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"Clear the Track!" A Story of To-day

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Title: "Clear the Track!" A Story of To-day

Author: E. Werner

Translator: Mary Stuart Harrison Smith


        
Release date: February 7, 2011 [eBook #35201]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35201

Credits: Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "CLEAR THE TRACK!" A STORY OF TO-DAY ***




Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books






Transcriber's Note:
   1. Page scan source:
      http://books.google.com/books?id=fhInAAAAMAAJ&dq






                           "CLEAR THE TRACK!"

                              (FREIE BAHN)



                          _A STORY OF TO-DAY_



                                   BY
                               E. WERNER
      _Author of "The Alpine Fay," "Banned and Blessed," "Danira,"
                "Vineta," "At a High Price," etc. etc_.



                    TRANSLATED BY MARY STUART SMITH



                         THE TRADE SUPPLIED BY
                     THE INTERNATIONAL NEWS COMPANY
                   LONDON                       LEIPSIC





                            Copyright, 1893.
                                   BY
                        ERNST KEIL'S NACHFOLGER
                               *   *   *
                        [_All rights reserved_]





                                CONTENTS.


   CHAP.

      1. The Feast of Flowers at Nice

      2. In Council

      3. "See the Path is Clear to a Grand Career"

      4. Odensburg Manor

      5. A Victory Wop

      6. In Which More Than One Charmer Charms

      7. Cecilia Visits Radefeld

      8. A Bough of Apple-Blossoms

      9. The Cross on the Whitestone

     10. Maia's Choice

     11. A Secret Foe and Open Enemy

     12. The Goal in Sight

     13. Runeck leaves Odensburg

     14. How an Old Bachelor makes Love

     15. A Wedding Day

     16. Scenes at the "Golden Lamb"

     17. Election Times

     18. Fortune Smiles on Victor Eckardstein

     19. "Off With the Old Love, On With the New"

     20. Maia Must be Saved

     21. From Heights of Bliss to Depths of Woe

     22. His Sin had found Him out

     23. A Lover's Tryst

     24. A Deed that Wipes Out Old Scores

     25. 'Twixt Life and Death

     26. How Forces that Are Opposed May Blend






                            CLEAR THE TRACK!




                               CHAPTER I.

                     THE FEAST OF FLOWERS AT NICE.


A spring day at the South! Sky and sea are radiant in their deep blue,
flooded with light and splendor, the waves breaking gently upon the
shores of the Riviera, to which spring had already come in all its
glory, while, at the North, snow-storms are still raging.

Here rests golden sunshine upon the white houses and villas of the
town, that embraces the shore within the radius of a vast semicircle,
adorned by lofty palms, and embowered in the green of the laurel and
myrtle. Among thousands of shrubs, the camellia is conspicuous from its
wealth of bloom, in every stage of perfection, its colors ranging from
pure white to richest crimson; and could anything excel the richness of
its glistening foliage? From the adjacent hills hoary monasteries look
down, and modern churches surrounded by tall cypress trees; friendly
orchards stand out from pine and olive groves, and in the distance the
blue Alps, with their snow-crowned summits, are half hidden in sunny
mist.

Nice was celebrating one of its spring-and-flower festivals, and the
whole city and its environs had turned out in gala-attire, whether
stranger or native-born. Gayly-decked equipages passed by in endless
procession, every window and balcony being filled with spectators, and
on the sidewalks, under the palms, thronged a merry multitude, the
brown and picturesque forms of fishermen and peasants being everywhere
conspicuous.

The battle of flowers on the Corso was in full swing, the sweet
missiles being constantly shot through the air, here hitting their
mark, there missing it: blossoms, that are treasured at the North as
rare and expensive, were here scattered heedlessly and lavishly. Added
to this, there were everywhere waving handkerchiefs, shouts of joy,
bands of music playing, and the intoxicating perfume of violets,--the
whole of this enchantingly beautiful picture being enhanced by the
golden sunshine of spring with which heaven and earth was filled.

Upon the terrace of one of the fashionable hotels stood a small group
of gentlemen, evidently foreigners, who had chanced to meet here, for
they conversed in the German language. The lively interest with which
the two younger men gazed upon the entrancing scene betrayed the fact
that it was new to them; while the third, a man of riper years, looked
rather listlessly upon what was going on.

"I must go now," said he, with a glance at his watch. "One soon gets
tired of all this hubbub and confusion, and longs after a quiet spot.
You, gentlemen, it seems, want to stay a while longer?"

His companions certainly seemed to have that intention, and one of
them, a handsome man, with slender figure, evidently an officer in
civilian's dress, answered laughingly:

"Of course we do, Herr von Stettin. We feel no need for rest whatever.
The scene has a fairy-like aspect for us Northmen, has it not,
Wittenau?--Ah! there come the Wildenrods! That is what I call taste;
one can hardly see the carriage for the flowers, and the lovely Cecilia
looks the very impersonation of Spring."

The carriage that was just driving by was indeed remarkable through its
peculiarly rich ornamentation of flowers. Everywhere appeared
camellias, the coachman and outriders wore bunches of them in their
hats, and even the horses were decked with them.

On the front seat were a gentleman of proud and noble bearing, and a
young lady in a changeable silk dress of reddish hue, her dark hair
surmounted by a dainty little white hat trimmed with roses. Upon the
back seat a young man had taken his place, who exerted himself to take
care of the heaps of flowers that were fairly showered upon this
particular equipage. Among them were the costliest bouquets, evidently
given in compliment to the beautiful girl, who sat smiling in the midst
of all her floral treasures, and looking with great, beaming eyes upon
the festive scene around her.

The officer, also, had taken a bunch of violets, and dexterously flung
it into the carriage, but instead of the lady, her escort caught it,
and carelessly added it to the pile of floral offerings heaped up on
the seat beside him.

"That was not exactly meant for Herr Dernburg," said the dispenser of
flowers rather irritably. "There he is again in the Wildenrod carriage.
He is never to be seen but when dancing attendance upon them."

"Yes, since this Dernburg has put in his appearance, the attentions of
all other men seem superfluous," chimed in Wittenau, sending a dark
look after the carriage.

"Have your observations, too, carried you so far already?" said the
young officer tauntingly. "Yes, millionaires; alas! are always to the
fore, and I believe Herr von Wildenrod knows how to appreciate this
quality in his friends, for I hear that luck sometimes deserts him over
yonder at Monaco."

"You must be mistaken; there can be no talk of any such thing as that,"
replied Wittenau, almost indignantly. "The Baron produces the
impression that he is a perfect gentleman, and associates here with our
very first people."

The other laughingly shrugged his shoulders.

"That is not saying much, dear Wittenau. Just here, at Nice, the line
separating the _élite_ from the world of adventurers is strangely lost
sight of. One never rightly knows where the one ceases and the other
begins, and there is some mystery about this Wildenrod. As to whether
his claim to nobility is altogether genuine----"

"Undoubtedly genuine, I can certify as to that," said Stettin, who had
hitherto been a silent listener, but now came forward and joined in the
conversation.

"Ah, you are acquainted with the family, are you?"

"Years ago, I used to visit at the house of the old Baron, who has died
since, and there I also met his son. I cannot pretend to have any
particular acquaintance with the latter, but he has a full right to the
name and title that he bears."

"So much the better," said the officer, lightly. "As for the rest, it
is only a traveling acquaintance, and no obligation is incurred."

"Assuredly not, if one lays aside such relations as easily as they are
assumed," remarked Stettin with a peculiar intonation. "But I must be
off now--I hope to meet you soon again, gentlemen!"

"I am going with you," said Wittenau, who seemed suddenly to have lost
his appetite for sight-seeing. "The rows of carriages begin to thin out
already. Nevertheless, it will be a hard matter to get through."

They took leave of their comrade, who was not thinking of departure
yet, and had just supplied himself with flowers again, and together
left the terrace. It was certainly no easy thing to make one's way
through the densely-packed throng, and quite a while elapsed ere they
left noise and stir behind them. Gradually, however, their way grew
clearer, while the shouts of the multitude died away in the distance.

The talk between the two gentlemen was rather monosyllabic. The younger
one, particularly, appeared to be either out of sorts or absent-minded,
and suddenly remarked, quite irrelevantly:

"It seems that you know all about the Wildenrods, and yet mention it
to-day for the first time. And, moreover, you have had nothing to do
with them."

"No," said Herr von Stettin coolly, "and I should have preferred other
associates for you. I several times intimated as much to you, but you
would not understand my hints."

"I was introduced to them by a fellow-countryman, and you said nothing
decided----"

"Because I know nothing decided. The associations of which I told you,
a while ago, date twelve years back, and many changes have taken place
since then. Your friend is right, the line of demarcation between the
Bohemian and man of society gets strangely confused, and I am afraid
that Wildenrod is on the wrong side of the barrier."

"You do not believe him to be wealthy, then?" asked Wittenau, with some
emotion. "He lives with his sister, in high style, being apparently in
the easiest circumstances, and, at all events, has command of abundant
means, for the present."

Stettin significantly shrugged his shoulders.

"Inquire at the faro-bank of Monaco; he is a regular guest there, and
is said, too, to have good luck in play, for the most part--so long as
it lasts! One hears, too, occasionally of other things, that are yet
more significant. I have not felt disposed to renew the former
acquaintance, although our intercourse had been rather frequent, for
what used to be the Wildenrod possessions lay in the immediate
neighborhood of our family property, that is now in my hands."

"What used to be?" asked the young man. "Those possessions have been
sold, then? I perceive, however, that you do not like to speak on the
subject."

"To strangers, most assuredly not. I shall give what information I have
to you, though, because you have a real interest in the matter.
Remember, however, that what I say is strictly confidential!"

"My word upon it, that nothing you tell me shall go any farther."

"Well, then," said Stettin gravely, "it is a brief, melancholy, but,
alas! not an unusual story. Although the estate had long been heavily
encumbered with debt, the establishment was maintained upon a most
expensive scale. The old Baron had contracted a second marriage, in
later life, long after his son was a grown man. He could not thwart his
young wife in a single wish, and her wants were many, very many. The
son, who was in the diplomatic service, was also accustomed to high
living; various other losses ensued, and finally came the catastrophe.
The Baron suddenly died of a stroke of apoplexy--at least so it was
said."

"Did he lay violent hands on himself?" asked Wittenau in a whisper.

"Probably. It has not been ascertained for certain, but it is supposed
that he was not willing to survive the misery and disgrace of his ruin.
Disgrace was certainly averted, for the family still holds the most
honorable position. The Wildenrods rank with the highest nobility in
the land, and the name was to be shielded at any price. The castle and
lands adjacent became a royal domain, so that the creditors could be
pacified at least, and, by the general public, the sale was deemed a
voluntary one. The widow with her little daughter would have been given
over to utter poverty if, by the king's grace, she had not been allowed
a home in the castle and had an annuity settled upon her. As for the
rest, she died soon afterwards."

"And the son? The young Baron?"

"Of course he resigned his position, had to do so, under the
circumstances, for he could not be _attaché_ of affairs without some
fortune of his own. It must have been a severe blow upon the proud,
ambitious man, who had, most likely, been kept in utter ignorance of
the state of his father's affairs, and, now, all of a sudden, found
himself stopped short in his career. To be sure, many another honorable
calling stood open to him; friends would doubtless have secured some
situation for him, but this would have necessitated descent from the
sphere in which he had hitherto played a chief part; necessitated
sober, unremitting toil in an obscure station, and those were things
that Oscar Von Wildenrod could not brook. He rejected all offers of
employment, left the country, and was no more heard of in his native
place. Now, after the lapse of twelve years, I meet him here at Nice
with his young sister, who, meanwhile, has come to woman's estate, but
we prefer, it seems, on both sides, to treat each other as strangers."

While this narration was being made, 'Wittenau became very thoughtful,
but made no comment whatever. Noticing this, his friend laid his hand
upon his arm, and said gently:

"You should not have given young Dernburg such angry glances, for it
has been his appearance upon the scene, I fancy, that has saved you
from committing a folly--a great folly."

A glowing blush suffused the young man's face at this intimation, and
he was evidently much embarrassed.

"Herr von Stettin, I----"

"Now, do not understand me as reproaching you on account of looking too
deeply into a pair of fine eyes," interposed Stettin. "That is so
natural at your age; but in this case, it might have been fatal. Ask
yourself, whether a girl thus brought up, who has grown up amid such
influences and surroundings, would make a good farmer's wife, or be
happy in a country neighborhood. As for the rest, you would hardly have
found acceptance as Cecilia Wildenrod's suitor, because her brother
will give the decisive voice, and he wants a millionaire for a
brother-in-law."

"And Dernburg is heir to several millions, people say," remarked
Wittenau with undisguised bitterness. "So, he will be the one upon whom
this honor is to be bestowed."

"It is not mere say so, it is fact. The great Dernburg iron and steel
works are the most important in all Germany, and admirably conducted.
Their present chief is such a man as one rarely meets. I speak from
personal knowledge, having accidentally made his acquaintance a few
years ago. But see, there are the Wildenrods coming back again."

There, indeed, was the Baron's equipage, which had left the Corso a
little while ago, and was now on its way back to their hotel. The fiery
horses, which had with difficulty been curbed in, so as to keep step
with a procession, were now going at full speed, and rushed past the
two gentlemen, who had stepped aside, and looked upon the cloud of dust
that had been raised.

"I am sorry about that Oscar Wildenrod," said Stettin earnestly. "He
does not belong to the ordinary herd of mankind, and might perhaps have
accomplished great things, if fate had not so suddenly and rudely
snatched him away from the sphere for which he had been born and
reared. Do not look so downcast, dear Wittenau! You will get over this
dream of your youth, and after you get home to your fields and meadows,
will thank your stars that it was nothing but a dream."


The carriage, meanwhile, had gone on its way, and now stopped before
one of those grand hotels, whose exterior sufficiently showed that it
was only at the disposal of rich and distinguished guests.

The suite of rooms occupied by Baron von Wildenrod and his sister was
one of the best, and, of course, most expensive in the house, and
lacked none of the conveniences and luxuries to which pampered guests
lay claim. The rooms were splendidly furnished, but there was about
them that air of the public-house that takes away, in large measure,
any sense of genuine comfort.

The gentlemen were already in the parlor. Cecilia had retired in order
to lay aside her hat and gloves, while her brother, chatting
pleasantly, conducted their visitor to the veranda, whence was to be
seen a fine view of the sea and a portion of Nice.

Young Dernburg appeared to be twenty-four or five years old, his looks
making an impression that was insignificant rather than disagreeable.
His diminutive figure, with its somewhat stooping carriage and pale
complexion, with that peculiar tell-tale flush upon the cheeks,
betrayed the fact that he had sought the sunny shores of the Riviera,
not for the sake of pleasure, but out of regard for health. His face
had its attractive features, but its lineaments were much too weak for
a man, and this weakness culminated in the dreamy, somewhat veiled,
look of his brown eyes. The self-consciousness of the rich heir seemed
to be entirely lacking in this young man, his manners being unassuming,
almost shy, and had not the name he bore everywhere procured him
consideration, he would have been apt to be overlooked by the
generality of the world.

The Baron's personality was in every respect the reverse. Oscar von
Wildenrod was no longer young, being already not far from fifty years
old.

There was something imposing in his lofty stature, and his clean-cut,
regular features could but be regarded as handsome still, in spite of
the sharp lines engraven upon them, and the deep furrow between the
brows, that lent a rather sinister aspect to his countenance. Only a
cool, considerate calm seemed perceptible in his dark eyes, and yet
they flashed occasionally, with a fierceness that betokened the
existence of a passionate, unbridled nature. As for the rest, there was
something thoroughly distinguished in the Baron's whole appearance, his
manners united the complaisance of a man of the world combined quite
naturally with the pride inalienable from the scion of an ancient stock
of nobility, which was manifested, however, in a manner by no means
offensive.

"You are not seriously thinking of taking your leave of Nice?" asked
he, in the course of conversation. "It would be much too early, for you
would just be in time for that season of storms and rain, which they
honor with the name of spring, in that dear Germany of ours. You have
spent the whole winter in Cairo, have been just six weeks at Nice, and
should not expose yourself now to the asperities of that harsh Northern
climate, if you would not imperil the health that is restored to you,
but can hardly be established as yet."

"The question is not one of to-day or to-morrow," said Dernburg, "but I
cannot defer too long my return home. I have been more than a year in
the South, feel perfectly well again, and my father urgently requests
that I return to Odensburg as soon as possible, provided that the
doctors give me their permission."

"That Odensburg must be a grand creation," remarked the Baron.
"According to all that I hear from you and others, your father must
almost occupy the position of a small potentate; only his authority is
more unlimited than that of a prince."

"Certainly, but he has also the whole care and responsibility of his
station. You have no idea what it is to be at the head of such an
undertaking. It requires a constitution of iron, such as my father
possesses; the burden that he carries on his shoulders is that of a
very Atlas."

"Never mind, it is power, and power is always a delight!" said
Wildenrod, with flashing eyes.

The young man smiled rather sadly.

"To you, and very likely to my father, too--I am differently
constituted. I should prefer a quiet life, in a modest home, located in
such a terrestrial paradise as this delicious climate supplies; but it
is not worth while to talk; as an only son, it must one day devolve on
me to superintend the work at Odensburg."

"You are ungrateful, Dernburg! A good fairy endowed you, when in your
cradle, with a destiny such as thousands aspire to, with eager
longing--and I verily believe you sigh over it."

"Because I feel that I am not qualified for it. When I behold what my
father accomplishes, and reflect that one day the task will devolve
upon me, of filling his place, there comes over me a sense of
discouragement and timidity that I cannot control."

Wildenrod's eyes were fastened, with a peculiar expression upon the
diminutive figure and pale features of the young heir.

"One day!" he repeated. "Who cares now about the distant future. Your
father is still living and working in the plenitude of his powers, and
in the worst case he will leave you capable officers, who have been
trained in his school. So you will actually stay no longer at Nice? I
am sorry for that; we shall miss you a great deal."

"We?" asked Dernburg softly. "Do you speak in your sister's name also?"

"Certainly, Cecilia will be very sorry to lose her trustiest knight. To
be sure, there will be plenty to try and console her--do you know,
yesterday I had a regular quarrel upon my hands with Marville, because
I offered you the seat in our carriage, upon which he had surely
calculated?"

This last remark was apparently made carelessly, without any design,
but it had its effect. The young man's brow became clouded, and with
unmistakable irritation, he replied:

"Vicomte de Marville constantly claims a place by the Baroness, and I
plainly perceive that he would like to supplant me in her favor
altogether."

"If you voluntarily resign your vantage-ground--very likely. So far,
Cecilia has continually manifested a preference for her German
compatriot, and yet there is no doubt but that the amiable Frenchman
pleases her, and the absent is always at a disadvantage, especially
where young ladies are concerned."

He spoke in a jesting tone, as though no weight were to be attached to
his words, since he did not look upon the matter at all in a serious
light. This only made Dernburg more solicitous to come to an
understanding. He made no reply, he was evidently struggling with
himself, and finally began, unsteadily and with hesitation:

"Herr von Wildenrod, I have had something on my heart--for a long while
already--but I have not ventured until now----"

The Baron had turned and looked at him wonderingly. There lurked in his
dark eyes a half-mocking, half-compassionate expression, the look
seeming to say: "You have millions to offer and yet hesitate?" but
aloud he replied: "Speak out, pray; we are no strangers, and I hope
that I have a claim to your confidence."

"It is, perhaps, no longer a secret to you that I love your sister,"
said Dernburg almost timidly. "But allow me to say to you, that I
should account myself the happiest of men, if I could hope to win
Cecilia--that I would do everything to make her happy--may I hope?"

Wildenrod did not indeed affect any surprise at this confession, he
only smiled, but it was a smile that was full of promise.

"First of all, you must address your question to Cecilia herself. Young
ladies are rather self-willed on such points, and my sister peculiarly
so. Perhaps I am too considerate of her, and she is completely spoiled
in society now, how much so you saw for yourself again to-day, during
our ride on the Corso."

"Yes, I saw it," and the young man's tone showed deep depression, "and
just on that account, I have never before been able to find the courage
to speak of my love."

"Really? Well, then, I shall have to come to the help of your timidity.
It is true that our whimsical little princess is not to be counted
upon, but, to speak confidentially, I have no fear of your being
rejected by her."

"Do you really think so?" exclaimed Dernburg rapturously. "And how as
to yourself, Herr von Wildenrod?"

"I shall gladly welcome you as a brother-in-law, and see my sister's
happiness entrusted to you without a qualm of anxiety. My sole desire
is to see this child happy and beloved, for you must know that my
relation to her has always been that of a father rather than a
brother."

He extended his hand, which was grasped by the young suitor, and warmly
pressed.

"I thank you. You make me very, very happy by this consent, by the hope
that you give me, and now----"

"You would like to hear this consent spoken by other lips," said
Wildenrod, laughingly finishing his sentence for him. "I'll gladly give
you the opportunity to speak, but you must plead your own cause. I
allow my sister entire freedom to act as pleases her best. I think,
however, my blabbing has inspired you with courage, so venture boldly,
dear Eric."

He gave him a friendly nod, and went. Eric Dernburg also returned again
to the parlor, and his glance took in the quantities of flowers that
the servant had brought up and piled upon the table. Yes, indeed,
Cecilia Wildenrod was petted and spoiled as is the lot of few of her
sex. Again to-day how had she been overwhelmed with flowers and tokens
of homage! She had only to choose: dared he indulge the hope that her
choice would fall upon one like him? He had wealth to offer, but she
was rich herself, for her brother's style of living left no doubt on
that head, and moreover she came of an ancient and noble family. As he
thus pondered, the scale oscillated painfully. In spite of the
encouragement that he had received, the young man's face showed that he
feared just as much as he hoped.

Wildenrod, meanwhile, had passed through the adjoining apartment, and
now entered his sister's chamber.

"Ah, is that you, Oscar? I am coming directly. I only want to stick
another flower in my hair."

The Baron looked at the magnificent bunch of pale yellow roses that lay
half-loosened upon the dressing-table, and asked abruptly:

"Are those the flowers that Dernburg gave you?"

"Certainly; he brought them to me, when he came for the drive on the
Corso."

"Good! adorn yourself with them!"

"And I should have done so all the same without your most gracious
permission," laughed the young lady, "for they are the loveliest of
all."

She selected one of the roses, and held it, experimentally, against her
hair: there was an uncommon, but indeed very conscious, grace in this
movement: the slender girl of nineteen resembled her brother little, if
at all: at first sight they seemed to have nothing in common but the
dark color of their hair and eyes, otherwise hardly a feature betrayed
the nearness of their relationship.

Cecilia Wildenrod had that style of appearance which seems to have an
irresistible fascination for the opposite sex. Her features were more
irregular than those of her brother, but their mobility and variety of
expression gave them a peculiar charm that never wore out. Her dark
hair, that was so abundant as not to be always brought down to the
requirements of the latest fashion, and complexion, that was of the
clear brunette type, made one suspect that she could not be of purely
German origin; and from beneath long black eyelashes gleamed a pair of
lustrous eyes, that allured one who looked deeply into them with all
the fascination of a riddle to be solved. In these mysterious depths,
too, glowed a spark that might well be fanned into a flame; they, too,
having some of that glow of passion, which in Oscar's case was hidden
under a semblance of excessive coldness. This constituted the sole
resemblance between the brother and sister, but it was a resemblance
that stood for much.

Cecilia still wore the silk dress in which she had appeared on the
Corso, already a few pale yellow, half-open, rosebuds adorned her
bosom, and now she placed a full-blown rose among the dark waves of her
hair. Nature's adorning became her wondrously, and her brother's glance
rested upon her with evident satisfaction. He had closed both doors
carefully behind him, nevertheless he now lowered his voice and said in
a whisper:

"Eric Dernburg has something besides roses to offer you--his hand. He
has just had a talk with me, and is now going to address himself to
you."

The young lady likewise heard this news without any surprise.

She turned her head to one side, that she might see how the flower
looked in her hair, and asked with apparent indifference:

"So soon?"

"Soon? Why, I have been expecting a declaration from him this long
while, and he would have made it, too, only you seem to have given him
poor encouragement."

A fold appeared between Cecilia's brows, exactly in the same spot where
a deep furrow had seamed her brother's.

"If he were only not so abominably tiresome!" murmured she.

"Cecilia, you know that I am anxious for this marriage, exceedingly
anxious, and I hope that you will regulate your conduct accordingly."

His tone was very positive, seeming to preclude any chance of
opposition on the part of his sister, who now pushed away the rest of
the roses with a gesture of impatience.

"Why had it to be this Dernburg, and no one else? Vicomte de Marville
is much handsomer, much more agreeable----"

"But is not thinking of offering you his hand," interposed Wildenrod.
"He, just as little as all the other triflers who swarm around you. You
need not put on that injured air, Cecilia, you may rely implicitly upon
my judgment: I know men, I tell you, girl. Now this union with Dernburg
secures to you a brilliant destiny; he is very rich."

"Well, so are we, for that matter."

"No," said the Baron shortly and sharply.

The young lady looked at him in amazement: he stepped up to her and
laid his hand upon her arm.

"We are _not_ rich! I am obliged to tell you this now, that you may not
ruin your future prospects, through caprice or childishness, and I
confidently expect you to accept this offer."

Cecilia still looked at her brother, half shocked, half-incredulous,
but she was evidently accustomed to submitting to his will in silence,
and attempted no further opposition.

"As if I should dare to say 'no,' when my stern brother dictates a
'yes,'" pouted she. "But I can tell Dernburg one thing, he need not
flatter himself with the idea that I am going to bury myself with him
in that horrid Odensburg. To live among droves of day-laborers, at
those iron works, full of dust and soot--it makes me shudder just to
think of it."

"All that can be accommodated afterwards," said Wildenrod calmly. "As
for the rest, you have no idea what it is to be some day master of the
Odensburg works, and what a stand you will take in the world, by his
side. When you do come to comprehend the situation fully, you will be
grateful to me for the choice that I have made. But come, we should not
keep your future husband waiting any longer."

He took her arm, and led her to the parlor, where Dernburg was awaiting
them in restless suspense. The Baron pretended not to observe his
uneasiness, and chatted unrestrainedly with him and his sister about
their drive on the Corso, and various little incidents that had
occurred, until it suddenly occurred to him to admire the sunset, that
promised to be particularly beautiful this evening. He stepped out upon
the veranda, as if undesignedly, let the glass doors fall to behind
him, and thus gave the young couple an opportunity to be alone.

"Why, it looks just like a flower-market!" exclaimed Cecilia
laughingly, as she pointed to the table that was overladen with
bouquets. "Francis has, of course, piled them up with a reckless
disregard of taste: I must really arrange them better. Will you not
help me to do so, Herr Dernburg?"

She began to divide out the various sorts and put them in vases and
bowls, and with the remainder to decorate the hearth. Dernburg helped
her, but he was not a very efficient helper, for he could not take his
eyes off the slender form, flitting to and fro, in dainty garb, with
that lovely rose in her dark hair.

At the first glance, he had perceived that those were his roses that
she wore, and a happy smile played about his lips. He wondered if her
brother had already given her a hint? She was so free from
embarrassment, laughed so heartily at his absence of mind, and treated
him with the same pretty insolence as usual--she could not possibly
know that he meant to address her!

In Cecilia's manner, there was most assuredly nothing of the sweet
shyness and embarrassment of a young girl who, for the first time,
listens to the addresses of a lover. In fact, it hardly seemed that she
comprehended the seriousness of the situation. She would soon be twenty
years old, at which age girls in her circle often married or, rather,
were given in marriage, for their families usually decided the matter
for them. Individually, moreover, she had no objection to marrying. It
would be very pleasant to enjoy the freedom allowed a married woman, to
be wholly untrammeled as to expenditure in dress, jewels, etc., and to
be no longer obliged to submit to the will of a brother, who was at
times very despotic, only--how much handsomer and more agreeable was
Viscount de Marville than this Dernburg, who had not even rank to
recommend him. It was really outrageous, that a Baroness Wildenrod
would, in future, have to bear the name of a simple citizen!

She had just taken up the last bouquet, preparatory to decorating the
hearth with it, when she heard her name breathed softly but fervently.

"Cecilia!"

She turned around and met the gaze of Eric, who stood beside her, and
continued in the same tone:

"You have only eyes and thoughts for the flowers--have you not a single
glance for me?"

"Why, do you stand so much in need of that glance?" asked Cecilia
archly.

"Oh! how very much I need it! It is to give me courage for a
confession--will you hear it?"

She smiled and laid down the bunch of flowers that she held in her
hand.

"Why, that sounds quite portentous. Is it something so important?"

"No less than the happiness of my life, for which I look to you!"
replied Dernburg impetuously. "I love you, Cecilia, have done so from
the first moment that my eyes rested upon you. You must have known this
for a long while, could not help guessing it, but I always saw you so
surrounded by admirers, and so rarely obtained the least excuse for the
indulgence of hope, that I dared not press my suit. Now, though, that
the time for my departure draws near, I cannot go, without certainty as
to my fate. Will you be mine, Cecilia? I will lay everything,
everything, at your feet, gratify every wish, and all my life long
guard you as the most precious of treasures. Say one word, only a
single one, that shall give me hope, but do not say 'no,' for that I
could not stand."

He had caught both her hands, his face, commonly so pale, was now
suffused with a bright flush, and his voice quivered with emotion. This
was no stormy, passionate declaration, but each word expressed the
truest love, the fullest tenderness, and the young girl who had so
often been besieged by flattery and adulation, heard this tone for the
first time, and listened, half perplexed, half fascinated.

Cecilia had not supposed the quiet, bashful lover, whom she had often
treated with great disdain, capable of such a wooing, and as he now
went on, more tenderly, more urgently, the 'yes' pleaded for came at
last from her lips, rather hesitatingly, it is true, but without any
sign of repugnance.

In a transport of rapture, Dernburg wanted to fold his betrothed to his
heart, but she shrank back. It was an involuntary, half unconscious
movement of shyness, almost aversion, such as perhaps would have
wounded and chilled anybody else, but Eric only saw in it the sweet
modesty of the young girl, and while he still softly clasped her hands,
he whispered:

"Oh, Cecilia, if you did but know how I love you!"

There was no mistaking in his tone the genuine accents of devoted love,
and it did not fail to make its impression upon Cecilia, who now began
to realize that she had no right to be so reserved with the man to whom
she had plighted her troth.

"Well, then, you deserve that I should give you a little love in
return, Eric!" said she, with a charming smile, at the same time
suffering him to draw her to his side and imprint a first kiss upon her
lips.

Wildenrod was still standing out upon the veranda, and turned around
with a smile as the young couple approached him. Beaming with pride and
happiness, Dernburg led his betrothed up to him, and received the
congratulations of his future brother-in-law, who first embraced his
sister, then Eric.

Then there began a lively, cheerful conversation, out upon the balcony,
where the soft breezes of spring were still sporting. The dazzling
splendor of daylight was already breaking up into that gorgeous
blending of colors, as is only witnessed in the South, at sundown. The
city and surrounding heights were glorified, as it were, by the
resplendent sheen that glistened and sparkled like molten gold upon the
waves of the sea, and while the distant mountains were veiled in a
roseate mist, the sun itself, a fiery ball, sank lower and lower, until
it finally vanished from view.

Eric had slipped his arm around the waist of his betrothed, and
whispered into her ear tender and loving words. Irradiated with glory
as was the lovely landscape before them, so seemed the future to him,
by the side of that precious girl. Wildenrod stood apart, apparently
wholly absorbed in the contemplation of that magnificent spectacle, but
nevertheless, a deep sigh of relief escaped his chest, and while his
eyes flashed in triumph, he murmured, almost inaudibly: "At last!"




                              CHAPTER II.

                              IN COUNCIL.


"I Am sorry, gentlemen, but I have to pronounce all your plans and
proposals unsatisfactory. The question is to draw all the water-power
we need from the Radefeld low-grounds, in the shortest way, and with
the least possible expense. But, without exception, your designs call
for such vast and expensive outlays, that it is not worth while to talk
of their being carried into effect."

It was Eberhard Dernburg, the proprietor of the Odensburg Works, who
thus declined the plans laid before him by his officers, in this
decided manner. The gentlemen shrugged their shoulders and looked at
the plans and drawings that were spread out upon the table, when,
finally, one of them said:

"But, you see, Herr Dernburg, that we have to contend here with the
greatest difficulties. The land lies in the most unfavorable of all
ways, mountains and valleys alternating along the whole line."

"And the pipes must be secured against all casualties," remarked a
second; while the third added:

"The laying of them down will certainly occasion a large expenditure,
but as things are now, this cannot be altered."

These three gentlemen, the director and head-manager of the Odensburg
works, the superintendent of the technical bureau, and the
chief-engineer, were unanimous in their views. This conference was
being held in Dernburg's office, where that gentleman usually received
the reports of his subordinates, with whom his son also was found
to-day. It was a large apartment, quite plainly furnished, but its
walls were lined with bookcases. His desk was heaped up with letters
and other papers; on the side-tables lay plans and maps of all sorts;
and the great portfolios, that were visible in an open press, seemed to
contain similar matter. It was evident, that this room was the central
point, whence came the guidance of the whole gigantic enterprise,--a
spot devoted to never-ending toil and unflagging activity.

"You do not, then, think any other solution possible?" began Dernburg
again, as he drew out a paper from a portfolio near by, and spread it
out before him. "Please glance at this, gentlemen! Here the course
taken is to start from the higher ground, but it penetrates the
Buchberg, and then, without further difficulty, is to be conveyed to
the works across Radefeld itself--there is the solution sought for."

The officers looked somewhat chagrined, and eagerly bent over the
drawing. Evidently none of them had thought of this plan, and yet they
did not seem to consider it with any special good-will.

"The Buchberg is to be penetrated, did you say?" asked the director. "A
very bold thought, that would assuredly offer great advantages, but I
do not deem it feasible."

"Neither do I," chimed in the chief-engineer. "At all events, a
searching examination is needed, to ascertain if it is possible. The
Buchberg----"

"Is to be mastered," interposed Dernburg. "The preliminary works have
already been executed. Runeck established the fact of their
possibility, at the outset, when he made the outer measurements, and
treats of it expressly in the explanation now lying before us."

"So the plan emanates from him, does it?" asked the superintendent of
the technical bureau.

"From Egbert Runeck--he and none other."

"I thought so."

"What do you mean, Herr Winning?" asked Dernburg, quickly turning upon
him.

Herr Winning made haste to protest that he had no particular meaning;
that the affair only interested him because the young technician was in
his own department, immediately under his superintendence: the other
two said nothing but cast upon their chief, strange looks of inquiry,
which he did not appear to observe.

"I have decided upon adopting Runeck's plan," said he quietly, but, at
the same time, with a certain sharpness. "It fulfills all my
requirements, and the estimate of expenses amounts to about half of
yours. We must consult, of course, over the details, but anyhow, the
work is to begin as soon as possible. We'll talk it all over another
time, gentlemen."

He rose from his seat, and in so doing gave the signal to disperse, for
the officers bowed and took their leave; but in the ante-chamber,
however, the director paused, and asked in a whisper:

"What do you say to it?"

"I do not understand Herr Dernburg," answered the chief-engineer, with
a voice likewise cautiously lowered. "Is it that he actually does not
or _will_ not know?"

"Of course he knows it. I myself have given him information on the
subject, and the Socialist gentleman himself does not pretend to make
any secret of the course he is pursuing; he recklessly admits the stand
that he has taken. Should any other man here at Odensburg dare to do
the same, he would obtain his dismissal on the spot, but Runeck's
discharge seems as yet to be a thing of the dim future. You see his
plan has been accepted without any question, while we were plainly
given to understand that ours were good for nothing. That surpasses
anything that has happened yet----"

"You just wait," interposed Winning calmly. "On that point our chief is
not to be trifled with, we all know. At the right time he will speak
authoritatively, and, if Runeck does not yield then, it is all up with
him, let him be ten times over the young master's bosom-friend and
deliverer from death. You may rely upon that!"

"Let us hope so," said the director. "By the way, how poorly Mr. Eric
does look still, and how remarkably silent he is. Why, I do not believe
he uttered ten words during the whole debate."

"Because he did not understand what we were talking about," explained
the chief-engineer, shrugging his shoulders. "They have taken pains
enough to drill it into him, but very evidently not much has stuck
to him. He has inherited nothing from his father, whether outwardly
or inwardly. I must be gone, though, I have to drive out to
Radefeld--Good-morning, gentlemen!"

Father and son had been left together by themselves, and the former
walked silently up and down the room, evidently quite out of sorts.

In spite of his sixty years Eberhard Dernburg was still in the full
vigor of life, and nothing but his gray hair and wrinkled forehead gave
any indication that he had already crossed the threshold of old age.
His face, with its firm, grave features, told no such story, any more
than did his glance, which was keen and clear, and his tall figure was
as erect as ever. His address and speech were those of a man accustomed
to command, and to receive unfailing obedience, and in his outward
appearance there was something that spoke of the sternness attributed
to him alike by friend and foe.

It was plainly to be seen now, that his son bore not a shadow of
resemblance to the father, but a glance at the half-length portrait
that hung over the desk explained this, in some sort. It represented
Dernburg's deceased wife, and Eric was speakingly like her. There was
the same countenance, with its delicate, meaningless features, the
soft, uncertain lineaments, the dreamy, reserved look.

"There sit my deputies with all their wisdom," began Dernburg, finally,
in a half-mocking, half-angry tone. "For months they have been
pottering over the task, concocting all manner of designs, not one of
which was worth anything; and, on the other hand, there is Egbert,
without any commission at all, going quietly along, taking the
necessary measurements, and studying the situation, until he matures a
plan, and lays on the table before me a scheme that is simply masterly!
How do you like his sketch, Eric?"

The young man cast an embarrassed look upon the drawing which he still
held in his hand.

"You find it excellent, father. I--pardon me--I cannot exactly get a
clear idea of its bearings."

"Why, I should think it ought to be clear enough, since you have been
pondering over it since yesterday evening. If you require so much time
for comprehending a simple plan, for which all the necessary
explanations are given, how will you acquire the quick insight into
affairs, indispensably necessary for the future owner of the Odensburg
works?"

"I have been absent fully a year and a half," said Eric in apology,
"and during all that time, the physicians enjoined it upon me to
refrain from all exertion, particularly prohibiting any mental strain.
You must make allowances, father, and give me time to fit into harness
again."

"You have always had to be on your guard against over-exertion, and
been restricted in work," said Dernburg with a frown. "On account of
your continual sickness, you were never able to pursue any serious
study, or engage in anything that required bodily activity. I fixed all
my hope upon your return from the South, and now--do not look so
disconsolate, Eric! I do not mean to reproach you; it is not your
fault, but it is a misfortune in the station to which you are now
called."

Eric suppressed a sigh; once more he was feeling this enviable station
to be a sorely heavy burden. His father continued impatiently:

"What is to be done, when I shall no longer be here? I have capable
subordinates, but they are all dependent upon my guidance. I am
accustomed to do everything myself, I never let the reins slip out of
my hands, and your hands, I am afraid, will never be strong enough to
manage them alone. I have long perceived the necessity of securing you
a support for the future--and just at this crisis, Egbert disappoints
me by being guilty of the madness of allowing himself to be caught in
the net of the socialistic democrats! It is enough to drive one mad!"

He stamped passionately with his foot. Eric looked at his father, with
a certain shyness, then said gently:

"Perhaps the matter is not so bad as you have been informed. The
director may have exaggerated many a thing."

"Nothing has been exaggerated. My investigations have ratified every
word. His period of study in that cursed Berlin has been fatal to the
young man. I ought to have taken the alarm, indeed, when he wrote me
word, after the first few months of his stay there, that he no longer
needed the means which I had placed at his disposal, for he could
manage to support himself by giving drawing-lessons and by other work.
It must have been hard enough for him, but I liked his pride and
independence of spirit, and let him have his way. Now I see more
clearly! Those mad ideas were already beginning to seethe in his brain,
the first meshes of the net were already woven about him, in which he
has since been caught, and he would accept nothing more from me, for he
knew that all was at an end between us, if I learned anything about
it."

"I have not spoken with him yet, and therefore cannot judge. He is out
at Radefeld, I hear."

"He is coming in to-day. I am expecting him before the hour is out."

"And you are going to talk to him on the subject?"

"Of course--it is high time."

"Father, let me implore you not to be hard upon Egbert. Have you
forgotten----"

"That he drew you out of the water? No, but he has forgotten that since
then he has been almost treated like a son of the house. Do not meddle
in this matter, Eric, you do not understand it."

The young man was silent, not daring to oppose his father, who, for the
last few minutes, had resumed his pacing of the floor. Now he paused in
his walk, and said grumblingly: "I have on my mind all manner of
disagreeable things, and lo! here you come, with your love-affairs, and
prating about marriage. It was dreadfully precipitate of you to bind
yourself without first obtaining my consent."

"I believed myself certain of your approval, and so did Wildenrod, when
he promised me his sister's hand. What objection have you to make to my
choice, father? The daughter that I am going to present to you is so
lovely and sweet. How beautiful she is that picture shows. She is,
moreover, rich, from a highly-esteemed family--indeed she belongs to a
line of the ancient nobility----"

"I do not attach the slightest consequence to that," brusquely
interrupted his father. "No matter how suitable your choice was, it
should have been first referred to me; instead of which you even
allowed the engagement to be announced at Nice before my answer had
arrived. It almost looks as if there was a purpose to obviate any
possible opposition on my part."

"But there can be no talk of that! My relations with Cecilia had not
been unobserved, it was already the theme of town-talk; and Oscar
explained to me that he had to acknowledge the truth, to avoid any
misinterpretation of our actions."

"Never mind, it was a piece of unwarrantable presumption. My
investigations have certainly proved satisfactory."

"Ah! you have had yourself informed?"

"Of course, since a family connection is at stake. I have certainly not
turned to Nice--a mere transient sojourn like that offers no reliable
hold--but to the native place of the Wildenrods. Their former
possessions are now part of the royal domain, and I got the information
I wanted from the court-marshal's office."

"That was superfluous, father," said the young man reproachfully.

"I, however, deemed it needful for your sake," was the dry rejoinder.
"There is no doubt but that the Wildenrods belong to the most ancient
nobility in the land. The old Baron seems to have lived rather
extravagantly, but was universally respected. His estates were sold
after his death, and, for a respectable sum were transferred to the
king, on condition that the widow might still be allowed a home in the
castle. This certainly agrees with the information furnished you by
Herr von Wildenrod, a person, by the way, with whom I cannot have the
slightest affinity."

"But you do not know him yet. Oscar is an intellectual man, and in many
respects a remarkable one."

"That may be, but a man who no sooner succeeds to the paternal
inheritance than he makes haste to dispose of the family estates, at as
high a price as possible, deserting the service of his fatherland, and
roving around in the wide world, without any profession or occupation
of any kind,--such a man inspires me with but little respect. This
gypsy life on the part of these high-born drones, that wander homeless
from place to place, everywhere seeking nothing but their own pleasure,
revolts me to my inmost soul. I also regard the Baron as lacking
greatly in delicate feeling, when he allows his young sister to share
in such a life."

"He loves Cecilia with the greatest tenderness, and she has never had
anybody in the world to depend on but him. Should he commit his only
sister to the hands of strangers?"

"Perhaps it would have been better. When he deprives a young girl of
home and family, he takes the ground from under her feet. However, she
would find both here again. You love her, at all events, and if you are
really sure that she reciprocates your love----"

"Otherwise would she have plighted her troth to me?" cried Eric. "I
have already described to you, father, the extent to which she was
idolized and courted, with the whole world at her feet, as it were. She
had so many to choose from and chose me!"

"That is just what surprises me," said Dernburg, coolly. "You do not
possess one of those shining qualities which girls of her claims and
education covet. However, that may be--first of all, I want to get
personally acquainted with Fräulein von Wildenrod and her brother. Let
us invite them to Odensburg, and we shall see what will come of it.
Meanwhile, I entreat that no greater publicity be given to the affair
than it has already unfortunately attained."

So saying he left the room, and went into his library, which was
immediately adjacent.




                              CHAPTER III.

                         "See the path is clear
                          To a grand career."


Eric remained alone. He had thrown himself into a chair, and rested his
head in his hand. The manner in which his engagement had been taken at
home depressed and disenchanted him. He had not thought of the
possibility of objections, expecting that his father would hail his
selection with joyful approval, instead of which investigations had
been entered into, and doubts and scruples suggested. His father
actually seemed to entertain serious mistrust, and evidently claimed,
even now, the decisive voice. The young man fired up at the thought of
his petted, idolized betrothed, and her haughty brother, being first
put on probation, as it were, here at Odensburg, ere they should
ultimately be admitted into their family. Just here the door was
opened, and he started up from his reverie.

"Egbert!" he cried, joyfully springing to his feet, and hurrying to
meet a young man, who came in with outstretched hand.

"Welcome home, Eric!"

"Yes, I have been away from it a long while, so long that I am quite a
stranger in it," said Eric, returning the pressure of his hand, "and we
have not seen one another for an eternity."

"I, too, have been away two years in England, only returning a short
time ago. But first of all, how is your health now?"

Egbert Runeck was very little older than the young heir, but he had the
appearance of being more mature by some years. His _personnel_ made the
impression of manly vigor in the highest degree, and his tall figure
towered so over Eric's, that the latter had to look up when he spoke to
him. His face, tanned by exposure to sun and wind, was anything but
handsome, yet there was expression and energy in every feature. His
light brown hair and full beard had a slightly reddish hue, and
underneath a broad and massive brow shone a pair of dark-gray eyes,
that had a peculiarly cold and earnest look. The man wore the air of
one who had hitherto tasted only the toils of life, neither knowing nor
seeking its pleasures. Moreover, there was something harsh and arrogant
in his manner, that, toned down into mildness at this moment, was
nevertheless the predominant trait of his whole mien. Such an
appearance might be striking--attractive it was not.

"Oh, I am perfectly well again, thank you," said Eric, in answer to the
inquiry after his health. "The journey has fatigued me some, of course;
I am suffering, too, from the change of climate, but this is a mere
passing annoyance."

Egbert's eyes were fastened upon his friend's face, that to-day looked
rather pale and pinched, and his voice, too, softened as he replied:

"Certainly, you will have to get accustomed to the North, again."

"If it were only not so hard for me!" sighed Eric. "You do not know
what held me fast in the sunny South so long and so irresistibly."

"Why, I guessed the truth easily enough, from those hints in your last
letters--or is it to be a secret still?"

A bright, joyous smile flitted across Eric's features, while he gently
shook his head.

"Not from you, Egbert. My father does not want it known at Odensburg
for the present, but I may say to you, that, under the palms of the
Riviera, on the shores of the blue Mediterranean, I have found
happiness, such enchanting, fairy-like happiness as I never dreamed of
before. If you could only see my Cecilia, with her ravishing beauty,
her winning sweetness----Ah! there it is again, that cold, mocking
laugh of yours, with which you used always to set at naught any
romance, any warmth of feeling, you stern Cato you, who never have
known nor ever will know love."

Runeck shrugged his shoulders.

"I have had to devote all my energies to work, from earliest youth, and
the romantic seldom forms a large ingredient in such a life as that.
The like of us has no time for what you call love."

This reckless remark hurt the feelings of the lover, who said
excitedly:

"So, love is in your estimation only a pastime for the idle? You are
the same old fellow, Egbert! To be sure, you never did believe in that
mysterious, overpowering force, that irresistibly draws two people
together, and binds them indissolubly together."

"No!" said Egbert, with an air of cool, almost mocking, superiority.
"But do not let us dispute over it. You, with your soft heart, must
give and receive love,--for you it is a necessity of life. I am not
made for that sort of thing--have had other aims in view from the
beginning--such as do not comport with dreamt of love. The name of your
betrothed is Cecilia, then?"

"Cecilia von Wildenrod. What is the matter? Do you know the name?"

Runeck had certainly started when the name was pronounced, and the
glance that he cast upon the friend of his youth was a peculiarly
searching one.

"I believe I have heard it somewhere before," he replied. "The talk
there was of a Baron von Wildenrod."

"My future brother-in-law, I suppose," said Eric with unconcern. "He
belongs to a well-known family of the ancient nobility. But, first of
all, you must see my Cecilia. I have introduced her to father and
sister, at least, through her portrait."

He took a rather large likeness that lay on his father's desk, and
handed it to his friend. Although the photograph was faithful, it had
by no means the charm of the original, but it showed what a beauty she
was, and the large, dark eyes looked full at the inspector. Egbert
looked down upon it silently, without uttering a word, until meeting
the expectant gaze of the girl's lover, he said:

"A very beautiful girl."

The tone in which he spoke these words was peculiarly frigid, and Eric
was chilled by it, too. He knew, to be sure, that his old friend was
not at all susceptible to the charms of female beauty, but,
notwithstanding, he had calculated upon a warmer expression of
admiration. They both stood by the desk--Runeck's glance fell
accidentally upon a second photograph, that likewise lay there, and
again there flitted across his features the same peculiar expression as
a while ago, upon the mention of that name, a sudden shiver, that
lasted but for an instant.

"And this one, here, I suppose, is the brother of your betrothed?" said
he. "It may be seen by the likeness."

"That is Oscar von Wildenrod certainly, but, properly speaking, there
is no likeness whatever. Cecilia does not resemble her brother in the
least; their features are quite different."

"But the same eyes!" said Egbert slowly, continuing to regard the two
pictures fixedly; then he suddenly pushed them from him, and turned
away.

"And you have not even a congratulation for me?" asked Eric
reproachfully, being mortified at this indifference.

"Pardon me, I forgot it. May you be happy, as happy as you deserve to
be! But I must go to your father, who is expecting me, and requires,
you know, undeviating punctuality."

He evidently wanted to cut short this interview. Eric, too, remembered
now what was impending, and the subject that was to be brought into
discussion.

"Father is in his library," he remarked, "and you know he will not be
disturbed there. He has summoned you from Radefeld----do you know why?"

"I suspect so, at least. Has he spoken to you about it?"

"Yes, and from him I heard the first word on the subject, Egbert--for
heaven's sake, be on your guard. You know my father, and are aware that
he will never tolerate such a bent in his works."

"In general he tolerates no other bent than his own," rejoined Egbert
coldly. "He never can nor will comprehend, that the boy, who has to
thank him for education and culture, has become a man, who presumes to
have his own views, and go his own way."

"This way seems to diverge very widely from ours," said Eric sadly.
"But you did not give me the slightest intimation of this in your
letters."

"Why should I? You had to be spared and guarded against excitement, and
you would not have understood me, either, Eric. You have always shunned
all the questions and conflicts of the present, while I have confronted
them, and, of late years, stood in the very midst of them. If, thereby,
a gulf has opened between us, I cannot help it."

"Do not say between _us_, Egbert! We are friends and must remain such,
let happen what will. Think you that I have forgotten to whom I owe my
life? Yes, I know you do not like to be reminded of it, but it ever
abides in my memory--the plunge into the ice-cold flood, the deadly
anguish, when the rushing waters overwhelmed me, and then the rescue,
when your arm encircled me. I did not make it easy for you; I clutched
you so convulsively, that I hardly left you room to move, and put you
in extreme peril. Any other would have shaken off the dangerous burden,
but you did not let me go, you held me with your mighty strength, and
worked your way forward until we reached the blessed shore. That was an
heroic deed for a lad of sixteen years."

"It put my powers as a swimmer to a good test, that was all," answered
Runeck, declining any claim to merit. "I shook the water from my
clothes and was all right again, while the shock and chill brought on
you an illness that well-nigh proved fatal."

He broke off, for, just now Dernburg entered with a book in his hand,
and responded to the young engineer's greeting as composedly as if
there was no agitating subject to be broached between them.

"You enjoy meeting after your long separation, do you not?" asked he.
"You see Eric for the first time to-day--how do you find him?"

"He looks rather delicate yet, and will have to be prudent for a while
longer, it seems to me," said Runeck, with a glance at his friend's
pale face.

"The doctor is of the same opinion. And to-day you do look especially
feeble, Eric! Go to your room, and take a good rest."

The young man looked irresolutely from one to the other. He would
gladly have stayed, to interpose some soothing word between these two,
if the discussion grew too hot; but his father's direction sounded very
peremptory, and now Egbert, also, said in a low tone:

"Go, I implore you."

With a sensation of bitterness Eric submitted, feeling that there was
something humiliating in the compassionate indulgence, and that it
extended further than to his bodily condition. He had never been
treated by his father as an equal, capable of independent action, and
properly, not by his friend either. Now he was sent away to take his
rest, which meant, that they wanted to spare him from being witness to
a scene that would almost assuredly be stormy, and he--he, indeed,
allowed himself to be thus dismissed, depressingly conscious that his
presence would be superfluous and useless!

The other two found themselves alone. Dernburg had seated himself, and
again taken in hand the drawings of the Radefeld aqueduct, that he once
more proceeded to inspect.

"I have decided upon carrying out your plan. Egbert," said he. "It is
the best of all laid before me, and solves all the difficulties in an
astonishing manner. I have to consider further on a single point; but,
taken as a whole, the plan is excellent, and it is to be carried into
effect forthwith. Will you undertake its superintendence? I offer you
the appointment."

The young engineer seemed to be surprised; he had probably expected a
totally different introduction; unmistakable satisfaction was depicted
upon his features, at this recognition, emanating from his chief, who
was usually so chary with his praise.

"Very gladly," replied he; "but this much I know, the chief-engineer
has the affair already in hand. I was commissioned by him to attend to
the outworks."

"But if I now decide differently, the chief-engineer has nothing to do
but to submit;" declared Dernburg emphatically. "It depends only upon
yourself, whether you shall undertake the execution of your own plan,
and, in this regard, there is certainly another matter to be discussed
and cleared up first."

So far he had spoken in a calm, business-like tone, but Egbert was
sufficiently prepared; he knew what subject was now to be introduced,
and yet he obviously did not shrink. The transient mildness that he had
manifested awhile ago in conversation with Eric had long since
vanished, and the stolid and determined in his character stood forth
undisguised, as he now firmly met the dark looks of his chief.

"I have long since remarked that you had come back a changed man,"
resumed Dernburg; "in many respects this was to have been expected. You
were three years in Berlin, and two in England, where your sphere of
observation was broadened; indeed, I sent you out into the world, that
you might see and judge for yourself. But now things have come to my
ears, concerning which I must apply to you for more exact information.
I do not like long circumlocution, so briefly and clearly: is it true
that you constantly associate with the socialists in our town, that you
publicly own yourself to be one of them, and that you are upon very
intimate terms with that Landsfeld, their leader? Yes, or no?"

"Yes," said Egbert simply.

Dernburg did not seem to have expected so reckless a confession. He
frowned still more darkly.

"Really! And do you say that so composedly to my face?"

"Am I to deny the truth?"

"And since when have you been a member of that party?"

"For four years."

"The thing started, then, in Berlin: I thought as much. And you have
actually allowed yourself to be thus ensnared. To be sure you were very
young and inexperienced, but still I would have expected you to be
wiser."

One could see that the young man was wounded by the manner in which he
was spoken to. Calmly, but with sharper intonation, he replied: "Those
are _your_ views, Herr Dernburg; I regret that mine differ from them."

"And it is not for me to disturb myself about them, you think,"
supplemented Dernburg. "There you are mistaken, though. I do concern
myself about the political opinions of my employés. But I do not
condescend to enter into explanations with them. Whoever does not like
Odensburg can quit. I force nobody to stay; but he who does remain has
to submit absolutely to its regulations. Either----or! There is no
third way here."

"Then I shall be obliged to choose that 'or,'" said Egbert coldly.

"Will it be so easy for you to leave us?"

The young man looked down moodily.

"I am in your debt, Herr Dernburg, I know it----"

"That you are not! If I have given you education and culture, you have
saved my Eric for me; but for you I should have lost my only son. So
far as that goes, we are quits, if we propose to balance accounts on a
purely business basis. If that is what you propose, speak out openly,
and we are done with each other."

"You do me injustice," said Runeck, with suppressed emotion. "It is
hard enough for me thus to oppose you."

"Well, who forces you to do so? Only those wild ideas, that have run
away with you so. Do you think it is an easy thing for me to give you
up? Be reasonable, Egbert. It is not your chief who speaks to you--he
would have long since cut the matter short! But for years you have been
almost a child of my house."

The half-fatherly, half-masterful tone entirely missed its aim. The
young engineer, with arrogant self-assertion, raised his head, as he
answered:

"I _am_ possessed by those 'wild ideas,' and stick to them. There comes
a time when the boy becomes of age, and I reached this state when out
in the world, and I cannot go back to the irresponsibility of boyhood.
Whatever you demand of the engineer, the official, shall be done to the
best of my ability. The blind subjection that you demand of the man, I
cannot and _will_ not take upon myself. I must have free course in
life."

"Which you have not with me?" asked Dernburg in an irritated tone.

"No!" said Egbert firmly. "You are a father to your subordinates so
long as they submit themselves unquestioningly, but in Odensburg they
recognize only one law--viz., your will. The director yields just as
unconditionally as does the lowest laborer; no one has an opinion of
his own at your works, or ever will have, so long as you are at the
head of things."

"Those are pretty things, to be sure, that you attribute to me," said
Dernburg fiercely. "You say, plainly, that I am a tyrant. You, to be
sure, have always been allowed to take more liberties than all the rest
put together--have done so, candidly, too. You never were passively
obedient, nor was such a thing required of you, either, for we'll talk
of that later. Free course! There again is one of your catch-words.
With you, all is to be down, all, and then you will have free
course--to destruction."

He had risen to his feet, and walked to and fro several times, like a
person trying to compose himself, then he paused in front of the young
man, and said with bitter scorn:

"In spite of your youth, you seem to have quite a significant part to
play in your party. They make no secret of setting the greatest hopes
upon you, and seeing in you one of their future leaders. Those people
are not so stupid as some suppose; they know their men, and with less
attractive bait would not have caught you."

"Herr Dernburg!" exclaimed Runeck, "do you believe me capable of low
calculation?"

"No, but of ambition!" said the older man coldly. "You may not
acknowledge to yourself what has driven you into those ranks, but I
will tell you how it is: to be a clever engineer, and gradually work
one's way up to be chief-engineer, is an honorable career, but much too
modest a one for a man of a disposition like yours. To guide thousands
by a word, a nod; to fling forth burning words in the Reichstag, such
as the whole country shall hear; to be lifted upon a shield, like a
conqueror, that is power, that would charm you. Do not contradict me,
Egbert; with my experience I see farther than you do--in ten years let
us talk together again!"

Whether the words hit home was not to be decided. Runeck stood there
with lowering brow and compressed lips, but replied by not a syllable.

"Well, I suppose my Odensburg will have to do without you, meanwhile,"
began Dernburg again. "I am master here and suffer no rival rule,
whether open or secret; tell that to your party-comrades, if they
should not know it already. But what was your idea, when you came back
to me with such views? You knew me! Why did you not stay in Berlin, or
England, and send your challenge from there?"

Again Egbert made no answer, but this was not the defiant silence of a
while ago, in which lay ten contradictions; now his eye sought the
ground, and a deep blush slowly mantled his cheeks and brow. Dernburg
saw this, and his countenance, just before so dark, brightened up, and
there was even a slight smile upon it, as he continued in a milder
tone:

"Well, we shall suppose that it was attachment for me and my family.
Eric and Maia are as devoted to you as if they were your own brother
and sister. Yes, ere you are completely lost to us, you are to know
what you resign, and what a future you slight for the sake of your mad
schemes."

Runeck gave him a questioning glance; he evidently did not guess
whither the words tended.

"You mean----"

"I mean Eric's health, which still costs me constant solicitude. Even
if danger to his life has been averted for the present, he has not come
back from the south cured. He will always need to be spared exertion,
and can never perform the duties of an able-bodied man; moreover, he is
of a soft, dependent nature, accessible to influences of all sorts. I
cannot conceal from myself the fact that he is not qualified to fill
the position that one day will be his, and I want, after my eyes are
closed, to be assured of the perpetuity of the enterprise that I have
established, and this assurance I can only have if it is left in
powerful hands. Nominally, Eric will be my successor; virtually, it
must be some one else--and for this I had calculated upon you, Egbert."

Egbert started, and there was stamped upon his features a surprise that
was almost painful.

"On me! I am to----"

"Some day guide the reins at Odensburg, when they shall drop from my
hands," said Dernburg, finishing his sentence for him. "Of all that I
have reared in my school, only one is of the right stuff for it, and
now he will scatter to the winds all my plans for the future. My Maia
is still half a child, and I cannot foresee whether her future husband
will be fitted for such a position, ardently as I desire it. I am not
of the number of those fools who buy for their daughters the title of
some count or baron; I care only for the man, no matter what station he
occupies, and from what stock he springs, provided that he has secured
the affections of my child."

He said all this slowly and with full emphasis.

That was a dazzling promise, which, although unspoken, yet loomed up
plainly enough before the young man, and which he comprehended only too
well. His lips quivered, impulsively he drew one step nearer, and said
with suppressed emotion:

"Herr Dernburg--send me away!"

Now a smile relaxed Dernburg's features, and he laid his hand upon the
shoulder of the agitated young man.

"No, my boy, I'll do no such thing. We must both make one more trial at
getting along together. First of all, take charge of the Radefeld
aqueduct. I'll see that you are left perfectly untrammeled. If we call
in all available forces, we can finish by the autumn. Will you take
hold?"

Egbert was evidently battling with himself. A few seconds elapsed ere
he answered; then he said in a low tone:

"Herr Dernburg, it is a risk--for both of us!"

"Possibly, but I'll adventure it with you, and I think that there is no
such haste about your making the people happy, that you cannot ponder
the matter for a few months longer. Meanwhile, we declare a truce. And
now, go to Eric! I know he is dreadfully anxious as to the result of
our conversation, and Maia, too, will be rejoiced to see you again, for
you are always out at Radefeld these days. But to-day you are not going
to drive out until evening, and must dine with us. Done!"

He held out his hand, and Egbert silently laid his own within it. It
was plain to see what an effect the goodness of the usually stern,
unyielding man had had upon him, and, more yet, perhaps, the
recognition of what he was worth to the man who thus spoke to him.
Dernburg had adopted the right remedy, the only one that was of avail
here. He required no promise and no sacrifice, both of which would have
been rejected, but he showed implicit confidence in his unruly
favorite, and in so doing disarmed him.




                              CHAPTER IV.

                            ODENSBURG MANOR.


The Dernburg iron and steel works had a worldwide reputation, and could
compare, indeed, with the greatest undertakings of this sort in the old
as well as in the new world.

Odensburg was situated in a wooded valley between mountains, the chief
wealth of which consisted in its inexhaustible mines, and, a generation
before, the father of the present proprietor had established here a
plain foundry and iron factory, that kept growing as the years went by.
But it had only assumed its present truly vast proportions under his
son, who really created the present works, that were upon an
astonishingly vast scale. He had gradually bought in all the mines and
forges of the region round about, absorbing also all the labor at
command, and giving to his undertakings an expansion that controlled
the industrial life of the whole province.

It required, indeed, an unusual amount of energy to devise such an
enterprise, and then carry it on to success, but Dernburg was equal to
the occasion. He had a whole array of engineers, technicians, and
administrative officials; but the director, like the humblest workman,
knew that all the reins joined in the master's hand, who decided
everything important for himself. This master had the character of
being stern and unbending, but likewise just, and if he was conscious
of the whole power of his position, he had an equally high idea of its
duties.

The accommodations that he provided for his workmen were on a scale
commensurate with the other departments of his works, and were
everywhere pronounced to be the most excellent conceivable. They were
only possible for a man who had millions at his disposal, and was not
stingy with his wealth, when the welfare of his subordinates was in
question.

But in return for this, Dernburg demanded complete subjection to his
will, and planted himself like a rock against the advent of modern
ideas, such as that every individual has the right to follow his own
convictions. At Odensburg, strikes, rebellion, and conflicts, such as
are so common in other industrial establishments, were things unknown.
It was well understood that nothing was to be gotten out of the chief
by force, and, with their situations, the people well knew they
lost certain provision, in the future, for themselves and their
families,--thus all those incitements to insubordination, that were not
lacking here either, failed to get foothold, and even if they were
listened to here and there, came to nothing so far as actions were
concerned.

And yet this man, who was the very embodiment of strength, had an only
son for whose life he had perpetually to tremble. From his very infancy
Eric had been puny and delicate, and that fall into the water, caused
by his own imprudence, brought on him a dangerous illness, that lasted
for months. He recovered, it is true, but could never again be called a
well man, and two years before so significant a symptom as hemorrhage
from the lungs had appeared, which necessitated his speedy removal from
the harsh climate of home, and a long sojourn in the South.

The peculiar relation in which the youth who had saved Eric's life
stood to the Dernburg family, had always been a matter of surprise in
the village, and to many of envy as well. Egbert Runeck, the son of a
workman employed in the foundry, had passed his early boyhood amid the
plainest surroundings, and continued to move in the same sphere as his
parents, until nearly grown. If, nevertheless, he learned more than any
of his companions of the same age, he had, in the first place, to thank
the excellent schools, which Dernburg had established for the children
of his employés, and upon which he lavished uncommon care. The rarely
endowed boy, with his unflagging diligence, had already, in earlier
days, attracted the chief's attention, but after he had saved the life
of his only son his future was decided. He shared Eric's lessons, was
treated almost as a member of the family, and was finally sent to
Berlin for the completion of his education.

The Manor-house lay quite apart from the works, on an eminence that
commanded the whole valley. It was an imposing edifice, built in good
style, with a broad terrace, long rows of windows, and a great covered
piazza in front, the roof of which was supported upon columns. Dotted
here and there, ever the broad expanse of lawn and park, were monarchs
of the forest that had been spared in clearing, the long line of wooded
hills in the rear, with their grand old trees, forming an extremely
effective background for the picture. It was a fair and stately abode,
that might well have merited the name of castle, but Dernburg did not
like it at all when they applied that designation to it, and so it was
called in the end as in the beginning, "Odensburg Manor."

The family were accustomed to spend the greatest part of the year here,
although Dernburg possessed several other estates that were more
beautifully situated, and he also had a residence in Berlin. But he
never went to the capital, unless his duty as a member of the diet
called him there; for the most part, too, he only paid short and flying
visits to his other estates. Odensburg needed the master's hand and
eye, and was it not the creation of his own brain? Upon this ground he
was unlimited ruler; here his will alone held sway; here much could be
won or lost; and therefore it had been and continued to be his favorite
abode.

There was as little to be found fault with in the family-life of the
Dernburgs as in their outward surroundings. He and his gentle,
shrinking wife, had been a model married couple, she being in perfect
subjection to her domineering husband. Now his only sister, the widowed
Frau von Ringstedt took the part of lady of the house. She had lived
with her brother for a good many years, and tried to make up to his
children for the loss of their mother, who had died young.

It was towards the end of April, but the weather was still cold and
uncomfortable. In the South, for two months already Spring had
gladdened the earth with her wealth of bloom, but here, at the North,
buds and leaves even now hardly dared to burst their sheaths, and a
gray, cloud-covered sky spanned the somber, dark green foliage of the
fir-trees.

Guests were expected at the Manor to-day. The curtains to the
guest-chambers of the upper story were put far back, and the little
parlor belonging to that suite of rooms had a festal air. Everywhere
bloomed flowers, dispensing their sweet odors around; sweet,
bright-hued children of Spring, that to be sure, even now had to be
grown in hot-houses, decorated in lavish profusion the room evidently
destined for a lady.

Two ladies were in it at this very moment, also. One, the younger,
was amusing herself with teasing a little, soft, white Spitz dog, that
she incessantly egged on to bark and jump, while the other lady
surveyed the parlor with a critical eye, here straightening a chair,
there pushing a curtain back, and once more arranging the pretty
writing-materials on the desk.

"Must you always have that pug about you, Maia?" said she
discontentedly. "He puts everything out of order, and just now came
very near dragging off the table the vase of flowers as well as the
cloth."

"I did lock him up, but he got out and ran after me," cried Maia.
"Down, Puck. You must be good. Miss Friedberg says positively you
must."

She laughingly called him, and, at the same time, cut at the little
beast, with her pocket handkerchief, that, of course tried to catch
hold of the handkerchief with loud barking. Miss Friedberg shuddered
nervously and heaved a sigh.

"And do you call these the manners of a grown-up young lady! I felt
obliged recently to complain to Herr Dernburg, and tell him that
nothing was to be done with you. You will not be anything but the
veriest child, and, if possible, exceed Puck himself in playing all
manner of monkey-tricks. Tell me, if you ever intend to be earnest and
rational?"

"Not for a long while, I hope," declared Maia. "Everything is so
horribly earnest and rational at Odensburg already. Papa, aunt, you,
Miss Leona, and lately Eric has been intolerable, too, sighing and
longing after his lady-love from morning to night. And am I, too, to be
made rational? But we do not like that, do we, Puck? We, at least, want
to be merry." And so saying, she seized Puck by the fore-paws, and made
him dance on his hind-legs, although he gave unmistakable signs of
displeasure.

Maia Dernburg, who objected so emphatically to being rational, was
evidently in the first bloom of young girlhood, not being a day over
seventeen years of age. She was one of those creatures, at sight of
whom the heart bounds, and who gladden the beholder as does bright
sunshine. Her lovely face, that bore only a very remote likeness to her
brother, beamed in the rosy freshness of youth and health, and her
beautiful brown eyes had nothing mysterious about them like Eric's,
They shone clear and bright, dimmed by no shadow in the world. Her fair
hair, that glistened like gold, when the sun's rays struck it, only
confined by a ribbon, fell in rich curls over her shoulders, while a
few tiny ringlets, that would not submit to be bound, enhanced greatly
the beauty of her brow. Her features were still half child-like, and
the delicate, pretty figure had apparently not yet attained its full
height; but this very thing gave to the young girl an unspeakable
charm.

Miss Leona Friedberg, the governess of the young daughter of the
house, who still filled an office that was by no means a sinecure,
although, properly speaking, Maia's education was finished, was about
five-and-thirty years old, and, although no longer young, had an
attractive appearance: a slight, delicate form, with dark hair and eyes
and a somewhat languid expression upon the pale but pleasant features.
She responded to the rash remark of her pupil with a shrug of the
shoulders, and then cast a searching look through the room.

"There, now we are ready! But you have been too extravagant with your
flowers; Maia, the perfume is almost intoxicating."

"Oh! a promised bride must have flowers showered upon her! Cecilia is
to find her future home beautiful, and flowers are the only things,
with which we can welcome her. Papa will not hear of a grand reception
taking place."

"Of course, since the betrothal is to be publicly announced first from
here."

"And then there is to be a betrothal-party and a grand, grand wedding!"
shouted Maia. "Oh! I am so curious to see Eric's betrothed. She must be
beautiful, very beautiful. Eric is continually raving over her to me;
but he does behave so comically as a love-sick swain. He never has a
bright day now, because he is always dreaming of his Cecilia. Sometimes
papa gets seriously vexed over it, and yesterday he said to me: 'You
will behave more sensibly, my little Maia, when you are engaged, will
you not?' Of course I shall: I'll be a model of good sense, I will!"

And to prove this incontestably, she took Puck in her arms, and whirled
about the room with him, like a spinning-top.

"Oh yes! that is very likely!" cried Miss Leona, indignantly. "Maia,
once more, I beseech you not to behave like a wild tom-boy, when your
new connections come. What are the Baroness Wildenrod and her brother
to think of your bringing-up, if they see a young lady almost seventeen
years old behaving in that wild, hoydenish manner."

Maia, meanwhile, had finished her round dance and let loose her Puck,
and now seated herself in a ceremonious manner, before her governess.

"I shall behave so as to satisfy the most fastidious, for I know
the points thoroughly. Miss Wilson she tutored me: that English
governess, you know, with the sallow face, turned-up nose, and no end
of learning--do not look so provoked, Miss Leona, I am not talking
about you!--Miss Wilson was really very tiresome, but I learned to
curtesy as they do at court from her anyhow, look, so!" She made a low
and solemn reverence. "You see I shall make an impression upon my
future sister-in-law with my fine manners, and then I shall fall upon
her neck and kiss her so and so;" and with this she overwhelmed the
unsuspecting lady with impetuous caresses.

"But, Maia, you will choke me to death," cried the horrified lady,
freeing herself with some difficulty. "Why, dear me, it is striking
twelve already! We must go down. I shall only cast one more glance into
the chamber, to see if all there is in order."

She left the parlor, and Maia fluttered down the steps like a
butterfly, Puck bounding after her, as a matter of course. The
dwelling-rooms of the family were in the lower story; there the
large reception hall was likewise decorated, in honor of the expected
guests with tall laurel, and orange-trees and the whole flora, of the
hot-houses. There stood a young man, who seemed to be waiting for
somebody, who, upon seeing the young lady of the house, made a very low
and reverential bow. Maia bestowed upon him a casual nod.

"Good-day, Herr Hagenbach. Is the doctor here too?"

"He is, and at your service, Miss Dernburg," answered the person
interrogated, with a second bow just as low. "My uncle is with your
father, laying before him the week's report of the infirmary, and I--I
am waiting here for him--with your most gracious permission."

"Oh, yes, you have my permission," said Maia, highly amused at this
overstrained reverence, while Puck eyed, with somewhat critical
glances, the stranger whose plaid pantaloons seemed to excite his
displeasure.

Herr Hagenbach was a very young man, with exceedingly light hair, and
exceedingly pale blue eyes, and a timid, awkward gait. The meeting
evidently threw him into great embarrassment, for he reddened and
stammered considerably. Nevertheless, he seemed to feel the necessity
of showing himself versed in the usages of society, for several times
he made the effort to speak in vain, and finally succeeded in getting
out the words:

"May--may I venture to ask after your health, Miss Dernburg?"

"I thank you, my health is perfectly good," answered Maia, the corners
of whose mouth began to twitch.

"I am exceedingly glad to hear it," asseverated the young man. He had
really purposed to say something else, something intellectual,
important, but nothing, alas! occurred to him, and so he continued:

"I cannot tell you how delighted I am to hear it, and I hope Madam von
Ringstedt is well, too."

Maia, with difficulty suppressed a laugh, while she answered his
question in the affirmative. Herr Hagenbach, who was still on his vain
chase after the witty remark, meanwhile persisting convulsively in
inquiring after the health of every member of the family, then asked
for the third time: "And young Herr Dernburg----"

"Has gone to the railroad station," wound up Maia, who could no longer
restrain her merriment. "You may be easy as to the condition of my
brother, however, and of my father, as well--the whole family thank you
for your extraordinary kindness in asking after our health."

Herr Hagenbach's embarrassment increased perceptibly. In his confusion
he bowed down before Puck, who was still devoting his attention to the
plaid pantaloons, and tried to stroke him, while he remarked: "What a
dear little doggie!"

The dear little doggie, however, showed himself very unappreciative of
this caress, and darted, with a loud bark, at the legs of the young man
who jumped back, but Puck sprang after and stuck his teeth into the gay
trousers. The person attacked, who did not dare to drive away the young
lady's dog, took refuge behind the tub of flowers, at his heels his
pursuer, who now aimed his attack at his legs, while Maia, instead of
calling off the dog, was highly amused at the scene.

Fortunately help now came from a different direction. Out of the door
leading to Dernburg's apartments, stepped an elderly gentleman, who,
without further ceremony, seized the still yelping Spitz by the nape of
his woolly neck, and lifted him up, while he said fretfully,

"Why did you not defend yourself, Dagobert? Were you going to let him
tear your pantaloons off you? Puck is such an artful little rascal!"

Dagobert, all out of breath, stood under a laurel-tree, looking greatly
relieved--and now Maia also came forward.

"Let go the evil-doer, do, Dr. Hagenbach. There would really have been
no risk to your nephew's life. In the whole course of the one year of
Puck's life he has never torn a single man to pieces."

"It is enough to make a dead-set at pantaloons, especially when they
are such magnificent ones as the pair that has just been imperiled,"
answered Doctor Hagenbach pleasantly, as he set down the tiny,
struggling creature. "A good-day to you, Miss Maia! No need to ask
after your health, I perceive."

"No, indeed, it has certainly been sufficiently asked after, for one
day," protested the young lady, with a saucy look at Dagobert. She took
her little dog upon her arm and caused it to make a comical bow.

"Beg pardon, Puck, and promise that you will not do it again.
Good-morning, gentlemen, I must go to papa as fast as ever I can." And
with a careless salutation she flew off to her father's rooms.

Dr. Hagenbach, the surgeon for the works and Dernburg family-physician,
was a man of forty-five or forty-six years, whose hair already began to
be tinged with gray here and there, and whose figure tended to rather
too much fullness, was, on the whole a fine-looking man, the perfect
counterpart of the nephew to whom he now turned.

"You have played the part of a veritable hero, to be sure!" mocked he.
"That ungovernable little thing only wanted to play, and you to run
away!"

"I did not want to treat the young lady's pet roughly," explained
Dagobert, solicitously examining his pantaloons, that fortunately had
not been damaged. The uncle silently shrugged his shoulders.

"We shall hardly be able to make the visit to-day to Miss Friedberg,"
said he then. "As I just learned, they are expecting the party from
Nice in about an hour, and the whole house is upset, preparing to
receive them. But since we are here, I'll make the attempt, anyhow, to
speak with the lady; you meanwhile can be recovering composure, both as
to the outward and inner man."

He mounted the stairs, and at the top met the governess, who had just
come out of the parlor. Almost daily she saw the doctor, who, for long
years, had stood upon a very friendly footing with the Dernburg family,
nevertheless, there was a perceptible reserve in her manner as she
returned his greeting. Hagenbach seemed not to remark this, he asked
lightly after her health, listening in the same way to her answer, and
then said:

"I had an especial reason for calling upon you, Miss Friedberg. The
time is badly chosen, it is true, for apparently you, too, are
engrossed by the coming reception of the expected guests, but my
request can be made in a few minutes, so permit me to lay it before
you, just as we stand."

"You have a request to make of me?" asked Leona, with cool surprise.
"Actually?"

"You think I can do nothing but give orders and write prescriptions, I
suppose. Yes, Miss Friedberg, it is the physician's right, he must
preserve his authority under all circumstances, especially when he has
to do with so-called _nervous_ patients."

He emphasized the word, in a way that evidently provoked his hearer,
for she replied tartly:

"Why, I believe your authority remains undisputed, security is given
for that by your very considerate manner of ensuring obedience."

"Even as--I know patients upon whom all love's labors are lost,"
replied Hagenbach composedly. "But--now to the errand that brought me
here. You know my nephew, who has been three weeks at Odensburg?"

"Yes, indeed, your brother's son. The young man has no longer any
parents?"

"No, he is a double orphan, and I am his guardian, having, indeed, to
charge myself entirely with his future, for his parents were so
unmindful of their duty as not to leave him a single penny. They
thought very likely that I, as a confirmed old bachelor, might need an
heir."

Leona's countenance plainly betrayed that she thought this mode of
expressing himself very indelicate; the doctor saw this, too, but
disturbed himself not in the least about it, but continued in the same
tone:

"Dagobert has gone through the gymnasium, and also passed the
examination for admission to college, with much groaning, to be sure,
for he is not a specially clear-headed fellow. Now he looks wretchedly
from sitting so steadily at his books and drudging. Only think, the
fellow is nervous, too, or at least fancies himself to be so, therefore
I have undertaken to cure him. I'll teach him to forget that he has
nerves."

"Then I only hope the young man will survive the cure," said the lady
sharply. "You love heroic measures, doctor?"

"When they are in place, certainly. As for the rest I shall not put an
end to my nephew, as you seem to fear. He is to spend the summer over
here and take a good rest ere he enters the high school. If the fellow
has nothing at all to do, he will fall into folly of various kinds, so
he may as well learn a little about languages, modern languages I mean.
They have drilled him sufficiently in Latin and Greek, but he seems to
know very little French and English, and so I wanted to inquire if you
would give him a little help in this, you speak both fluently, I hear."

"If Mr. Dernburg has no objection----"

"Mr. Dernburg is agreed. I have just spoken with him on the
subject--the only question is, whether you are willing. I know, indeed,
that I am not much in your favor----"

"Pray do not go on, doctor," coolly interposed the lady. "I am very
glad that you give me an opportunity to prove my gratitude for the
medical advice that you have given me several times."

"Yes, in your 'nervous' attacks. Very well, the matter's settled.
Dagobert, boy, where are you hiding? Come up!" He shouted these last
words down the steps in a very peremptory tone.

Leona fairly shrank and said disapprovingly: "You treat the young man
exactly as if he were a schoolboy."

"Am I to put on more than usual ceremony with the youth? He would
evidently like to take the part of a man in society--and at the same
time he blushes and stammers as soon as he addresses a stranger. Well,
there you are, Dagobert! This lady is going to have the goodness to
take you as a pupil. Return your thanks!"

Again Dagobert made an uncommonly low and reverential bow--he seemed to
have made a regular study of it--again blushed and began:

"I am very grateful to the lady--I am perfectly delighted--I cannot
begin to say, how glad I am----" There he stuck fast, but Leona came to
the help of his embarrassment, and turned to him kindly:

"I am not going to be a strict teacher, and I think we shall get on
nicely together, Herr Hagenbach."

"Call him simply 'Dagobert,'" interrupted the doctor in his reckless
way. "He has such an odd name though."

"Have you any objection to make to his name. I think it very pretty."

"I am not at all of that way of thinking," declared Hagenbach, without
observing the deeply injured mien of his nephew. "By rights, he should
have been named Peter, for that is my name, and I am his godfather. But
that was not poetical enough for my sister-in-law, and so she fell upon
Dagobert. Dagobert Hagenbach--there is a jaw-breaker for you!"

A smile, unmistakably derisive, played about Leona's lips, as she
replied: "In that case your sister-in-law was undoubtedly right. The
name Peter has not only poetry opposed to it."

"What objection have you to make to it?" cried the doctor irritably,
while he straightened himself up, ready for combat. "Peter is a good
name, a famous name, a Bible name. I should think the Apostle Peter
would have been a fine enough man."

"But, you have only the quarrelsomeness of the Apostle--nothing else,"
remarked Leona cheerfully. "So, Herr Hagenbach, I shall look for you
to-morrow afternoon, when we shall settle upon the time and plan of
instruction. It will give me pleasure to push you forward as much as
possible."

The shy Dagobert seemed very agreeably touched by this friendliness,
and had just begun again to assure her that he was extremely glad,
etc., when his uncle interposed, in a highly ungracious mood:

"We have detained the lady long enough. Come, Dagobert, else we'll be
caught, and figure as unbidden guests at the family reunion."

So saying, he and his nephew took their leave. As they went downstairs
the latter adventured the remark: "Fräulein Friedberg is a very amiable
lady."

"But nervous and eccentric," growled Hagenbach. "Cannot bear the name
Peter. Why not, I wonder? Had your lamented parents baptized you Peter,
you would have been another sort of a fellow! But so, you look like a
girl with the green-sickness, that was dubbed Dagobert by mistake!"

He placed a very contemptuous emphasis upon the name. Meanwhile, they
had left the house, and now emerged upon the terrace, where they met
Egbert Runeck. The doctor was for passing him by with a short, very
formal salutation, but the young engineer stood still and said:

"I have just been to your house, doctor, to solicit your help. One of
my workmen, through heedlessness, has come by a hurt. It is not
dangerous, so far as I can judge, but medical aid is necessary. I have
brought him to Odensburg and left him in the hospital. Let me commend
him to your particular attention."

"I shall see after him immediately," replied Hagenbach. "Are you on
your way to the Manor, Herr Runeck? They are just now expecting the
party from Nice, and Herr Dernburg will hardly----"

"I know," interposed Runeck. "It was on that very account that I came
in from Radefeld. Good-morning, doctor!" He bowed and went on his way.
Hagenbach looked after him, then struck his cane hard upon the ground,
and said in a low tone:

"That is going it strong!"

"Did you notice, uncle, that he wore a dress-suit under his overcoat,"
remarked Dagobert. "He is specially invited."

"It would really seem so!" ejaculated the doctor wrathfully. "Invited
too, to this reception, which was to be strictly confined to the limits
of the family circle.--Strange things happen at Odensburg!"

"And all Odensburg is talking about it too," said Dagobert, under
his breath, looking cautiously around. "There is only one voice of
fault-finding and regret over this incredible weakness of Herr
Dernburg, for----"

"What do you know about it, saucebox?" continued the doctor. "At
Odensburg nobody either finds fault with the chief or presumes to
regret what he does--they simply obey him. Herr Dernburg always knows
what he is about, and is not going to make any mistake in this case,
either, unless his _protégé_ should, perchance, disappoint him. He too
is one bent on having his own way, like his lord and master, and when
steel and stone meet there are sparks. But, now, make haste and get
home, for I must be seeing after the Radefeld workman."

So saying, he took the path to the infirmary, and dismissed his nephew,
who was evidently rejoiced to be rid of his tyrannical uncle.




                               CHAPTER V.

                             A VICTORY WON.


Runeck had gone into the house and there met Miss Friedberg, who was
just coming downstairs. Here, too, his salutation was not exactly
received with cordiality, and the young lady drew three steps back and
cast a pleading look around, which, in response, brought a somewhat
derisive smile to the lips of the young engineer, as, with the greatest
possible politeness, he inquired whether Herr Dernburg was in his
office.

The lady was saved an answer, for, at that instant the door opened and
Dernburg himself appeared with his daughter, who immediately came
forward to meet Runeck and greeted him with the most unaffected
cordiality.

"Is that you at last, Egbert? We thought you would miss the reception,
we are expecting the carriage every minute."

"I was detained by an accident," answered Egbert, "and moreover had to
drive very slowly, since I had a wounded man with me, else I should
have been here long ago."

He stepped up to Dernburg and reported the case to him; while Miss
Friedberg, who had looked on with real horror at Maia's friendliness
with the engineer, now whispered to her pupil:

"But, Maia, what unbecoming familiarity--you are no longer a child now!
How often have I implored you to remember your years and your position.
Must I really have to appeal to your father's authority?"

Maia paid no heed to this lecture, not the first one which had been
delivered to her on this subject, but waited impatiently until Runeck
had gotten through with his report. Dernburg had himself accurately
informed as to the nature of the hurt, and seemed satisfied when he
heard that it was not dangerous, and that the surgeon had already been
called in; finally he let Egbert off, who now turned to the young girl.

"You hear, Miss Maia, it was not my fault that I am late, so you must
not be angry with me for it."

"I am very angry with you, though, for insisting upon calling me
'Miss,' as long as we have lived in the same house!" cried Maia,
seeming to be highly wrought up. "I'll not stand it, Egbert, do you
hear, I will not, indeed."

She stamped her little foot and pouted charmingly, while her governess
darted a shocked glance at the master of the house. It was high time
for him to interpose his authority, since hers had failed so
ignominiously. But Dernburg appeared not at all to share her
sentiments, for he said with perfect composure:

"Well, if Maia insists upon it, you must let her have her way, Egbert!
You are one of our family, you know."

Miss Friedberg did not trust her own ears--the permission of such a
liberty appeared so monstrous to her, that she gathered up her forces
for resistance.

"Herr Dernburg, I think----"

"What, Miss Friedberg?"

His question was only a short one, spoken quite composedly, but the
governess instantly lost her desire to continue her opposition.

"I think that we had better station a servant on the terrace to let us
know the moment the young gentleman's carriage comes in sight."

"You are right, pray give orders to that effect," said Dernburg: "but I
think we had better go in now, for Eric may be belated likewise."

He moved towards the parlor, Maia with him, but she archly looked back
over her shoulder.

"You have heard your orders, Master Engineer Runeck, and you are to
obey on the spot, I tell you!"

There was such a pretty playfulness in her tone and gesture, that even
the grave Egbert was thawed by it, and answered with pleasant raillery.

Maia was as full of glee as a child over this victory, that put so
effectually to flight the shy reserve of this friend of her youth, and
Dernburg smiled at it. There was an expression of tenderness rarely
seen upon his stern features, as he looked upon the bright and lovely
creature at his side. It was plain to see that Maia was his favorite,
and that she was closer to his heart than her brother.

The patience of the expectant group was not put to too severe a test,
for they had hardly waited a quarter of an hour, before the
announcement was made that the carriage was in sight, and the grand
folding-doors of the entrance hall were flung wide open. There stood
Dernburg with his sister, a dignified old lady rather stiff in her
bearing, Maia at their side, all joy and expectation, while Egbert and
the governess stayed back in the house.

Now the carriage approached, a half-covered landau drawn by a
magnificent pair of bays, and halted in front of the terrace. The
servant opened the carriage-door. Eric was the first to jump out and
help his betrothed to alight, while behind them the tall form of the
Baron became visible.

Dernburg had taken one step forward and stood erect on the threshold of
his house. His demeanor betrayed all the pride of the commoner about to
receive the youthful representative of a long line of noble ancestry,
all the self-satisfaction of a man who has climbed aloft through the
exertion of his individual force. It was he, who did an honor to the
Baroness Wildenrod, when he received her into the bosom of his family.

Cecilia bowed lightly, with the grace peculiar to her, when Eric
presented her to his father. She had thrown back her veil and now
lifted her eyes to that stern countenance, which, however, had no
terrors for her. She knew too well the witchery of her own presence,
and here too it failed not of its effect. Youth and beauty make easy
conquest of even cold and critical age. To be sure Dernburg's glance
for a few seconds, scrutinized her features keenly and questioningly,
but then he stooped down and kissed her brow.

"Welcome to my house, my dear," said he, earnestly, but kindly.

Eric secretly drew a breath of relief. With those words his father's
opposition was given up. Cecilia had been received and recognized by
him as a daughter: here, too, she had conquered by her mere appearance!
He recognized this with joyful pride.

Frau von Ringstedt followed her brother's example and welcomed the
young Baroness with simple cordiality. Wildenrod, meanwhile, exchanged
greetings with the master of the house, while Maia was wholly taken up
with admiration of her beautiful sister that was to be. She forgot
entirely the courtesy, that she had practiced so dutifully, and,
instead, impetuously threw her arms around her neck, with the
exclamation:

"Oh, Cecilia, I never imagined that you were so beautiful!"

Cecilia smiled, accustomed as she was to compliments and flattery of
all sorts, nevertheless, this artless, childish confession delighted
her, and with a gush of real tenderness she kissed "that sweet little
Maia," of whom she had heard Eric talk so much.

"You have showered so many kind attentions upon my sister, dear young
lady," suddenly said a deep but sonorous voice, "that I indulge the
hope that I too may obtain a friendly greeting."

Maia turned around and looked into a pair of deep, dark eyes, that
rested upon her countenance, with an expression that affected her
strangely, almost painfully, and yet she felt that there was admiration
written there. Yet she shrank from that gaze with a slight shudder,
something like a bodeful feeling of dread taking hold upon her, and her
voice had not its usual joyous, saucy sound, when she replied, half
interrogatively:

"Herr von Wildenrod?"

"Yes, it is Oscar von Wildenrod, who begs to be allowed to shake hands
with the young lady of the house."

There was some reproof implied in these words. It was very true that
Maia had not yet offered her hand to this man, who was soon to be a
connection of the family, but now she extended it with hesitation, and
a timidity that was something entirely new to her. Wildenrod stooped
down and pressed his lips to it. This was but a common piece of
courtesy, and yet the young girl trembled at the contact, while her
eyes were spell-bound at the same time, by that gaze which seemed to
exercise a mysterious charm upon her.

Dernburg now offered his arm to the young Baroness, to escort her in,
the Baron stepped up to Frau von Ringstedt, while Maia, with a quick
movement, took her brother's arm. Eric was in the happiest of moods,
and pressed gratefully and tenderly the hand of the sister, who had
received his betrothed with so much affection.

"Does Cecilia please you, then?" he asked. "Have I told you too much
about her?"

"Oh, no, she is far, far prettier than her picture. She is just my idea
of the princess in a fairy tale."

"And what do you think of my future brother-in-law? A chivalrous
looking fellow, is he not, although he is far from being young?"

"I do not know," said Maia, slowly and reflectively. "He has such
singular eyes--so deep and dark--almost evil-looking."

"Little simpleton, I verily believe you are afraid of him," laughed
Eric. "That does not look like our high-spirited little Maia, and Oscar
will not be much edified by this first impression of his character. But
you must get better acquainted with him first; he is excellent company,
and a really brilliant conversationalist."

Maia did not answer forthwith. Afraid? Why, yes, what she had felt was
very like fear, but she was already very much ashamed of this childish
feeling, and darted an extremely ungracious look at the Baron, who was
walking just in front of her with her aunt. All her audacity came back
to her, and tossing her head she called out, laughingly:

"Oh, I shall have to learn what the sensation of fear is, like the hero
in the fairy tale."

                           *   *   *   *   *

The weather, that had looked threatening in the forenoon, had now
became much worse. The mountains were veiled in thick fog, from time to
time showers of rain fell, and the wind howled in the trees of the
park.

It was so much the more comfortable in the large parlor of the
Manor-house, a vast room with lofty ceiling, richly draped and
upholstered in dark crimson, with carved oak furniture, and a huge
fireplace faced with black marble. The colors might have been regarded
as rather dark, but through the wide glass doors that opened upon the
terrace, broad light streamed in. Only a few, but choice, pictures
adorned the walls, and some family portraits. In the fireplace burned a
bright fire and the whole room gave the impression of solid wealth and
perfect comfort.

They had just risen from table and the younger members of the family
seated themselves by the fireside and engaged in lively chat: Frau von
Ringstedt sat upon a sofa in the corner with Miss Friedberg, and the
master of the house was absorbed in serious conversation with Oscar von
Wildenrod. They were talking of the Odensburg works, in which the Baron
showed not only an uncommon interest, but his questions and remarks
also demonstrated, that he was by no means so little versed in such
matters as Dernburg had imagined, and he had just said:

"I had no idea, that you were so familiar with all these things, Herr
von Wildenrod. Such work as ours generally has no charm outside of the
profession. But you seem to be well acquainted with all its bearings."

"I have read a great deal about it," lightly answered Wildenrod. "One
who, like myself, has no regular profession undertakes little private
studies, and I have always had a fancy for mining and the manufactory
of iron. My knowledge, to be sure, represents only the superficial
observations of an amateur. Perhaps you will allow me to perfect them
here, in some degree?"

"It will give me pleasure to act as your guide myself, in this
pursuit," said Dernburg warmly. "In your ride, you only touched upon a
small section of the works, but from the terrace, here, one has quite a
comprehensive view of the whole."

He opened one of the glass doors and stepped out with his guest. The
mist had not yet disappeared, but the works that stretched along as far
as to the foot of the mountain-chain, and the teaming life astir there
that pressed up to the very Manor itself, lost nothing of its grandeur
on that account, which might have struck a stranger as well-nigh
overpowering. It did seem to have made this impression upon the Baron
too, for his eyes turned slowly from one end of the valley to the
other, while he remarked:

"A mighty creation is this Odensburg! Why, you have caused to spring up
here a regular city, in the solitude of mountains and forests. Those
huge buildings there that tower aloft in the center, are----"

"Those are the cylinders and foundries: yonder, farther on, are the
forges."

"And those grounds to the right, that look almost like a colony of
villas?"

"Those are the residences of our officers; the workmen's homes lie on
the other side. To be sure I have only been able to accommodate the
very smallest number in Odensburg, the most of them living about in the
adjoining villages."

"I know, Eric showed me as we rode along. How many workmen, exactly, do
you employ, Herr Dernburg?"

"Nine thousand here in the works: the mines up in the mountains have
their own force of laborers, and their own officers."

Wildenrod looked at the man, who, with such perfect composure and
evidently through no impulse of vanity, unfolded before him the
description of a power and wealth that would have made any other man
dizzy. Each one of those mines and furnaces, that he mentioned so
casually, represented a fortune: of his other estates, that ranked
among the richest in the province, he spoke not at all. And moreover,
there was not the slightest trace of boasting in his words, he simply
gave information asked for, nothing further. The Baron leaned against
the stone parapet and looked out again, then he said slowly:

"I had already heard a great deal of your Odensburg from Eric and
others, but to form a conception of the magnificence of the scale upon
which the enterprise is planned one must see it with his own eyes. It
must be an intoxicating feeling to know one's self to be the absolute
ruler of such a world, and to be able to put ten thousand men in motion
by a single word."

"It took me thirty years to reach that point," answered Dernburg
coolly. "He who has had to battle for every victory won, and mount
upward step by step, is not the one to be intoxicated by success. There
is many a heavy burden to bear, too, which you, Herr von Wildenrod
would hardly take upon yourself. The management of the property
inherited from your father was a load that you shook off."

There was a certain asperity in these last words, that was understood,
too, but Wildenrod evinced no sensitiveness, he quietly answered:

"You mean to reproach me for the course I took Herr Dernburg----"

"Not so; what right would I have to do such a thing? Every man's life
cannot be shaped after the same model. The one seeks his happiness in
work, the other----"

"In idling, do you think?"

"In the enjoyments of life, I wanted to say."

"Nevertheless I expressed your thought, and alas! I must own that you
are right. But I never was attracted by activity on any but a large
scale, and my inheritance was no vast estate adequate to bring this
impulse into play. I could not bear to bury myself in barren monotony
of every-day country life, in the wearisome round of a management that
any good overseer could conduct as well as myself. I was not made for
that sort of thing."

"Why, then, did you not stay in the diplomatic service?" remarked
Dernburg. "Certainly there was a field commensurate with the widest
ambition."

It was an expression of unspeakable bitterness that curled Wildenrod's
lips at this question, to be sure only for a second, when he quietly
replied:

"Personal considerations were to blame. I had had disagreements with
the chief of the bureau, believed myself slighted and overlooked, hence
rashly broke my supposed chains, in a fit of sensitiveness. I was still
young at that time, and the wide world with its dreams of a golden
future, attracted me irresistibly--how the prospect changes, with the
lapse of time! I have long since felt that my life lacked serious
purpose and will feel this yet more sensibly after Cecilia leaves me.
Deep dissatisfaction results from leading such an existence."

"For which you have to bear the sole responsibility, yourself," said
Dernburg gravely. "You are still in the enjoyment of a full manly
vigor, you have an independent fortune--Only come to a resolve."

"Quite right, a resolve is what is needed, and yet that is precisely
what I have not been able to make up my mind to. To me toil and
industry ever presented themselves under the image of what was small
and wearisome. Here, in sight of your Odensburg, I comprehend for the
first time, what a power lies in it, and what incredible results it can
achieve. That could stir me up too, engage my every power, I admit.
Will you kindly afford 'the idler,' Herr Dernburg, a deeper insight
into your world of work? Perhaps he may yet profit by the lesson."

There was something uncommonly winning in this request and the whole
manner of the Baron, and Dernburg was very agreeably impressed by this
candor. His hitherto rather cool civility gave way now to a warmer
tone, as he answered:

"I shall be delighted if Odensburg gives you such lessons. I indeed
have had to plow my way through all the pettiness and weariness of
routine. If I had not bestirred head and arms, probably the simple
forge bequeathed me by my father, would still be standing here--but
then, everybody need not handle a spade with one's own hands. If
everybody only does something, and fills the place allotted him in life
that is the main thing after all."




                              CHAPTER VI.

                 TO WHICH MORE THAN ONE CHARMER CHARMS.


In the parlors, meanwhile, Cecilia formed the center of the group drawn
up around the fireplace. She could be very amiable when she pleased,
and her young sister-in-law was perfectly enchanted by her, while Eric
who, to-day in general, had neither eyes nor ears for any one but his
betrothed, hardly stirred from her side. Only Egbert Runeck took no
part in the conversation. He looked out upon the terrace where those
two gentlemen were engaged in such lively conversation, and then again
his eyes rested upon the young Baroness; but in doing so his brow
contracted almost threateningly.

"No, Eric, you need not try to persuade me that there ever is any
spring here in your fatherland," exclaimed Cecilia laughing. "On the
Riviera flowers have been blooming and diffusing sweet odors for months
past; but since we have crossed the Alps, we have had nothing but
storms and cold. And now, to crown all, this ride to Odensburg!
Everywhere wintry wastes, nothing but the melancholy green of these
everlasting fir-forests, besides mist and clouds and, for a change,
sleety rain! Dear me! how I freeze in your cold, gray Germany."

She shivered, every movement she made, somehow adding charms to her
naïve beauty, and then turned to the fire:

"In your Germany?" repeated Eric with tender reproach in his tone.
"But, Cecilia, it is your Germany as well!"

"Of course it is, but I always have to put myself in mind, before I can
realize that I am actually a child of this hateful North, where I am
such a total stranger. I was hardly eight years old, when my father
died, and two years later I lost my mother also. Then I was carried
first to relations in Austria, and later to Lausanne, where I went to
boarding-school. When I grew up, Oscar took me away, and since then we
have lived mostly in the South. At Rome and Naples, the Riviera and
Florence, in Switzerland, too, we have been a few times, and once in
France. But Germany we have never come near!"

"Poor Cecilia! so you have never had a home!" cried Maia,
compassionately.

Cecilia looked at her in great astonishment; such a life of vanity as
she had led, continually changing both her society and surroundings
seemed to her the only enviable one.

Home! That was quite a novel idea to her. Her eyes took a hasty survey
of the parlor where they sat--yes, indeed, it wore an entirely
different air from the gay and yet commonplace hotel-apartments, in
which she had been living for years.

Those rich dark tapestries and curtains, that oaken furniture, every
piece of which had an artistic value--the family portraits on the
walls, and above all the breath of comfort that pervaded the whole!
But, on the other hand, all this appeared so somber and dark, in the
light of this gray, rainy day--as grave as all the people here, with
the solitary exception of Maia--and the spoilt child of the world
inwardly shuddered at the thought of her bridegroom's "home."

"Do you really and truly spend the largest part of the year here at
Odensburg?" asked she. "It must be very monotonous. You have such a
handsome residence in Berlin, as Eric has told me, and you hardly spend
two months in the winter there. I do not understand it."

"My father think he has no time to move around the world," said Maia,
in a wholly unembarrassed manner--"and I have only been a few times to
the Baths with my aunt and governess. I like it here at Odensburg."

"Maia has not been introduced into society yet," explained Eric. "She
is to come out next winter, for the first time, for she has completed
her seventeenth year. Until now little sister has always had to stay up
in the nursery, even when we had a large reception at home; and as to
city life, she knows nothing of it whatever."

"I went into society when I was sixteen," remarked Cecilia. "Poor Maia,
to think of their keeping you waiting so long--it is incomprehensible?"

The young girl laughed merrily at being the object of such genuine
commiseration.

"Oh, I do not consider that as such a great misfortune, for then I must
'behave' myself as Miss Friedberg calls it, must be so dreadfully prim
and staid, and no longer dance around with Puck--why, Puck! I do
believe you have gone to sleep in broad daylight! Are you not ashamed?
Will you wake up, I say!"

Therewith she rushed to one corner of the parlor, where Puck, greatly
discontented at so little attention being paid him to-day, lay on a
footstool, having yielded himself to the sweetest of slumbers.
Cecilia's lip curled.

"Maia is nothing but a child, sure enough!" said she in an aside to
Eric. "Well, Oscar, has the rain driven you in?"

"Yes, indeed," answered Wildenrod who had just come in. "We have been
inspecting Odensburg, for the present, only from the terrace, but,
Eric, your father has promised to introduce me into his realm within
the next few days."

"Certainly, and Cecilia must get acquainted with it too," chimed in
Eric. "Then we'll drive out, some day, to Radefeld, too, where the
Buchberg is being tunneled." "Egbert," said he, turning to that young
man, who had sat by, a silent listener, "you observe that we are
inviting ourselves to pay you a visit some day."

"I am only afraid that our works will not interest Herr von Wildenrod,"
answered Egbert. "Externally they have very little of interest to show,
and, as for the rest, we have not come to the tunneling yet."

Wildenrod turned to the young engineer, who had of course been
presented to him upon his arrival. He knew through Eric that this
friend of his youth occupied an anomalous position, but his presence
here upon occasion of this exclusively family-party surprised him none
the less, and he knew too how to give expression to this surprise.
Through all the politeness, with which he treated Runeck, there was
ever clearly transparent in his eyes the question: "What business have
you here?"

"You sketched the plan for these works, did you not, Herr Runeck?" he
asked. "Eric has spoken to me about it, and I am glad to make the
acquaintance of so clever an engineer."

The words sounded very obliging, but the "engineer" was emphasized and
thereby the barrier raised that separated the son of the worker in iron
from the family of the millionaire, however much they might see fit to
ignore this at Odensburg. Egbert bowed just as obligingly, while he
replied:

"I have already had the pleasure of making your acquaintance, Herr von
Wildenrod."

"Mine? I do not remember that we ever met before."

"That is comprehensible, for it took place at a large party--three
years ago in Berlin--at the house of Frau von Sarewski."

The Baron pricked up his ears, and fixed his keen eyes searchingly upon
the young engineer, but at the same time a mocking smile played about
his lips.

"And so you saw me there? Really, I would not have expected you to move
in such circles."

"Nor do I, in fact. It was an exceptional case, and I was not there as
a guest, either. Perhaps you may remember the circumstance if I recall
the day to your mind--it was the twentieth of September."

The hand which rested on the back of Cecilia's chair trembled slightly,
and at the same time there flashed from Wildenrod's eyes a glance of
suspicion, that was threatening as well, but it produced no effect upon
the perfectly unmoved features of Runeck. It lasted, indeed, only a
second; then the Baron said carelessly:

"You really expect too much of my memory. I have really been introduced
to so many people traveling about as much as I have done these last ten
years, that I no longer distinguish individuals. What circumstance do
you allude to?"

He spoke with perfect composure, not the slightest change being
perceptible in his features, although those dark gray eyes of his were
fastened fixedly upon Runeck, with an expression of threatening
determination.

"If you have forgotten it, sir, it is hardly worth while to recur to
it," said Egbert coolly. "But your features and individuality impressed
themselves upon me in a manner that I have never forgotten."

"Very flattering to me!" Wildenrod bowed haughtily to the young
engineer, and then turned his back upon him. He proceeded to the other
end of the parlor, where Maia was tugging at the white coat of her pet,
that had by no means taken in good part being suddenly disturbed in its
siesta.

The game was at an end, though, when the Baron came up, and Fräulein
Maia drew herself up, in a way that said plainly she was ready for
battle, for she felt the urgent necessity for having an act of oblivion
cast over her former childish timidity. No opportunity for this had
been given at dinner because Frau von Ringstedt had absorbed the entire
attention of the new family connection who was seated beside her: but
now he was to see that nobody was in the least afraid of him; now she
was fully determined to let him see that she could hold her own.

Alas! Oscar Wildenrod paid no attention whatever to this warlike mood,
he began, in all innocence, to tease, first the little dog, and then
its mistress, and, without any embarrassment whatever, took a place at
her side.

Then he began to chat of all imaginable things, in a half playful, but
uncommonly fascinating manner, that was quite new to the young girl. He
quietly took it for granted that the connection which was so soon to
exist between their families justified him in approaching her with the
freedom of a relation, and he gently and naturally asserted this claim,
and finally set himself seriously to work to gain Puck's friendship,
and was fully successful in the effort.

All this was not without its influence upon Maia, who gradually gave up
standing on the defensive, and became more sociable. She, too, began to
talk now and tell about all sorts of things. The conversation was in
full swing, when Wildenrod suddenly asked, quite irrelevantly:

"So, you are no longer afraid of me?"

"I?" The young lady was disposed to contradict what was said
indignantly, and yet could not hinder the hot blood from mounting to
her cheeks.

"Yes, you, Fräulein Dernburg! I plainly saw it when we exchanged our
first greeting--or will you deny what I say?"

The blush upon Maia's face grew still deeper. He had only seen too
clearly, but she was annoyed at this inconvenient sharp-sightedness on
his part, and thought it very inconsiderate in him thus to take her to
task.

"You are only making sport of me, Herr von Wildenrod!" said she
indignantly.

He smiled, and it was remarkable what an improvement it wrought in his
face. That dark fold between his eyes seemed to smooth down, all the
sharp, stern lineaments softened, and his voice, too, sounded strangely
soft, as he replied:

"Do I really look as if I would make sport of you? Can you really
believe it?"

Maia looked up at him. No, those eyes were not mocking, at least not
now, but again they exerted the same spell over her as they had done
awhile ago, and she was helpless to resist it--and there again was that
inexplicably oppressive sensation. No answer occurred to the young
girl, and she only gently shook her head.

"No?" asked Wildenrod. "Well then, prove to me that the guest who has
arrived to-day does not inspire you with fear by gratifying me in a
request--will you?"

"I must first know what your request is," said Maia, taken captive, and
with a vain attempt at resuming her old petulant tone. Wildenrod
stooped down to her, and his voice sank into a low whisper.

"Everybody here calls you Maia, everybody in this circle has the right
to address you simply by your name, which is the prettiest one in the
world. Even that Herr Runeck has been granted that privilege--only I am
left out in the cold. I am not so bold as to claim the same right as
Cecilia, who uses the sisterly 'thee' when addressing you, but--may I,
too, call you Maia?"

He had taken her hand, as though accidentally. His request was neither
so very presumptuous nor so unusual, the elderly man might certainly be
allowed this freedom in addressing a girl of seventeen, of whose
brother he was soon to be the brother-in-law--nevertheless, Maia
delayed her answer, delayed so long, that he asked reproachfully:

"Do you refuse me?"

"Oh, no, certainly not, you are Cecilia's brother, Herr von Wildenrod."

"Yes, indeed, and Cecilia's brother has another name, which he would
also like to hear called by you, Maia,--my name is Oscar."

No answer followed, but the little hand quivered within his grasp and
tried to free itself, but in vain, he held it fast.

"You will not?"

"I--I cannot!" There was an almost agonized repulse in these words.
Oscar smiled again.

With a gentle pressure he released her hand. Maia! How strangely he
pronounced the name, it was a sound that penetrated the young girl with
a feeling never experienced before, at once sweet and torturing, but
she breathed deeply, as though relieved, when Eric approached and said
playfully:

"I do believe, Oscar, you are slyly paying court to our little Maia."

"For the present I am only paving my way to the intimacy of future
relationship," was the cheerful reply. "Maia has just given me leave to
give up addressing her formally as Miss Dernburg. You have no
objection, I hope."

"Not the least," said Eric, laughing. "You will play the part of uncle
to our little girl, with great dignity, I fancy. Only see to it that
you treat her with all due deference!"

A singular expression flitted across Oscar's features at this harmless
conception, but he made no response to it. Maia had not heard this last
remark, for she had hurried to her father, who had joined the two older
ladies. With an almost impetuous movement, she cuddled up to him, as
though she sought shelter in his arms, shelter from some unknown peril,
that still lay far away in the dim distance, and which, nevertheless,
cast a shadow athwart the glowing present.

Cecilia still sat by the fireside, and Runeck, too, had not left his
place--the "stony guest," as Cecilia had awhile ago styled him in a
whisper to her betrothed. Egbert's silence had indeed been striking, at
least to Eric and Maia, Baron Wildenrod thought it natural enough under
the circumstances. The young man evidently felt out of place in the
circle, to which he did not belong of right, and the favor evinced him
by this invitation evidently oppressed more than it gratified him.
Cecilia fully shared her brother's sentiments on this point, and, like
him, up to this time, she had only taken very casual notice of the
young engineer. And yet it had not escaped her that he was observing
herself; she took this, of course, for admiration, and therefore, in
the most gracious manner, now opened a conversation with him.

"You were already acquainted with my brother, it seems, Herr Runeck?
That is a remarkable coincidence."

"Hardly, in a large city," was the quiet reply. "As for the rest it was
only a very brief interview that we had, of which, as you have heard,
Herr von Wildenrod thought no more."

"I remember myself, he was in Berlin three years ago. He came from
there to Lausanne, to take me away from school, but, I believe, Oscar
is not particularly fond of the Capital. You were there quite a long
while, were you not?"

"Several years. I studied at Berlin."

"Ah, indeed! Well, I shall make acquaintance with it, too, next winter,
at Eric's side. Society must be brilliant there, especially in the
height of the season."

"Alas! I can give you no information on that point," said Egbert
coolly. "I was in Berlin, to study and to work."

"But that does not consume all of one's time?"

"Oh, yes, noble lady, every bit of one's time."

This answer sounded very positive, almost uncouth: it thoroughly
displeased Cecilia, but yet more he displeased her who had given
utterance to it, and whom she took this opportunity of observing
closely for the first time. This friend of Eric's youth was--coldly
considered--anything but attractive in personal appearance. It is true,
that his tall, commanding figure made a certain impression, but it was
not at all suited to the parlor. Add to this, those homely, irregular
features, where everything was stamped with such sharpness and
hardness, and the stiff, disobliging manner, that did not soften even
now, when one was exerting herself to draw him into conversation. Why,
that answer sounded almost as if this Runeck would like to teach a
lesson to her, Baroness Wildenrod! She remarked, to her astonishment,
that here was nothing of timidity and conscious inferiority, and now,
too, she awoke to the fact that it was not admiration which spoke in
those cold, gray eyes, but rather enmity. But what would have chilled,
and perhaps dismayed, any one else, was just the thing that attracted
Cecilia Wildenrod, and so, instead of letting the conversation drop,
she took it up again.

She propped her pretty foot against the fender and leaned far back in
the arm-chair, her attitude being a negligent, but infinitely graceful
one. The late afternoon hour and the dark rain-clouds out of doors had
already produced twilight in this part of the parlor, and the fire,
sometimes flaring up and again dying down, cast its light upon the
slender form that sat there, draped hi a light silk gown, covered with
lace, falling upon the roses that she wore on her bosom, and upon the
beautiful head that was pillowed upon a rich crimson cushion.

"Dear me! how shall I accommodate myself to this Odensburg?" said she
pettishly. "Every third word here is work! They seem, in general, not
to have another idea. I, frivolous worldling that I am, feel quite
intimidated by it and know I shall inevitably fall into disgrace with
my father-in-law-to-be, who is himself a first-class genius of work."

She spoke with an arrogance that challenged reply. It was the tone that
had been deemed piquant and fascinating in the sphere of society in
which she had been accustomed to move. But it made no impression here:
Runeck seemed to be utterly insensible to it.

"Certainly, Herr Dernburg is a model to us all in this respect,"
answered he. "I certainly do not anticipate seeing you contented at
Odensburg, Baroness Wildenrod. But surely, Eric must have given you a
fair picture of it, ere you made up your mind to come here."

"I believe that Eric's taste is the same as mine," remarked Cecilia.
"He likewise loves the joyous, sunny South, and raves of a villa
on the shores of the blue Mediterranean, beneath palm-trees and
laurel-bushes."

"Eric was sick and suffered under the severe climate of his native
land, which, nevertheless, he loves: the South has restored him to
health. As for the rest, he is rich enough to purchase a place anywhere
in Italy that he chooses, and to pass there his time for recreation,
although his regular home must continue to be at Odensburg."

"Do you think that so absolutely necessary?" Slight derision was
perceptible in the tone of her question.

"Most assuredly, for he is the only son, and one day must take charge
of the works. That is a duty which he cannot shirk and of which he as
well as his future wife must render an account."

"Must?" repeated Cecilia. "That seems to be your favorite word, Herr
Runeck. You use it at every opportunity. I cannot bear that
uncomfortable word, and I do not believe I shall ever be reconciled to
it, either."

Egbert seemed to find no special satisfaction in this sort of dialogue,
his reply having a touch of impatience about it, that was entirely too
suggestive of faultfinding.

"We shall do better not to dispute over it. We belong to two entirely
different worlds, and so, naturally, do not understand one another."

Cecilia smiled at having finally moved this man from his imperturbable
equilibrium, which she interpreted to almost as an insult. She had not
been accustomed anyone denying her the toll of admiration, or speaking
of "must," to her. The fire again blazed up brightly, and while Runeck
stood aside in the shade, the reflection fell full upon the beautiful
girl, who still reclined in her chair, in the same attitude as a while
ago. There was something ensnaring in the flickering play of the
flames, in the abrupt transition from light to shade; something that
was akin to the appearance of the girl herself, who now looked up at
the young engineer with moisture dimming the luster of her dark and
glowing eyes.

"Why, there may be a bridge that can unite these two worlds," said she
playfully. "Perhaps we may come to understand each other--or, think you
that it is not worth the trouble?"

"No."

This "no" had a perfectly frigid sound. Cecilia suddenly straightened
herself up and darted a look of withering anger upon Egbert.

"You are very--candid, Herr Runeck."

"You misunderstand me, Baroness Wildenrod," said he calmly. "I meant,
of course, that it was not worth your while to descend to so inferior a
world--nothing more."

Baroness Wildenrod bit her lip. He had parried her thrust in masterly
style, and yet she knew what he had meant, she understood the bitter
taunt, hidden behind his words. What sort of a man was this, that dared
thus to confront the betrothed of his best friend, the future daughter
of the house, in which he had received so many favors? Previously she
had hardly had a glance to bestow upon this engineer in his subordinate
station, now a burning sense of hostility seized her--he was to suffer
for having provoked her!

She arose with a brisk movement and turned to Eric and her brother, who
were talking together. Egbert remained where he was, but his eyes
followed the brother and sister, while he murmured under his breath:

"Poor Eric, you have fallen into bad hands!"

Night had come and the family had already separated. They wanted their
guests--who had made rather a fatiguing journey that day--to retire
early to rest, but this they had not yet done.

In the boudoir, attached to the suite of company-rooms, were Oscar and
Cecilia Wildenrod to be found. They were alone. The perfume of the
flowers with which Maia had given so graceful a welcome to her future
sister-in-law, still filled the room, but neither of this pair paid any
heed to it. Cecilia stood in the center of the room, but the smile that
she had worn and the amiability which she had manifested all day had
both vanished now. She looked excited, provoked, and her voice had the
intonation of suppressed passion.

"And so you are not content with me, Oscar? I should think that I had
done everything possible to be done this day, and still you have fault
to find with me."

"You were too incautious in your expressions," criticised Oscar; "much
too incautious. You hardly took the trouble to conceal your disapproval
of Odensburg. Take heed, Eric's father, is very sensitive on that
point, anything like that he does not pardon."

"Am I, for whole weeks here to act a farce, and pretend to be
enthusiastic over this abominable place, that is far more unbearable
even than I had supposed? One is cut off here and thrust out of the
world, as it were, buried between mountains and dark forests. Then the
immediate proximity of those works with their noise and their crowd of
coarse laborers, but above all these people here! Little Maia is the
only one endurable. My future father-in-law, though, seems to have a
very domineering nature, and tyrannizes over his whole household. I
shudder before his stern countenance. What a look he gave me upon my
arrival, as though he wanted to look me through and through. And that
tiresome Frau von Ringstedt with her prim state, and that just as
stupid pale-looking governess--but, above all, that so-called friend of
Eric's youth, who said things to me--" she suddenly broke off, and with
a pettish movement threw her fan upon the table. Wildenrod had quietly
listened to all this harangue, without making any attempt to soothe
her, at those last words, however, he grew attentive.

"What things?" he asked quickly and sharply. "What did he say to you?"

"Oh, not so much in words, but I knew perfectly well what was implied,
although not expressed. If we had not just met for the first time, I
should believe that he hated both you and me. There was something so
inimical in his cold, steel-gray eyes, when he talked to me and they
had precisely the same expression when he mentioned, to you, your
having met in Berlin."

Wildenrod gazed upon his sister in surprise, he had never before
perceived that she was gifted with such keen powers of observation.

"You seem to have been studying him very closely," he remarked. "As for
the rest, you have judged quite correctly. This Runeck is extremely
disagreeable, perhaps even dangerous. We'll be even with him though."

"Once for all, I cannot stand such surroundings!" cried Cecilia with
renewed heat. "You have always told me that Eric would live with me in
the great world, we have never had any other idea, but here there seems
to be no talk of any such thing. They regard it as a matter of course
that we should take up our residence at Odensburg, and have ruthlessly
made the announcement to me already. Upon my marriage, am I to renounce
everything that lends life its charm for me, and under the oversight of
my high-and-mighty father-in-law, learn housekeeping and all the other
domestic virtues that he seems to rate so high, and for my reward to be
allowed a daily promenade through his works? For there seems to be no
talk here of any other pleasure."

"The question is not one of pleasure but necessity," said Oscar in a
low sharp tone: "I thought I had made that sufficiently clear to you
when we accepted the invitation. Already, on the day of your
engagement, you forced me to give you a hint of the truth, that I would
have preferred to conceal from you, and since then you have learned all
without reserve. Our fortune has been all lost, how and when does not
concern you, but what you have to deal with is the fact. I have
hitherto managed to maintain ourselves in handsome style, through what
sacrifices I alone know; but there comes a time when even the last
resources fail, and to that point we have now arrived. If you cast
away, through your own folly, the brilliant future that I have opened
up to you by tying this knot, know that you will no longer have any
pretension to what you call life: then you must descend to an existence
of poverty and privation--must I once more recall this to your mind?"

This harsh exhortation had its effect: poverty and privation were two
things from which Baroness Wildenrod shrank, although she had only a
misty idea of what they were. Already the bare idea that she might be
forced to give up the brilliant life that she had hitherto led
horrified her, and broke down her resistance. She bowed her head and
was silent, while her brother continued:

"I have hitherto treated you, for the most part, as they do spoiled
children, not deeming it needful to show you the serious phase of life;
but now I require--do you hear, Cecilia, I _require_--that you submit
absolutely to my will, and do as I shall direct. You are not married
yet, and Dernburg is just the man to break the engagement at the last
minute, if there should arise in his mind grave doubts as to its
expediency. You have to cultivate his favor first of all, for Eric is
altogether passive in his disposition, and will always submit to his
father's will. It is all-important to be prudent! Be assured of one
thing--_my_ plans are not to be thwarted through your self-will--you
know me!"

This was a tone of command, of menace, and Cecilia looked up at her
brother with shy eyes. It was not the first time, that he had bent her
under his will, but so earnestly and darkly he had never spoken to her
before. She heaved an impatient sigh and threw herself into a chair;
but she did not think of making any further opposition.

The pause of a second ensued, when Oscar stepped up to her, and his
voice was milder as he said:

"How you do allow yourself to be carried away by your feelings! Other
girls would give anything in the world to change places with you;
thousands at this moment, are envying your fate, while you are disposed
to throw away your good fortune, like a toy that did not please
you--yours is not a calculating nature."

"But you are!" said Cecilia, in an angry and embittered tone.

"I?" Again Wildenrod's face darkened. "I am and have been many a thing
that my spirit revolted against. He who has battled with the waves of
life for twelve long years, like myself, knows only one watchword. Stay
on top, at any price! Thank God, that you have been spared this battle,
and thank me for landing you safe on shore ere you knew of the perils
to which you were exposed. You are to enter a highly-respected family,
your marriage will give you a right to almost countless wealth, and
your future husband knows no greater happiness than to gratify your
wishes--I think that is enough."

"And what will you do when I am married?" asked Cecilia, struck by his
words, that she only half understood.

"Commit that to me!" A fleeting smile flashed across Oscar's features.
"At all events, I do not intend to live on my rich sister's charity,
for I was not made for such a fate--Now, good-night, child; you will be
more prudent in future, and never let a hint drop of Odensburg not
being to your mind. I hope you will need no second lecture."

He lightly touched her brow with his lips and passed into his own
chamber that adjoined the boudoir. Out of doors it was already dark,
and the Manor was wrapt in silence and gloom, only a candle glimmering
here and there in the rooms of individuals. The wind had lulled, and
profound quiet reigned in the immediate environs.

But over yonder at the works there was still astir that mighty
throbbing life, that rested not fully, even during the night, and if by
day it was heard only in occasional, far-away sounds, now every noise
made there was distinctly heard. At times there was a great glare of
light from the blazing forges, while here and there one of the huge
chimneys sent up a flashing spark to the starless sky, and there where
the furnaces lay, the vaporous wreaths of smoke were reddened by the
glow of the fire. It was a sublime and fascinating spectacle.

Oscar Wildenrod seemed to find it so, too, for he stood long at the
window and gazed out. The admiration that he had expressed in the
afternoon had not been assumed. His breast heaved with the deep breath
he drew, and he said in an undertone:

"To be the lord and master of such a world--to move thousands by a
single word of power! How that man stood on the threshold of his own
house when he received us--like a prince and ruler, and such in fact he
is. Success no longer intoxicates him--me it will intoxicate."

He drew himself up, proudly, to his full height, but all of a sudden a
more tender expression rested upon his features, while he continued
almost inaudibly:

"What a sweet pretty child that Maia is! So pure, so untouched by any
shadow--and to the hand of that child is attached the other half of
this power and this wealth."

He opened the window and leaned far out; restless, ambitious thoughts
were working in the soul of this man, while he looked down upon the
vast establishment at his feet. The rash gambler was not satisfied with
his one lucky stroke, he was making ready for a second which was to be
his master-stroke. Oscar von Wildenrod was not indeed made to live upon
the bounty of his sister.

Cecilia, too, had not yet gone to rest, but, nestling among the
cushions of an arm-chair, still sat motionless in the same spot that
her brother had left her. She had taken the roses from her bosom and
was heedlessly pulling them to pieces. They had been a present from
Eric; he had welcomed her with them upon her arrival. Magnificent, pale
yellow roses to remind her of their betrothal-day, when she had worn
these same flowers. The withered leaves showered down upon her gown and
upon the floor, but the intended bride heeded them not; she gazed into
space like one lost in dreams. Evidently the visions that haunted
her were of no friendly nature. Upon her forehead between those
finely-arched eyebrows, there was again that fold, the significant
feature which she had in common with her brother, and there, too, were
his eyes that looked from her countenance--at this minute, it was easy
to see that the two were of one blood.




                              CHAPTER VII.

                        CECILA VISITS RADEFELD.


The engagement of the young heir of Odensburg to Baroness Wildenrod had
now indeed been announced and had excited great surprise in
neighborhood circles, that had always supposed that in this matter,
too, Dernburg would act as his son's guardian, and have the first word
to say as to this union, and now Eric had made his own choice, far away
at the South, without asking either his advice or permission. The
beauty of the bride-elect, her good old name and her evidently
brilliant fortune and connections, lent to this choice, it is true, the
prestige of a thoroughly suitable one. And the father's consent was
taken as a thing for granted.

At present, Cecilia had no ground for complaint as to the dreaded
solitude of Odensburg, for her betrothal made the usually quiet Manor
the scene of a constant round of social festivities. The engaged couple
had made the usual visits, and now received return-calls from all the
neighbors, by far the larger number of whom were the families of the
large landed proprietors of that district. There were numerous
invitations, larger and smaller entertainments, of which Cecilia was
ever the center of attraction. Here, too, homage was paid to her
wherever she appeared, and happily Eric had not the foible of jealousy.
So swam Cecilia with full sails, upon the stream of satisfaction; new
acquaintances and surroundings, new triumphs that hardly allowed her,
for the moment at least, to miss the life to which she was accustomed.

The appearance of Baron von Wildenrod made the most favorable
impression on every one. His distinguished appearance and his gifts as
a brilliant conversationalist in general, won the favor of every one
that he wanted to win, and here he was treated with double honor, as
the future relative of the Dernburg family. Already, during the few
weeks of his sojourn here, he had attained to a prominent position in
these circles, and well knew how to maintain it.

At Radefeld the works had been forwarded with all the forces available.
The men, for the most part, had been accommodated in the adjacent
village, and the chief engineer had also taken up his quarters there,
in order to avoid the loss of time in a daily ride to and from
Odensburg. He usually went there only once or twice a week to give in
his report to his chief.

Radefeld, indeed, was only a little village in the woods, and a stay
there was not comfortable in the least. The two confined rooms in which
Egbert lodged at a peasant's house, were meanly furnished, but the
young engineer was not a Sybarite. He had taken nothing with him from
his ordinary residence but his books, his plans, and drawings, and as
for the rest, contented himself with things as he found them.

Runeck was usually to be found early at his place of business. But
to-day he had had a visitor from the city. His guest, a man of about
fifty years, with sharply-cut features and dark eyes, sat in the old
arm-chair, that here had to take the place of a sofa. The two seemed to
have had an earnest and interesting conversation.

"As for the rest," said the stranger, "I should like to ask why you so
seldom come to town now? You have not been there for weeks, and if one
wants to have a talk with you, he has to institute a veritable search
after you."

"I have a great deal to do," answered Egbert, who stood at the window,
with a rather clouded brow. "You see for yourself how immersed I am in
work."

"Work?" mocked the other. "I should think that _our_ work was more
important than digging and rooting here in the woods. You contrived the
plan, so I learn. Will you, perhaps, earn another million for your
chief to add to the other millions that he already has?"

"That is not the question, but whether I shall perform a duty that I
have undertaken to perform," was the brief reply. "The execution of
this plan was properly the upper-engineer's work, and I have to justify
the confidence that called me to do it, in his stead."

"To chain you fast here at Radefeld, so that you will not be dangerous
at Odensburg! The old man is not stupid, nobody can accuse him of that,
he always knows very well what he is about, and you may depend he knows
a thing or two about your proclivities already."

"Be done with your insinuations, Landsfeld," interposed Egbert
impatiently, "of course Dernburg knows, from my own lips. He called me
up for a talk, and I gave him my views without any reserve. I naturally
expected my dismissal after that--but instead the superintendence of
the Radefeld water-works was entrusted to me."

Landsfeld started and directed a searching glance at the young
engineer.

"That is remarkable, to be sure, it does not look like the old man! He
must either be perfectly infatuated with you, or he has some object to
subserve. He is capable of anything. As for the rest, your candor was
very out of place in this case, for now, of course, your movements at
Odensburg will no longer be free. You have managed very awkwardly,
young man!"

"Was I to deny the truth?" asked Egbert with knitted brow.

"Why not, if it could serve a good purpose?"

"Then look out for some one else who is more practiced in lying! I
regard it as cowardice, to deny one's convictions and one's party, and
acted accordingly."

"That is to say, you have again followed your own head, and acted in
utter defiance of orders. Odensburg is your field of labor, you are to
get the fellows there to affiliate with you, instead of which, here you
are quietly constructing water-works at Radefeld, at the same time that
you are being coddled in the so-called Manor-house, and yet you know
perfectly why we sent you here!"

"And you know that I resisted from the very beginning, that finally
only a direct order from headquarters forced me into line."

"Alas! I suppose you confided that to your chief, too?" The question
came in the sharpest of tones.

"No," answered Runeck coldly; "he attributed my return to an entirely
false motive, and I left him in his error. Never again would I have
gone voluntarily to Odensburg, and I cannot stay here either, my
position is an untenable one, as I foresaw."

"And nevertheless you will be obliged to remain," said Landsfeld dryly.
"This Odensburg is like an impregnable fortress, that defies all
attacks. The old man has made his people tame, with his schools and
infirmaries and funds for the poor, they dread to lose the good berths
they have, and, above all, they have an incurable fear of their
tyrant--the cowards! However often we applied the lever, nothing was to
be done, he has made them thoroughly suspicious of our agitators. You
are a child of a workman, have grown up in their midst, and even now
have intimate relations with their chief. They will listen to you, and
follow you too, if it comes to that."

"And to what end?" asked Runeck moodily. "I have often enough explained
to you that a strike at Odensburg would be perfectly futile. Dernburg
is not a man to be coerced: I know him--he would rather close his
works. He is a man after this sort, that he would rather take any loss
upon himself than to yield, and he is rich enough to resist to the
uttermost."

"Just for that very reason he must be brought down from his throne of
infallibility! He shall see, that there are men who dare to make head
against him, puffed up as he is, sitting there on his millions in
luxury and idleness, while----"

"That is not true!" burst forth Egbert passionately, "and you know that
what you say is a lie! Dernburg works more than you and I. Often enough
have I been compelled to admire his immense strength and wonderful
powers of endurance, that actually put to the blush the youngest among
us. And he seeks recreation only in his family-circle. Once for all,
I'll not stand having that man slandered in my presence."

"Oho, you speak in that tone, do you?" cried Landsfeld, now irritated
in his turn. "You take sides with him against us? It only shows how
tame living the life of a lord makes one, if he once gets a taste of
it."

"Take heed, else you might learn that I am anything but tame," said
Egbert, more quietly, but in a threatening tone. "I repeat it, I'll
submit to nothing of the sort, for it has nothing to do with our cause.
Either you will omit these personal attacks upon Dernburg or----"

"Or?"

"I'll never more cross your threshold and shall know how to protect
mine from things that I _will_ not hear."

Landsfeld shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that he did not
care.

"That means, in other words, that you will put me out of doors? Right
friendly and brotherly, to be sure, but we will not dispute about that.
It is not our way anyhow to pass many compliments. You are coming to
our next meeting, are you not?"

"Yes." This word sounded harsh and sullen.

"Well, I am going to depend upon that. An important matter is to be
brought up. We expect a few comrades from Berlin, and it is likely you
will be taken pretty sharply to task, on account of your inactivity up
to this time."

"Until next week then!"

He nodded shortly and went out in front of the house, however, he stood
still and sent back a look of hatred, while he murmured in an
undertone:

"If we did not need you, absolutely need you! But it is impossible to
get along without you at Odensburg. Just wait though, my young man, and
we'll see if we cannot curb that haughty spirit of yours!"

Egbert, being left alone, stood in the middle of the room, with fist
doubled up and deeply-furrowed brow. It was manifest that a fierce
battle was being waged in his soul, but suddenly he straightened
himself up and stamped with his foot, as though he would quell by main
force the storms that were raging within.

"No, and again no! I have made my choice and will abide by it!"

The Radefeld estate, ordinarily a quiet, lonely valley in the midst of
a forest, now again resounded with the noise of laborers who were hard
at work. Everywhere there was shoveling, ditching, and blasting; trees
and shrubs fell beneath the stroke of the ax; the indefatigable host
having already progressed as far as the foot of the Buchberg, the
tunneling of which was the enterprise afoot.

Runeck, who had come later than usual, stood upon an eminence and
thence directed a tremendous blast. In obedience to his order, all the
workmen had retired from the neighborhood of the mine, which now
exploded with dull, muffled sounds. The cliff against which the work of
destruction was aimed, was split in two, one part still standing erect,
while the other fell with a crash; the earth round about trembled when
the mighty boulders rolled heavily down.

The group of laborers at the foot of the eminence dispersed: Runeck,
too, left his place, to examine closely what had been effected, when an
old inspector stepped forward and announced:

"Herr Runeck--the master's family from Odensburg."

Egbert looked up, in expectation of seeing the wagon of Dernburg, who
frequently came out to inspect the condition of the works, but suddenly
gave such a violent start that the old man looked up in surprise.

Over at the entrance to the ravine Eric Dernburg and Cecilia Wildenrod
had halted, on horseback, while the groom had dismounted, and had
firmly by the bridle their animals, who seemed to have been made unruly
by the noise of the blasting. The young engineer, meanwhile, had
quickly recovered from his surprise, and went across to pay his
respects to his waiting visitors. Eric cordially stretched out his
hand.

"We have kept our word, Egbert, and come upon you without any warning.
Will you allow us an insight into your province?"

"I shall be delighted to be of the least service," replied Runeck,
while he bowed to the young lady, who now gracefully and lightly swung
herself out of the saddle, and in doing so hardly touched the proffered
hand of her betrothed.

"We stopped at Radefeld and through the open windows cast a glance in
at your lodgings, Herr Runeck," said she. "Dear me, what surroundings!
Do you really intend to spend the whole summer there?"

"Why not?" asked Egbert composedly. "We engineers are sometimes here,
sometimes there, and have to accept work wherever it is offered."

"But you have your comfortable home at Odensburg, and a carriage is
always at your disposal. Why do you not stay there?"

"Because then I would daily lose three hours in going and coming. I
have my books and works at Radefeld, and as for the rest I am entirely
independent of my surroundings."

"Yes, you are a Spartan by constitution, physically as well as
intellectually," said Eric with a sigh. "I wish that I could do like
you, but, alas! there is no chance of that. I have gotten too much
spoiled at the South and must now do penance."

He drew himself up and shivered; evidently he suffered more from his
native climate than he himself was willing to confess. He looked pale
and worn, the ride through the woods seeming to have been an exertion
to him rather than a pleasure.

So much the more blooming appeared the young lady by his side. For her
the brisk, rather long, ride had been only an exhilaration, and she had
reined her horse in impatiently enough out of respect to Eric. She had
been accustomed to race at full-speed, having been tutored into this by
her brother, and she did not understand how any one could be cautious
and circumspect in riding like Eric. As for the rest, she was beaming
with cheerfulness and high spirits, even Egbert was treated with
perfect amiability, not a look, not a word, reminded of that
disagreement when they first met.

The laborers reverentially greeted the young master and his promised
bride, whom all eyes followed with admiration. Even here Cecilia's
beauty celebrated a triumph, only Egbert Runeck seemed perfectly
insensible to its charms.

He became their guide through grounds in the act of being laid out,
taking pains to show his guests whatever was worth seeing, but he
observed towards the Baroness Wildenrod the same cold reserve as
before, and turned mostly to Eric; in him, to be sure, he did not have
a particularly attentive listener. The young heir showed only a faint,
half-forced sympathy in all these things, with which he should properly
have felt himself identified.

"It is incredible, the quantity of work that you have all done in these
few weeks," said he, finally, with genuine admiration. "That would be
something for my brother-in-law, who now buries himself all day in the
Odensburg works and has regularly constituted himself my father's
assistant. I would never have believed that Oscar had so keen a relish
for such things."

Runeck did not answer, but his lip curled contemptuously at these last
words. Eric, who did not observe this, continued in the most
unembarrassed way:

"One thing more, Egbert, we recently made an excursion into the
mountains, and some of our party noticed that the great cross on the
Whitestone had sunk. Father wishes the matter to be carefully looked
into, so that no accident may happen. Is there any one among your
people here, who will undertake the dangerous task?"

"Certainly," assented Runeck. "It would be very perilous, if that heavy
cross should one day fall from that high cliff, since the road runs
along just below. I shall go up and see about it myself in the course
of the next few days."

"Upon the Whitestone?" asked Cecilia, whose attention had been
awakened. "How is that? They say it is inaccessible."

"Assuredly it is for ordinary people," mocked Eric. "One's name must be
Egbert Runeck to undertake such a walk on our most dangerous cliff. I
believe he has been up there already three or four times."

"I am practiced in mountain-climbing," said Egbert composedly. "When a
boy I used to be familiar with every cliff and mountain of my native
district, and that is knowledge which is not unlearned. As for the
rest, the Whitestone is not inaccessible, it only demands a steady
head, clear eye and the necessary fearlessness, then the way is to be
forced."

"Dear me, do not say that!" cried Eric laughing, but yet with a certain
unrest. He really feared lest Cecilia might be seized with one of those
madcap fancies by which she had recently so frightened him. "She was
wild to go to the top of the Whitestone."

Runeck seemed to think this project something unheard of, he looked
doubtingly and in surprise upon the young lady, who replied in a
haughty tone:

"Why, yes! I should like just for once to stand on such a dizzy height,
immediately above that abrupt precipice. It must be a thrillingly sweet
sensation! Eric was horrified at the bare idea."

"Cecilia, you torture me with such jests!"

"How do you know that it is a jest? And suppose I act upon it in
earnest--would you go with me?"

"I?" The young man looked as if he thought they expected him to jump
down from the cliff in question. About the lips of his betrothed played
a half-compassionate, half-contemptuous smile; almost imperceptibly she
elevated her shoulders.

"Compose yourself, pray! I shall not demand such a proof of love--I
would go alone."

"Let me implore you, Cecile, not to think of such a thing!" exclaimed
Eric, now alarmed in good earnest, but Egbert interrupted him with
quiet decision.

"You need not disturb yourself on that score. That is no path for the
dainty feet of a lady to tread. Baroness Wildenrod will hardly make the
attempt, and, if she should do so, she would give it up again in five
minutes."

"Cecilia tossed her head, and her eyes flashed as she asked in a
peculiar tone:

"Are you so certain of that, Herr Runeck?"

"Yes, noble lady, for I know the Whitestone."

"But you do not know me!"

"May be so."

Cecilia started, the answer seemed to surprise her, but her glance
strayed to her betrothed, and she laughed scornfully.

"Do not look so miserable, Eric! All this is only bantering! I am not
thinking of the Whitestone and its break-neck cliffs.--How do you
manage, really, Herr Runeck, when you blow up these colossal masses of
rock?"

Eric breathed more freely after the conversation had taken this new
turn. He was already accustomed to being put on the rack by various
whims and wild ideas suggested by his promised bride, that had no
substantial basis, however, and were never to be taken seriously. Being
restored to his composure now, he turned to the old inspector, who
stood close by, expecting, evidently, to be noticed.

Old Mertens had served the father of the present chief, and now
they had given him to perform the light and lucrative duties of an
upper-inspector of the Radefeld works. Eric, who had known him from
childhood, spoke kindly to him, making particular inquiries after his
family, and afterwards greeted with the same kindliness the other
workmen within speaking distance. Any stranger seeing him stand thus
among the people, with stooping gait, delicate, worn features and
almost timid manner, would never in the world have suspected him of
being the future lord of Odensburg. There was nothing of the master at
all about him.

Perhaps Baroness Wildenrod had imbibed this same impression, for her
delicately-arched eyebrows contracted as though from displeasure, and
then her glance turned slowly to the young engineer, who stood in front
of her. Hitherto she had only seen him in company-suit, to-day he wore
a gray woolen jacket and high-top boots, such as wind and weather asked
for, but he gained wonderfully by this simple garb. It matched so
admirably with the bold manliness of his appearance; here on his own
territory his individuality was most strikingly manifest. The first
glance showed that here it was his to command, and that he was fully
equal to the trust reposed in him; the diminutive form of the friend of
his youth shrank into nothingness at his side.

He gave the explanation desired, fully and in detail, illustrating what
he said by showing the mine already laid to that part of the cliff
which still stood erect, yet in doing this, he turned his whole
attention to the rocks and had hardly a look to bestow upon his fair
listener, who now said smilingly:

"We saw the blasting from over yonder, and the explosion was extremely
effective. You were enthroned yonder on the height like the
mountain-sprite in his own person--all the others like ministering
gnomes at your feet--a wave of your hand, and with the sound of muffled
thunder the cliffs were split and sank in ruins--a genuine glimpse of
fairyland!"

"Why, do you know anything of the tales and legends of our mountains?"
asked Egbert coolly. "I really would not have supposed it."

"Only Maia is to be thanked for it. She has introduced me into the
legends of her native hills, and I verily believe the little thing
believes them to be solidly true. Maia sometimes is still a real
child."

These last words sounded very scornful. The slender young lady
who stood there, leaning against the wall of rock, in a stylish
riding-habit of silver-gray, with hat and plumes to match, could not,
by any means, be accused of being a child. Even here she was the lady
of fashion and distinction, who was making it her pastime just to see
for once how the sons of labor lived and delved. And yet she was
ensnaringly beautiful, despite her pride and self-consciousness;
radiant and certain of conquest she stood before the man who alone
seemed to have neither eye nor ear for charms that had never elsewhere
played her false. Perhaps it was this very insensibility which
attracted the spoiled girl, who now continued in taunting tone:

"When I beheld that telling picture of which you formed the center, I
could not help thinking of the old saying about the caper-spurge. That
is the mysterious magic wand of the mountains, to which every bolt
yields and every cavern opens. And then the buried treasures of the
earth shine and beckon to the chosen one, who is to bring them to the
light.


                 'He takes from night and darkness
                    Their treasures, hidden deep,
                  And he those jewels sparkling
                    And all that gold may keep.'


What think you--has not Maia had an apt scholar?"

She looked at him smilingly as she repeated the verse of that old song
which told of the all-powerful enchanting rod, but the young engineer's
manner did not soften, in spite of all her blandness. His face,
embrowned by exposure to sun and wind, was a shade paler, perhaps, than
usual, but his voice sounded cool and self-controlled, as he answered:

"Our time no longer has need of an enchanter's wand. It has found
another sort of one for splitting rocks and opening the earth--You see
it, do you not?"

"Yes, indeed. I see bald destruction, rubbish and splintered
quartz--but the treasures stay buried below."

"It is empty and dead below--there are no longer any buried treasures."

The answer had a harsh and joyless sound, and the tone in which it was
spoken did not soften its asperity.

"Perhaps it is only because the magical word has been lost, without
which the wand remains powerless," answered Cecilia lightly, without
observing, apparently, his forbidding manner. "Do you not think so,
Herr Runeck?"

"I think, Baroness Wildenrod, that the world of fairies and magicians
has long been left behind us. We no longer comprehend it, and no longer
_want_ to comprehend it."

There was something almost menacing in these apparently insignificant
words. Cecilia bit her lips, and through the sunny brightness of her
smile there gleamed a flash of hostility from her eyes, but then she
laughed gayly.

"How grim that sounds! The poor gnomes and dwarfs have a determined
enemy, I perceive. Only hear, Eric, how your friend denounces the whole
legendary world."

"Yes, it is not worth while to approach Egbert with such things," said
Eric, who just now came up. "He has no opinion of poetry, either,
that one cannot make by line and plummets, nor needs to draw plans
for--therefore he regards it as a highly superfluous thing. I have not
yet forgiven him for the way in which he took the news of my
engagement--actually, with formal commiseration! And when I indignantly
hurled at him the reproach that he knew nothing about love, nor cared
to know it either--would you believe that I got for answer a frigid
'No.'"

Cecilia fixed her large, dark eyes upon the young engineer, and again
that demoniacal spark flashed in them as she said smilingly:

"And were you really in earnest, Herr Runeck?"

Some seconds elapsed ere he answered. He seemed yet paler than awhile
ago, but his eye met that look fully and darkly, while he coldly
replied:

"Yes, Baroness Wildenrod."

"There, you hear it for yourself," cried Eric, half-laughing, half
vexed. "He is as hard as these rocks."

The young lady tapped lightly with her riding-whip against the pile of
rocks that lay heaped up in front of her.

"Maybe. But rocks, too, can be brought to yield, we see. Take heed,
Herr Runeck, you have mocked and defied those mysterious powers----they
will have their revenge!"

The words should have sounded playful, and yet there was a perceptible
breath of defiance in them. Egbert answered not a word, while Eric
looked in amazement from one to the other.

"Of what were you talking?" asked he.

"We were speaking of the caper-spurge, which cleaves rocks asunder, and
unlocks the hidden treasures of earth.--But I think we had better go
now, if you approve."

Eric assented, and then turned to Runeck.

"There is to be more blasting, I perceive; wait, though, before you
apply the match, until we get beyond the region of the ravine. Our
horses were made very unmanageable by it awhile ago, the groom could
hardly hold them."

Again that wicked and contemptuous smile played about Cecilia's lips,
for she had been quick to note awhile ago, that Eric had nervously
started at the dull sounds of the explosion and had summoned the groom
to his side. Her horse, too, had become very restive, but she had held
it firmly in with the bit. Meanwhile she suppressed any remark and only
said, while Egbert guided her and Eric to the place where the horses
stood:

"Accept our thanks for your friendly guidance and explanation. You will
be glad to be rid of such disturbing guests."

Runeck bowed low and formally.

"Oh, do not speak of it, I pray. Eric is here as proprietor on his own
estate, there can be no talk of disturbance."

"And yet it would seem so. You were fairly shocked, when you caught
sight of us in the entrance to the ravine."

"I? Have you such sharp eyes, noble lady?"

"Oh, yes, Eric often teases me about my 'falcon-glance.'"

"In this case, however, your sight deceived you. I was only anxious,
when I caught sight of you so near--horses are so easily frightened by
blasting."

The riding-whip struck impatiently against the folds of her silver-gray
habit. Did that rock resist everything?

Meanwhile they had reached the spot where their horses were tied.
Cecilia and Eric mounted. The former nodded slightly an adieu, then
applied her switch sharply to her beautiful roan, The fiery animal
reared, and immediately set off at a gallop, so that the other could
hardly follow him.

They were still visible for about five minutes, on the forest-road that
led to Radefeld. Like some apparition flew the slender girlish figure
on the back of her racing steed, with her habit fluttering and the
plumes in her hat streaming behind. Once more she was seen at the bend,
then the forest closed behind her.

Egbert was still standing motionless in his place, looking with fixed
and burning eyes upon that road through the woods. His lips were firmly
compressed, and on his features rested a singular expression, as though
of stifled pain or wrath: finally, he straightened himself up and
turned to go.

Then he perceived something at his feet, soft and white, as though some
blossom had blown there.

The foot of the young man seemed suddenly to be rooted to the ground,
then he slowly stooped and picked it up.

It was a fine lace handkerchief, delicately perfumed, that appealed to
Egbert's senses in a bewitchingly flattering manner. Involuntarily his
fingers clutched the airy fabric tighter and tighter.

"Herr Runeck!" said a voice behind him.

Runeck started and turned around. It was old Mertens.

"The men would like to know if they are to go on with the blasting, it
is all ready."

"Certainly, I am coming directly.--Mertens, you are going to Odensburg
this evening, I suppose?"

"Yes, Herr Engineer, I want to spend Sunday with my children."

"Well, then, take----"

Runeck stopped, and the old man looked at him in amazement. It was
exactly as if the engineer was with difficulty, struggling for breath.
And yet it lasted only a second, when he continued with a peculiarly
gruff voice,

"Take this handkerchief with you, and hand it in at the Manor-house.
Baroness Wildenrod has lost it."

Mertens took the handkerchief held out to him, and stuck it in his
pocket, while Egbert went back to the workmen, who were only waiting
for his appearance. He gave the signal, and the magic wand of the new
times did its duty. The startling explosion took place, and the cliff
still uninjured, that had stood there so proud and lofty, was split in
twain. It trembled, tottered, and then fell in ruins at Runeck's feet
dragging trees and shrubs to destruction with it.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

                       A BOUGH OF APPLE-BLOSSOMS.


"As I tell you, Miss Friedberg, the nerves are a mere habit, and one of
the worst of ones at that. Since the ladies have discovered nerves, we
doctors have been the most tormented people in the world. It may be a
right useful invention so far as husbands are concerned, but a hardened
bachelor like myself has not the least respect for it."

With these words Dr. Hagenbach closed a rather long harangue which he
had been giving in Miss Friedberg's chamber. Leonie, who looked pale
and worn, had called him in professionally, and in reply to his
questions had only repeated again and again that she was "through and
through nervous."

"I believe. Doctor, you are the only physician who denies the existence
of nerves," she said. "I should think science----"

"What science calls 'nerves' has my deepest respect"--she was
interrupted by Hagenbach. "But what ladies give out to be such, in
their stead, does not exist. Why do you not have yourself treated by
the city health-officer, who makes a profound bow to each nerve of his
patients, or by one of my young colleagues here in Odensburg, who also
advocates the thing, although with a certain timidity. If you give
yourself into my hands, there is no favor shown, that you know."

"Yes, I do know it!" she answered with some feeling. "And now may I ask
for your prescriptions."

"Which, of course, you have no mind to follow. But never mind that,
I'll use strict vigilance. In the first place, then, the air in your
room will not do, it is much too damp and heavy. Above all things, let
us open the window."

"I beg pardon," opposed Leonie with warmth. "A keen north wind is
blowing, which is more than I can stand."

"Wonderful air!" said Hagenbach, as, without paying any heed to her
objection, he proceeded to the window and threw open both casements.
"Were you out of doors yesterday?"

"No, we had a terrible rain-storm."

"Where were your umbrella and waterproof, I allow _them_
unquestionably. Follow your pupil's example--down yonder in the park
Miss Maia sails along quite merrily in the face of the storm, and that
tiny thing, Puck, sails along with her, although he is almost blown
away."

"Maia is young, a happy child, that knows nothing but laughter and
sunshine," said Leonie with a sigh. "She knows nothing yet of sorrow
and tears, of all the hard and bitter that is imposed upon us by fate."

As she spoke, her eye involuntarily sought the desk, above which a
large photograph took the main place on the wall. Some sweet yet
painful memory must have been linked to that picture, for it was
decorated by a mourning veil of black crape, and below it was a bowl
full of sweet violets, that seemed like a sacrificial offering.

That glance did not escape the doctor's sharp eyes. As though
accidentally he stepped up to the desk and began to inspect the
likenesses to be found there, while he dryly remarked:

"Every man has his troubles, but they are far better borne with
good-humor than with wailing and mourning. Ah! there is the picture of
the little lady--very like! And her brother by her side--remarkable,
that he does not resemble his father in the least. Whom does that
photograph represent?" He pointed to the picture draped in mourning.

This unexpected question seemed to embarrass Leonie, she blushed
faintly and answered with a somewhat unsteady voice:

"A--a relation."

"Your brother, perhaps?"

"No, a cousin--quite a distant relation."

"Ah, indeed?" drawled Hagenbach.

The remote relation seemed to interest him, he examined very narrowly
the features of the very pale and lank young man, with sleek hair and
eyes romantically upturned, and then continued in an indifferent tone:

"That face has a familiar look to me. I must have seen it before
somewhere."

"You are in error as to that." Leonie's voice quivered perceptibly. "It
has been long since he was counted among the living. He has lain in his
grave for years: the hot deserts of Africa."

"Heaven rest his soul!" said the doctor with provoking equanimity. "But
what took him to Africa and into the desert? Did he go as an explorer
perhaps?"

"No, he died a martyr to a holy cause. He had attached himself to a
mission to the heathen, and succumbed to the climate."

"I can only say he might have done a cleverer thing!"

Leonie, who had just carried her handkerchief to her eyes, overcome
with emotion, stopped, utterly shocked at his lack of feeling:

"Doctor!"

"Yes, I cannot help thinking so. Miss Friedberg. I deem it very
superfluous, in the first place, to be going away off to Africa to
convert the black heathen, while so many white heathens, are roving
around here in Germany, who know nothing of Christianity, although
they are baptized. If your cousin had preached the Word of God, as a
well-installed pastor to his own people----"

"He was not a minister, but a teacher," the angry lady managed to put
in.

"Never mind; then, emphatically, he should have taught the dear
school-boys the fear of God and flogged them into it, too, if needful.
Classes have little enough of that nowadays."

Leonie's face betrayed the indignation she felt at this mode of
expression, but reply was spared her, however, for at this moment came
a timid knock at the door, and immediately afterwards Dagobert entered,
but was hardly allowed to pay his respects to the lady; his uncle
calling out to him, in his threatening voice, just as soon as he laid
eyes on him:

"No English lesson to-day. Miss Friedberg has just declared that she is
'nervous through and through,' and nerves and grammar do not agree."

The young man must have valued this instruction highly, for he was
quite shocked at this announcement. But Leonie said most positively:

"I beg pardon, stay, dear Dagobert! Our English studies are not to
suffer from my bad feelings, we shall have our accustomed lesson. I'll
go for our books." So saying, she got up and went into the next room.

The doctor, with a vexed look, followed her with his eyes. "I never did
have such a contrary patient! Always the embodiment of contradiction!
Hark ye, Dagobert, you are tolerably well-informed--what sort of a man
is the one hanging yonder?"

"Hanging? Whore?" asked the horror-stricken Dagobert, while,
shuddering, he looked across at the trees in the park.

"Why, you need not be thinking directly of a rope," said his uncle. "I
mean that picture over the desk, with the crazy decoration of crape and
violets."

"It is a relative of Miss Friedberg, a cousin----"

"Yes, indeed, quite a remote one! She has told me that, too, but I know
she must have been engaged to him. Tiresome enough he looks to have
been. Do you know his name, perhaps?"

"Miss Friedberg told it to me once--Engelbert."

"So the man was named Engelbert, too!" cried the excited doctor. "The
name is just as sentimental as that unbearable face. Engelbert and
Leonie--they match splendidly together! How the two would have sat and
cooed together like a pair of turtle-doves!"

"He is dead, poor man!" remarked Dagobert.

"Was not of much account in life," growled Hagenbach, "and does not
seem to have had specially good nourishment either, before he hied him
to the desert. What a wretched woe-begone face it is! I must away now,
give my compliments to Miss Friedberg. Much satisfaction may you get
out of your 'nervous' English hour."

So saying the doctor picked up hat and cane and left. Ill-humoredly he
descended the stairs, that sentimental "man of the desert" seemed to
have thoroughly spoiled his temper. Suddenly he stood still.

"I have seen that face somewhere else, I stick to that, but strange--it
looked entirely different!"

With this oracular remark he shook his head with a puzzled look and
left the house.

The weather out of doors did not indeed look very inviting, being one
of those cold, stormy spring-days, such as occur so frequently in the
mountains. It is true the landscape no longer wore the bleak, wintry
aspect that it had done a few weeks before, the trees having already
decked themselves in fresh green, while the first flowers were
blossoming in the meadows and fields, but this blooming and growing
went forward only slowly, because sunshine was lacking.

Dark masses of cloud chased each other over the face of the sky, the
rustling tree-tops bent before the wind, but this did not trouble the
young girl, who, with light step, hurried forward on a narrow path
through the woods.

Maia knew, to be sure, that her father did not approve of her taking
such long walks unattended, but in the beginning she had confined her
stroll to the park-limits, then Puck darted across the meadows and she
after him, and then he went into the woods only a little distance, but
it was so beautiful there under the murmuring pines, it enticed her on
and on into the green solitude. What delight, to be, for once, so
entirely alone, running races with the barking Puck, as if for a wager!
Absorbed in this pleasure, Maia forgot entirely about the way back,
until rather rudely reminded of it.

The dark clouds, which had been already threatening the whole day long,
seemed finally to determine to fulfill their promise, for it began to
rain, at first softly, then harder and harder, until there poured such
torrents from the sky as accompany a regular thunder-storm.

Maia had taken refuge beneath a huge fir-tree, but found protection
there only for the moment. It did not last long, on account of the
dripping and trickling from every limb; she stood as though under the
eaves of a roof, and the heavens grew ever darker. It was no quickly
passing shower, so there was nothing for it but to run as fast as
possible to the little lodge, only a quarter of a mile away, that
offered a secure shelter. No sooner thought than done! The young girl
rushed along over stick and stone, on the wet mossy soil, between
dripping trees, finally, across a clearing in the forest, where wind
and rain assailed her with full force, until, at last, breathless and
thoroughly drenched, she found herself, with her four-footed companion,
in a dry spot where they could bid defiance to the storm.

This lodge belonged to the forestry equipment at Odensburg, but
was almost a half league from it, in the midst of the woods. In
winter-time, when deep snow had fallen, they fed the hungry game here
and also stored food for their cattle.

It was a small building constructed of boards and the trunks of trees
joined together, with a water-tight roof and two low windows, now in
the spring empty and unused, but a welcome place of refuge for the two
fugitives.

Maia shook herself, so that the drops splashed in all directions. The
rain had not hurt her waterproof at all, although it poured out of its
folds, but her pretty hat, which she now took from her head, was so
much the worse treated. The dainty thing, with its feathers and lace,
was now nothing but a shapeless mass, and Puck did not look much
better. His white coat was dripping, and its usually long silky hairs
were hanging down in wet strands, giving him such a comically
disconsolate look, that his young mistress laughed aloud.

"Only look, Puck! what a thing we have made of it!" said she in mock
despair. "Why were we not sensible enough to stay in the park! How we
do look, and how papa will scold! But you are to blame, you were the
first to run off to the woods. Thank God, that at least we have a dry
spot to sit in, else both of us would have been washed down to
Radefeld, and Egbert would have had to fish us out."

She hurled the utterly spoiled hat upon the low bench that lined the
wall on one side, seated herself and looked through the little window
out upon the tempest. The rain was still coming down in torrents, and
the wind howled around the lodge as though it would like to demolish
it. Return home at present was not to be thought of. Mala yielded to
the inevitable, drew the hood of her waterproof over her head, and
watched Puck, who had stuck his nose through the small opening made by
the door being left slightly ajar, and discontentedly followed with his
eyes the falling drops.

Just then there appeared on the verge of the forest a person, who stood
still for a moment and cast a searching glance around, but then started
at a running pace over the clearing, straightway to the forest lodge.
Now it was reached by the stranger, who was evidently likewise a
fugitive from the storm, with a bold leap he cleared the little lake
that had already been formed in front of the door, and kicked this open
so violently, the inquisitive Puck was driven back by the shock. But
then, with a loud bark, he rushed upon the intruder, who thus presumed
to contest the sole possession of the house with himself and his
mistress.

"Not so fierce, you little yelper!" cried the stranger, laughing. "Are
you the lord and master in this enchanted cottage, or is it that little
gray dryad cowering over yonder on that bench?"

He had stooped down to grasp the little animal, that quickly eluded him
and took refuge in the corner, whence was now heard a suppressed laugh
and a thin little voice saying:

"The dryad thanks you for your good opinion."

The stranger pricked up his ears; the answer showed him that it was no
child of a collier or peasant, as he had at first supposed, who was
crouched up there in the half-darkness of the ill-lit room. He gave a
sharper look, but the low-drawn hood allowed nothing farther to be seen
than a rosy little mouth, a pretty nose, and a pair of large brown
eyes, that now, in their turn, were surveying the intruder with
curiosity and astonishment.

He was a young man of about four-and-twenty years, with a handsome,
open countenance, brown wavy hair, and bright laughing eyes. The
weather had treated him ill, for he was without any waterproof: the
gray traveling suit that he wore was dripping wet, and when he pulled
off his hat, and waved it in salutation, the water fell from the brim
in little rivulets on the floor.

"Let me implore you," said he "to grant most graciously to a lost
traveler who has been caught in the rain, opportunity for a little
rest. I am really an ordinary mortal, and no water-sprite, as my
outward appearance would certainly lead you to suppose. May I come
closer?"

"Just stay where you are at the door!" sounded from out of the corner.
"Water-sprites and the little people of the wood cannot bear one
another you know, I suppose, from the fairy-tales."

"Is that so? Well, then, nothing is left for me, but to come forward
with all my human attributes, such as, name, rank, family, and other
earthly props. So: Count Eckardstein, lieutenant of infantry, brother
of the hereditary lord of Eckardstein, to which place I am now on my
way. At Radefeld I sent my carriage on ahead, in order to take that
beautiful walk through the Odensburg forests, when lo! these pitiless
clouds resolved to empty themselves on my devoted head. Thence come my
watery habiliments, laying me open to so vile a suspicion, but it is
the only fairy-like thing about me--may I regard myself as sufficiently
introduced?"

"I believe so. His native place, then, may be congratulated upon seeing
Count Victor again, after an absence of six years?"

The young Count started, and, despite the prohibition, impulsively drew
a few steps nearer. "Do you know me?"

"Dryads are all-knowing."

"But they do not remain invisible after they have once lowered
themselves to converse with mortals. Am I actually, then, not to be
permitted to see what is hidden under that gray wrap?" As he uttered
these last words, he made a new attempt to get a near look at the face
of that mysterious being, but in vain, for, a rosy little hand that
suddenly became visible, drew the hood down so low that nothing but the
tip of a nose could be discerned, and again sounded that low, mocking
laugh, that rippled like the twittering of larks.

"Guess, Count!"

"Impossible, how can I? I know nobody at Eckardstein or rather at
Odensburg, for we are still on Odensburg land."

He paused, as if waiting for an answer, but he only heard repeated
that:

"Guess!"

Count Victor perceived that he would not carry his point in this way,
but the clear laugh and voice betrayed to him the fact that it must be
a very young girl, who played "hide-and-seek" with him in this way.
There was a gleam of haughtiness in his eye, as, with a deep bow and
apparent earnestness he said:

"Indeed, I believe I do recognize now the voice and also the figure--I
have the honor of standing in the presence of the Honorable Miss Corona
Von Schmettwitz?"

This expedient served his purpose; quick as a wink the dryad suddenly
darted forth from her dark corner, the hood flew back, and while her
fair hair, released from confinement, flowed in rich light waves over
the gray mantle, there appeared also Maia's shapely head and sweet
innocent face, that, at this moment, indeed, was crimsoned by anger.

Corona von

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