I saw _two
hands_ put out to take the glass; a brown hand and a white--his hand,
and the hand of Monsieur Maurice. I saw--yes, before Heaven! as I live to
remember and record it, I saw the brown hand grasp the tumbler and dash it
to the ground!
"Pshaw!" said Monsieur Maurice, brushing the Seltzer-water impatiently from
his sleeve, "how came you to upset it?"
But Hartmann, livid and trembling, stood speechless, staring at the door.
"It was the other man!" said I, starting up with a strange kind of
breathless terror upon me. "He threw it on the ground--I saw him do
it--where is he gone? what has become of him?"
"The other man! What other man?" said Monsieur Maurice. "My little
Gretchen, you are dreaming."
"No, no, I am not dreaming. There was another man--a brown man! Hartmann
saw him--"
"A brown man!" echoed Monsieur Maurice. Then catching sight of Hartmann's
face, he pushed his chair back, looked at him steadily and sternly; and
said, with a sudden change of voice and manner:--
"There is something wrong here. What does it mean? You saw a man--both of
you? What was he like?"
"A brown man," I said again. "A brown man with bright eyes."
"And you?" said Monsieur Maurice, turning to Hartmann.
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