand tenderly clasped in his. He looked at her sadly, but made no answer.
"Professor!" she gasped, and then for the first time she noticed that his trunk was outside his room; packed, ready to go.
"You're going away?" she wailed pathetically. "You're going away?" The tears came to her eyes. "Where, where are you going?" she asked in a tone of entreaty. "Where? Where?"
"Home, back to Leipsic. My life here is over. I should have gone months ago, but I waited to see a dear, dear pupil married. What I have come for is accomplished, and now I go back; my mission is ended. See, I have bought my ticket," and Von Barwig brought out his ticket to show her.
Miss Husted was fairly stunned. She could only look at him in silence.
"Look! see my ticket," repeated Von Barwig, handing it to her to look at.
"First-class?" she asked plaintively. She always thought for her dear professor's comfort.
"Why it's a steerage ticket!" she said, looking closely at it.
"Yes, first-class steerage! Ach, what does it matter? I get there all right," said Von Barwig. "Here is what I owe you, all reckoned up to the penny! Here," and he thrust a small roll of bills in her hand.
"Oh, professor!" wailed Miss Husted. It was all she could say. She did not even realise that he had given her money.
"I shall not tell the others until the very last moment. I'll wake them up before daylight and say good-bye to them. Ah, it is not easy to see these old friends go out; one by one, like lamps in the dark!"
Miss Husted could only gaze at him through her tear-bedimmed eyes and shake her head mournfully. Von Barwig tried to cheer her.
"Come, think of Jenny, of Poons! New thoughts, new life, a new family! Now I say good-bye to one or two good neighbours, to Galazatti and the grocer, and the poor old Schneider. I'll be back, I'll be back," and Von Barwig put on his cloak and rushed off.
How long Miss Husted sat there at the table she never knew; she was too stunned to think. Going, her dear professor, going! It could not be true, she would not believe it! But she had seen his steamship ticket and there was his trunk. She went over to the little portmanteau and saw that the key was in the lock. She opened it to see if it was packed properly. She then noticed the little roll of bills in her hand and for the first time realised that it was his money she had taken. "Perhaps it is his last few dollars," she mourned. She stooped down and secreted the money in one of the pockets of his Prince Albert coat; then she closed the lid of the portmanteau. As she did so she burst into a flood of tears, and giving way completely to her feelings, she knelt by the little trunk and fairly sobbed as if her heart would break. When Pinac, Fico and Poons returned to their respective rooms they found her kneeling by the trunk. When they spoke to her she pretended to be singing a worn-out ditty of years gone by. It struck the men as being most tearful for a comic song.