The Alpine Fay: A Romance
by E. Werner · English · Gutenberg #35229 · 584,595 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Alpine Fay: A Romance
Author: E. Werner
Translator: A. L. Wister
Release date: February 9, 2011 [eBook #35229]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35229
Credits: Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ALPINE FAY: A ROMANCE ***
Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive
Transcriber's Note:
1. Page scan source:
http://www.archive.org/details/alpinefayromance00wern
2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
The Alpine Fay
A ROMANCE
FROM THE GERMAN
OF
E. WERNER
BY
MRS. A. L. WISTER
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1908.
* * * * *
Copyright, 1889, by J. B. Lippincott Company.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I.--A Mountain Home
II.--A Morning Call
III.--Explanatory
IV.--The Last Thurgau
V.--The Lover and the Suitor
VI.--At President Nordheim's
VII.--A New Scheme
VIII.--Another Clime
IX.--The Herr President Speaks
X.--A Professional Visit
XI.--On the Alm
XII.--The Bale-Fire
XIII.--An Outraged Wife
XIV.--Midsummer Blessing
XV.--A Betrothal
XVI.--Suspicions
XVII.--Unforeseen Obstacles
XVIII.--A Mountain Ramble
XIX.--Nemesis
XX.--Blasts and Counterblasts
XXI.--A Challenge
XXII.--An Unexpected Visit
XXIII.--A Jealous Lover
XXIV.--The Avalanche
XXV.--Not all Despair
XXVI.--The Kiss of the Alpine Fay
XXVII.--Midsummer-Eve again
.
CHAPTER I.
A MOUNTAIN-HOME.
High above the snow-crowned summits of the mountains gleamed a rainbow.
The storm had passed; there was still a low mutter of thunder in the
ravines, and masses of clouds lay encamped about the mountainsides, but
the skies were once more clear, the loftiest peaks were unveiling, and
dark forests and green slopes were beginning slowly to emerge from the
sea of cloud and mist.
The extensive Alpine valley through which rushed a considerable stream
lay far in the depths of the mountain-range, so secluded and lonely
that it might have been entirely shut off from the world and its
turmoil; and yet the world had found the way to it. The quiet
mountain-road, usually deserted save for an occasional wagon or a
strolling pedestrian, was all astir with bustle and life. Everywhere
were to be seen groups of engineers and labourers; everywhere
measuring, surveying, and planning were going on; the railway, in a
couple of years, was to stretch its iron arms forth into this mountain
seclusion, and preparations were already making for its course.
Some way up the mountain-road, on the brink of a hollow whose rocky
sides fell away in a steep descent, lay a dwelling-house, which at
first sight did not appear to differ much from others scattered here
and there among the mountains; a near view, however, soon made plain
that it was no peasant's abode situated thus on the spacious green
slope. The house had firmly-cemented walls of blocks of stone, and low
but broad doors and windows; two semicircular projections, the pointed
roofs of which gave them the air of small towers, lent it a stately
appearance, and above the entrance there was artistically carved in the
stone a scutcheon.
It was one of those old baronial mansions, yet to be found here and
there among the mountains, simple and rude, half suggesting a peasant
abode, gray and weather-worn, but stoutly resisting the decay to which
many a proud castle had fallen a victim. The ascending slope of the
mountain formed a picturesque background, and high above a huge peak
reared its rocky crest, crowned with snow, lonely and proud.
The interior of the house accorded with its outside. Through a vaulted
hall, with a stone floor, a low spacious room was reached which
occupied nearly the entire width of the building. The wainscot, brown
with age, the gigantic tiled stove, the high-backed chairs, and the
heavily-carved oaken cupboards were all plain and simple and showed
marks of long years of use. The windows were wide open, affording a
magnificent view of the mountains, but the two gentlemen sitting at the
table were too earnestly engaged in conversation to pay any heed to the
beauties which each moment revealed more fully.
One of them, a man fifty years of age, was a giant in stature, with a
broad chest and powerful limbs. Not a thread of silver as yet streaked
his thick hair and fair, full beard; his tanned face beamed with the
life and health that characterized his entire figure. His companion was
of perhaps the same age, but his spare figure, his sharp features, and
his gray hair made him appear much older. His face and the high
forehead, already deeply lined, spoke of restless striving and
scheming, as well as of the energy necessary for them; there was in his
expression a degree of arrogance which was far from prepossessing, and
his air and speech conveyed an impression of self-confidence, as of a
man accustomed to rule those about him.
"So pray listen to reason, Thurgau," he said, in a tone in which
impatience was audible. "Your opposition will do you no good. In any
case you will be forced to relinquish your estate."
"I, forced!" exclaimed Thurgau, angrily. "We'll see about that. While I
live, not a stone of Wolkenstein shall be touched."
"But it is directly in the way. The big bridge starts from here, and
the line of railway goes directly through your property."
"Then alter your cursed line of railway! Carry it where you choose,
over the top of the Wolkenstein, for all I care, but let my house
alone. No need to talk, Nordheim; I persist in my 'no.'"
Nordheim smiled, half compassionately, half sarcastically: "You seem to
have entirely forgotten in your seclusion how to deal with the world
and its requirements. Do you actually imagine that an undertaking like
ours can be put a stop to, just because the Freiherr von Thurgau
chooses to refuse us a few square rods of his land? If you persist,
nothing is left us save to have recourse to our right of compulsion.
You know that we have long been empowered to use it."
"Oho, I have rights too!" exclaimed the Freiherr, bringing his fist
down heavily upon the table. "I have protested, and shall continue to
protest, while I live. Wolkenstein Court shall be left untouched,
though the entire railway company with the Herr President Nordheim at
their head should band themselves against me."
"But if you are offered double its value----"
"If I were offered a hundred times its value, it would be all the same.
I do not bargain for the last of my inheritance. Wolkenstein Court
shall not be touched, and there's an end of it!"
"This is your old obstinacy which has so often stood in your way in
life," said the president with irritation. "I might have foreseen it;
it is far from agreeable to have my own brother-in-law force to extreme
measures the company of which I am president."
"That is why you condescended to come up here yourself, for the first
time for years," Thurgau said, with a sneer.
"I wanted to try to talk you into a reasonable state of mind, since my
letters were of no avail. You surely know how entirely my time is taken
up."
"Yes, yes, heaven knows it is! Nothing would induce me to run the
perpetual race which you call life. What good do you get out of your
millions and your incredible successes? Now here, now there, you are
always on the wing, always burdened down with business and
responsibility. There's where you get the wrinkles on your forehead and
your gray hair. Look at me!" He sat upright and stretched his huge
limbs. "I am a full year older than you!"
"Very true; but then it is not given to every man to live up here with
the marmots and shoot chamois. You resigned from the army ten years
ago, although your ancient name would have insured you a brilliant
career."
"Because the service did not suit me. It never did suit the Thurgaus.
You think that is what has brought them down in the world? I can see
you do by your sneer. Well, there is not, it is true, much of the old
splendour left, but I have at least a roof over my head, and the soil
beneath my feet is my own; here no one has a right to order me
about and control me, least of all your cursed railway. No offence,
brother-in-law, we will not quarrel over the matter, and neither has a
right to reproach the other, for if I am obstinate you are domineering.
You hector your precious company until they are almost blind and deaf,
and if one of them dares to contradict you he is simply tossed aside
neck and crop."
"What do you know about it?" asked Nordheim, piqued by the last words.
"As a rule, you trouble yourself very little about our affairs."
"True, but I was talking awhile ago with a couple of engineers who were
up here surveying, and who, of course, had no idea of the relationship
between us; they scolded away at a great rate about you and your
tyranny, and favouritism. Oh, I heard a deal that was extremely
interesting."
The president shrugged his shoulders with an air of indifference: "My
appointment of the superintendent for this district was probably
distasteful to the gentlemen. They certainly threatened an open revolt
because I advanced to be their superior officer a young man of
seven-and-twenty who has more in his head than all the rest of them put
together."
"But they maintain that he is a fellow who would shun no means, so it
might promote his advancement," Thurgau said, bluntly. "You, as
president of the company, had nothing to do with the appointment,--the
engineer-in-chief alone has the right to appoint his staff."
"Officially it is so, and I do not often bring my influence to bear in
his department; when I do so I expect due deference to be paid to my
wishes. Enough, Elmhorst is superintendent and will remain so. If it
does not suit the gentlemen they can resign their posts; their opinion
is of very little consequence."
In his words there was all the arrogant self-assertion of a man
accustomed to have his own way, regardless of consequences. Thurgau was
about to reply, but at the moment the door opened, or rather was flung
wide, and a something made up of drenched clothes and floating curls
flew past the president and eagerly embraced the Freiherr; a second
something, equally wet and very shaggy, followed, and also rushed
towards the master of the house, springing upon him with loud and
joyful barks of recognition. The noisy and unexpected intrusion was
almost an attack, but Thurgau must have been used to such onslaughts,
for he showed no impatience at the damp caresses thus bestowed upon
him.
"Here I am, papa!" cried a clear girlish voice, "wet as a nixie; we
were up on the Wolkenstein all through the storm; just see how we look,
Griff and I!"
"Yes, it is plain that you come directly from the clouds," Thurgau
said, laughing. "But do you not see, Erna, that we have a visitor? Do
you recognize him?"
Erna turned about; she had not perceived the president, who had risen
and stepped aside upon her entrance, and for a few seconds she seemed
uncertain as to his identity, but she finally exclaimed, delightedly,
"Uncle Nordheim!" and hurried towards him. He, however, put out his
hands and stood on the defensive.
"Pray, pray, my child; you are dripping at every step. You are a
veritable water-witch. For heaven's sake do not let the dog come near
me! Would you expose me to a rain-storm here in the room?"
Erna laughed, and, taking the dog by the collar, drew him away. Griff
showed a decided desire to cultivate an acquaintance with the visitor,
which in his dripping condition would hardly have been agreeable. In
fact, his young mistress did not look much better; the mountain-shoes
which shod her little feet very clumsily, her skirt of some dark
woollen stuff, kilted high, and her little black beaver hat, were all
dripping wet. She seemed to care very little about it, however, as she
tossed her hat upon a chair and stroked back her damp curls.
The girl resembled her father very slightly; her blue eyes and fair
hair she had inherited from him, but otherwise there existed not the
smallest likeness between the Freiherr's giant proportions and
good-humoured but rather expressionless features and the girl of
sixteen, who, lithe and slender as a gazelle, revealed, in spite of her
stormy entrance, an unconscious grace in every movement. Her face was
rosy with the freshness of youth; it could not be called beautiful, at
least not yet: the features were still too childish and undeveloped,
and there was an expression bordering on waywardness about the small
mouth. Her eyes, it is true, were beautiful, reminding one in their
blue depths of the colour of the mountain-lakes. Her hair, confined
neither by ribbon nor by net, and dishevelled by the wind, hung about
her shoulders in thick masses of curls. She certainly did not look as
if she belonged in a drawing-room, she was rather the personification
of a fresh spring rain.
"Are you afraid of a few rain-drops, Uncle Nordheim?" she asked. "What
would have become of you in the rain-spout to which we were exposed
just now? I did not mind it much, but my companion----"
"Why, I should have thought Griff's shaggy hide accustomed to such
drenchings," the Freiherr interposed.
"Griff? Oh, I had left him as usual at the sennerin's hut; he cannot
climb, and from there one must rival the chamois. I mean the stranger
whom I met on the way. He had strayed from the path, and could not find
his way down in the mist; if I had not met him, he would be on the
Wolkenstein at this moment."
"Yes, these city men," said Thurgau,--"they come up here with huge
mountain-staffs, and in brand-new travelling-suits, and behave as if
our Alpine peaks were mere child's play; but at the first shower they
creep into a rift in the rocks and catch cold. I suppose the fine
fellow was in a terrible fright when the storm came up?"
Erna shook her head, but a frown appeared on her forehead.
"No, he was not afraid; he stayed beside me with entire composure while
the lightning and rain were at their worst, and in our descent he
showed himself courageous, although it was evident he was quite unused
to that sort of thing. But he is an odious creature. He laughed when I
told him of the mountain-sprite who sends the avalanches down into the
valley every winter, and when I grew angry he observed, with much
condescension, 'True, this is the atmosphere for superstition; I had
forgotten that.' I wished the mountain-sprite would roll an avalanche
down upon his head on the spot, and I told him so."
"You said that to a stranger whom you had met for the first time?"
asked the president, who had hitherto listened in silence, with an air
of surprise.
Erna tossed her head: "Of course I did! We could not endure him, could
we, Griff? You growled at him when he reached the sennerin's hut with
me, and you were right,--good dog! But now I really must change my wet
clothes; Uncle Nordheim will else catch cold from merely having me near
him."
She hurried off as quickly as she had come; Griff tried to follow her,
but the door was shut in his face, and so he decided upon another
course. He shook from his shaggy hide a shower of drops in every
direction, and lay down at his master's feet.
Nordheim took out his pocket-handkerchief and ostentatiously brushed
with it his black coat, although not a drop had reached it.
"Forgive me, brother-in-law; I must say that the way in which you allow
your daughter to grow up is inexcusable."
"What?" asked Thurgau, apparently extremely surprised that any one
could possibly find anything to object to in his child. "What is the
matter with the girl?"
"Everything, I should say, that could be the matter with a Fraeulein von
Thurgau. What a scene we have just witnessed! And you allow her to
wander about the mountains alone for hours, making acquaintance with
any tourist she may chance to meet."
"Pshaw! she is but a child!"
"At sixteen? It was a great misfortune for her to lose her mother so
early, and since then you have positively let her run wild. Of course
when a young girl grows up under such circumstances, without
instruction, without education----"
"You are mistaken," the Freiherr interrupted him. "When I removed to
Wolkenstein Court, after the death of my wife, I brought with me a
tutor, the old magister, who died last spring. Erna had instruction
from him, and _I_ have brought her up. She is just what I wished her to
be; we have no use up here for such a delicate hot-house plant as your
Alice. My girl is healthy in body and mind; she has grown up free as a
bird of the air, and she shall stay so. If you call that running wild,
so be it, for aught I care! My child suits me."
"Perhaps so, but you will not always be the sole ruling force in her
life. If Erna should marry----"
"Mar--ry?" Thurgau repeated in dismay.
"Certainly, you must expect her to have lovers, sooner or later."
"The fellow who dares to present himself as such shall have a lesson
from me that he'll remember!" roared the Freiherr in a rage.
"You bid fair to be an amiable father-in-law," said Nordheim, dryly. "I
should suppose it was a girl's destiny to marry. Do you imagine I shall
require my Alice to remain unmarried because she is my only daughter?"
"That is very different," said Thurgau, slowly, "a very different
thing. You may love your daughter,--you probably do love her,--but you
could give her to some one else with a light heart. I have nothing on
God's earth save my child; she is all that is left to me, and I will
not give her up at any price. Only let the gentlemen to whom you allude
come here as suitors; I will send them home again after a fashion that
shall make them forget the way hither."
The president's smile was that of the cold compassion bestowed upon the
folly of a child.
"If you continue faithful to your educational theories you will have no
cause to fear," he said, rising. "One thing more: Alice arrives at
Heilborn to-morrow morning, where I shall await her; the physician has
ordered her the baths there, and the mountain-air."
"No human being could ever get well and strong in that elegant and
tiresome haunt of fashion," Thurgau declared, contemptuously. "You
ought to send the girl up here, where she would have the mountain-air
at first hand."
Nordheim's glance wandered about the apartment, and rested with an
unmistakable expression upon the sleeping Griff; finally he looked at
his brother-in-law: "You are very kind, but we must adhere to the
physician's prescriptions. Shall we not see you in the course of a day
or two?"
"Of course; Heilborn is hardly two miles away," said the Freiherr, who
failed to perceive the cold, forced nature of his brother-in-law's
invitation. "I shall certainly come over and bring Erna."
He rose to conduct his guest to his conveyance; the difference of
opinion to which he had just given such striking expression was in his
eyes no obstacle to their friendly relations as kinsmen, and he bade
his brother-in-law farewell with all the frank cordiality native to
him. Erna too came fluttering down-stairs like a bird, and all three
went out of the house together.
The mountain-wagon which had brought the president to Wolkenstein Court
a couple of hours previously--not without some difficulty in the
absence of any good road--drove into the court-yard, and at the same
moment a young man made his appearance beneath the gate-way and
approached the master of the house.
"Good-day, doctor," cried the Freiherr in his jovial tones, whilst
Erna, with the ease and freedom of a child, offered the new-comer her
hand. Turning to his brother-in-law, Thurgau added: "This is our
AEsculapius and physician-in-ordinary. You ought to put your Alice under
his care; the man understands his business."
Nordheim, who had observed with evident displeasure his niece's
familiar greeting of the young doctor, touched his hat carelessly, and
scarcely honoured the stranger, whose bow was somewhat awkward, with a
glance. He shook hands with his brother-in-law, kissed Erna on the
forehead, and got into the vehicle, which immediately rolled away.
"Now come in, Dr. Reinsfeld," said the Freiherr, who did not apparently
regret this departure. "But it occurs to me that you do not know my
brother-in-law,--the gentleman who has just driven off."
"President Nordheim,--I am aware," replied Reinsfeld, looking after the
vehicle, which was vanishing at a turn in the road.
"Extraordinary," muttered Thurgau. "Everybody knows him, and yet he has
not been here for years. It is exactly as if some potentate were
driving through the mountains."
He went into the house; the young physician hesitated a moment before
following him, and looked round for Erna; but she was standing on the
low wall that encircled the court-yard, looking after the conveyance as
with some difficulty it drove down the mountain.
Dr. Reinsfeld was about twenty-seven years old; he did not possess the
Freiherr's gigantic proportions, but his figure was fine, and
powerfully knit. He certainly was not handsome, rather the contrary,
but there was an undeniable charm in the honest, trustful gaze of his
blue eyes and in his face, which carried written on its brow kindness
of heart. The young man's manners and bearing, it is true, betrayed
entire unfamiliarity with the forms of society, and there was much
to be desired in his attire. His gray mountain-jacket and his old
beaver hat had seen many a day of tempest and rain, and his heavy
mountain-shoes, their soles well studded with nails, showed abundant
traces of the muddy mountain-paths. They bore testimony to the fact
that the doctor did not possess even a mountain-pony for his visits to
his patients,--he went on foot wherever duty called him.
"Well, how are you, Herr Baron?" he asked when the two men were seated
opposite each other in the room. "All right again? No recurrence of the
last attack?"
"All right," said Thurgau, with a laugh. "I cannot understand why you
should make so much of a little dizzy turn. Such a constitution as mine
does not give gentlemen of your profession much to do."
"We must not make too light of the matter. At your years you must be
prudent," said the young physician. "I hope nothing will come of it, if
you only follow my advice,--avoid all excitement, and diet yourself to
a degree. I wrote it all down for you."
"Yes, you did, but I shall not pay it any attention," the Freiherr
said, pleasantly, leaning back in his arm-chair.
"But, Herr von Thurgau----"
"Let me alone, doctor! The life that you prescribe for me would be no
life at all. I take care of myself! I, accustomed as I am to follow a
chamois to the topmost peak of our mountains without any heed of the
sun's heat or the winter's snow,--always the first if there is any
peril to be encountered,--I give up hunting, drink water, and avoid all
agitation like a nervous old maid! Nonsense! I've no idea of anything
of the kind."
"I did not conceal from you the grave nature of your attack, nor that
it might have dangerous consequences."
"I don't care! Man cannot balk his destiny, and I never was made for
such a pitiable existence as you would have me lead. I prefer a quick,
happy death."
Reinsfeld looked thoughtful, and said, in an undertone, "In fact, you
are right. Baron, but----" He got no further, for Thurgau burst into a
loud laugh.
"Now, that's what I call a conscientious physician! When his patient
declares that he cares not a snap for his prescriptions, he says 'you
are right!' Yes, I am right; you see it yourself."
The doctor would have protested against this interpretation of his
words, but Thurgau only laughed more loudly, and Erna made her
appearance with Griff, her inseparable companion.
"Uncle Nordheim is safe across the bridge, although it was half
flooded," she said. "The engineers all rushed to his assistance and
helped to draw the carriage across, after which they drew up in line on
each side and bowed profoundly."
She mimicked comically the reverential demeanour of the officials, but
the Freiherr shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
"Fine fellows those! They abuse my brother-in-law in every way behind
his back, but as soon as he comes in sight they bow down to the ground.
No wonder the man is arrogant."
"Papa," said Erna, who had been standing beside her father's chair, and
who now put her arm around his neck, "I do not think Uncle Nordheim
likes me: he was so cold and formal."
"That is his way," said Thurgau, drawing her towards him. "But he has a
great deal of fault to find with you, you romp."
"With Fraeulein Erna?" asked Reinsfeld, with as much astonishment and
indignation in look and tone as if the matter in question had been high
treason.
"Yes; she ought to conduct herself like a Fraeulein von Thurgau. Oh,
yes, child, awhile ago he offered to have you come to him to be trained
for society with his Alice by all sorts of governesses! What do you say
to such an arrangement?"
"I do not want to go to my uncle, papa. I will never go away from you.
I mean to stay at Wolkenstein Court as long as I live."
"I knew it!" said the Freiherr, triumphantly. "And they insist that you
will marry some day,--go off with a perfect stranger and leave your
father alone in his old age! We know better, eh, Erna? We two belong
together and we will stay together."
He stroked his child's curls with a tenderness pathetic in the bluff,
stalwart man, and Erna nestled close to him with passionate ardour. It
was plain to see that they belonged together; each was devoted to the
other, heart and soul.
CHAPTER II.
A MORNING CALL.
"Well, Herr Superintendent, you are at your post already? It is one of
difficulty and responsibility, especially for a man of your years, but
I hope nevertheless that you are quite competent to fulfil its duties."
The young man to whom President Nordheim addressed these words bowed
respectfully, but in no wise humbly, as he replied, "I am perfectly
aware that I must show myself worthy of the distinction which I owe
principally to your influence in my behalf, Herr President."
"Yes, there was much against you," said Nordheim. "First of all, your
youth, which was regarded as an obstacle by those in authority, the
rather that older and more experienced applicants look upon their
rejection as an offence, and finally there was a decided opposition to
my interference in your favour. I need not tell you that you must take
all these things into account; they will make your position far from an
easy one."
"I am prepared for that," Elmhorst replied, quietly, "and I shall not
yield a jot to the hostility of my fellow-workers. I have hitherto,
Herr President, had no opportunity to express my gratitude to you save
by words; I trust I shall be able to show it by deeds at some future
time."
His answer seemed to please the president, and, far more graciously
than was his wont, he signed to his favourite to sit down,--for such
Elmhorst was already considered in circles that were quite conscious of
the value of the president's preference.
The young superintendent-engineer, who, upon this official visit, wore,
of course, the livery of the company, was extremely attractive in
appearance, tall and slender, with regular, decided features, to which
a complexion browned by the sun, and a dark beard and moustache, lent a
manly air. Thick brown hair was parted above a broad brow which
betokened keen intelligence, and the eyes would have been extremely
fine had they not been so cold and grave in expression. They might
observe keenly, and perhaps flash with pride and energy, but they could
hardly light up with enthusiasm, or glow with the warmer impulses of
the heart; there was no youthful fire in their dark depths. The man's
manner was simple and calm, perfectly respectful to his superior, but
without a shadow of servility.
"I am not quite satisfied with what I see here," Nordheim began again.
"The men are taking a great deal of time for the preliminary work, and
I doubt if we can begin the construction next year; there is no display
of eagerness or energy. I begin to fear that we have made a mistake in
putting ourselves into the hands of this engineer-in-chief."
"He is considered a first-class authority," Elmhorst interposed.
"True, but he has grown old, physically and mentally, and such a work
as this demands the full vigor of manhood,--a famous name is not all
that is required. The undertaking depends greatly upon the conductors
of the individual sections, and your section is one of the most
important on the entire line."
"The most important, I think. We have every possible natural obstacle
to overcome here; I am afraid we shall not always succeed, even with
the most exact calculations."
"My opinion precisely; the post requires a man capable of calculating
upon the unforeseen, and ready in an emergency to lend a hand himself.
I therefore nominated you, and carried through your appointment, in
spite of all opposition; it is for you to justify my confidence in
you."
"I will justify it," was the decided reply. "You shall not find
yourself mistaken in me, Herr President."
"I am seldom deceived in men," said Nordheim, with a searching glance
at the young man's countenance, "and of your technical capacity you
have given proof sufficient. Your plan for bridging over the
Wolkenstein chasm shows genius."
"Herr President----"
"No need to disclaim my praise, I am usually very chary of it; as a
former engineer I can judge of such matters, and I repeat, your plan
shows genius."
"And yet for a long time it was not only not accepted, it was entirely
disregarded," said Elmhorst, with some bitterness. "Had I not conceived
the happy idea of requesting a personal interview with you, at which I
explained my plans to you, they never would have been accorded the
slightest notice."
"Possibly not; talent out at elbows, with difficulty finds a hearing;
'tis the way of the world, and one from which I, myself, suffered in my
youth. But one conquers in the end, and you come off conqueror with
your present position. I shall know how to maintain you in it if you do
your duty. The rest is your own affair."
He rose, and waved his hand in token of dismissal. Elmhorst also rose,
but lingered a moment; "May I make a request?"
"Certainly; what is it?"
"A few weeks ago I had the honour in the city of seeing Fraeulein Alice
Nordheim, and of being hastily presented to her as she was getting into
the carriage with you. She is now, I hear, in Heilborn,--may I be
permitted to inquire personally after her health?"
Nordheim was startled, and scanned the bold petitioner keenly. He was
wont to have none save business relations with his officials, and was
considered very exclusive in his choice of associates, and here was
this young man, only a simple engineer a short time previously, asking
a favour which signified neither more nor less than the _entree_ of the
house of the all-powerful president. It seemed to him a little strong;
he frowned and said in a very cold tone, "Your request is a rather bold
one, Herr--Elmhorst."
"I know it, but Fortune favours the bold."
The words might have offended another patron, but not the man to whom
they were spoken. Influential millionaire as he was, Nordheim had
enough of flattery and servility, and despised both from the bottom of
his soul. This quiet self-possession, not a whit destroyed by his
presence, impressed him; he felt it was something akin to his own
nature. 'Fortune favours the bold!' It had been his own maxim by which
he had mounted the social ladder, and this Elmhorst looked as if he
never would be content with remaining on its lower rounds. The frown
vanished from his brow, but his eyes remained fixed upon the young
engineer's face as if to read his very soul,--his most secret thoughts.
After a pause of a few seconds he said, slowly, "We will admit the
proverb to be right this time. Come!"
In Elmhorst's eyes there was a flash of triumph; he bowed low, and
followed Nordheim through several rooms to the other wing of the house.
Nordheim was occupying one of the most beautiful and elegant villas in
the fashionable spa. Half hidden by the green shade of the shrubberies,
it enjoyed a charming prospect of the mountain-range, and its interior
was wanting in none of the luxuries to which spoiled and wealthy guests
are accustomed. In the drawing-room the glass door alone was open, the
jalousies were closed to keep out the glare of sunlight, and in the
cool, darkened room sat two ladies.
The elder, who held a book, and was apparently reading, was no longer
young. Her dress, from the lace cap covering her gray hair to the hem
of her dark silk gown, was scrupulously neat, and she sat up stiff and
cool and elegant, an embodiment of the rules of etiquette. The younger,
a girl of sixteen at most, a delicate, pale, frail creature, was
sitting, or rather reclining, in a large arm-chair. Her head was
supported by a silken cushion, and her hands were crossed idly and
languidly in the lap of her white, lace-trimmed morning-gown. Her face,
although hardly beautiful, was pleasing, but it wore a weary, apathetic
expression which made it lifeless when, as at present, the eyes were
half closed and the young lady seemed to be dozing.
"Herr Wolfgang Elmhorst," said the president, introducing his
companion. "I believe he is not quite a stranger to you, Alice. Frau
Baroness Lasberg."
Alice slowly opened her eyes, large brown eyes, which, however, shared
the apathetic expression of her other features. There was not the
slightest interest in her glance, and she seemed to remember neither
the name nor the person of the young man. Frau von Lasberg, on the
other hand, looked surprised. Only Wolfgang Elmhorst and nothing more?
Gentlemen without rank or title were not wont to be admitted to the
Nordheim circle; there surely must be something extraordinary about
this young man, since the president himself introduced him.
Nevertheless his courteous bow was acknowledged with frigid formality.
"I cannot expect Fraeulein Nordheim to remember me," said Wolfgang,
advancing. "Our meeting was a very transient one; I am all the more
grateful to the Herr President for his introduction to-day. But I fear
Fraeulein Nordheim is ill?"
"Only rather fatigued from her journey," the president made answer in
his daughter's stead. "How are you to-day, Alice?"
"I feel wretched, papa," the young lady replied in a gentle voice, but
one quite devoid of expression.
"The heat of the sun in the narrow valley is insufferable," Frau von
Lasberg observed. "This sultry atmosphere always has an unfavourable
effect upon Alice; I fear she will not be able to bear it."
"The physicians have ordered her to Heilborn, and we must await the
result," said Nordheim, in a tone that was impatient rather than
tender. Alice said not a word; her strength seemed exhausted by her
short reply to her father's inquiry, and she left it to Frau von
Lasberg and her father to continue the conversation.
Elmhorst's share in it was at first a very modest one, but gradually
and almost imperceptibly he took the lead, and he certainly understood
the art of conversation. His remarks were not commonplaces about the
weather and every-day occurrences; he talked of things which might have
been thought foreign to the interest of the ladies,--things which had
to do with the railway enterprise among the mountains. He described the
Wolkenstein, its stupendous proportions, its heights which dominated
the entire mountain-range, the yawning abyss which the bridge was to
span, the rushing mountain-stream, and the iron road which was to wind
through cliffs and forests above streams and chasms. His were no dry
descriptions, no technical explanations,--he unrolled a brilliant
picture of the gigantic undertaking before his listeners, and he
succeeded in enthralling them. Frau von Lasberg became some degrees
less cool and formal; she even asked a few questions, expressing her
interest in the matter, and Alice, although she persisted in her
silence, evidently listened, and sometimes bestowed a half-surprised
glance upon the speaker.
The president seemed equally surprised by the conversational talent of
his _protege_, with whom, hitherto, he had talked about official and
technical matters only. He knew that the young man had been bred in
moderate circumstances, and that he was unused to 'society' so called,
and here he was in this drawing-room conversing with these ladies as if
he had been accustomed to such intercourse all his life. And there was
an entire absence in his manner of anything like forwardness; he knew
perfectly well how to keep within the bounds assigned by good breeding
for a first visit.
In the midst of their conversation a servant appeared, and with a
rather embarrassed air announced, "A gentleman calling himself Baron
Thurgau wishes----"
"Yes, wishes to speak to his illustrious brother-in-law," a loud, angry
voice interrupted him, as he was thrust aside by a powerful arm.
"Thunder and lightning, what sort of a household have you got here,
Nordheim? I believe the Emperor of China is more easy of access than
you are! We had to break through three outposts, and even then the
betagged and betasselled pack would have denied us admittance. You have
brought an entire suite with you."
Alice had started in terror at the sound of the stentorian voice, and
Frau von Lasberg rose slowly and solemnly in mute indignation, seeming
to ask by her looks the meaning of this intrusion. The president too
did not appear to approve of this mode of announcement; but he
collected himself immediately and advanced to meet his brother-in-law,
who was followed by his daughter.
"Probably you did not at first mention your name," he said, "or such a
mistake could not have occurred. The servants do not yet know you."
"Well, there would have been no harm in admitting any simple, honest
man to your presence," Thurgau growled, still red with irritation. "But
that is not the fashion here, apparently; it was only when I added the
'Baron' that they condescended to admit us."
The servant's error was undeniably excusable, for the Freiherr wore his
usual mountaineer's garb, and Erna hardly looked like a young Baroness,
although she had not donned her storm-costume to-day. She wore a simple
gown of some dark stuff, rather more suitable for a mountain ramble
than for paying visits, and as simple a straw hat tied over her curls,
which were, however, confined to-day in a silken net, against which
they evidently rebelled. She seemed to resent their reception even more
than did her father, for she stood beside him with a frown and a
haughty curl of the lip, gloomily scanning those present. Behind the
pair appeared the inevitable Griff, who had shown his teeth angrily
when the servant attempted to shut him out of the room, and who
maintained his place in the unshaken conviction that he belonged
wherever his mistress was.
The president would have tried to smooth matters, but Thurgau, whose
wrath was wont to evaporate as quickly as it was aroused, did not allow
him to speak. "There is Alice!" he exclaimed. "God bless you, child,
I'm glad to see you again! But, my poor girl, how you look! not a drop
of blood in your cheeks. Why, this is pitiful!"
Amid such flattering remarks he approached the young lady to bestow
upon her what he considered a tender embrace; but Frau von Lasberg
interposed between Alice and himself with, "I beg of you!" uttered in a
sharp tone, as if to shield the girl from an assault.
"Come, come, I shall do my niece no harm," Thurgau said, with renewed
vexation. "You need not protect her from me as you would a lamb from a
wolf. Whom have I the honour of addressing?"
"I am the Baroness Lasberg!" the lady explained, with due emphasis upon
the title. Her whole manner expressed frigid reserve, but it availed
her nothing here. The Freiherr cordially clasped one of the hands she
had extended to ward him off, and shook it until it ached again.
"Extremely happy, madame, extremely so. My name you have heard, and
this is my daughter. Come, Erna, why do you stand there so silent? Are
you not going to speak to Alice?"
Erna approached slowly, a frown still on her brow, but it vanished
entirely at sight of her young cousin lying so weary and pale among her
cushions; suddenly with all her wonted eagerness she threw her arms
round Alice's neck and cried out, "Poor Alice, I am so sorry you are
ill!"
Alice accepted the caress without returning it; but when the blooming,
rosy face nestled close to her colourless cheek, when a pair of fresh
lips pressed her own, and the warm, tender tones fell on her ear,
something akin to a smile appeared upon her apathetic features and she
replied, softly, "I am not ill, only tired."
"Pray, Baroness, be less demonstrative," Frau von Lasberg said, coldly.
"Alice must be very gently treated; her nerves are extremely
sensitive."
"What? Nerves?" said Thurgau. "That's a complaint of the city folks.
With us at Wolkenstein Court there are no such things. You ought to
come with Alice to us, madame; I'll promise you that in three weeks
neither of you will have a single nerve."
"I can readily believe it," the lady replied, with an indignant glance.
"Come, Thurgau, let us leave the children to make acquaintance with
each other; they have not seen each other for years," said Nordheim,
who, although quite used to his brother-in-law's rough manner, was
annoyed by it in the present company. He would have led the way to the
next room, but Elmhorst, who during this domestic scene had
considerately withdrawn to the recess of a window, now advanced, as if
about to take his leave, whereupon the president, of course, presented
him to his relative.
Thurgau immediately remembered the name which he had heard mentioned in
no flattering fashion by the comrades of the young superintendent,
whose attractive exterior seemed only to confirm the Freiherr in his
mistrust of him. Erna too had turned towards the stranger; she suddenly
started and retreated a step.
"This is not the first time that I have had the honour of meeting the
Baroness Thurgau," said Elmhorst, bowing courteously. "She was kind
enough to act as my guide when I had lost my way among the cliffs of
the Wolkenstein. Her name, indeed, I hear to-day for the first time."
"Ah, indeed. So this was the stranger whom you met?" growled Thurgau,
not greatly edified, it would seem, by this encounter.
"I trust the Baroness was not alone?" Frau von Lasberg inquired, in a
tone which betrayed her horror at such a possibility.
"Of course I was alone!" Erna exclaimed, perceiving the reproach in the
lady's words, and flaming up indignantly. "I always walk alone in the
mountains, with only Griff for a companion. Be quiet, Griff! Lie down!"
Elmhorst had tried to stroke the beautiful animal, but his advances had
been met with an angry growl. At the sound of his mistress's voice,
however, the dog was instantly silent and lay down obediently at her
feet.
"The dog is not cross, I hope?" Nordheim asked, with evident annoyance.
"If he is, I must really entreat----"
"Griff is never cross," Erna interposed almost angrily. "He never hurts
any one, and always lets strangers pat him, but he does not like this
gentleman at all, and----"
"Baroness--I beg of you!" murmured Frau von Lasberg, with difficulty
maintaining her formal demeanour. Elmhorst, however, acknowledged
Erna's words with a low bow.
"I am excessively mortified to have fallen into disgrace with Herr
Griff, and, as I fear, with his mistress also," he declared, "but it
really is not my fault. Allow me, ladies, to bid you good-morning."
He approached Alice, beside whom Frau von Lasberg was standing guard,
as if to protect her from all contact with these savages who had
suddenly burst into the drawing-room, and who could not, unfortunately,
be turned out, because, setting aside the relationship, they were Baron
and Baroness born.
On the other hand, this young man with the bourgeois name conducted
himself like a gentleman. His voice was gentle and sympathetic as he
expressed the hope that Fraeulein Nordheim would recover her health in
the air of Heilborn; he courteously kissed the hand of the elder lady
when she graciously extended it to him, and then he turned to the
president to take leave of him also, when a most unexpected
interruption occurred.
Outside on the balcony, which overhung the garden and was half filled
with blossoming shrubs, appeared a kitten, which had probably found its
way thither from the garden. It approached the open glass door with
innocent curiosity, and, unfortunately, came within the range of
Griff's vision. The dog, in his hereditary hostility to the tribe of
cats, started up, barking violently, almost overturned Frau von
Lasberg, shot past Alice, frightening her terribly, and out upon the
balcony, where a wild chase began. The terrified kitten tore hither and
thither with lightning-like rapidity without finding any outlet of
escape and with its persecutor in close pursuit; the glass panes of the
door rattled, the flower-pots were overturned and smashed, and amidst
the confusion were heard the Freiherr's shrill whistle and Erna's voice
of command. The dog, young, not fully broken, and eager for the chase,
did not obey,--the hurly-burly was frightful.
At last the kitten succeeded in jumping upon the balustrade of the
balcony and thence down into the garden. But Griff would not let his
prey escape him thus; he leaped after it, overturning as he did so the
only flower-pot as yet uninjured, and immediately afterwards there was
a terrific barking in the garden, mingled with a child's scream of
terror.
All this happened in less than two minutes, and when Thurgau
hurried out on the balcony to establish peace it was already too
late. Meanwhile, the drawing-room was a scene of indescribable
confusion,--Alice had a nervous attack, and lay with her eyes closed in
Frau von Lasberg's arms; Elmhorst, with quick presence of mind, had
picked up a cologne-bottle and was sprinkling with its contents the
fainting girl's temples and forehead, while the president, scowling,
pulled the bell to summon the servants. In the midst of all this the
two gentlemen and Frau von Lasberg witnessed a spectacle which almost
took away their breath. The young Baroness, the Freifraeulein von
Thurgau, suddenly stood upon the balustrade of the balcony, but only
for an instant, before she sprang down into the garden.
This was too much! Frau von Lasberg dropped Alice out of her arms and
sank into the nearest armchair. Elmhorst found himself necessitated to
come to her relief also with cologne, which he sprinkled impartially to
the right and to the left.
Below in the garden Erna's interference was very necessary. The child
whose screams had caused her to spring from the balcony was a little
boy, and he held his kitten clasped in his arms, while before him stood
the huge dog, barking loudly, without, however, touching the little
fellow. The child was in extreme terror, and went on screaming until
Erna seized the dog by the collar and dragged him away.
Baron Thurgau, meanwhile, stood quietly on the balcony observing the
course of affairs. He knew that the child would not be hurt, for Griff
was not at all vicious. When Erna returned to the house with the
culprit, now completely subdued, while the child unharmed ran off with
his kitten, the Freiherr turned and called out in stentorian tones to
his brother-in-law in the drawing-room, "There! did I not tell you,
Nordheim, that my Erna was a grand girl?"
CHAPTER III.
EXPLANATORY.
President Nordheim belonged to the class of men who owe their success
to themselves. The son of a petty official, with no means of his own,
he had educated himself as an engineer, and had lived in very narrow
circumstances until he suddenly appeared before the public with a
technical invention which attracted the attention of the entire
profession. The first mountain-railway had just been projected, and the
young, obscure engineer had devised a locomotive which could drag the
trains up the heights. The invention was as clever as it was practical;
it instantly distanced all competing devices, and was adopted by the
company, which finally purchased the patent from the inventor at a
price which then seemed a fortune to him, and which certainly laid the
foundation of his future wealth, for he took rank immediately among men
of enterprise.
Contrary to expectation, however, Nordheim did not pursue the path in
which he had made so brilliant a _debut_; strangely enough, he seemed
to lose interest in it, and adopted another, although kindred, career.
He undertook the formation and the financial conduct of a large
building association, of which in a few years he made an enormous
success, meanwhile increasing his own property tenfold.
Other projects were the consequence of this first undertaking, and with
the increase of his means the magnitude of his schemes increased, and
it became clear that this was the field for the exercise of his
talents. He was not a man to ponder and pore for years over technical
details,--he needed to plunge into the life of the age, to venture and
contrive, making all possible interests subservient to his success, and
developing in all directions his great talent for organization.
In his restless activity he never failed to select the right man for
the right place; he overcame all obstacles, sought and found sources of
help everywhere, and fortune stood his energy in stead. The enterprises
of which Nordheim was the head were sure to succeed, and while he
himself became a millionaire, his influence in all circles with which
he had any connection was incalculable.
The president's wife had died a few years since,--a loss which was not
especially felt by him, for his marriage had not been a very happy one.
He had married when he was a simple engineer, and his quiet,
unpretending wife had not known how to accommodate herself to his
growing fortunes and to play the part of _grande dame_ to her husband's
satisfaction. Then too the son which she bore him, and whom he had
hoped to make the heir of his schemes, died when an infant. Alice was
born some years afterwards, a delicate, sickly child, for whose life
the greatest anxiety was always felt, and whose phlegmatic temperament
was antagonistic to the vivid energy of her father's nature. She was
his only daughter, his future heiress, and as such he surrounded her
with every luxury that wealth could procure, but she made no part of
his life, and he was glad to intrust her education and herself to the
Baroness Lasberg.
Nordheim's only sister, who had lived beneath his roof, had bestowed
her hand upon the Freiherr von Thurgau, then a captain in the army. Her
brother, who had just achieved his first successes, would have
preferred another suitor to the last scion of an impoverished noble
family, who possessed nothing save his sword and a small estate high up
among the mountains, but, since the couple loved each other tenderly
and there was no objection to be made to Thurgau personally, the
brother's consent was not withheld.
The young people lived very modestly, but in the enjoyment of a
domestic happiness quite lacking in Nordheim's wealthy household, and
their only child, the little Erna, grew up in the broad sunshine of
love and content. Unfortunately, Thurgau lost his wife after six years
of married life, and, sensitive as he was, the unexpected blow so
crushed him that he determined to leave the army, and to retire from
the world entirely. Nordheim, whose restless ambition could not
comprehend such a resolve, combated it most earnestly, but in vain; his
brother-in-law resisted him with all the obstinacy of his nature. He
quitted the service in which he had attained the rank of major, and
retired with his daughter to Wolkenstein Court, the modest income from
which, joined to his pension, sufficing for his simple needs.
Since then there had been a certain amount of estrangement between the
brothers-in-law; the mediating influence of the wife and sister was
lacking, and in addition their homes were very wide apart. They saw
each other rarely, and letters were interchanged still more rarely
until the construction of the mountain-railway and the necessity for
purchasing Thurgau's estate brought about a meeting.
CHAPTER IV.
THE LAST THURGAU.
About a week had passed since the visit to Heilborn, when Dr. Reinsfeld
again took his way to Wolkenstein Court, but on this occasion he was
not alone, for beside him walked Superintendent Elmhorst.
"I never should have dreamed, Wolfgang, that fate would bring us
together again here," said the young physician, gaily. "When we parted
two years ago, you jeered at me for going into 'the wilderness,' as you
were pleased to express yourself, and now you have sought it yourself."
"To bring cultivation to this wilderness," Wolfgang continued the
sentence. "You indeed seem very comfortable here; you have fairly taken
root in the miserable mountain-village where I discovered you, Benno; I
am working here for my future."
"I should think you might be contented with your present." Benno
observed. "A superintendent-engineer at twenty-seven,--it would be hard
to surpass that. Between ourselves, your comrades are furious at
your appointment. Take care, Wolf, or you will find yourself in a
wasps'-nest."
"Do you imagine I fear to be stung? I know all you say is true, and I
have already given the gentlemen to understand that I am not inclined
to tolerate obstacles thrown in my way, and that they must pay me the
respect due to a superior. If they want war, they shall have it!"
"Yes, you were always pugnacious; I never could endure to be
perpetually upon a war-footing with those about me."
"I know it; you are the same peace-loving old Benno that you always
were, who never could say a cross word to anyone, and who consequently
was maltreated by his beloved fellow-beings whenever an opportunity
offered. How often have I told you that you never could get on in the
world so! and to get on in the world is what we all desire."
"You certainly are striding on in seven-league boots," said Reinsfeld,
dryly. "You are the acknowledged favourite, they say, of the omnipotent
President Nordheim. I saw him again lately at Wolkenstein Court."
"Saw him again? Did you know him before?"
"Certainly, in my boyhood. He and my father were friends and
fellow-students; Nordheim used to come to our house daily; I have sat
upon his knee often enough when he spent the evening with us."
"Indeed? Well, I hope you reminded him of it when you met him."
"No; Baron Thurgau did not mention my name----"
"And of course you did not do so either," said Wolfgang, laughing.
"Just like you! Chance brings you into contact with an influential man
whose mere word would procure you an advantageous position, and you
never even tell him your name! I shall repair your omission; the first
time I see the president I shall tell him----"
"Pray do no such thing. Wolf," Benno interrupted him. "You had better
say nothing about it."
"And why not?"
"Because--the man has risen to such a height in life that he might not
like to be reminded of the time when he was a simple engineer."
"You do him injustice. He is proud of his humble origin, as all clever
men are, and he could not fail to be pleased to be reminded of an early
friend."
Reinsfeld gently shook his head. "I am afraid the memory would be a
painful one. Something happened later,--I never knew what,--I was a boy
at the time; but I know that the breach was complete. Nordheim never
came again to our house, and my father avoided even the mention of his
name; they were entirely estranged."
"Then of course you could not reckon upon his favour," said Elmhorst,
in a disappointed tone. "The president seems to me to be one who never
forgives a supposed offence."
"Yes, they say he has grown extremely haughty and domineering. I wonder
that you can get along with him. You are not a man to cringe."
"That is precisely why he likes me. I leave cringing and fawning to
servile souls who may perhaps thus procure some subordinate position.
Whoever wishes really to rise must hold his head erect and keep his
eyes fixed upon the goal above him, or he will continue to crawl on the
ground."
"I suppose your goal is a couple of millions," Benno said, ironically.
"You never were very modest in your plans for the future. What do you
wish to be? The president of your company?"
"Perhaps so at some future time; for the present only his son-in-law."
"I thought there was something of the kind in your mind!" exclaimed
Benno, bursting into a laugh. "Of course you are sure to be right,
Wolf; but why not rather pluck down yonder sun from the sky? It would
be quite as easy."
"Do you fancy I am in jest?" asked Wolfgang, coolly.
"Yes, I do take that liberty, for you cannot be serious in aspiring to
the daughter of a man whose wealth and consequence are almost
proverbial. Nordheim's heiress may choose among any number of Freiherrs
and Counts, if indeed she does not prefer a millionaire."
"Then all the Freiherrs and Counts must be outdone," said the young
engineer, calmly, "and that is what I propose to do."
Dr. Reinsfeld suddenly paused and looked at his friend with some
anxiety; he even made a slight movement as if to feel his pulse.
"Then you are either a little off your head or in love," he remarked,
with decision. "For a lover nothing is impossible, and this visit to
Heilborn seems to be fraught with destiny for you. My poor boy, this is
very sad."
"In love?" Wolfgang repeated, a smile of ineffable contempt curling his
lip. "No, Benno, you know I never have either time or inclination to
think of love, and now less than ever. But do not look so shocked, as
if I were talking high treason. I give you my word that Alice Nordheim,
if she marries me, shall never repent it. She shall have the most
attentive and considerate of husbands."
"Indeed you must forgive me for finding all this calculation most
sordid," the young physician burst forth indignantly. "You are young
and gifted; you have attained a position for which hundreds would envy
you, and which relieves you from all care; the future lies open before
you, and all you think of is the pursuit of a wealthy wife. For shame,
Wolfgang!"
"My dear Benno, you do not understand," Wolfgang declared, enduring his
friend's reproof with great serenity. "You idealists never comprehend
that we must take into account human nature and the world. You will, of
course, marry for love, spend your life slaving laboriously in some
obscure country town to procure bread for your wife and children, and
at last sink noiselessly into the grave with the edifying consciousness
that you have been true to your ideal. I am of another stripe,--I
demand of life everything or nothing."
"Well, then, in heaven's name win it by your own exertions!" exclaimed
Benno, growing every moment more and more indignant. "Your grand model,
President Nordheim, did it."
"He certainly did, but it took him more than twenty years. We are now
slowly and laboriously plodding up this mountain-road in the sweat of
our brows. Look at that winged fellow there!" He pointed to a huge bird
of prey circling above the abyss. "His wings will carry him in a few
minutes to the summit of the Wolkenstein. Yes, it must be fine to stand
up there and see the whole world at his feet, and to be near the sun. I
do not choose to wait for it until I am old and gray. I wish to mount
_now_ and, rely upon it, I shall dare the flight sooner or later."
He drew himself up to his full height; his dark eyes flashed, his fine
features were instinct with energy and ambition. The man impressed you
as capable of venturing a flight of which others would not even dream.
There was a sudden rustling among the larches on the side of the road,
and Griff came bounding down from above, and leaped about the young
physician in expectation of the wonted caress. His mistress also
appeared on the height, following the course which the dog had taken,
springing down over stones and roots of trees, directly through the
underbrush, until at last, with glowing cheeks, she reached the road.
Frau von Lasberg would certainly have found some satisfaction in the
manner in which the greeting of the Herr Superintendent was returned,
with all the cool dignity becoming a Baroness Thurgau, while a
contemptuous glance was cast at the elegance of the young man's
costume.
Elmhorst wore to-day an easy, loose suit bearing some similitude to the
dress of a mountaineer, and very like that of his friend, but it became
him admirably; he looked like some distinguished tourist making an
expedition with his guide. Dr. Reinsfeld with his negligent carriage
certainly showed to disadvantage beside that tall, slender figure; his
gray jacket and his hat were decidedly weather-worn, but that evidently
gave him no concern. His eyes sparkled with pleasure at sight of the
young girl, who greeted him with her wonted cordial familiarity.
"You are coming to us, Herr Doctor, are you not?" she asked.
"Of course, Fraeulein Erna; are you all well?"
"Papa was not well this morning, but he has nevertheless gone shooting.
I have been to meet him with Griff, but we could not find him; he must
have taken another way home."
She joined the two gentlemen, who now left the mountain-road and took
the somewhat steep path leading to Wolkenstein Court. Griff seemed
scarcely reconciled to the presence of the young engineer: he greeted
him with a growl and showed his teeth.
"What is the matter with Griff?" Reinsfeld asked. "He is usually kindly
and good-humoured with everybody."
"He does not seem to include me in his universal philanthropy," said
Elmhorst, with a shrug. "He has made me several such declarations of
war, and his good humour cannot always be depended upon; bestirred up a
terrible uproar in Heilborn, in the Herr President's drawing-room,
where Fraeulein von Thurgau achieved a deed of positive heroism in
comforting a little child whom the dog had nearly frightened to death."
"And, meanwhile, Herr Elmhorst applied himself to the succour of the
fainting ladies," Erna said, ironically. "Upon my return to the
drawing-room I observed his courteous attentions to both Alice and Frau
von Lasberg,--how impartially he deluged both with cologne. Oh, it was
diverting in the extreme!"
She laughed merrily. For an instant Elmhorst compressed his lips with
an angry glance at the girl, but the next he rejoined politely: "You
took such instant possession of the heroic part in the drama, Fraeulein
von Thurgau, that nothing was left for me but my insignificant _role_.
You cannot accuse me of timidity after meeting me upon the Wolkenstein,
although in my entire ignorance of the locality I did not reach the
summit."
"And you never will reach it," Reinsfeld interposed. "The summit is
inaccessible; even the boldest mountaineers are checked by those
perpendicular walls, and more than one foolhardy climber has forfeited
his life in the attempt to ascend them."
"Does the mountain-sprite guard her throne so jealously?" Elmhorst
asked, laughing. "She seems to be a most energetic lady, tossing about
avalanches as if they were snowballs, and requiring as many human
sacrifices yearly as any heathen goddess."
He looked up to the Wolkenstein,[1] which justified its title: while
all the other mountain-summits were defined clearly against the sky,
its top was hidden in white mists.
"You ought not to jest about it, Wolfgang," said the young physician,
with some irritation. "You have never yet spent an autumn and winter
here, and you do not know her, our wild mountain-sprite, the fearful
elemental force of the Alps, which only too frequently menaces the
lives and the dwellings of the poor mountaineers. She is feared, not
without reason, here in her realm; but you seem to have become quite
familiar with the legend."
"Fraeulein von Thurgau had the kindness to make me acquainted with the
stern dame," said Wolfgang. "She did indeed receive us very
ungraciously on the threshold of her palace, with a furious storm, and
I was not allowed the privilege of a personal introduction."
"Take care,--you might have to pay dearly for the favour!" exclaimed
Erna, irritated by his sarcasm. Elmhorst's mocking smile was certainly
provoking.
"Fraeulein von Thurgau, you must not expect from me any consideration
for mountain-sprites. I am here for the express purpose of waging war
against them. The industries of the nineteenth century have nothing in
common with the fear of ghosts. Pray do not look so indignant. Our
railway is not going over the Wolkenstein, and your mountain-sprite
will remain seated upon her throne undisturbed. Of course she cannot
but behold thence how we take possession of her realm and girdle it
with our chains. But I have not the remotest intention of interfering
with your faith. At _your_ age it is quite comprehensible."
He could not have irritated his youthful antagonist more deeply than by
these words, which so distinctly assigned her a place among children.
They were the most insulting that could be addressed to the girl of
sixteen, and they had their effect. Erna stood erect, as angry and
determined as if she herself had been threatened with fetters; her eyes
flashed as she exclaimed, with all the wayward defiance of a child, "I
wish the mountain-sprite would descend upon her wings of storm from the
Wolkenstein and show you her face,--you would not ask to see it again!"
With this she turned and flew, rather than ran, across the meadow, with
Griff after her. The slender figure, its curls unbound again to-day,
vanished in a few minutes within the house. Wolfgang paused and looked
after her; the sarcastic smile still hovered upon his lips, but there
was a sharp tone in his voice.
"What is Baron Thurgau thinking of, to let his daughter grow up so? She
would be quite impossible in civilized surroundings; she is barely
tolerable in this mountain wilderness."
"Yes, she has grown up wild and free as an Alpine rose," said Benno,
whose eyes were still fixed upon the door behind which Erna had
disappeared. Elmhorst turned suddenly and looked keenly at his friend.
"You are actually poetical! Are you touched there?"
"I?" asked Benno, surprised, almost dismayed. "What are you thinking
of?"
"I only thought it strange to have you season your speech with
imagery,--it is not your way. Moreover, your 'Alpine rose' is an
extremely wayward, spoiled child; you will have to educate her first."
The words were not uttered as an innocent jest; they had a harsh,
sarcastic flavour, and apparently offended the young physician, who
replied, irritably, "No more of this, Wolf! Rather tell me what takes
you to Wolkenstein Court. You wish to speak with the Freiherr?"
"Yes; but our interview can hardly be an agreeable one. You know that
we need the estate for our line of railway; it was refused us, and we
had to fall back upon our right of compulsion. The obstinate old Baron
was not content: he protested again and again, and refused to allow a
survey to be made upon his soil. The man positively fancies that his
'no' will avail him. Of course his protest was laid upon the table, and
since the time of probation granted him has expired and we are in
possession, I am to inform him that the preliminary work is about to
begin."
Reinsfeld had listened in silence with an extremely grave expression,
and his voice showed some anxiety as he said, "Wolf, let me beg you not
to go about this business with your usual luck of consideration. The
Freiherr is really not responsible on this head. I have taken pains
again and again to explain to him that his opposition must be
fruitless, but he is thoroughly convinced that no one either can or
will take from him his inheritance. He is attached to it with every
fibre of his heart, and if he really must relinquish it, I am afraid it
will go nigh to kill him."
"Not at all! He will yield like a reasonable man as soon as he sees the
unavoidable necessity. I certainly shall be duly considerate, since he
is the president's brother-in-law; otherwise I should not have come
hither to-day, but have set the engineers to work. Nordheim wishes that
everything should be done to spare the old man's feelings, and so I
have undertaken the affair myself."
"There will be a scene," said Benno, "Baron Thurgau is the best man in
the world, but incredibly passionate and violent when he thinks his
rights infringed upon. You do not know him yet."
"You mistake; I have the honour of knowing him, and his primitive
characteristics. He gave me an opportunity of observing them at
Heilborn, and I am prepared to-day to meet with the roughest usage. But
you are right; the man is irresponsible in matters of grave importance,
and I shall treat him accordingly."
They had now reached the house, which they entered. Thurgau had just
come in; his gun still lay on the table, and beside it a couple of
moor-fowl, the result of his morning's sport. Erna had probably advised
him of the coming visitors, for he showed no surprise at sight of the
young superintendent.
"Well, doctor," he called out to Reinsfeld, with a laugh, "you are just
in time to see how disobedient I have been. There lie my betrayers!" He
pointed to his gun and the trophies of his chase.
"Your looks would have informed me," Reinsfeld replied, with a glance
at the Freiherr's crimson, heated face. "Moreover, you were not well
this morning, I hear."
He would have felt Thurgau's pulse, but the hand was withdrawn: "Time
enough for that after a while; you bring me a guest."
"I have taken the liberty of calling upon you, Herr von Thurgau," said
Wolfgang, approaching; "and if I am not unwelcome----"
"As a man you are certainly welcome, as a superintendent-engineer you
are not," the Freiherr declared, after his blunt fashion. "I am glad to
see you, but not a word of your cursed railway, I entreat, or, in spite
of the duties of hospitality, I shall turn you out of doors."
He placed a chair for his guest and took his own accustomed seat.
Elmhorst saw at a glance how difficult his errand would be; he felt as
a tiresome burden the consideration he was compelled by circumstances
to pay, but the burden must be shouldered, and so he began at first in
a jesting tone.
"I am aware of what a fierce foe you are to our enterprise. My office
is the worst of recommendations in your eyes; therefore I did not
venture to come alone, but brought my friend with me as a protection."
"Dr. Reinsfeld is a friend of yours?" asked Thurgau, in whose
estimation the young official seemed suddenly to rise.
"A friend of my boyhood; we were at the same school, and afterwards
studied at the same university, although our professions differed. I
hunted up Benno as soon as I came here, and I trust we shall always be
good comrades."
"Yes, we all lived here very pleasantly so long as we were by
ourselves," the Freiherr said, aggressively. "When you came here with
your cursed railway the worry began, and when the shrieking and
whistling begin there will be an end of comfort and quiet."
"Now, papa, you are transgressing your own rule and talking of the
railway," Erna cried, laughing. "But you must come with me, Herr
Doctor. I want to show you what my cousin Alice has sent me from
Heilborn; it is charming."
With the eager impatience of a child, who cannot wait to display its
treasures, she carried off the young physician into the next room, thus
giving the Herr Superintendent fresh occasion to disapprove of her
education, or rather of the want of it. On this point he quite agreed
with Frau Lasberg. What sort of way was this to behave towards a young
man, were he even ten times a physician and the friend of the family!
Benno as he followed her glanced anxiously at the two left behind; he
knew what topic would now be discussed, but he relied upon his friend's
talent for diplomacy, and, moreover, the door was left open. If the
tempest raged too fiercely, he might interfere.
"Yes, yes, the matter cannot be avoided," the Freiherr growled, and
Elmhorst, glad to come to business, took up his words.
"You are quite right, Herr Baron, it will not be ignored, and on peril
of your fulfilling your threat and really turning me out of doors, I
must present myself to you as the agent of the railway company
intrusted with imparting to you certain information. The measurements
and surveys upon the Wolkenstein estate cannot possibly be delayed any
longer, and the engineers will go to work here in the course of a few
days."
"They will do no such thing!" Thurgau exclaimed, angrily. "How often
must I repeat that I will not allow anything of the kind upon my
property!"
"Upon your property? The estate is no longer your property," said
Elmhorst, calmly. "The company bought it months ago, and the
purchase-money has been lying ready ever since. That business was
finished long ago."
"Nothing has been finished!" shouted the Freiherr, his irritation
increasing. "Do you imagine I care a button for judgments that outrage
all justice, and which your company procured God only knows by what
rascality? Do you suppose I am going to leave my house and home to make
way for your locomotives? Not one step will I stir, and if----"
"Pray do not excite yourself thus, Herr von Thurgau," Wolfgang
interrupted him. "At present there is no idea of driving you away,--it
is only that the preliminary surveys must be begun; the house itself
will remain entirely at your disposal until next spring."
"Very kind of you!" Thurgau laughed, bitterly. "Till next spring! And
what then?"
"Then, of course, it must go."
The Freiherr was about to burst forth again, but there was something in
the young man's cool composure that forced him to control himself. He
made an effort to do so, but his colour deepened and his breath was
short and laboured, as he said, roughly,--
"Does that seem to you a matter 'of course'? But what can you know of
the devotion a man feels for his inheritance? You belong, like my
brother-in-law, to the century of steam. He builds himself three--four
palaces, each more gorgeous than its predecessor, and in none of them
is he at home. He lives in them one day and sells them the next, as the
whim takes him. Wolkenstein Court has been the home of the Thurgaus for
two centuries, and shall remain so until the last Thurgau closes his
eyes, rely----"
He broke off in the midst of his sentence, and, as if suddenly attacked
by vertigo, grasped the table, but it was only for a few seconds;
angry, as it were, at the unwonted weakness, he stood erect again and
went on with ever-increasing bitterness: "We have lost all else; we did
not understand how to bargain and to hoard, and gradually all has
vanished save the old nest where stood the cradle of our line; to that
we have held fast through ruin and disaster. We would sooner have
starved than have relinquished it. And now comes your railway, and
threatens to raze my house to the ground, to trample upon rights
hundreds of years old, and to take from me what is mine by the law of
justice and of God! Only try it! I say no,--and again no. It is my last
word."
He did indeed look ready to make good his refusal with his life, and
another man might either have been silent or have postponed further
discussion. But Wolfgang had no idea of anything of the kind; he had
undertaken to bring the matter to a conclusion, and he persisted.
"Those mountains outside," he said, gravely, "have been standing longer
than Wolkenstein Court, and the forests are more firmly rooted in the
soil than are you in your home, and yet they must yield. I am afraid
Herr von Thurgau, that you have no conception of the gigantic nature of
our undertaking, of the means at its disposal, and of the obstacles it
must overcome. We penetrate rocks and forests, divert rivers from their
course, and bridge across abysses. Whatever is in our path must give
way. We come off victorious in our battle with the elements. Ask
yourself if the will of one man can bar our progress."
A pause of a few seconds ensued. Thurgau made no reply; his furious
anger seemed dissipated by the invincible composure of his opponent,
who confronted him with perfect respect and an entire adherence to
courtesy. But his clear voice had an inexorable tone, and the look
which encountered that of the Freiherr with such cold resolve seemed to
cast a spell upon Thurgau. He had hitherto shown himself entirely
impervious to all persuasion, all explanation; he had, with all the
obstinacy of his character, intrenched himself behind his rights, as
impregnable, in his estimation, as the mountains themselves. To-day for
the first time it occurred to him that his antagonism might be
shattered, that he might be forced to succumb to a power that had laid
its iron grasp thus upon the mountains. He leaned heavily upon the
table again and struggled for breath, while speech seemed denied him.
"You may rest assured that we shall proceed with all possible regard
for you," Wolfgang began again. "The preliminary work which we are
about to undertake will scarcely disturb you, and during the winter you
will be entirely unmolested; the construction of the road will not
begin until the spring, and then, of course----"
"I must yield, you think," Thurgau interposed, hoarsely.
"Yes, you _must_, Herr Baron," said Elmhorst, coldly.
The fateful word, the truth of which instantly sank into his
consciousness, robbed the Freiherr of the last remnant of composure; he
rebelled against it with a violence that was almost terrifying, and
that might well have caused a doubt as to his mental balance.
"But I will not,--will not, I tell you!" he gasped, almost beside
himself "Let rocks and mountains make way before you, _I_ will not
yield. Have a care of our mountains, lest, when you are so arrogantly
interfering with them, they rush down upon you and shatter all your
bridges and structures like reeds. I should like to stand by and see
the accursed work a heap of ruins; I should like----"
He did not finish his sentence, but convulsively clutched at his
breast; his last word died away in a kind of groan, and on the instant
the mighty frame fell prostrate as if struck by lightning.
"Good God!" exclaimed Dr. Reinsfeld, who had appeared at the door of
the next room just as the last sentences were being uttered, and who
now hurried in. But Erna was before him; she first reached her father,
and threw herself down beside him with a cry of terror.
"Do not be distressed, Fraeulein Erna," said the young physician, gently
pushing her aside, while with Elmhorst's help he raised the unconscious
man and laid him on the sofa. "It is a fainting-fit,--an attack of
vertigo such as the Herr Baron had a few weeks ago. He will recover
from this too."
The young girl had followed him, and stood beside him with her hands
convulsively clasped and her eyes riveted upon the face of the speaker.
Perhaps she saw there something that contradicted the consoling words.
"No, no!" she gasped. "You are deceiving me; this is something else!
Papa! papa! it is I. Do you not know your Erna?"
Benno made no rejoinder, but tore open Thurgau's coat; Elmhorst would
have helped him, but Erna thrust away his hand with violence.
"Do not touch him!" she exclaimed, in half-stifled accents. "You have
killed him, you have brought ruin to our household. Leave him! I will
not let you even touch his hand!"
Wolfgang involuntarily recoiled and looked in dismay that was almost
terror at the girl, who at this moment was no longer a child. She had
thrown herself before her father with outspread arms as if to shield
and defend him, and her eyes flashed with savage hatred as though she
were confronting a mortal foe.
"Go, Wolfgang," Reinsfeld said in a low tone, as he led him away. "The
poor child in her anguish is unjust, and, moreover, you must not stay.
The Baron may possibly recover consciousness, and if so he must not see
you."
"May recover?" Elmhorst repeated. "Do you fear----"
"The worst! Go, and send old Vroni here; she must be somewhere in the
house. Wait outside, and I will bring you tidings as soon as possible."
With these whispered words he conducted his friend to the door.
Wolfgang silently obeyed; he sent into the room the old maid-servant,
whom he found in the hall, and then went out into the open air, but
there was a dark cloud on his brow. Who could have foreseen such an
issue!
A quarter of an hour might have elapsed, when Benno Reinsfeld again
made his appearance. He was very pale, and his eyes, usually so clear,
were suffused.
"Well?" Wolfgang asked, quickly.
"It is all over!" the young physician replied in an undertone. "A
stroke of apoplexy, undoubtedly mortal. I saw that at once."
Wolfgang was apparently unprepared for this reply; his lips quivered as
he said in a strained voice, "The affair is intensely painful, Benno,
although I am not in the least to blame. I went to work with the
greatest caution. The president must be informed."
"Certainly; he is the only near relative, so far as I know. I shall
stay with the poor child, who is suffering intensely. Will you
undertake to send a messenger to Heilborn?"
"I will drive over myself to inform Nordheim. Farewell."
"Farewell," said Benno, as he returned to the house.
Wolfgang turned to go, but suddenly paused and walked slowly to the
window, which was half open.
Within the room Erna was on her knees, with her hands clasped about her
father's body. The passionate man who had been standing here but one
short quarter of an hour ago in full vigour, obstinately resisting a
necessity, now lay motionless, all unconscious of the despairing tears
of his orphan child. Fate had decreed that his words should be true;
Wolkenstein Court had remained in the possession of the ancient race
whose cradle it had been until the last Thurgau had closed his eyes
forever.
CHAPTER V.
THE LOVER AND THE SUITOR.
The house which President Nordheim occupied in the capital bore
abundant testimony in its princely magnificence to the wealth of its
possessor. It reared its palatial proportions in the most fashionable
quarter of the city, and had been built by one of the first architects
of the day; there was lavish splendour in its interior arrangements,
and a throng of obsequious lackeys was always at hand; in short,
nothing was wanting that could minister to the luxurious life of its
inmates.
At the head of the household the Baroness Lasberg had held sway for
years. Widowed and without means, she had been quite willing to accept
such a position in the establishment of the wealthy parvenu to whom she
had been recommended by some one of her highborn relatives. Here she
was perfectly free to rule as she pleased, for Nordheim, with all his
strength of will, could not but regard it as a great convenience to
have a lady of undoubted birth and breeding control his servants,
receive his guests, and supply the place of mother to his daughter and
niece. For three years Erna von Thurgau had now been living beneath the
roof of her uncle, who was also her guardian, and who had taken her to
his home immediately after the death of her father.
The president was in his study, talking with a gentleman seated
opposite him, one of the first lawyers in the city and the legal
adviser of the railway company of which Nordheim was president. He
seemed also to belong among the intimates of the household, for the
conversation was conducted upon a footing of familiarity, although it
concerned chiefly business matters.
"You ought to discuss this with Elmhorst personally," said the
president. "He can give you every information upon the subject."
"Is he here?" asked the lawyer, in some surprise.
"He has been here since yesterday, and will probably stay for a week."
"I am glad to hear it; our city seems to possess special attractions
for the Herr Superintendent; he is often here, it seems to me."
"He certainly is, and in accordance with my wishes. I desire to be more
exactly informed with regard to certain matters than is possible by
letter. Moreover, Elmhorst never leaves his post unless he is certain
that he can be spared; of that you may be sure, Herr Gersdorf."
Herr Gersdorf, a man of about forty, very fine-looking, with a grave,
intellectual face, seemed to think his words had been misunderstood,
for he smiled rather ironically as he rejoined, "I certainly do not
doubt Herr Elmhorst's zeal in the performance of duty. We all know he
would be more apt to do too much than too little. The company may
congratulate itself upon having secured in its service so much energy
and ability."
"It certainly is not owing to the company that it is so," said
Nordheim, with a shrug. "I had to contest the matter with energy when I
insisted upon his nomination, and his position was at first made so
difficult for him, that any other man would have resigned it. He met
with determined hostility on all sides."
"But he very soon overcame it," said Gersdorf, dryly. "I remember the
storm that raged among his fellow-officials when he assumed authority
over them, but they gradually quieted down. The Herr Superintendent is
a man of unusual force of character, and has contrived to gather all
the reins into his own hand in the course of the last three years. It
is pretty well known now that he will tolerate no one as his superior
or even equal in authority, save only the engineer-in-chief, who is now
entirely upon his side."
"I do not blame him for his ambition," the president said, coolly.
"Whoever wishes to rise must force his way. My judgment did not play me
false when it induced me to confirm in so important an office, in spite
of all opposition, a man so young. The engineer-in-chief was prejudiced
against him, and only yielded reluctantly. Now he is glad to have so
capable a support; and as for the Wolkenstein bridge,--Elmhorst's own
work,--he may well take first rank upon its merits."
"The bridge promises to be a masterpiece indeed," Gersdorf assented. "A
magnificently bold structure; it will doubtless be the finest thing in
the entire line of railway. So you wish me to speak with the
superintendent himself; shall I find him at his usual hotel?"
"No, at present you will find him here. I have invited him to stay with
us this time."
"Ah, indeed?" Gersdorf smiled. He knew that officials of Elmhorst's
rank were sometimes obliged to await Nordheim's pleasure for hours in
his antechamber; this young man had been invited to be a guest beneath
his roof. Still more wonderful stories were told of his liking for
Elmhorst, who had been his favourite from the first.
For the present, however, the lawyer let the matter drop, contenting
himself with remarking that he would see Herr Elmhorst shortly. He had
other and more important affairs in his head apparently, for he took
his leave of the president rather absently, and seemed in no hurry to
seek out the young engineer; the card which he gave to the servant in
the hall was for the ladies of the house, whom he asked to see.
The reception-rooms were in the second story, where Frau von Lasberg
was enthroned in the drawing-room in all her wonted state. Alice was
seated near her, very little changed by the past three years. She was
still the same frail, pale creature, with a weary, listless expression
on her regular features,--a hot-house plant to be guarded closely from
every draught of air, an object of unceasing care and solicitude for
all around her. Her health seemed to be more firmly established, but
there was not a gleam of the freshness or enthusiasm of youth in her
colourless face.
There was no want of them, however, to be detected in the young lady
seated beside the Baroness Lasberg, a graceful little figure in a most
becoming walking-suit of dark blue trimmed with fur. A charming, rosy
face looked out from beneath her blue velvet hat; the eyes were dark,
and sparkling with mischief, and a profusion of little black curls
showed above them. She laughed and talked incessantly with all the
vivacity of her eighteen years.
"Such a pity that Erna is out!" she exclaimed. "I had something very
important to discuss with her. Not a syllable of it shall you hear,
Alice; it is to be a surprise for your birthday. I hope we are to have
dancing at your ball?"
"I hardly think so," said Alice, indifferently. "This is March, you
know."
"But the middle of winter, nevertheless. It snowed only this morning,
and dancing is always delightful." As she spoke, her little feet moved
as if ready for an instant proof of her preference. Frau von Lasberg
looked at them with disapprobation, and remarked, coldly,--
"I believe you have danced a great deal this winter, Baroness Molly."
"Not nearly enough," the little Baroness declared. "How I pity poor
Alice for being forbidden to dance! It is good to enjoy one's youth;
when you're married there's an end of it. 'Marry and worry,' our old
nurse used to say, and then burst into tears and talk of her dear
departed. A mournful maxim. Do you believe in it, Alice?"
"Alice bestows no thought upon such matters," the old lady observed,
severely. "I must frankly confess to you, my dear Molly, that this
topic seems to me quite unbecoming."
"Oh!" exclaimed Molly "do you consider marriage unbecoming, then,
madame?"
"With consent and approval of parents, and a due regard for every
consideration,--no."
"But it is just then that it is most tiresome!" the young lady
asserted, rousing even Alice from her indifference.
"But, Molly!" she said, reproachfully.
"Baroness Ernsthausen is jesting, of course," said Frau von Lasberg,
with an annihilating glance. "But even in jest such talk is extremely
reprehensible. A young lady cannot be too guarded in her expressions
and conduct. Society is, unfortunately, too ready to gossip."
Her words had, perhaps, some concealed significance, for Molly's lips
quivered as if longing to laugh, but she replied with the most innocent
air in the world,--
"You are perfectly right, madame. Just think, last summer everybody at
Heilborn was gossiping about the frequent visits of Superintendent
Elmhorst. He came almost every week----"
"To see the Herr President," the old lady interposed. "Herr Elmhorst
had made the plans and drawings for the new villa in the mountains and
was himself superintending its construction; frequent consultations
were unavoidable."
"Yes, everybody knew that, but still they gossiped. They talked about
Herr Elmhorst's baskets of flowers and other attentions, and they
said----"
"I must really beg you, Baroness, to spare us further details," Frau
von Lasberg interposed, rising in indignant majesty. The inconsiderate
young lady would probably have received a much longer reprimand had not
a servant announced that the carriage was waiting. Frau von Lasberg
turned to Alice: "I must go to the meeting of the Ladies' Union, my
child, and of course you cannot drive out in this rough weather.
Moreover, you seem to be rather out of sorts; I fear----"
A very significant glance completed her sentence, and testified to her
earnest desire for the visitor's speedy departure, but quite in vain.
"I will stay with Alice and amuse her," Molly declared, with amiable
readiness. "You can go without any anxiety, madame."
Madame compressed her lips in mild despair, but she knew from
experience that there was no getting rid of this _enfant terrible_ if
she had taken it into her head to stay; therefore she kissed Alice's
forehead, inclined her head to her young friend, and made a dignified
exit.
Scarcely had the door closed after her when Molly danced about like an
india-rubber ball with, "Thank God, she has gone, high and mighty old
duenna that she is! I have something to tell you, Alice, something
immensely important,--that is, I wanted to confide it to Erna, but,
unfortunately, she is not here, and so you must help me,--you must! or
you will blast forever the happiness of two human beings!"
"Who? I?" asked Alice, who at such a tremendous appeal could not but
open her eyes.
"Yes, you; but you know nothing yet. I must explain everything
to you, and there goes twelve o'clock, and Albert will be here in a
moment,--Herr Gersdorf, I mean. The fact is, he loves me, and I love
him, and of course we want to marry each other, but my father and
mother will not consent because he is not noble. Good heavens, Alice,
do not look so surprised! I learned to know him in your house, and it
was in your conservatory that he proposed to me a week ago, when that
famous violinist was playing in the music-room and all the other people
were listening."
"But----" Alice tried to interpose, but without avail; the little
Baroness went on, pouring out the story of her love and her woes.
"Do not interrupt me; I have told you nothing yet. When we went home
that evening I told my father and mother that I was betrothed, and that
Albert was coming the next day to ask their consent. Oh, what a row
there was! Papa was indignant, mamma was outraged, and my granduncle
fairly snorted with rage. He is a hugely-important person, my
granduncle, because he is so very rich, and we shall have his money.
But he must die first, and he has no idea of dying, which is very bad
for us, papa says, for we have nothing; papa never makes out with his
salary, and my granduncle, while he lives, never will give us a penny.
There, now you understand!"
"No, I do not understand at all," said Alice, fairly stupefied by this
overwhelming stream of confidence. "What has your granduncle to do with
it?"
Molly wrung her hands in despair at this lack of comprehension: "Alice,
I entreat you not to be so stupid! I tell you they actually passed
sentence upon me. Mamma said she was threatened with spasms at the mere
thought of my ever being called Frau Gersdorf; papa insisted that I
must not throw myself away, because at some future time I should be a
great match, at which my granduncle made a wry face, not much edified
by this reference to the heirship, and then he went on to make a
greater row than any one else about the _mesalliance_. He enumerated
all our ancestors, who would one and all turn in their graves. What do
I care for that? let the old fellows turn as much as they like; it will
be a change for them in their tiresome old ancestral vault.
Unfortunately, I took the liberty of saying so, and then the storm
burst upon me from all three sides at once. My granduncle raised his
hand and made a vow, and then I made one too. I stood up before him,
so,"--she stamped her foot on the carpet,--"and vowed that never, never
would I forsake my Albert!"
The little Baroness was forced to stop for a moment to take breath, and
she availed herself of this involuntary pause to run to the window,
whence came the sound of a carriage rolling away; then flying back
again, she exclaimed, "She has gone,--the duenna. Thank God, we are rid
of her! She suspects something; I knew it by the remarks with which she
favoured me this morning! But she has gone for the present; her meeting
will last for at least two hours. I reckoned upon that when I laid my
plans. You must know, Alice, that I have been strictly forbidden either
to speak or to write to Albert; of course I wrote to him immediately,
and I must speak with him besides. So I made an appointment with him
here in your drawing-room, and you must be the guardian angel of our
love."
Alice did not appear greatly charmed by the part thus assigned her. She
had listened to the entire story in a way which positively outraged the
eager Molly, without any 'ah's' or 'oh's,' and in mute astonishment
that such things could be. A betrothal without, and even against, the
consent of parents was something quite outside of the young lady's
power of comprehension. Frau von Lasberg's training did not admit of
such ideas. So she sat upright, and said, with a degree of decision,
"No, that would not be proper."
"What would not be proper? your being a guardian angel?" Molly
exclaimed, indignantly. "Are you going to betray my confidence? Do you
wish to drive us to despair and death? For we shall die, both of us, if
we are parted. Can you answer it to your conscience?"
Fortunately, there was no time to settle this question of conscience,
for Herr Gersdorf was announced, and there was a distressing moment of
hesitation. Alice really seemed inclined to declare that she was ill
and could not receive the visitor, but Molly, in dread of some such
disaster, advanced and said aloud and quite dictatorially, "Show Herr
Gersdorf in."
The servant vanished, and with a sigh Alice sank back again in her
arm-chair. She had done her best, and had tried to resist, but since
the words were thus taken out of her mouth she was not called upon for
further effort, but must let the affair take its course.
Herr Gersdorf entered, and Molly flew to meet him, ready to be clasped
in his arms, instead of which he kissed her hand respectfully, and,
still retaining it in his clasp, approached the young mistress of the
house.
"First of all, Fraeulein Nordheim, I must ask your forgiveness for the
extraordinary demands which my betrothed has made upon your friendship.
You probably know that, after her consent to be my wife, I wished
immediately to procure that of her parents, but Baron Ernsthausen has
refused to see me."
"And he locked _me_ up," Molly interpolated, "for the entire forenoon."
"I then wrote to the Baron," Gersdorf continued, "and made my proposal
in due form, but received in return a cold refusal without any
statement of his reasons therefor. Baron Ernsthausen wrote me----"
"A perfectly odious letter," Molly again interposed, "but my granduncle
dictated it. I know he did, for I listened at the keyhole!"
"At all events it was a refusal; but, since Molly has freely accorded
me her heart and hand, I shall assuredly assert my rights, and
therefore I believed myself justified in availing myself of this
opportunity of seeing my betrothed, although without the knowledge of
her parents. Once more I entreat your forgiveness, Fraeulein Nordheim.
Be sure that we shall not abuse your kindness."
It all sounded so frank, so cordial and manly, that Alice began to find
the matter far more natural, and in a few words signified her
acquiescence. She could not indeed comprehend how this grave, reserved
man, who seemed absorbed in the duties of his profession, had fallen in
love with Molly, who was like nothing but quicksilver, nor that his
love was returned, but there was no longer any doubt of the fact.
"You need not listen, Alice," Molly said, consolingly. "Take a book and
read, or if you really do not feel quite well, lay your head back and
go to sleep. We shall not mind it in the least, only do not let us be
interrupted."
With which she led the way to the recess of a window half shut off from
the room by Turkish curtains looped aside. Here the conversation of the
lovers was at first carried on in whispers, but the vivacious little
Baroness soon manifested her eagerness by louder tones, so that at last
Alice could not choose but hear. She had taken up a book, but it
dropped in her lap as the terrible word 'elopement' fell on her ear.
"There is no other way," Molly said, as dictatorially as when she had
ordered the servant to admit her lover. "You must carry me off, and it
must be the day after to-morrow at half-past twelve. My granduncle
leaves for his castle at that time, and my father and mother go with
him to the railway-station; they always make so much of him. Meanwhile,
we can slip off conveniently. We'll travel as far as Gretna Green,
wherever that is,--I have read that there are no tiresome preliminaries
to be gone through with there,--and we can return as man and wife. Then
all my dead ancestors may stand on their heads, and so may my
granduncle, for that matter, if I may only belong to you."
This entire scheme was advanced in a tone of assured conviction, but it
did not meet with the expected approval; Gersdorf said, gravely and
decidedly,--
"No, Molly, that will not do."
"Not? Why not?"
"Because there are laws and injunctions which expressly forbid such
romantic excursions. Your fanciful little brain has no conception as
yet of life and its duties; but I know them, and it would ill become
me, whose vocation it is to defend the law, to trample it underfoot."
"What do I care for laws and injunctions?" said Molly, deeply offended
by this cool rejection of her romantic scheme. "How can you talk of
such prosaic things when our love is at stake? What are we to do if
papa and mamma persist in saying no?"
"First of all we must wait until your granduncle has really gone home.
There is nothing to be done with that stiff old aristocrat; in his eyes
I, as a man without a title, am perfectly unfitted to woo a Baroness
Ernsthausen. As soon as his influence is no longer present in your
household I shall surely have an interview with your father, and shall
try to overcome his prejudice; it will be no easy task, but we must
have patience and wait."
The little Baroness was thunderstruck at this declaration, this utter
ruin of all her air-built castles. Instead of the romantic flight and
secret marriage of which she had dreamed, here was her lover
counselling patience and prudence; instead of bearing her off in his
arms, he talked as if he were ready to institute legal proceedings for
her possession. It was altogether too much, and she burst out angrily,
"You had better declare at once that you do not care for me, after all;
that you have not the courage to win me. You talked very differently
before we were betrothed. But I give you back your troth; I will part
from you forever; I----" Here she began to sob. "I will marry some man
with no end of ancestors whom my granduncle approves of, but I shall
die of grief, and before the year is out I shall be in my grave."
"Molly!"
"Let go my hand!" But he held it fast.
"Molly, look at me! Do you seriously doubt my love?"
This was the tender tone which Molly remembered only too well,--the
tone in which the words had been spoken that evening in the fragrant,
dim conservatory, to which she had listened with a throbbing heart and
glowing cheeks. She stopped sobbing and looked up through her tears at
her lover as he bent above her.
"Darling Molly, have you no confidence in me? You have given yourself
to me, and I shall keep you for my own in spite of all opposition. Be
sure I shall not let my happiness be snatched from me, although some
time may pass before I can carry home my little wife."
It sounded so fervent, so faithful, that Molly's tears ceased to flow;
her head leaned gently on her lover's shoulder, and a smile played
about her lips, as she asked, half archly, half distrustfully, "But,
Albert, we surely shall not have to wait until you are as old as my
granduncle?"
"No, not nearly so long, my darling," Albert replied, kissing away a
tear from the long lashes, "for then, wayward child that you are, ready
to fly off if I do not obey your will on the instant, you would have
nothing to say to me."
"Oh, yes, I should, however old you were!" exclaimed Molly. "I love you
so dearly, Albert!"
Again the voices sank to whispers, and the close of the conversation
was inaudible. In about five minutes the lovers advanced again into the
drawing-room, just in time to meet the Herr Superintendent Elmhorst,
who, as the guest of the house, entered unannounced.
Wolfgang had gained much in personal appearance during the last three
years; his features had grown more decided and manly, his bearing was
prouder and more resolute. The young man who when we saw him last had
but just placed his foot on the first round of the ladder, which he was
determined to ascend, had now learned to mount and to command, but in
spite of the consciousness of power, which was revealed in his entire
air, there was nothing the least offensive in his demeanour; he seemed
to be one whose superiority of nature had involuntarily asserted
itself.
He had brought with him a bunch of lovely flowers, which he presented
with a few courteous words to the young mistress of the house. There
was no need of an introduction to Gersdorf, who had often seen him, and
Molly had made his acquaintance at Heilborn, where she had passed the
preceding summer. There was some general conversation, but Gersdorf
took his leave shortly, and ten minutes afterwards Molly too departed.
She would have been glad to stay, to pour out her heart to Alice, but
this Herr Elmhorst did not seem at all inclined to go; indeed, in spite
of all his courtesy the little Baroness could not help feeling that he
considered her presence here superfluous; she took her leave, but said
to herself as she passed down the staircase, "There's something going
on there."
She was perhaps right, but the 'something' did not make very rapid
progress. Alice smelled at her bouquet of camellias and violets, but
looked very listless the while. The wealthy heiress, who had always
been the object of devoted attention on all sides, had been loaded with
flowers, and took no special pleasure in them. Wolfgang sat opposite
her and entertained her after his usual interesting fashion; he talked
of the new villa which Nordheim had had built in the mountains and
which the family were to occupy for the first time the coming summer.
"The interior arrangements will all be complete before you arrive," he
said. "The house itself was finished in the autumn, and the vicinity of
the line of railway made it possible for me to superintend everything
personally. You will soon feel at home among the mountains, Fraeulein
Nordheim."
"I know them already," said Alice, still trifling with her flowers. "We
go to Heilborn regularly every summer."
"Merely a summer promenade, with the mountains for a background,"
Elmhorst said. "Those are not the mountains which you will learn to
know in your new home; the situation is magnificent, and I flatter
myself that you will be pleased with the home itself. It is indeed only
a simple mountain-villa, but as such I was expressly ordered to
construct it."
"Papa says it is a little masterpiece of architecture," Alice remarked,
quietly.
Wolfgang smiled and, as if accidentally, moved his chair a little
nearer: "I should be very glad to acquit myself well as an architect.
It is not exactly my _metier_, but _you_ were to occupy the villa,
Fraeulein Alice, and I could not leave it to other hands. I obtained
permission from the president to build the little mountain-home, which
he tells me he intends shall be your special property."
The significance of his words was sufficiently plain, as was also his
intimation of her father's approval, but the young lady neither blushed
nor seemed confused; she merely said, with her usual indifferent
lassitude,--
"Yes, papa means the villa shall be a present to me; therefore he did
not wish me to see it until it was entirely finished. It was very kind
of you, Herr Elmhorst, to undertake its construction."
"Pray do not praise me," Wolfgang hastily interposed. "On the contrary,
it was rank selfishness that caused me to thrust myself forward in the
matter. Every architect asks to be paid, and the recompense for which I
sue may well seem to you presumptuous. Nevertheless may I speak--may I
ask of you what it has long been in my heart to entreat?"
Alice slowly raised her large brown eyes to his with an inquiring
expression that was almost melancholy and that seemed fain to read the
truth in the young man's resolute face. She read there eager
expectation, but nothing more, and the questioning eyes were again
veiled beneath their long lashes. She made no reply.
Wolfgang seemed to consider her silence as an encouragement; he
arose and approached her chair, as he went on: "My request is a bold
one, I know it, but 'Fortune favours the bold.' So I told the Herr
President when I first besought of him the honour of an introduction to
you. It has always been my motto, and I cling to it to-day. Will you
listen to me, Alice?"
She slightly inclined her head, and made no resistance when he took her
hand and carried it to his lips. He went on, making a formal proposal
for her hand in well-chosen, courteous terms, his melodious voice
adding greatly to the eloquence of his words. All that was lacking was
ardour; this was a suit for her hand, not a declaration of love.
Alice listened mutely in no surprise; it had long been an open secret
to her that Elmhorst was her suitor, and she knew, too, that her
father, discouraging as he had shown himself hitherto to the advances
of other men, favoured Elmhorst's suit. He permitted the young man a
freedom of intercourse in his house accorded to no other, and he had
frequently expressly declared in his daughter's presence that Wolfgang
Elmhorst had a brilliant career before him, worth in his eyes
incalculably more than the scutcheons of men of rank, who were fain to
rehabilitate the faded splendour of their names with a wife's money.
Alice herself was too docile to have any will in the matter; it had
been impressed upon her from earliest childhood that a well-bred young
lady should marry in accordance with her parents' wishes, and she
might have found nothing wanting in this extremely correct proposal
had not Molly hit upon the idea of making her the guardian angel of a
love-affair.
That scene in the window-recess had been so very different; those
whispered tones, caressing, cajoling the wayward girl, whose whole
heart seemed, nevertheless, devoted to the grave man so much her
senior! With what tenderness he had treated her! This suitor
respectfully requested the hand of the wealthy heiress,--her hand:
there had been no mention whatever made of her heart.
Wolfgang finished and waited for a reply, then stooped and, looking in
her face, said, reproachfully, "Alice, have you nothing to say to me?"
Alice saw clearly that something must be said, but she was unaccustomed
to decide for herself, and she made answer, as was befitting a pupil of
Frau von Lasberg's,--
"I must first speak with papa; his wishes----"
"I have just left him," Elmhorst interposed, "and I come with his
permission and entire approval. May I tell him that my suit has found
favour in your eyes? May I present my betrothed to him?"
Alice looked up with the same anxious inquiry in her eyes as before,
and replied, softly, "You must have great consideration for me. I have
been so ill and wretched all through my childhood that I am still
oppressed with a sense of my weakness. You will suffer from it, and I
am afraid----"
She broke off, but there was a childlike pathos in her tone, in the
entreaty for forbearance from the young heiress, who, with her hand,
bestowed a princely fortune. Wolfgang, perhaps, felt this, for for the
first time there was something like ardour in his, manner as he
declared,--
"Do not speak thus, Alice! I know that yours is a delicate temperament
needing to be guarded and protected, and I will shield you from every
rude contact in life. Trust me, confide your future to me, and I
promise you by my----" "love" he was going to say, but his lips refused to
utter the falsehood. The man was proud, he might coolly calculate, but
he could not feign, and he completed his sentence more slowly,--"by my
honour you never shall repent it!"
The words sounded resolute and manly, and he was in earnest. Alice felt
this; she laid her hand willingly in his, and submitted to be clasped
in his arms. Her suitor's lips touched her own, he expressed his
gratitude, his joy, called her his beloved; in short, they were duly
betrothed. A trifle only was lacking,--the exultant confession made
just before by little Molly amid tears and laughter, 'I love you so
dearly, so very dearly!'
CHAPTER VI.
AT PRESIDENT NORDHEIM'S.
The reception-rooms of the Nordheim mansion were brilliantly lighted
for the celebration not only of the birthday of the daughter of the
house, but also of her betrothal. It was a surprising piece of news for
society, which, in spite of all reports and gossip, had never seriously
believed in the possibility of an alliance so unheard-of. It was
incredible that a man, notoriously one of the wealthiest in the
country, should bestow his only child upon a young engineer without
rank, of unpretending origin, and possessing nothing save distinguished
ability, which, to be sure, was warrant for his future.
That it was scarcely an affair of the heart every one knew; Alice had
the reputation of great coldness of nature; she was probably incapable
of very deep sentiment. Nevertheless she was a most enviable prize, and
the announcement of her betrothal caused many a bitter disappointment
in aristocratic circles where the heiress had been coveted. This
Nordheim, it was clear, did not understand how to prize the privileges
which his wealth bestowed upon him. With it he might have purchased a
coronet for his daughter, instead of which he had chosen a son-in-law
from among the officials of his railway. There was much indignation
expressed, nevertheless every one who was invited came to this
entertainment. People were curious to see the lucky man who had
distanced all titled competitors, and whom fate had so suddenly placed
on life's pinnacle, in that he had been chosen as the future lord of
millions.
It was just before the beginning of the entertainment when the
president with Elmhorst entered the first of the large reception-rooms.
He was apparently in the best of humours and upon excellent terms with
his future son-in-law.
"You have your first introduction to the society of the capital this
evening, Wolfgang," said he. "In your brief visits you have seen only
our family. It is time for you to establish relations here, since it
will be your future place of residence. Alice is accustomed to the
society life of a great city, and you can have no objection to it."
"Of course not, sir," Wolfgang replied. "I like to be at the centre of
life and activity, but hitherto it has been incompatible with the
duties of my profession. That it will not be so in the future I see
from your example. You conduct from here all your various
undertakings."
"This activity, however, is beginning to oppress me," said Nordheim. "I
have latterly felt the need of a support, and I depend upon your
partially relieving me. For the present you are indispensable in the
completion of the railway line; the engineer-in-chief, in his present
state of feeble health, is the head of the work only in name."
"Yes, it is in fact entirely in my hands, and if he retires,--I know he
is thinking seriously of doing so,--I have your promise, sir, that I
shall succeed him?"
"Assuredly, and this time I am not afraid of meeting with any
opposition. It is, to be sure, the first time that so young a man has
been placed at the head of such an undertaking, but you have shown your
ability in the Wolkenstein bridge, and the position can scarcely be
refused to my future son-in-law."
"In admitting me to your family, Herr Nordheim, you give me much.--I
know it," said Elmhorst, gravely; "in return I can give you only a
son."
The president's eyes rested thoughtfully upon the face of the speaker,
and with an access of warmth extremely rare in the man of business, he
replied, "I had an only son, in whom all my hopes were centred; he died
in early childhood, and I have often reflected bitterly that some
spendthrift idler would probably scatter abroad what I had taken such
pains to accumulate. I think better of you; you will continue and
preserve what I have begun, complete what I leave unfinished. I am glad
to make you my intellectual as well as my material heir."
"I will not disappoint you," Wolfgang said, pressing the hand extended
to him.
Here were two kindred natures, but surely the conversation was a
strange one for the evening of a betrothal and while awaiting a
promised bride. Both men had spoken of their schemes and undertakings;
Alice had not been mentioned. The father had demanded of his future
son-in-law much, but there had been no allusion to his daughter's
happiness; and the lover, who seemed entirely sensible of the
advantages of the family connection in prospect, never mentioned the
name of his betrothed. They talked of construction and bridges, of the
engineer-in-chief and the railway company, as coolly and in as
business-like a fashion as if the matter in question were a partnership
to be formed between them; and in fact it was nothing else,--either
could easily have foregone the additional relationship. They were
interrupted, however: a servant entered to ask for orders from the
president with relation to the arrangement of the table, and Nordheim
thought best to betake himself to the dining-hall to decide the matter.
It was still too early for the arrival of the guests, and the ladies of
the house had not yet made their appearance. The servants were all at
their posts, and for the moment Wolfgang was left alone in the
reception-rooms, which occupied the entire upper story of the mansion.
From the large apartment where he was, with its rich crimson rugs and
velvet hangings, and its profusion of gilding, he could look through
the entire suite of rooms, the splendour of which was most striking in
their present deserted, empty condition. Everywhere there was a lavish
wealth of costly objects, everywhere pictures, statues, and other works
of art, each one worth a small fortune, and the long suite ended, as in
some fairy realm, in a dimly-lit conservatory filled with exotic plants
of rare magnificence. In an hour these brilliant, fragrant apartments
would be crowded with the most distinguished society of the capital,
all ready to accept the hospitality of the railway king.
Wolfgang stood still and looked slowly about him. It was indeed a
bewildering sensation, that of knowing himself a son of this house, the
future heir of all this magnificence. No one could blame the young man
if at the thought he stood proudly erect, while his eyes gleamed
exultantly. He had kept the vow made to himself,--he had executed the
bold scheme which he had once confided to his friend,--he had dared the
flight and had reached the summit. At an age when others are beginning
to shape their future he had clutched success in a firm grasp. He was
now standing upon the height of which he had dreamed, and the world lay
fair indeed at his feet.
The drawing-room door opened; Elmhorst turned and advanced a few steps
towards it, then paused suddenly, for instead of his expected betrothed
Erna von Thurgau entered. She was much changed since she had been met
by the strayed young superintendent among the cliffs of the
Wolkenstein. The wayward child who had grown up free and untrammelled
among her mountains had not without result passed three years in her
uncle's luxurious home, under the training of Frau von Lasberg. The
little Alpine rose had been transformed to a young lady, who with
perfect grace but also with entire formality returned Wolfgang's
salutation. This was a beautiful woman, a gloriously beautiful woman.
Her childish features had become perfectly regular, and although the
rich bloom of health still coloured her cheek, her face expressed a
degree of cool gravity unknown to the joyous daughter of the Freiherr
von Thurgau. Her eyes no longer laughed as of old; there lay hidden in
their depths a mystery akin to that of the mountain-lakes of her home,
whose colour they had borrowed,--a mystery as powerfully attractive as
that of the lakes themselves. She looked singularly lovely as she stood
in the full light of the chandelier, dressed in pure mist-like white,
her only ornaments single water-lilies scattered here and there among
its whiteness. Her hair no longer fell in masses about her shoulders,
but fashion permitted its full luxuriance to be appreciated, and pale
lily-buds gleamed amid its waves.
"Alice and Frau von Lasberg will be here presently," she said, as she
entered. "I thought my uncle was here."
"He has gone for a moment to the dining-hall," Elmhorst replied, after
a salutation quite as formal as her own.
For an instant Erna seemed about to follow her uncle, but, apparently
recollecting that this might be discourteous towards a future relative,
she paused and let her gaze wander through the long suite of rooms.
"I think you see these rooms fully lighted to-night for the first time,
Herr Elmhorst? They are very fine, are they not?"
"Very fine; and upon one coming, as I do, from the winter solitude of
the mountains, they produce a dazzling impression."
"They dazzled me too when I first came here," the young lady said,
indifferently; "but one easily becomes accustomed to such surroundings,
as you will find by experience when you take up your residence here. It
is settled that you are to be married in a year, is it not?"
"It is,--next spring."
"Rather a long time to wait. Have you really consented to such a period
of probation?"
The lover seemed, oddly enough, to be rather averse to this allusion to
his marriage. He examined with apparent interest a huge porcelain vase
which stood near him, and replied, evidently desirous of changing the
subject, "I cannot but consent, since for the present I am master
neither of my time nor of my movements. The first thing to be attended
to is the completion of the railway, of the construction of which I am
superintendent."
"Are you, then, so fettered?" Erna asked, with gentle irony. "I should
have thought you would find it easy to liberate yourself?"
"Liberate myself,--from what?"
"From a profession which you must certainly resign in the future."
"Do you consider that as a matter of course, Fraeulein von Thurgau?"
Wolfgang asked, nettled by her tone. "I cannot see what should induce
such a course on my part."
"Why, your future position as the husband of Alice Nordheim."
The young engineer flushed crimson; he glanced angrily at the girl who
ventured to remind him that he was marrying money. She was smiling, and
her remark sounded like a jest, but her eyes spoke a different
language, the language of contempt, which he understood but too well.
He was not a man, however, to rest quietly under the scorn which
pursues a fortune-hunter; he too smiled, and rejoined, with cool
courtesy, "Pardon me, Fraeulein von Thurgau, you are mistaken. My
profession, my work, are necessities of existence for me. I was not
made for an idle, inactive enjoyment of life. This seems
incomprehensible to you----"
"Not at all," Erna interposed. "I perfectly understand how a true man
must depend solely upon his own exertions."
Wolfgang bit his lip, but he parried this thrust too: "That I may
accept as a compliment, for I certainly depended entirely upon my own
exertions when I planned the Wolkenstein bridge, and I trust my work
will bring me credit, even as 'the husband of Alice Nordheim.' But
excuse me; these are matters which cannot interest a lady."
"They interest me," Erna said, bluntly. "My home was destroyed by the
Wolkenstein bridge, and your work demanded yet another and far dearer
sacrifice of me."
"Which you never can forgive me, I know," Wolfgang went on. "You
reproach me for an unhappy accident, although your sense of justice
must tell you that I am not to blame, that I do not deserve it."
"I do not blame you, Herr Elmhorst."
"You did in that most wretched hour, and you do it still."
Erna did not reply, but her silence was eloquent enough. Elmhorst
appeared to have expected a denial, if only a formal one, for there was
an added bitterness in his tone as he continued: "I regret infinitely
that I should have been the one chosen to conduct the last business
arrangements with Baron Thurgau. They had to be made, and their tragic
conclusion lay beyond human foresight. It was not I, Fraeulein Thurgau,
but iron necessity that required of you the sacrifice of your home; the
Wolkenstein bridge is not less guilty than I am."
"I know it," Erna observed, coldly; "but there are cases in which one
finds it impossible to be just,--you should see that, Herr Elmhorst.
You are now a member of our family, and may rest assured that I shall
show you all the consideration due to a relative; for my feelings I
cannot be called to account."
Wolfgang looked her full and darkly in the face: "In other words, you
detest my work and--myself?"
Erna was silent: she had long outgrown the childish waywardness that
had once prompted her to tell the stranger to his face that she could
not endure him or his sneers at her mountain-legends. The young lady
never dreamed of conduct so unbecoming, and she confronted him now in
entire self-possession. But her eyes had not forgotten their language,
and at this moment they declared that the girlish nature was quelled
only in appearance,--it still slumbered untamed in the depths of her
soul. There was a lightning-flash in them which uttered a quick,
vehement 'yes' in answer to Wolfgang's last question, although the lips
were mute.
It was impossible for Elmhorst to misunderstand it, and yet he gazed
into the blue depths of those hostile eyes as if they had the power to
hold him spell-bound; only for a few seconds, however, for Erna turned
away, saying, lightly, "We certainly are having a very odd
conversation, talking of sacrifice, blame, and hatred, and all on the
day of your betrothal."
"You are right, Fraeulein Thurgau; let us talk of something else,"
Wolfgang rejoined.
But they did not talk of anything else; on the contrary, an oppressive
silence ensued. Erna seated herself and became apparently absorbed in
an examination of the pictures on her fan, while her companion walked
to the door of the next room as if to admire its magnificence. His
face, however, no longer showed the proud satisfaction which had
informed it a quarter of an hour before: he looked irritated and ill at
ease.
Again the drawing-room door opened and Alice and Frau von Lasberg
entered, the latter with a certain air of resignation; a darling wish
of hers was to be frustrated to-night. She had looked forward to seeing
Alice, whom she had trained entirely according to her own ideas,
enrolled in the ranks of the aristocracy, and one of the young girl's
distinguished suitors, the scion of an ancient noble line, had enjoyed
the Baroness's special favour, and now Wolfgang Elmhorst was carrying
off the prize! He was indeed the only man without a title whom Frau von
Lasberg could have forgiven for so doing,--he had long since succeeded
in winning her regard,--but it was nevertheless a painful fact that a
man so perfectly well-bred, so agreeable to the strict old lady,
possessed not the ghost of a title.
Alice, in a pale-blue satin gown rather overtrimmed with costly lace,
and with a long train, did not look particularly well. The heavy folds
of the rich material seemed to weigh down her delicate figure, and the
diamonds sparkling on her neck and arms--her father's birthday gift to
her--did not avail to relieve her want of colour. Such a frame did not
suit her; an airy flower-trimmed ball-dress would have been much more
becoming.
Wolfgang hastened to meet his betrothed, and carried her hand to his
lips. He was full of tender consideration for her, and he was courtesy
itself to the Baroness Lasberg, but the cloud did not vanish from his
brow until the president returned and the guests began to arrive.
Gradually the rooms were filled with a brilliant assemblage. Those
present were indeed the foremost in the capital, the aristocracy by
birth and by talent, those distinguished both in the world of finance
and in the domain of art, the best names in military and diplomatic
circles. Splendid uniforms alternated with costly toilets, and the
throng glittered and rustled as only such an assemblage can,--an
assemblage thoroughly in keeping with the magnificence of the Nordheim
establishment.
The centre of attraction was found in the betrothed pair, or rather in
the lover, who, an entire stranger to most of those present, was doubly
an object of interest. He certainly was an extremely handsome man, this
Wolfgang Elmhorst, no one could deny that, and there was no doubt of
his capacity and his talent, but these gifts alone hardly entitled him
to the hand of a wealthy heiress, who might well look for something
more. And then, too, the young man appeared to take his good fortune,
which would have fairly intoxicated any one else, quite as a matter of
course. Not the slightest embarrassment betrayed that this was
the first time he had been thus surrounded. With his betrothed's
hand resting on his arm he stood proudly calm beside his future
father-in-law, was presented to every one, received and acknowledged
with easy grace all congratulations, and played admirably the principal
part thus assigned him. He was entirely the son of the house, accepting
his position as such as a foregone conclusion, and even at times
seeming to dominate the entire assembly.
Among the guests was the Court-Councillor von Ernsthausen, a stiff,
formal bureaucrat, who in the absence of his wife had his daughter on
his arm. The little Baroness was charming in her pink tulle ball-dress,
with a wreath of snow-drops on her black curls, and she was beaming
with delight and exultation in having, after a hard combat, succeeded
in being present at the entertainment. Her parents had at first refused
to allow her to come, because Herr Gersdorf was also invited, and they
dreaded the renewal of his attentions. The Herr Papa was armed to the
teeth against attack from the hostile force; he kept guard like a
sentinel over his daughter, and seemed resolved that she should not
leave his side during the entire evening.
But the lover showed no inclination to expose himself to the danger of
another repulse; he contented himself with a courteous salutation from
a distance, which Baron Ernsthausen returned very stiffly. Molly
inclined her head gravely and decorously, as if quite agreed with her
paternal escort; of course she had devised the plan of her campaign,
and she proceeded to carry it out with an energy that left nothing to
be desired.
She embraced and congratulated Alice, which necessitated her leaving
her father's arm; then she greeted Frau von Lasberg with the greatest
amiability in return for a very cool recognition on that lady's part,
and finally she overwhelmed Erna with demonstrations of affection,
drawing her aside to the recess of a window. The councillor looked
after her with a discontented air, but, as Gersdorf remained quietly at
the other end of the room, he was reassured, and apparently conceived
that his office of guardian was perfectly discharged by keeping the
enemy constantly in sight. He never suspected the cunning schemes that
were being contrived and carried out behind his back.
The whispered interview in the window-recess did not last long, and at
its close Fraeulein von Thurgau vanished from the room, while Molly
returned to her father and entered into conversation with various
friends. She managed, however, to perceive that Erna returned after a
few minutes, and, approaching Herr Gersdorf, addressed him. He looked
rather surprised, but bowed in assent, and the little Baroness
triumphantly unfurled her fan. The action had begun, and the guardian
was checkmated for the rest of the evening.
Meanwhile, the president had missed his niece and was looking about for
her rather impatiently, while talking with a gentleman who had just
arrived, and who was not one of the _habitues_ of the house. He was
undoubtedly a person of distinction, for Nordheim treated him with a
consideration which he accorded to but few individuals. Erna no sooner
made her appearance again than her uncle approached her and presented
the stranger.
"Herr Ernst Waltenberg, of whom you have heard me speak."
"I was so unfortunate as to miss the ladies when I called yesterday,
and so am an entire stranger to Fraeulein von Thurgau," said Waltenberg.
"Not quite: I talked much of you at dinner," Nordheim interposed. "A
cosmopolitan like yourself, who after the tour of the world comes to us
directly from Persia, cannot fail to interest, and I am sure you will
find an eager listener to your experiences of travel in my niece. Her
taste is decidedly for the strange and unusual."
"Indeed, Fraeulein von Thurgau?" asked Waltenberg, gazing in evident
admiration at Erna's lovely face.
Nordheim perceived this and smiled, while, without giving his niece a
chance to reply, he continued:
"You may rely upon it. But we must first of all try to make you more at
home in Europe, where you are positively a stranger. I shall be glad if
my house can in any wise contribute to your pleasure; I pray you to
believe that you will always be welcome here."
He shook his guest's hand with great cordiality and retired. There was
a degree of intention in the way in which he had brought the pair
together and then left them to themselves, but Erna did not perceive
it. She had been in no wise interested in the presentation of the
new-comer,--strangers from beyond the seas were no rarity in her
uncle's house,--but her first glance at the guest's unusual type of
countenance aroused her attention.
Ernst Waltenberg was no longer young,--he had passed forty, and
although not very tall his frame was muscular and well-knit, showing
traces, however, of a life of exposure and exertion. His face, tanned
dark brown by his sojourn for years in tropical countries, was not
handsome, but full of expression and of those lines graven not by
years, but by experience of life. His broad brow was crowned by close
black curls, and his steel-gray eyes beneath their black brows could
evidently flash on occasion. There was something strangely foreign
about him that set him quite apart from the brilliant but mostly
uninteresting personages that crowded Nordheim's rooms. His voice too
had a peculiar intonation,--it was deep, but sounded slightly foreign,
possibly from years of speaking other tongues than his own. Evidently
he was perfectly versed in the forms of society; the manner in which he
took his seat beside Fraeulein von Thurgau was entirely that of a man of
the world.
"You have but lately come from Persia?" Erna asked, referring to what
her uncle had said.
"Yes, I was there last; for ten years I have not seen Europe before."
"And yet you are a German? Probably your profession kept you away thus
long?"
"My profession?" Waltenberg repeated, with a fleeting smile. "No; I
merely yielded to my inclination. I am not of those steadfast natures
which become rooted in house and home. I was always longing to be out
in the world, and I gratified my desire absolutely in this respect."
"And in all these ten years have you never been homesick?"
"To tell the truth, no! One gradually becomes weaned from one's home,
and at last feels like a stranger there. I am here now only to arrange
various business affairs and personal matters, and do not propose to
stay long. I have no family to keep me here; I am quite alone."
"But your country should have a claim upon you," Erna interposed.
"Perhaps so; but I am modest enough to imagine that it does not need
me. There are so many better men than I here."
"And do you not need your country?"
The remark was rather an odd one from a young lady, and Waltenberg
looked surprised, especially when the glance that met his own
emphasized the reproach in the girl's words.
"You are indignant at my admission, Fraeulein Thurgau, but nevertheless
I must plead guilty," he said, gravely. "Believe me, a life such as
mine has been for years, free of all fetters, surrounded by a nature
lavish in beauty and luxuriance, while our own is meagre enough, has
the effect of a magic draught. Those who have once tasted it can never
again forego it. Were I really obliged to return to this world of
unrealities, this formal existence in what we call society, beneath
these gray wintry skies, I think I----but this is rank heresy in the
eyes of one who is an admired centre of this same society."
"And yet she can perhaps understand you," Erna said, with a sudden
access of bitterness. "I grew up among the mountains, in the
magnificent solitude of the highlands, far from the world and its ways,
and it is hard, very hard, to forego the sunny, golden liberty of my
childhood!"
"Even here?" Waltenberg asked, with a glance about him at the brilliant
rooms, now crowded with guests.
"Most of all here."
The answer was low, scarcely audible, and the look that accompanied it
was strangely sad and weary, but the next moment the young girl seemed
to repent the half-involuntary confession; she smiled and said,
jestingly,--
"You are right, this is heresy, and my uncle would disapprove; he
evidently hopes to make you really at home among us. Let me make you
acquainted with the gentleman now approaching us; he is one of our
celebrities and will surely interest you."
Her intention of breaking off a conversation that had become unusually
grave was evident, and Waltenberg bowed silently, but with an
expression of annoyance. He was presented to the 'celebrity,' with whom
he conversed but for a few moments, however, before seeking out Herr
Gersdorf, whom he had long known; they had been college-friends.
"Well, Ernst, are you beginning to be at home among us?" the lawyer
asked. "You seemed much interested in your talk with Fraeulein Thurgau.
A handsome girl, is she not?"
"Yes, and really worth the trouble of talking to," Ernst replied,
retiring somewhat from the throng with his friend, who laughed, as he
said in an undertone,--
"Extremely complimentary to all the other ladies. I suppose it is not
worth the trouble to talk with them?"
"No, it is not," Waltenberg coolly replied, in a still lower tone. "I
really cannot bring myself to take part in their vapid talk through an
entire evening. It is particularly tiresome around the betrothed
couple,--a perfect chorus of utterly senseless remarks. Moreover, the
lady looks very insignificant, and is very uninteresting."
Gersdorf shrugged his shoulders: "Nevertheless her name is Alice
Nordheim, and that was quite enough for her lover. There is many a one
here who would gladly stand in his shoes, but he had the wit to gain
her father's favour, and so won the prize."
"Marrying for money, then? A fortune-hunter?"
"If you choose to call him so,--yes; but very talented, very
energetic,--sure to succeed. He already rules the various officials of
his railway as absolutely as his future father-in-law does the
directors, and when you see his _chef-d'[oe]uvre_, the Wolkenstein
bridge, you will admit that his talent is of no common order."
"No matter for that, I detest fortune-hunting from my very soul. One
might forgive it in a poor devil with no other chance to rise in the
world, but this Elmhorst seems to have force of character, and yet
sells himself and his liberty for money. Contemptible!"
"My dear Ernst, you are evidently just from the wilds," Gersdorf
rejoined. "Such things are very usual in our much-lauded 'society,' and
among very respectable people. Of course money is no consideration to
you, with your hundreds of thousands. Are you never going to cease
wandering to and fro on the earth and try sitting beside your own
hearthstone?"
"No, Albert, I never was made for that. Liberty is my bride, and I
shall be faithful to her."
"I said the same thing," the lawyer rejoined, with a laugh; "but time
brings one experience of this same bride's rather chilly nature, and if
in addition one meets with the misfortune of falling in love, liberty
loses all attraction and the whilom bachelor is glad enough to turn
into an honest married man. I am just about to undergo this
transformation."
"I condole with you."
"No need; it suits me extremely well. But you know all the story of my
love and woe; what do you think of the future Frau Gersdorf?"
"I think her so charming that she excuses in a measure your desertion
of your colours. She is lovely, with that rosy, laughing little face."
"Yes, my little Molly is an embodiment of sunshine," Albert said,
heartily, his glance seeking out the young girl. "The barometer at her
home points to 'stormy' at present; but although the court-councillor
and his entire family, with the famous granduncle,--who, by the bye, is
the worst of all,--should take the field against me, I am resolved to
come off victorious."
"Herr Waltenberg, may I request you to escort my niece to supper?" said
the president as he passed the young men.
"With pleasure," Waltenberg assented, hurrying away, with such sincere
satisfaction expressed in his face, that Gersdorf could not help
looking after him with a mocking smile.
"I doubt whether I shall long be the only one of us two to desert his
colours," he said to himself as his friend joined Fraeulein von Thurgau,
looking like anything rather than a misogynist.
CHAPTER VII.
A NEW SCHEME.
The doors of the supper-room were opened and the assemblage began to
enter it by couples. Baron Ernsthausen offered his arm to the Baroness
Lasberg, having been assigned her as his neighbour at table, and having
learned from her with much satisfaction that Lieutenant von Alven was
to be his daughter's escort, and that Herr Gersdorf's place was at the
opposite end of the table. The distinguished couple slowly advanced
followed by a crowd of others, but, strangely enough, Lieutenant von
Alven offered his arm to another young girl, and Herr Gersdorf
approached the Baroness Ernsthausen.
"What does this mean, Molly?" he asked, in a low tone. "Am I to take
you to supper, as Fraeulein von Thurgau tells me? Did you prevail on
Frau von Lasberg----?"
"Oh, she is a firm ally of my father and mother," Molly whispered,
taking his arm. "Only fancy, she had the entire length of the table
between us! Mamma is at home with a headache, but she enjoined it upon
papa not to let me out of his sight, and Frau von Lasberg was to be
guard number two. But they have no idea with whom they have to deal; I
have outwitted them all."
"What is it that you have done?" Gersdorf asked, rather uneasily.
"Changed the table-cards!" Molly declared, exultantly, "or rather
persuaded Erna to change them. She did not want to at first, but when I
asked her whether she could answer it to her conscience to plunge us
both into fathomless despair, she really could not, and so she
consented."
The phrases which the little Baroness used to beguile the guardian
angels of her love came trippingly from her tongue; her lover, however,
did not seem greatly edified by her stroke of policy; he shook his
head, and said, reproachfully, "But, my dear Molly, it cannot possibly
be concealed, and when your father sees us----"
"He'll be furious!" Molly completed the sentence very placidly. "But
you know, Albert, he always is that, and a little more or a little less
really makes no difference. And now do not look so frightfully grave. I
believe you would actually like to scold me for my brilliant idea."
"I ought to," said Albert, smiling in spite of himself; "but who could
find fault with you, you wayward little sprite?"
In the buzz of conversation the lovers' whispered tones were unheard as
they entered the supper-room, where the councillor was already seated
beside his companion. The pleasures of the table were dear to his
heart, and the prospect of a good supper attuned his soul to
benevolence. But suddenly his face grew rigid as if from a sight of the
Gorgon, although it was only upon perceiving the extremely happy face
of his little daughter as she appeared upon Herr Gersdorf's arm.
"Madame, for heaven's sake, look there!" he whispered. "You told me
that Lieutenant von Alven----"
"Was to take Molly to supper; and in accordance with your express wish
Herr Gersdorf----"
Frau von Lasberg stopped in the middle of her sentence and also became
petrified as she perceived the couple just taking their seats near the
other end of the table.
"Beside him!" The councillor darted an annihilating glance down the
long table, past thirty seated guests, at the lawyer.
"I cannot understand this; I arranged the places at table myself."
"Perhaps some mistake of the servants----"
"No, it is a plot of the Baroness's," Frau von Lasberg interposed,
indignantly. "But pray let us have no scene. When supper is over----"
"I shall take Molly directly home!" Ernsthausen concluded the sentence,
opening his napkin with an energy that boded no good to his disobedient
daughter.
The supper began and followed its course with all the splendour to be
expected from an entertainment in the Nordheim mansion. The tables were
almost overloaded with heavy silver and glittering glass, among which
bloomed the rarest flowers. There was an endless variety of food, with
the finest kinds of wine. The usual toasts to the betrothed couple were
offered, the usual speeches made, and over it all brooded the weariness
inseparable from such displays of princely wealth.
Nevertheless certain of the younger folk enjoyed themselves
excessively; notably Baroness Molly, who, quite unaffected by her
approaching doom, laughed and talked with her neighbour at table, while
Gersdorf would have been no lover had he not forgotten all else and
quaffed full draughts of the unexpected happiness of this interview.
Not less eager, if graver and of more significance, was the
conversation carried on at the upper end of the table between Fraeulein
von Thurgau, who as the nearest relative of the family had her place
opposite the betrothed couple, and Ernst Waltenberg, who was a
distinguished guest. Hitherto he had seemed to take but little interest
in the assemblage and had been rather silent, but now he made it plain
that where it pleased him to charm by his conversation he was fully
able to do so.
He did indeed tell of distant lands and peoples, but he described them
so vividly that his hearer seemed to see them. As he spoke of the charm
of the southern seas, the splendour of the tropical landscape, Erna,
listening with sparkling eyes, seemed carried away. Now and then
Wolfgang, beside Alice on the opposite side of the table, scanned the
pair with an oddly searching glance; his conversation with his
betrothed did not seem to be of a particularly lively nature, master of
the art though he were.
At last supper was over, and all returned to the reception-rooms. The
universal mood seemed less constrained, laughter and talk were louder,
and so general was the mingling of various groups that it was difficult
to single out any particular individual, as Baron Ernsthausen found to
his vexation, for his young daughter had disappeared for the time.
Ernst Waltenberg had conducted Erna to the conservatory, and was seated
beside her, deep in the conversation begun at supper, when the
betrothed couple entered. Wolfgang started as he perceived the pair, he
bowed coldly to Waltenberg, who sprang up to offer his place to
Fraeulein Nordheim, and said, "Alice complains of weariness and thinks
it will be quieter here. We are not intruding?"
"Upon whom?" Erna asked, quietly.
"Upon yourself and Herr Waltenberg. You were in such earnest
conversation, and we should be very sorry----"
Instead of replying, Erna took her cousin's hand and drew her down
beside her: "You are right, Alice, you need rest. It is a hard task
even for those stronger than you to be the centre of such an
entertainment."
"I only wanted to withdraw for a few moments," said Alice, who really
did look fatigued. "But we seem to have disturbed you; Herr Waltenberg
was in the midst of a most interesting description, which he broke off
when we entered."
"I was telling of my last visit to India," Waltenberg explained, "and I
took the opportunity to make a request of Baroness Thurgau, which I
should like to make of you also, Fraeulein Nordheim. In the course of my
ten years of absence from Europe I have collected a quantity of foreign
curiosities. They were all sent home, and form a veritable museum which
I am just having arranged by an experienced hand. May I entreat the
ladies to honour me with a visit,--with yourself, of course, Herr
Elmhorst? I think I can show you much that will interest you."
"I fear my engagements will not allow me to accept your kind
invitation," Elmhorst replied, with rather cool courtesy. "I must leave
town in a couple of days."
"So shortly after your betrothal?"
"I must. In the present condition of our work I cannot allow myself a
longer leave of absence."
"Do you agree to this, Fraeulein Nordheim?" Waltenberg appealed to
Alice. "I should think under present circumstances you would have the
first claim."
"Duty has the first claim upon me, Herr Waltenberg,--in my opinion, at
least."
"Must you take it so seriously,--even now?"
"Wolfgang's eyes flashed. He understood this 'even now?' and understood
also the look which he encountered; he had seen the same expression on
another face a few hours ago. He bit his lip; for the second time he
was reminded that he was considered in society only as 'Alice
Nordheim's future husband,'--one who could with her fortune in prospect
purchase immunity from duties which he had undertaken to fulfil.
"To fulfil a duty is with me a point of honour," he replied, coldly.
"Yes, we Germans are fanatics for duty," Waltenberg said, negligently.
"I have lost somewhat of this national characteristic in foreign
countries. Oh, Fraeulein von Thurgau, not that disapproving look, I
entreat. My unfortunate frankness will ruin me in your estimation, but
remember I come from quite another world, and am absolutely uncivilized
according to European ideas."
"You certainly seem so with respect to some of your views," Erna said,
lightly, but withal with a shade of severity.
He smiled, and, leaning over the back of her chair, said, in a lower
tone, "Yes, I need to be harmonized with mankind, and with our worthy
Germans. Perhaps some one will have pity upon me and undertake the
task. Do you think it would be worth the trouble?"
"Can you really endure this close, stifling temperature, Alice?"
Wolfgang asked, with ill-concealed impatience. "I fear it is worse for
you than the heat of the rooms."
"But there is such a crowd of people there. Pray let us stay here,
Wolfgang."
He bit his lip, but naturally yielded to a wish of his betrothed's so
distinctly expressed.
"The air here is tropical," said Waltenberg.
"It is indeed. Oppressive, and debilitating for any one accustomed to
breathe freely."
The words sounded almost rude, but he to whom they were addressed took
no heed; he was still gazing at Erna as he went on: "These palms and
orchids require it. Look, Fraeulein von Thurgau, they enchant the eye
even here in captivity. In the tropics, where they climb and twine in
liberty, they are wonderful indeed."
"Yes, that world must be beautiful," Erna said, softly, while her eyes
wandered dreamily over the foreign splendour of the blossoms gleaming
among the green on every side and filling the conservatory with their
sweet but enervating fragrance.
"Was your stay in the East a long one, Herr Waltenberg?" Alice asked,
in her cool, uninterested way.
"I passed some years there, but I am at home all over the world, and
can even boast having penetrated far into Africa."
Wolfgang's attention was roused by these last words: "Probably as a
member of some scientific expedition?" he observed.
"No, that would have had no charm for me. I detest nothing so much as
constraint, and it is impossible in such expeditions to preserve one's
personal freedom. One is bound by the rules of the expedition, by the
wishes of one's companions, by all sorts of things, and I am wont to
follow my own will only."
"Ah, indeed?" A half-contemptuous smile played about Wolfgang's lips.
"I beg pardon; I really thought you had gone to Africa as a scientific
pioneer."
"Good heavens, how in earnest you are about everything, Herr Elmhorst!"
Waltenberg said, with a scarcely perceptible sneer. "Must life perforce
be labour? I never coveted fame as an explorer; I have enjoyed the
freedom and beauty of the world, and have renewed my youth and strength
in quaffing long draughts of such enjoyment. To put it to positive use
would destroy its romance for me."
Elmhorst shrugged his shoulders, and remarked, with apparent
indifference, in which there was nevertheless a spice of insolence,
"Certainly a most convenient way of arranging one's existence. And yet
hardly to my taste, and quite impossible for most people. So to live
one should be born to great wealth."
"No, not of necessity," Waltenberg retorted, in the same tone. "Some
lucky chance may endow one with wealth."
Wolfgang looked annoyed, and he was evidently about to make a sharp
reply, when Erna, perceiving this, hastened to give the conversation
another turn.
"I fear my uncle must resign all hope of making you at home among us,"
said she. "You are so entirely under the spell of your tropical world,
that everything here will seem petty and meagre to you. I hardly think
that even our mountains could move you to admiration, but there you
will find me a determined antagonist."
Waltenberg turned towards her,--perhaps he saw in her face, or was
conscious himself, that he had gone too far. "You do me injustice,
Fraeulein Thurgau," he replied. "I have never forgotten the Alpine
world of my native country,--its lofty summits, its deep-blue
lakes, and the lovely creations of its legends by which it is
peopled,--creatures"--his voice sounded veiled--"compounded as it were
of air and Alpine snow, with the white fairy-like flowers of its waters
crowning their fair hair."
The compliment was too bold, but the manner in which it was uttered
took from it all presumption, as the speaker's eyes rested in
admiration upon the beautiful girl before him in her white, misty
ball-dress.
"Alice, are you rested?" Wolfgang asked, aloud. "We really ought not to
remain away from the other room so long. Let us go back."
His words sounded almost like a command. Alice arose, put her hand
within his arm, and they left the conservatory together.
"Herr Elmhorst seems to have a decided predilection for command,"
Waltenberg said, ironically, looking after them. "His tone was
decidedly that of the future lord and master, and upon the very day of
his betrothal. Fraeulein Nordheim's choice seems surprising to me in
more than one sense."
"Alice's is a very gentle, docile nature," Erna observed.
"So much the worse. Her lover seems to have no conception that it is
this connection alone that raises him to a position to which he could
not personally lay any claim."
The young girl had risen and approached a group of plants, whose heavy
crimson blossoms hung amid dark green leaves. After a moment's pause
she rejoined, "I do not think Wolfgang Elmhorst a man to allow himself
to be 'raised.'"
"Why, then, should her---- Pardon me, I ought not to say one word in
disapproval of your future relative."
Erna did not reply, and he seemed to take her silence as a permission
to proceed, for he continued, very gravely: "Do you think inclination
plays any part in his suit?"
"No."
The word was uttered with a certain harshness, as the girl's face
leaned half hidden among the crimson flowers.
"Nor do I, and my opinion of Herr Elmhorst is based upon that
conviction. Pray, Fraeulein Thurgau, do not inhale the fragrance of
those blossoms so closely; I know the plant,--its odour is delicious
but mischievous, and will give you headache. Be careful."
"You are right," she said, with a deep breath, passing her hand across
her forehead and standing erect. "It is, besides, time that we returned
to the other rooms. May I trouble you, Herr Waltenberg?"
He seemed hardly to agree with this, but nevertheless instantly offered
his arm and conducted her to the ball-room, which was still full.
The court-councillor was sitting in a corner nursing his wrath with
Fran von Lasberg, who seemed inclined to fan the flame. She had
ascertained by questioning the servants that the cards on the table had
really been changed, and her indignation was extreme. She harangued the
unfortunate father of such a daughter in low but expressive tones, and
concluded her discourse with the annihilating declaration, "In short,
the conduct of Herr Gersdorf seems to me outrageous!"
"Yes, it is outrageous!" Ernsthausen murmured in a fury. "And,
moreover, I have been looking for Molly for half an hour to take her
home, and I cannot find her. She is a terrible child!"
"Under no circumstances should I have allowed her to attend this
entertainment," the old lady began again. "When the Frau Baroness
opened her heart to me about the affair, I urged it upon her to have
recourse to vigorous measures."
"And so we have," Ernsthausen declared; "but it is of no use. My wife
is ill with all this worry and vexation, and her indisposition may,
probably will, last for days. I am occupied with my official duties.
Who is to stand guard over the girl meanwhile and frustrate all her
insane schemes?"
"Send Molly to the country to her granduncle," was Frau von Lasberg's
advice. "There no personal intercourse with Gersdorf will be possible,
and if I know the old Baron he will find a means of preventing any
exchange of letters."
The councillor looked as if a ray of light had suddenly invaded the
darkness of his soul; he adopted the suggestion with enthusiasm.
"That is an idea!" he cried. "You are right, madame, perfectly right!
Molly shall go to my uncle immediately,--the day after to-morrow. He
was beside himself at learning of the affair, and will certainly be the
best of guardians. I will write to him early to-morrow morning."
He was so possessed with this thought that he hastily arose, and made a
fresh attempt to find his daughter, but it was a difficult undertaking.
He might as well have given chase to a butterfly, for Molly possessed a
wonderful talent for disappearing just as her father was about to
confront her. Ernst Waltenberg, who had been taken into council by the
lovers twice, acted as a lightning-conductor on this occasion, in view
of the approaching storm, which he diverted by his conversation.
Meanwhile, the little Baroness would disappear among a crowd of her
friends, to come to light again in an entirely different place. She
seemed to regard the company as an assemblage of guardian-angels, to be
used according to her good pleasure, and even the minister, her
father's illustrious chief, who was present, was obliged to serve her
purpose, for she finally took refuge with His Excellency, and
complained in the most moving terms that her father was insisting upon
driving home, when she wanted to stay so much. The old gentleman
instantly espoused the cause of the charming child, and when the
councillor appeared with a stern "Molly, the carriage is waiting," he
kindly interposed with, "Let it wait, my dear councillor. Youth claims
its rights, and I promised the Baroness to intercede for her. You will
stay, will you not?"
Ernsthausen was inwardly raging, while his outward man bowed in polite
assent, in recognition of which his chief engaged him in conversation,
and did not release him until a quarter of an hour had passed. Then,
however, the Baron was determined; he invaded the hostile camp, where
his daughter was seated in great content between Waltenberg and
Gersdorf. The latter approached him with extreme courtesy.
"Herr Councillor, will you kindly appoint an hour when I can call upon
you, either to-morrow or the day after?"
Ernsthausen gave him an annihilating glance: "I regret extremely, Herr
Gersdorf, that pressing business----"
"Quite right, it is that about which I wish to consult with you,"
Gersdorf interposed. "The matter concerns the railway company, whose
legal representative I am, as you know, and His Excellency the minister
has referred me to you. Permit me, however, to visit you at your home
instead of at your office, since I have a private matter also to
discuss with you."
The Baron was unfortunately in no uncertainty as to what this private
matter was, but since he could not refuse to receive the lawyer in his
legal capacity, he stood erect with much dignity and answered, coolly,
"The day after to-morrow, at five in the afternoon, I shall be at your
service."
"I shall be punctual," said Gersdorf, bowing as he took leave of Molly,
who thought best at last to comply with the paternal command and to
allow herself to be taken home. On the staircase, however, she
declared, resolutely, "Papa, the day after to-morrow I will not be
locked up again. I mean to be there when my lover presents himself."
"The day after to-morrow you will be in the country," Ernsthausen
asserted, with emphasis. "You will depart by the early train; I shall
myself see you safely to the railway-carriage, and when you arrive your
grand uncle will receive you, and will keep you with him for the
present."
Molly's curly head emerged from her white hood in speechless horror.
But only for a moment was she silent; then she assumed a warlike
attitude: "I will not go, papa. I will not stay with my granduncle; I
will run away and come back to town on foot."
"You will hardly do that," said the councillor. "I should think you
knew the old gentleman and his principles better. After his death you
will be a most distinguished match,--remember that!"
"I wish my granduncle would go to Monaco and gamble away all his
money," Molly retorted, sobbing angrily, "or that he would adopt some
orphan and leave her every penny he possesses!"
"Good heavens, child, you are mad, absolutely mad!" Ernsthausen
exclaimed in desperation, but the little Baroness went on excitedly:
"Then I should be no match at all, and could marry Albert. I mean to
pray fervently that my granduncle may commit some such folly, in spite
of his seventy years!"
Still sobbing, she sprang into the carriage and buried her face in the
cushions. Her father followed her, muttering, "A terrible child!"
The brilliant rooms gradually became more empty and more quiet. One
after another the guests took their leave, until finally the president,
having bidden farewell to the last, was left alone with Wolfgang in the
spacious reception-room.
"Waltenberg bus invited us to inspect his collection of curios," he
said. "I shall hardly have time to go, but you----"
"I shall have still less," Elmhorst interposed. "The three days at my
disposal are already fully occupied."
"I know, I know, but nevertheless you must escort Alice; she and Erna
have accepted Waltenberg's invitation, and I wish them to go."
Wolfgang was surprised; he looked keenly at his future father-in-law
for an instant, and then asked, hastily, "Who and what is this
Waltenberg, sir? You treat him with extraordinary consideration, and
yet he appeared in your house to-night for the first time. Have you
known him long?"
"Certainly. His father took part in several of my schemes. A capital,
prudent man of business, who would have amassed millions had he lived
longer. Unfortunately, the son has inherited none of his practical
ability. He prefers to travel all over the earth and to consort with
all kinds of savage nations. Well, his property permits him to pursue
such follies, and it has just been nearly doubled. His aunt, his
father's only unmarried sister, died a few months ago, leaving him her
heir. He came home, indeed, only to arrange his affairs, and is already
talking of going away again. An incomprehensible man!"
The tone in which Nordheim spoke of the man for whom he had shown
such consideration betrayed his entire want of sympathy with him
personally, and Elmhorst seemed to be of the same mind, for he
instantly observed,--
"I think him insufferable! At table he talked exclusively of his
travels, and precisely as if he were delivering a lecture. All you
heard was of 'blue depths of water,' 'waving palms,' and 'dreamy
lotus-blossoms.' It was intolerable! Fraeulein von Thurgau, however,
seemed quite carried away by it. I must confess, sir, I thought all
this poetic Oriental talk far too confidential for a first interview."
The words were meant to be ironical, but they hardly concealed the
speaker's irritation. The president, however, did not observe it, but
replied, quietly, "In this case I have no objection to such
confidences; quite the contrary."
"That means--you have intentionally brought them together."
"Certainly," Nordheim replied, in some surprise at the eager haste with
which the question was put. "Erna is nineteen; it is time to think
seriously of her settlement in life, and as her relative and guardian
it is my duty to provide for it. The girl is greatly admired in
society, but no one has as yet presented himself as her suitor. She has
no money."
"No, she has no money," Wolfgang repeated as if mechanically, and his
look sought the adjoining room, where the ladies still lingered. Alice
was sitting on the sofa, and Erna stood before her, her slender white
figure framed in by the door-way.
"I cannot blame the men," the president continued. "Erna's only
inheritance is the couple of thousand marks paid for Wolkenstein Court;
and although I shall of course furnish my niece with a trousseau, that
would be nothing for a man whose demands upon life are at all great.
Waltenberg has no need of money,--he is wealthy himself, and of
excellent family; in short, a brilliant match. I planned it immediately
upon his return, and I think it will succeed."
He explained everything in a cool, business-like fashion, as if the
matter under discussion were some new speculation. In fact, the
'settlement' of his niece was for him an affair of business, as had
been his daughter's betrothal. In the one case money was necessary in
exchange for a bride, in the other intelligence and ability, and
Nordheim could express himself with perfect freedom to his future
son-in-law, who occupied the same point of view and had acted upon
principles similar to his own. But just now the young man's face was
strangely pale, and there was an odd expression in the eyes fixed upon
the picture framed in by the arched door-way and brilliantly
illuminated in the candle-light.
"And you think Fraeulein von Thurgau is agreed?" he asked, slowly, at
last, without averting his gaze.
"She will not be such a fool as to reject such good fortune. The girl
is, to be sure, possessed by unaccountable fancies, obstinate as her
father, and on certain points not to be controlled. We scarcely
harmonize in our views, any one can see that, but this time I think we
shall agree. Such a man as Waltenberg with his eccentricities is
precisely after Erna's taste. I think her quite capable of accompanying
him in his wanderings, if he cannot make up his mind to relinquish
them."
"And why not?" Wolfgang said, harshly. "It is so uncommonly romantic
and interesting, life in foreign lands with no occupation and no
country. With no duties to exercise any controlling influence, life can
be dreamed away beneath the palms in inactive enjoyment. To me such an
existence, however, seems pitiable; it would be impossible for me."
"You are really indignant," said Nordheim, amazed at this sudden
outburst. "You forget that Waltenberg has always been wealthy. You and
I must work to attain eminence; no such necessity exists for him,--he
has always occupied the height towards which we must climb. Such men
are rarely fit for serious exertion."
He turned to a passing servant and gave him an order. But Wolfgang
stood motionless and gloomy, his gaze still fixed upon the white figure
'compounded as it were of air and Alpine snow, with the white fairylike
flower of its waters crowning its fair hair,' and inaudibly but with
intense bitterness he muttered, "Yes, he is rich, and so he has a right
to be happy."
CHAPTER VIII.
ANOTHER CLIME.
Waltenberg's dwelling was somewhat remote from the central portion of
the city; it was a fine, spacious villa, surrounded by a garden which
was almost a park. It had been built by the father of the present
possessor, and had been occupied by him until his death. Since then it
had been empty, for the son, always travelling in distant lands, was
far too wealthy to think of renting it. He left it in charge of a
trustworthy person, whose duty it had been to receive, to unpack, and
to arrange the various chests and packages sent home by his master from
time to time, until now, after the lapse of a decade, the closed doors
and windows were again opened, and the desolate rooms showed signs of
occupation.
The large balconied apartment in the middle of the house was still
furnished precisely as it had been in the lifetime of its former
master. There was no magnificence here as in the Nordheim mansion, but
on every hand was to be observed the solid comfort of a well-to-do
burgher. The persons present at this time in the room, however, looked
strangely foreign. A negro black as night, with woolly hair, and a
slender, brown Malay lad, both in fantastic Oriental costume, were busy
arranging a table with flowers and all kinds of fruits, while a third
individual stood in the middle of the room giving the necessary
directions.
The dress of this last was European in cut, and seemed to be something
between the garb of a sailor and that of a farmer. Its wearer was an
elderly man, very tall and thin, but at the same time most powerfully
built. His close-cut hair was grizzled here and there, and his
furrowed, sunburned face was scarcely less brown than that of the
Malay. But from the brown face looked forth a pair of genuine German,
blue eyes, and the words that issued from the man's lips were such
pure, unadulterated German as is spoken only by those to whom it is the
mother-tongue.
"The flowers in the centre!" he ordered. "Herr Waltenberg wishes it to
be romantic; he must have his way. Said, boy, don't stand the silver
epergnes close together like a pair of grenadiers; put them at either
end of the table, and the glasses on the side-table where the wine is to
be served. Do you understand?"
"Oh, yes, master," the negro replied, in English.
"And speak German. Do you not know that we are in Germany, on this
God-forsaken soil where you freeze stiff in March, and where the sun
appears once a month, and then only at the command of the authorities?
I detest it, as does Herr Waltenberg. But you must learn German, or,
true as my name is Veit Gronau, you'll repent it. You're still half a
heathen, and Djelma there is a whole one. See how he stares! Do you
understand a word I say, boy?"
The Malay shook his head. Evidently his progress in the German tongue
was slow, and the negro, who was much farther advanced, was obliged to
come to his assistance frequently.
"It is the master's fault; he talks your gibberish to you too often,"
Veit Gronau grumbled. "If I did not insist upon your speaking German
neither of you would understand a syllable of it. There! now the table
is ready. All fruit and flowers, and nothing really fit to eat and
drink. That, I suppose, is romantic; I think it crazy, which is very
much the same thing, after all."
"Are there ladies coming?" Said asked, inquisitively.
"Unfortunately, yes. It is no pleasure, but an honour, for in this
country they are treated with immense respect, very differently from
your black and brown women; so behave yourselves!"
He would probably have continued his admonitions, but at this moment
the door opened and the master of the house entered. He glanced at the
table loaded with flowers and fruit, signed to Said to retire to the
antechamber, spoke a few words in some Indian tongue to Djelma, who
straightway disappeared, and then turning to Veit Gronau, said,
"President Nordheim has sent an excuse, but the rest are coming; Herr
Gersdorf has also accepted. You will escape for this time the encounter
you have so dreaded, Gronau."
"Dreaded?" the other repeated. "Hardly that! It certainly would have
given me no great pleasure to meet an old playmate with whom I was once
on most familiar terms, and to be honoured by him with a condescending
nod when I was presented to him as a kind of servant."
"As my secretary?" Waltenberg said, with emphasis. "I should not
suppose such a position could be in any wise humiliating."
Gronau shrugged his shoulders: "Secretary, steward, travelling
companion, all in one. True, you have always treated me like a
fellow-countryman, and not as an inferior, Herr Waltenberg. When you
picked me up in Melbourne I was very near starvation, and I should have
starved but for you. God requite you!"
"Nonsense!" said Ernst, repudiating his gratitude almost harshly. "You
were a priceless discovery for me, with your knowledge of languages and
your practical experience, and I think we have been well content with
each other for these six years. So the president was one of your
playmates?"
"Yes, we were the children of neighbours, and grew up together until
life parted us, sending one hither and the other thither. He always
prophesied to me, and to Benno Reinsfeld, who was one of us, that I
should be a poor devil."
Waltenberg had gone to the window, and was looking out with some
impatience while nevertheless listening attentively. The youth of the
man whom he had known only in the midst of wealth and luxury seemed to
interest him.
"Of course all three of us entertained vast schemes for the future,"
Veit continued, with good-humoured self-ridicule. "I was to go abroad
and return a wealthy nabob, Reinsfeld was to astound the world with
some wonderful invention; we were boys who imagined that the universe
belonged to us. But Nordheim, the wise, poured cold water upon our
heated brains. 'Neither of you will ever achieve anything,' said he,
'for you do not understand expediency.' We jeered at the calculator of
twenty with his wonderful sagacity, but he was right. I have wandered
about the world, and have tried my hand at everything, but I have
always been poor as a church mouse, and Reinsfeld with all his talent
was left in the lurch as a paltry engineer, while our comrade Nordheim
is a millionaire and a railway king,--because he understood
expediency."
"He certainly has always understood that," Waltenberg said, coolly. "He
occupies an extremely influential position---- But there come our
guests."
He hastily left the window and went to receive his friends. A carriage
had drawn up before the door, bringing Frau von Lasberg and Alice,
escorted by Elmhorst. Wolfgang had not succeeded in evading the duty of
accompanying his betrothed, and he had no excuse for refusing an
invitation which his future father-in law regarded with such favour. He
therefore submitted to necessity, but any one who knew him could see
that, in spite of the extreme courtesy with which he greeted his host,
he was making a great sacrifice. The two men, who had instinctively
disliked each other from the first, hid their antipathy under a
strictly courteous demeanour.
"Fraeulein von Thurgau is late; she drove to the court-councillor's to
call for Baroness Ernsthausen." Frau von Lasberg, who gave this
information, was rather surprised by it herself. She had supposed that
Molly was in the country under the secure guardianship of her
granduncle; instead of which a note had arrived in the morning for Erna
begging her to call for her on her way to Herr Waltenberg's. Her
journey must have been postponed, probably for several days. But the
old lady's surprise was transformed to indignation upon the entrance of
Herr Gersdorf. Actually a rendezvous! And the ladies of Nordheim's
family were made accomplices as it were, since Molly was under their
protection. This must not be concealed from the girl's parents: they
should hear of it this very day; and Frau von Lasberg, who was not at
all inclined to play the part of a guardian-angel, received Herr
Gersdorf with icy coldness. Unfortunately, it did not produce the
slightest impression upon him; there was an expression of great content
upon his grave features, and he took part in the conversation with
unusual readiness.
Meanwhile, Erna had called at the court-councillor's, where she had
waited in the carriage for five minutes before the little Baroness
appeared in a state of great agitation, quite startling her friend by
the stormy embrace with which she greeted her.
"What is the matter, Molly?" she asked. "You seem quite beside
yourself."
"I am betrothed!--betrothed to Albert," the girl exclaimed, "and we are
to be married in three months! Oh, my granduncle is the dearest, most
delightful of men! I could kiss him if he were not so very ugly!"
Erna's composure was not so easily shaken as Molly's, but, knowing as
she did the views of the entire Ernsthausen family, this news was
certainly surprising.
"Your parents have given their consent?" she asked. "And so suddenly?
It seemed quite impossible a few days ago."
"Nothing is impossible!" Molly cried, in a rapture. "Oh, I prayed so
fervently that my granduncle would commit some folly! But I never
dreamed of this; and you will hardly believe it, Erna,--you cannot!"
"Do talk sensibly. Pray explain yourself," said Erna.
"He has married! Seventy, and married! He is a bridegroom. Oh, I shall
die of laughter!" And she did laugh until the tears came.
"The old Baron--married?" Erna repeated, incredulously.
"Yes, to an old maid of irreproachable descent. The affair was arranged
long ago; but it was kept secret, because he was afraid of a scene with
my father and mother. He came to town simply and solely to alter his
will, which was left with his attorney, and immediately after his
return he had the knot tied fast by church and state, and papa says he
has left all his money to his bride, and we shall not have a penny, so
I am no match at all. Think what good luck!"
The young girl ran on without pausing for an instant, so that it was
impossible to interpose a word. She scarcely gave herself time to
take breath before she began again: "They had actually formed a
conspiracy,--papa and your wise old duenna, to whom I owe something for
her conduct as long as I live. I was to be tied up like a parcel and
sent to my granduncle's address. My prayers and tears were of no
avail,--my trunks were packed. Suddenly my granduncle's letter
announcing his marriage fell into the midst of us like a bombshell.
Papa looked ready to have a stroke, mamma went into violent hysterics,
and I danced about my room tossing the things out of my trunks, for of
course the journey was out of the question. The next morning was like
the calm after ten thunder-storms; my granduncle was excommunicated
with bell, book, and candle. There was a secret conference between my
parents, and when Albert came in the afternoon, he was accepted without
a word."
"And you were absolutely happy, I am sure," Erna at last contrived to
interpose.
"No; at first I was angry," Molly declared, with a little grimace,
"Albert behaved so prosaically. Instead of talking of our eternal love
and our half-broken hearts, he told my father the exact amount of his
income, and explained his prospects. Of course I was listening in the
next room, and I was outraged; but papa and mamma seemed really quite
gentle and amiable. At last they called me in, and there was general
embracing and emotion. Of course I cried too, although I would far
rather have danced, and I was provoked with Albert for not shedding a
single tear! A telegram was despatched to my granduncle,--it will
embitter his honeymoon,--and to-morrow the announcements of the
betrothal are to be sent out, and in three months we are to be
married."
In the excess of her happiness the little Baroness threw her arms
around her friend and embraced her afresh. The carriage, however, now
reached its destination, and Molly's supreme moment of triumph was at
hand. While the master of the house was receiving Fraeulein von Thurgau,
Gersdorf, secure in his lately-acquired right, hastened towards his
betrothed, thus provoking an indignant glance from Frau von Lasberg. "I
supposed you had already left town, Baroness," she remarked, in her
sharpest tone.
"Oh, no, madame," Molly replied, with the most innocent air. "I did, it
is true, propose to pay my granduncle a visit, but as he is just
married----"
"What?" asked the old lady, imagining she had not heard correctly.
"The marriage of my granduncle, Baron Ernsthausen of Frankenstein, and
my betrothal took place at the same time. Allow me, madame, to present
my betrothed to you."
The smile on Waltenberg's face at these words showed that he was in the
secret, but Frau von Lasberg sat quite dumfounded, and it was not until
all the rest had eagerly pressed around Molly with their wishes for her
happiness that she made up her mind to utter a few formal,
congratulatory words, which the girl received with a smile that was not
without malice. But Molly was too happy to-day to have refused
forgiveness to her worst enemy, and her brilliant gaiety was
contagious. All present seemed greatly to enjoy the occasion, although,
as Gronau expressed it, 'there was nothing fit to eat.' He required
some refreshment more solid than fruit, rare as such exquisite fruit
was at this season of the year, and something better to drink than the
heavy, fragrant cordial, which could be but sparingly sipped. The
ladies, however, did not seem to share his opinion, and all left the
table in a most cheerful mood to inspect the host's collection, which
occupied the entire upper story.
Waltenberg conducted his guests up the staircase, and when the tall
folding-doors opened into the suite of rooms, the entire party seemed
suddenly transported as by magic from the gray wintry atmosphere of
this northern March day to the sunny, glowing East.
Foreign treasures from every zone were here heaped up in such lavish
profusion as only years spent abroad, and abundant means, could make
possible; but the arrangement of this almost priceless collection would
have driven a man of science to despair. There was not the faintest
attempt at order of a scientific kind,--picturesque effect alone was
aimed at, and this was achieved; groups of exotic plants placed here
and there combined to present a picture before which all preconceived
ideas of a genuine 'collection' vanished.
Rugs of the richest Oriental fabrics and colours covered the walls and
draped the windows and tables; gorgeously ornamented weapons were hung
against these tapestries; cabinets contained specimens of glass and
porcelain exquisite in hue and shape; skins of tigers and lions were
spread upon the floor; and Said and Djelma in their fantastic costume
added to the foreign effect, which was heightened by the yellow light
which penetrated the coloured glass of the windows and bathed the whole
in what seemed a magical southern sunshine.
Waltenberg was a delightful cicerone. He led his guests from one room
to another, explaining and pointing out rare objects of art, and
enjoying to the full their appreciation of his treasures. As he told of
how and where this and that article had been obtained, his hearers were
impressed with the strange, unreal character of the life the man had
led. It was natural that he should address himself especially to Erna,
for the girl's remarks showed intense interest in the fantastic
character of her surroundings. Elmhorst preserved a courteous but cold
reserve in his expressions of admiration, and Alice and Frau von
Lasberg were soon wearied.
Gersdorf, who was familiar with his friend's collection, played the
part of guide to his betrothed; by no means an easy task, for while
Molly desired to see and to admire everything, her chief object of
interest was her Albert. She fluttered about like some gay butterfly
just escaped from the chrysalis, and was so like a joyous child at
sight of each new and rare object, that Frau von Lasberg felt it her
duty to interfere, although she knew well how little such interference
would avail. She actually barred the young girl's way while Gersdorf
was talking with Alice.
"My dear Baroness, I really must remind you that there are proprieties
which a young girl must observe when she is betrothed. She should
preserve her feminine dignity, and not proclaim to all the world that
she is quite beside herself with delight. A betrothal is----"
"Something heavenly!" Molly interrupted her. "I should like to know how
my granduncle behaved; if he longed to dance all day long as I do?"
"One would suppose you still a child, Molly," the old lady said,
indignantly. "Look at Alice; she too is betrothed, and has been so for
only a few days."
Molly clasped her hands with an expression of mock horror: "Oh, yes,
but heaven defend me from a lover like hers!"
"Baroness, you forget yourself!"
"Indeed I cannot help it, madame; but Alice is quite content, and Herr
Elmhorst is the pink of courtesy. All that one hears is, 'Does this
please you, my dear Alice?' and, 'Just as you choose, my dear Alice.'
Always polite, always considerate. But if Albert should treat me with
such cool deference, his manner always at the freezing-point, I should
straightway send him back his ring."
Frau von Lasberg heaved a long sigh. It was plainly impossible to
impress Molly with a sense of decorum, and she held her peace,
whereupon the girl, forgetting all the old Baroness's admonitions, shot
off like an arrow to rejoin her lover.
Meanwhile, Elmhorst had entered into conversation with Veit Gronau, who
had been presented to him as to the rest as Waltenberg's private
secretary, and who, true to his expressed opinion that the presence of
ladies was an honour but not a pleasure, held himself aloof from them.
Of course they talked of the objects about them, and Wolfgang said,
pointing to the negro and the Malay, who were busy in bringing forward
for closer inspection various articles indicated by their master, "Herr
Waltenberg seems to prefer foreigners for servants; and you too, Herr
Secretary, in spite of your name and your German tongue, appear to me
more than half a foreigner."
"You are right," Gronau assented. "I have been away from Germany for
twenty-five years, and never thought to see old Europe again. I met
Herr Waltenberg in Australia; that black fellow there, Said, we brought
back from an African tour, and we picked up Djelma only the year before
last, in Ceylon, which is why he is still so stupid. We lack only a
pig-tailed Chinaman and a cannibal from the South Seas to make our
menagerie complete."
"There is no disputing about tastes," Elmhorst said, with a shrug; "but
I am afraid that Herr Waltenberg has become so entirely estranged from
his native land in all his habits of life that he will find it
impossible to live here."
"We have no idea of doing so," Veit replied, with blunt frankness. "How
under heaven could we ever reconcile ourselves to the dull existence
led here? We shall leave Germany as soon as possible."
Involuntarily Wolfgang breathed a sigh of relief. "You appear to have
no special love for your native land," he observed.
"None at all. As Herr Waltenberg says, one must outgrow all national
prejudices. He delivered me a long sermon upon that text when on the
ship coming home a bragging American undertook to revile Germany."
"What! you quarrelled with him for so speaking?"
"Not exactly. I only knocked him down," Veit said, coolly. "It did not
come to a quarrel; he picked himself up and ran to the captain, who
made himself rather disagreeable, but Herr Waltenberg finally
interfered, and paid the man for his outraged dignity, and I was quite
a distinguished person thereafter. Not another word was uttered in
dispraise of Germany."
"I had a deal of trouble, however, in arranging the affair," said
Waltenberg, who overheard the last words. "If the man had refused to be
appeased, we should have had no end of annoyance. You behaved like an
irritable game-cock, Gronau, and the provocation was not worth it."
"Why, what would you have had me do?" growled Gronau.
"Shrug your shoulders and keep silent. Of what importance is the
opinion of a stranger? The man had a right to his views, as you had to
yours."
"You seem indeed to have outgrown all 'national prejudice,' Herr
Waltenberg," Wolfgang said, with evident irony.
"I certainly consider it an honourable distinction to be as free from
prejudice as possible."
"But under certain circumstances one neither could nor should be thus
free. Doubtless you are right, but I should have been in the wrong with
Herr Gronau; I should have acted as he did."
"Indeed, Herr Elmhorst? Such sentiments from you surprise me."
"Why from _me_?" The tone in which the question was put was sharp and
cold.
"Because you seem to me perfectly capable of preserving your
self-control. Your entire personality is indicative of such decision,
such perfect command of circumstances, that I am convinced you always
know what you are about. Unfortunately, that is not so with us
idealists; we ought to learn of you."
The words sounded courteous, but the sting in them made itself felt,
and Elmhorst was not a man to allow them to pass unresented. His look
grew dark: "Ah, indeed? You consider yourself an idealist, Herr
Waltenberg?"
"I do,--or do you count yourself among them?"
"No," Wolfgang said, coldly; "but among those quick to resent an
insult."
His attitude and manner were so provoking that Waltenberg perceived the
necessity for moderation, although his nature rebelled against yielding
to the 'fortune-hunter' who confronted him so proudly. What turn the
conversation might have taken, however, it is impossible to say, for
Herr Gersdorf here interrupted it. He had no suspicion of what was
going on, and turned to Wolfgang with, "I have just heard, Herr
Elmhorst, that you leave town to-morrow. May I beg you to carry my warm
remembrances to my cousin Reinsfeld?"
"I will do so with pleasure, Herr Gersdorf. I may tell him of your
betrothal?"
"Certainly. I shall write to him shortly, and trust we may see him upon
our wedding-tour."
Waltenberg had turned away, quite conscious that he could not possibly
provoke a quarrel with his guest, and well pleased that Gersdorf had
intervened. Veit Gronau, however, seemed suddenly interested.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," said he: "you mentioned a name which I remember
from the time of my boyhood. Are you speaking of the engineer Benno
Reinsfeld?"
"No, but of his son," Gersdorf said, in some surprise,--"a young
physician, and a friend of Herr Elmhorst's."
"And the father?"
"Dead, more than twenty years ago."
Gronau's rugged features worked strangely, and he hastily passed his
hand across his eyes:
"Ah, yes, I might have known it. When one inquires after twenty-five
years he finds death has been busy among his friends and comrades. And
so Benno Reinsfeld is gone! He was the best of us all, and the most
talented. I suppose his inventive genius never brought him wealth?"
"Had he a gift that way?" asked Gersdorf. "I never heard of it, and it
was never recognized, for he died a simple engineer. His son has had to
make his own way in the world, and has become a very clever physician,
as Herr Elmhorst will tell you."
"An extremely skilful physician," Elmhorst declared; "only too modest.
He has no capacity for bringing himself and his talent into notice."
"Just like his father," said Gronau. "He always allowed himself to be
thrust aside and made use of by any one who knew how to do so. God rest
his soul! he was the kindest, most faithful comrade man ever had!"
Meanwhile, Waltenberg had joined Erna von Thurgau at the other end of
the room. He had just shown her a rarely beautiful specimen of coral,
and as he replaced it he said, "Have you been at all interested? I
should be so glad if my 'treasures,' as you call them, could arouse
more than a fleeting interest with you; I might then look for some
indulgence in those grave eyes, in which I seem always to read
reproach. Confess, Fraeulein von Thurgau, that you cannot forgive the
cosmopolite for becoming so entirely estranged from his home."
"At least I can now make excuses for him," said Erna, smiling. "This
enchanted domain is fascinatingly bewildering; it is difficult, nay,
almost impossible, to withstand its spell."
"And yet these are only the mute, dead witnesses of a life
inexhaustible in beauty and charm. If you could see it all in its home
where it belongs, you would understand why I cannot exist beneath these
cold northern skies, why I am so powerfully attracted to lands of
sunshine. You too would find their charm irresistible."
"Perhaps so. And still I might be possessed in your lands of sunshine
by intense yearning for the cool mountains of my home. But we will not
dispute about a question that only a trial could decide, a trial that I
shall hardly make."
"Why should you not make it?"
"Because such an amount of freedom is not accorded to my sex. We cannot
wander about the world alone at will as you do."
"Alone!" Ernst repeated, in a low tone. "But you might trust yourself
to a protector, a guide who would reveal this new world to you, whose
delight it would be to unlock its pleasures for you. You may visit it
some day with such a one beside you."
His last words were spoken so as to be audible to Erna alone. She
looked up at him in surprise, and encountered a glance of such
unmistakable passion that she changed colour and involuntarily turned
aside.
"It is very improbable," she said, coldly. "One must have a natural
inclination for such a life, and I----"
"You are made for it," he eagerly interrupted her,--"you alone among
hundreds of women. I am sure of it."
"Are you so wonderfully gifted with insight, Herr Waltenberg?" the girl
asked, calmly. "We meet today for the second time,--surely your
estimate of the character of a stranger is overbold."
The rebuff was evident; Waltenberg bit his lip. "You are right,
Fraeulein von Thurgau," he replied, "perfectly right. In this world of
forms and unrealities one may easily be mistaken in an estimate of
character. There is no intensity of feeling here, and an ardent word
that rises involuntarily to the lips may well be accounted overbold.
All here must conform to times and rules. I beg pardon for my
inadvertence."
He bowed and joined the other ladies. Erna felt relieved by his
absence; she had received his evident attentions without attaching any
importance to them, without a suspicion of her uncle's plans. It
certainly was bold to address her thus in a second interview, but it
was not offensive, and she--she liked what was bold and unusual,
inconsistent with form and rule. Why did she so shrink from his
half-concealed declaration? Why did a kind of terror possess her at the
thought of ever being obliged to face the question at which he had
hinted? She could not answer.
Frau von Lasberg now rose to go. In truth, the visit had been greatly
prolonged, and all took leave. Farewells and courteous expressions of
pleasure were interchanged, and Ernst Waltenberg took pains to show
himself to the last the amiable, courteous host. But he hardly
succeeded in controlling the mood which his conversation with Erna had
induced. There was a degree of constraint in his manner of taking leave
of his guests, and he was relieved by their departure. He stood looking
gloomily after the carriages as they rolled away, and then turned back
to the deserted rooms.
He was deeply wounded and vexed by the rebuff he had met with. It
grated upon his impassioned nature like a breath from the icy north
which he so detested; he retired to his beloved Orient, which here
surrounded him with its lights and colour. But something of the chill
seemed to linger here,--everything looked dreary and colourless,--it
was, after all, but a lifeless image of the reality.
"Mister Gronau, what ails the master?" asked Said, who appeared after a
while with Djelma in the balconied room to clear away the table. "He
wants to be alone; he's in a very bad humour."
"Yes, very bad," Djelma added, quick to use the few German words he
knew.
Veit Gronau had also observed the master's change of mood, but could
find no explanation for it. However, in his reply to the servants he
unconsciously hit the nail upon the head. He said, briefly, "It is all
because he invited ladies. Wherever there are ladies there is always
sure to be trouble."
"What, always?" asked Said, who seemed hardly to understand.
"Always!" Gronau declared, impressively. "No matter whether they are
white or brown or black, they always make trouble. And so the only
thing to do is to keep out of their way. Remember that, you
scoundrels."
CHAPTER IX.
THE HERR PRESIDENT SPEAKS.
Summer had come; it was only early summer still however, in the
mountains, for it was the middle of June; but the woods and meadows
were clothed in fresh green, and only the loftiest peaks wore the
mantle of snow which was never laid aside. Up there neither spring,
summer, nor autumn had any existence: winter reigned in eternal, icy
splendour.
The extensive Alpine valley which three years ago lay undisturbed in
its solemn, dreary solitude, now showed all the traces of the human
intellect which was then just invading it with its host of obedient
forces. Dark openings yawned in the walls of rock, and from the depths
a narrow path wound upward in serpentine lines,--the iron road to which
forest and rock had been forced to yield,--while across the Wolkenstein
chasm the masterpiece of the whole gigantic undertaking, the bridge,
now wellnigh completed, seemed to hover in air above the dizzy depths.
It had been no easy task to build this railway, and the Wolkenstein
domain had presented the greatest obstacles to its completion. They
seemed actually to spring out of the ground at every step; the
most careful calculations continually turned out to be imperfect,
well-devised schemes proved ineffectual, unforeseen catastrophes
occurred, and more than once imperilled the success of the undertaking.
But the man who conducted the road through the Wolkenstein section was
equal to every difficulty, was daunted by no obstacle, discouraged by
no catastrophe. He proceeded on his way with his myrmidons, step by
step subjecting to his sway the rugged and hitherto unquelled nature of
the Alpine fastnesses.
The railway company was well aware of the force it possessed in its
superintending engineer, and now extolled the wisdom of its president
in the choice it had at first opposed. Gradu
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