For a few moments after leaving Lucie Werner's features wore a smile of triumph; he thought the proud beauty subdued and terrified by his threats; but when he reached his own apartment, and had time for reflection, he felt by no means so sure of his victory. As his excitement subsided he became greatly discontented with himself, and bitterly regretted having yielded to one of the outbursts of passion which had cost him dear in his boyish years, but which he had lately learned to control. Pacing his room to and fro, he pondered upon the occurrences of the past hour. While in Lucie's presence, rage at the thought of his brother's successful rivalry had bewildered his understanding; he could not think clearly. Reason had returned, and he confessed to himself that he had played the part of a jealous fool. His brother was no intriguer, his ways were never those of a schemer. But whence, if not from Arno, could Fräulein Müller have received her information? She saw no one but the inmates of the castle, and she had lately received no letters, as no one knew better than Werner, who distributed the letters from the post-bag every morning. He grew very uncomfortable; Lucie had known of his acquaintance with Repuin, and she had now learned of what nature this acquaintance was; she still maintained a correspondence with influential people in Prussia, Adèle von Guntram, President von Guntram's daughter, was her most intimate friend, and any information forwarded to them would soon reach the Chancellor's office.
The longer the Finanzrath reflected the more grave did the situation appear to him. Vague pictures of an examination of his papers, of an arrest, and possible trial for high treason presented themselves to his imagination. Finally, he seated himself at his writing-table, and thought he would write to inform Repuin of what he had heard. This, however, proved to be by no means an easy task; he could scarcely do it without implicating Lucie, and should he mention her relations with Adèle von Guntram the Russian's suspicions would surely be aroused; he would make his appearance at the castle with Sorr, who would enforce his marital rights. Should this occur, Lucie would be restrained by no considerations from betraying him. At present she would feel obliged to have some regard for the man who knew her secret and held her fate in his hands. He tore up his letter to Repuin, and decided to attempt to avert in another way the danger that menaced him. Lucie was not implacable; she had no reason for bringing distress upon the Hohenwald family by betraying him; only a desire for revenge or to defend herself from attack could prompt her to do this; he would ask her pardon for expressions used in the heat of passion, and would not allow his love for the beautiful woman or his jealousy to carry him so far again. Soothed by these reflections, Werner began to look to the future with confidence.
What now? Lucie had asked herself, when left alone in the castle garden. To answer this question was not easy. Suppose that Werner, impelled by anger and jealousy, should discover her retreat to Count Repuin, would not her best course be to leave the castle immediately, and await in some secluded village the result of Adèle's efforts to procure her another situation? The thought of the consequences of Werner's betrayal of her secret filled her with horror. What if Sorr, summoned by the Finanzrath, should appear at the castle and require her to return to him! She felt sure that the old Freiherr would grant her his protection, but what would it avail her against her husband! And Arno? Lucie's heart died within her as she thought of the pain that a knowledge of her secret would cause him. Nothing was left her but a hurried flight. But no, she would not leave Hohenwald; had she not promised Kurt and Celia to use her influence with the old Freiherr to induce him to forget the wretched feud with the Posenecks? Could she disappoint Celia's confidence in her by forsaking her at her need, in selfish care for her own safety? Would not Kurt in that case have a right to recall the promise he had given her? And what mischief might ensue! No, it was her sacred duty to watch over Celia; she would not leave the castle for some time yet. But she had written to Adèle begging her to procure another situation for her as soon as possible. The letter had gone; should she not write another and revoke her request?
In the midst of her uncertainty, Celia, who had seen from her window that Werner had returned to the castle, joined her again, eager to know the result of the interview with her eldest brother. "Well?" she asked.
"You were right, I ought not to have spoken to your brother," Anna replied; "he does not believe me. I cannot tell you more, Celia; it is enough that my appeal to him was quite in vain."
"I knew how it would be," the girl said, sadly; "I wish you had taken my advice, but it is not yet too late. Let me call Arno; he is in his room, I saw him go to it; he will be here in a few minutes. Indeed, dear Anna, Arno has the best heart in the world. He is not so amiable and agreeable as Werner, he cannot pay compliments, but you can rely upon him. I have often watched him when he thought no one was observing him, and I am quite sure that he likes you very much. He will believe you, and soon devise some way of shielding our dear old father from danger. Do speak with Arno, dearest Anna. Let me call him. May I?"
"Yes; I will await him here."
Celia's gratitude was shown by a fervent kiss, and she flew towards the castle, returning in a few moments with Arno, whose hand she held in hers.
"Here he is!" she exclaimed as she approached Anna. "Only think, the miserable fellow refused to come at first. Scold him well, Anna dear; although he does look so grim, he is really dear and good. There, he is smiling; now you need not be afraid of him. Adieu!"
And she was gone, tossing a kiss to her friend as she vanished in the shrubbery.
The smile which her merry talk had called forth faded from Arno's grave face as he bowed formally to Lucie. "I await your commands, Fräulein Müller," he said. "You must forgive my momentary hesitation to follow my sister. I thought her jesting when she told me you wished to speak with me."
"Celia was not jesting, Herr Baron. I requested an interview with you, and I thank you for complying with my wishes."
A low bow was Arno's only reply.
Lucie had thought it would be easier to begin a conversation with Arno. As he now walked beside her, grave and serious, without smoothing the way for the opening of their talk by a single word, she felt exceedingly uncomfortable. Her last words to him in the library had deeply offended him, as was evident from the formality of his manner. She had determined to make no allusion to their previous interview; but how could she help it? And she longed to say one kind word to him.
"You are angry with me, Herr Baron," she began, and her fair face flushed slightly; she could not look up at him as she spoke,--her eyes sought the ground. "I regret deeply if what I was forced to say to you offended you. I did not mean that it should. It was my duty to tell you the perfect truth; if I did this too harshly, I pray you not to be angry with me. I told you to-day that your words would drive me from Castle Hohenwald; I was overhasty. After calm consideration, I have decided not to go away. I know that Baron Arno von Hohenwald is too proud and too noble to repeat words that could pain me; I know that although I was forced to offend him, he will still be my friend. May I not cherish this conviction, Herr Baron?"
As she spoke the last words Lucie looked up at Arno and held out her hand, but he did not take it. He replied, coldly and with a low bow, "You are very kind, Fräulein Müller. I am glad that you do me justice; I am, indeed, too proud ever again to intrude upon you after the harsh rejection I have experienced. I assure you that you shall never hear from me a word that could cause you to leave Hohenwald sooner than you would otherwise intend. May I hope that this assurance is satisfactory to you, and that you will inform me to what I owe the honour of this interview?"
Lucie slowly let fall her hand; Arno's cold refusal to take it, and his measured politeness, convinced her that she had nothing to fear from him, and yet she was not glad that he was thus able to command his feelings; his cold words grieved her. But he must not suspect this; she forced her composure to equal his own as she explained to him that she had a duty to fulfil towards the Freiherr and himself in telling him of the warning sent to them from a perfectly trustworthy source. His brother's plots were discovered, Castle Hohenwald was under surveillance, and such suspicion rested upon his father and himself of sharing in the Finanzrath's schemes that they were threatened with arrest. "I trust you, Herr Baron," Lucie concluded, "to devise means for averting the threatened danger. I had hoped that the immediate departure of the Finanzrath would effect this, and therefore I first appealed to him, told him what I have told you, and begged him to leave the castle, but he would not believe in my information, refused to be guided by it, and thus forced me to turn to you, Herr Baron."
"Which you would not otherwise have done," Arno rejoined, bitterly. "Nevertheless I am grateful to you for your warning; but you must excuse me for putting one question to you. You tell me that Werner refused to believe in your information. Did he tell you his reason for doubting it?"
Lucie hesitated to reply. She had not expected this question, and yet it was a very natural one. How could Arno expect to induce his brother to depart if he were not informed of the entire state of the case? He must know that the Finanzrath mistrusted him, and this Lucie could tell him only by letting him know of Werner's jealousy. It offended her sense of delicacy to inform Arno of this; but it was her duty to overcome her scruples and let him know what insane folly possessed Werner.
"You do not answer," Arno continued, after a short pause, "and yet my question is a very simple one."
"It shall be answered, Herr Baron. The Herr Finanzrath thinks that I have been induced by you to acquaint him with a fictitious tale of danger, in hopes that terror may drive him from Castle Hohenwald."
"Indeed? The suspicion is like him!" Arno exclaimed, indignantly. "And why should I wish to drive him from the castle, and why should you lend yourself to second me by a falsehood? I do not perceive the connection here."
Lucie's cheeks were crimson; but, hard as it was to reply, she did it bravely. "The Herr Finanzrath explained this in a manner very insulting to me. He thinks that it is my desire as well as yours to banish him from Castle Hohenwald, that we may escape his observation. You will not require me to explain further the disgraceful suspicions aroused in his mind by an unfortunate passion."
"Shameful!" Arno exclaimed. "I have long known of his passion for you,--his cold, calculating nature is incapable of a genuine affection; his love is an insult to you. I did not believe that he would dare to offend you by such unworthy suspicions; he is more worthless than I thought him. I thank you from my heart for bestowing your confidence upon me; rest assured you shall not repent it."
For a few minutes they walked on in silence, Arno thinking of Werner's silly suspicion that he was the author of Anna's warning. Who was its author? The answer that instantly occurred to him to this question disturbed the satisfaction that Anna's frankness had afforded him. Her information could proceed from but one person, from him with whom he had so lately seen her in earnest conversation; from Kurt von Poseneck.
But a moment ago he had regarded with profound contempt Werner's groundless jealousy, and yet now he suddenly felt a like sensation with regard to the rival who had robbed him of Anna's love. Her warning lost all credibility in his eyes; he rebelled against receiving it from a man whom he hated, and felt inclined, as Werner had done, to believe that it had been given with some unworthy aim. He must have certainty upon this point.
All that was genial vanished from his manner as he turned to Lucie, and with the same icy courtesy that had characterized his first address to her, said, "I owe you a debt of gratitude, Fräulein Müller, but let me pray you to complete your information. It is very important that I should know the source of your warning. Tell me frankly, do I owe it to Herr Kurt von Poseneck?"
"How did you know? What made you think of him?" Lucie asked, greatly surprised.
"Thank you, Fräulein Müller; I am answered. You do not deny, then, that Herr von Poseneck has commissioned you to communicate with me?"
"Why should I deny it? But I really cannot understand how----"
"How I arrived at the knowledge of your intimate relations with Herr von Poseneck? Chance revealed to me your secret. I saw you to-day in the forest engaged in confidential discourse with him. I now know why you refused me all hope in the future."
"Herr Baron!----"
"Say no more! Why should you blush because I allude to your relations with Herr von Poseneck and to our interview? You never gave me a right to hope for your love; it was my fault if in my conceit I cherished hopes which you crushed as they deserved. I reproach myself, not you. I deserved the harsh repulse which I received, but I did not deserve that you should deceive me at the very time when my heart was laid bare before you. Had you but told me frankly that you loved another it would have pained me deeply, it is true, but my confidence in you would have been unshaken. At such a time you should not have told me a falsehood."
"Herr Baron, I assure you----"
"Would you still deceive me? That first falsehood was enough, and more than enough. Let us break off this conversation. Let me give you one last piece of advice in return for your warning. You know the dislike that my father entertains for the Posenecks. For this reason, perhaps, you have refrained from any mention of your intimacy with thus gentleman, and you certainly are right, for even your powerful influence would hardly avail, I fear, to conquer the hereditary hatred of a Hohenwald for a Poseneck; but if you would keep your secret, let me advise both you and Herr von Poseneck to be more circumspect in future. The people on this estate have noticed his daily visits to a certain part of the Hohenwald forest, and will shortly discover to whom these visits are paid unless you are more careful."
It was positive torture to Lucie to hear Arno's icy tone as he gave her this advice. She perceived how he suffered; he had betrayed his pain when he showed her how deeply he felt the suspicion of her untruth. This wretched mistake! But could she undeceive him without betraying Celia? And if she did,--if she proved to him that it was solely upon Celia's account that Kurt came daily to the Hohenwald forest, might there not be danger of reviving hopes which he had resigned? Still, she could not bear that he should leave her with a doubt in his mind of her integrity.
As he turned to go, with a formal bow, she lightly touched his arm. "We must not part thus, Herr Baron," she said, gravely. "You owe it to me at least to listen to me."
"What can you have to say, Fräulein Müller?" Arno asked as he paused.
"You have brought a grave accusation against me," Lucie continued, "and you have done so deceived by appearances."
"Was I deceived when I saw you scarcely an hour ago in the forest with Herr von Poseneck?"
"No; you saw correctly."
"Is it not true that Herr von Poseneck has, since your arrival at Castle Hohenwald, daily sought a certain spot in the Hohenwald forest?"
"This, too, is true."
"Is it not true that in the forest he sought the seat hidden in shrubbery near the lake, where you are so fond of dreaming away a solitary hour?"
"That is not true, at least so far as I know."
Arno's face expressed doubt and amazement, but Lucie's eyes flashed. "I have never given you cause to doubt my truth," she said, more sternly than he had ever heard her speak. "My word must suffice; I assure you that I have seen Herr von Poseneck but twice in my life, once upon the night of my arrival here, and this afternoon for the second time. I stand in no relation whatsoever with him, and our meeting to-day was entirely accidental."
"But you were talking to him so earnestly."
"And about most important matters. I esteem Herr von Poseneck very highly, I do not deny. He, inspired by the purest friendship for the Hohenwalds, begged me to warn you as I have done."
"Was this all you were talking of?"
"This and something else no less important. What it was is my secret, and I feel under no obligation to give you farther information, as you, Herr Baron, have no right to doubt my truth. This is all I wished to say; I will no longer detain you."
Arno was dismissed; he bowed in some confusion as Lucie left him, and yet, in spite of the severity of her words and manner, his heart felt lighter than before, and hope began to stir within him. "She does not love him," he repeated to himself. "There is no falsehood in those eyes."
Lucie hurried to her room before joining the family circle, according to daily custom, in the garden-room, where the old Freiherr was already looking for her,--she wished to write a few lines to Adèle. This she did hastily, delivering her letter herself to the Inspector when it was sealed, and begging him to see that it was put into the bag for the next morning's post.
A few moments after Lucie had left the Inspector's room Werner entered it. He had watched her from his window, had seen the letter in her hand, and had been filled with vague misgivings. "That letter I must see!" he had said to himself.
"Can a messenger be sent on horseback to A---- to catch the evening mail?" he asked of the Inspector, who was just putting Lucie's letter into the bag.
"Certainly, Herr Finanzrath, very easily," Hauk replied. "Old John can go on Fräulein Celia's Pluto; there is plenty of time."
"Give me the post-bag then,--I have an important letter to send; and tell John to saddle Pluto, and I will have it ready for him."
The Inspector handed him the bag, which Werner instantly carried with him to his room and opened. With a triumphant smile he took from it Lucie's letter addressed to Fräulein Adèle von Guntram. "I thought so," he muttered to himself. "I am just in time." Then tearing off the envelope he read:
"What will you think of me, dear Adèle, if a few hours after writing my last letter I tell you not to heed the request it contained? I hope soon to be able to let you know why I do this, but I cannot tell you to-day. I cannot leave Castle Hohenwald, and so you are relieved of the burden of looking for another situation for me. Farewell, dear; you will soon hear further from yourLucie."
Werner dropped the letter disappointed. "Nothing more?" he muttered. "I need not have opened this letter, although I had better know what she intends to do." He tried to put the letter in its envelope again, but it could not be done, the latter was too much torn. There was nothing for it but to destroy it. He tore it up therefore, and threw it into his waste-paper basket. Then putting several unimportant letters into the post-bag, he took it out to John, and despatched the old man upon his useless errand.
The time at which the old Freiherr expected his family to assemble about him every evening in the garden-room had come. Werner on his way thither encountered his brother, who was awaiting him at the foot of the staircase. In a few indignant words Arno informed him that Fräulein Müller had acquainted him with the manner in which her well-meant warning had been received, and said all that was possible in so short a time to induce his brother to leave Hohenwald as quickly as he could. "In the castle," he added, "there are none who do not look upon your fine-spun schemes as treasonable plotting, and it is unjust that peril should threaten all on your account."
Werner, however, who had now entirely recovered his usual self-control and ease of manner, treated his brother's words with contemptuous indifference, and thus the two men entered the garden-room together, the elder dissembling his jealousy and rage beneath an easy amiability of manner, the younger vexed and indignant at his failure to influence the brother whose ambitious vanity and want of principle were abhorrent to him.
The Finanzrath evidently felt perfectly secure, and exerted himself to prove to Fräulein Müller his sincere regret for his late want of self-control. He begged her for one of her charming songs, and meeting with a curt refusal, acquiesced in it without a word. He was all that a courteous, high-bred cavalier should be; and yet, in spite of his efforts to maintain the conversation, it flagged continually, for each member of the little circle felt a secret oppression, which made it impossible to join in it with any interest.
Arno was unusually taciturn; he possessed none of the versatility that enabled Werner so quickly to forget the serious matters that had lately occupied him. Even Celia seemed to have lost all her wonted sprightliness; she sat buried in thought beside her father's chair,--her stool placed so that he could not see her face, for she could not look him frankly in the eyes to-night, and her heart was too full to allow her to take any part in the conversation. This would soon have become monosyllabic in spite of Werner's exertions had he not casually mentioned a visit that he had paid a few days before to Grünhagen. So favourable an opportunity of turning the conversation upon Kurt did not escape Lucie; she asked Werner, with evident interest, how young Herr von Poseneck liked Grünhagen, and whether he was readily adapting himself to the European mode of life. Werner could not understand why Lucie should take so vivid an interest in Kurt, but he was glad to have found a topic upon which he could command her attention. He expatiated willingly upon Kurt's excellent capacity as a landed proprietor, and upon the admirable understanding that seemed to exist at Grünhagen between uncle and nephew.
The Freiherr listened silently; that the topic was not an agreeable one to him the frown gathering on his brow told plainly.
Arno, too, said not a word, but sat glancing now and then at Lucie with displeasure in his look. What could be Fräulein Müller's aim in this show of interest in Kurt? If it were intended as a punishment for his jealousy, it seemed but a petty revenge.
Celia, however, sat quite still, with sparkling eyes and glowing cheeks; she said nothing, but not a word that was spoken escaped her. Werner suddenly appeared kind and amiable in her eyes as he thus praised Kurt.
For a while the Freiherr endured Lucie's continued inquiries about Grünhagen and Kurt; but at last his patience was exhausted. "You seem to take a remarkable degree of interest in this fellow Poseneck, Fräulein Anna," he said, crossly; "for Heaven's sake leave him to himself in Grünhagen,--the less I hear of him the better I am pleased!"
This was the very outbreak for which Lucie had been hoping. She turned to the Freiherr and, pushing her chair nearer to his, said, "What has poor Herr von Poseneck done to you, Herr Baron, that you should be so angry with him?"
"He has done nothing to me, but I hate the Posenecks one and all," was the harsh reply.
"I am quite sure that you would like Kurt von Poseneck if you knew him, Herr Baron," Lucie rejoined.
"I don't want to know him!" the Freiherr exclaimed, discontentedly.
Nevertheless Lucie continued, boldly, "He is the very man to please you. Honest and true, earnest in character, but with the enthusiasm of youth, a thorough gentleman, but no fop, he has won golden opinions from every one during the short time that has passed since his arrival in Europe."
The Freiherr stared at her in amazement; her unexpected praise of Herr von Poseneck did not at all please him, but as she spoke she looked at him with so charming an air of entreaty that he could not be angry with her,--he even smiled as he shook his finger at her, saying, "Aha! Fräulein Anna seems quite infatuated with the young man. I had no idea that she knew him so intimately."
"Oh, yes, I know him very well, although I have really seen him but once; my opinion of him is based upon that of a far more competent judge than I am. Count Styrum, my friend Adèle's lover, is a relation of Herr von Poseneck; his word is the best warrant for the young man's excellence. A man to whom Count Styrum gives his friendship and esteem is certainly deserving of them."
"Make your acknowledgments for the compliment, Arno! Count Styrum is your friend too," the Freiherr said, with a laugh; and he then continued, half in jest and half in earnest, "The friendship of the Count, for whom I have a great regard, is certainly a recommendation for the young man, but fortunately I am entirely indifferent as to whether this Herr von Poseneck deserves your praise or not, for I have nothing to do with any of the Poseneck crew. One thing strikes me, however, and that is, that I must stop abusing them when Fräulein Anna is by. Well, well, we shall not quarrel about them, only, if she persist in singing this young fellow's praises, she will make her old adorer jealous."
Lucie smiled in reply; she had done enough for to-day, and Celia's grateful look thanked her. She arose, and going to the piano unasked, sang one of the old man's favourite songs, which would have won him to forgiveness even had he been angry.
The tones of her voice had just died away when old Franz entered the room with the post-bag, which he said had just been brought to the castle by an extra messenger, and must contain news of importance.
The Freiherr eagerly opened it, and seizing the newspapers, which, with a few letters for the Finanzrath, were all that it contained, searched them for the expected news of importance. This he found in the first one that he opened; it contained the telegram reporting the abdication of the Crown Prince of Hohenzollern. With eyes sparkling with joy the Freiherr read it aloud. "Thank God!" he exclaimed. "I trust we have done with this miserable war. Franz, bring a bottle of champagne in honour of the good news!"
"I must leave you this evening; my duty recalls me to Dresden, as I learn from this letter," Werner said, after having eagerly looked over his letters.
"What! this evening?" the Freiherr asked, and, although the question expressed surprise, there was no regret in his tone.
"I must obey the call of duty," Werner replied. "While Franz orders the carriage I will pack my portmanteau, and I hope I shall be in time to catch the night train."
He shook hands with his father, and then turned to Lucie, who was standing near the window. "I comply with your wish, and leave you; forgive me," he whispered; adding aloud, "Have you any commands for Dresden, Fräulein Müller? No?" as she answered by a gentle shake of the head. "I am sorry, but pray remember that you may always command me as you please. Adieu, Celia; be diligent and good, you little romp. Adieu, Arno; I trust you will forget, as I do, that there have lately been some differences of opinion between us; upon reflection I see that you were right in the last conversation we had together, this letter has convinced me."
He offered Arno his hand, but the latter refused to take it. "I have no confidence in you," he said, in too low a tone to be heard by the others. "I do not know your reason for this sudden departure, but I am sure that it is not regard for the safety of your family."
"Are you then implacable?"
"I refuse to reply to deceit with deceit."
"What is the matter, boys? Do not quarrel when you are taking leave of each other," the old Freiherr interposed; and Werner, with a shrug, let fall the hand he had offered his brother, and, with another general "adieu," left the room.
In his own apartment, he packed a few necessaries in his portmanteau, devoting all the time he had to a careful disposition of his papers. It was not until he was certain that not a scrap of writing was left either in desk or writing-table that he locked his portmanteau and gave it to old Franz, who came to announce that the carriage was waiting.
As he drove off, just in time to catch the night train, those whom he left behind him at Hohenwald by no means experienced the usual relief felt in his absence. They did not believe in the reason assigned by him for his hasty departure, and it aroused in his father's mind suspicions that he was more deeply implicated in rebellious plots than he had hinted. No one of the little circle could throw off the gloom that oppressed all, and the old Freiherr was rolled into his bedroom much earlier than usual.
In the course of the next few days the political horizon again darkened; all Germany keenly felt the insult offered to the King of Prussia by the French Emperor, and was ready to resent it.
"Disgraceful!" Arno exclaimed, after reading the account of it aloud in the newspapers, "This is enough to make every German forget all petty jealousies and prejudices. We should be one nation in the struggle that France thus forces upon us. I am quite sure, father, that you will gladly see me leave you to take my part in the war that now seems inevitable for the fatherland."
"Go, and God speed you, my son! Only cowards and traitors can hesitate now!"
The Freiherr spoke with profound emotion, regarding with paternal pride the while the son in whom he delighted. Celia threw her arms around her brother's neck and kissed him tenderly. "You are my own darling Arno!" she exclaimed; "the best and truest fellow in the world!"
And Lucie? She bestowed upon Arno a smile that fairly intoxicated him and impelled him to offer her his hand, in which for one fleeting instant she placed her own.
The small circle at Castle Hohenwald presented a picture in miniature of the sentiments of the entire country at this time, and every day's developments served but to increase the patriotic enthusiasm everywhere. No sooner did the cry resound from Paris, "On to Berlin!" than it was decided that as soon as war was formally declared Arno should apply for re-admission to the army, and with a view to so doing he set about arranging affairs on the estate so that his absence might cause his invalid father as little annoyance as possible. Those cares kept him from home almost every day,--it was only in the evenings that he could make one in the family circle; but these evenings, when his father's welcome was so affectionate, Celia's so enthusiastic, and Lucie's so fall of gentleness and sympathy, more than indemnified him for the hard labour of the day. Only one drawback marred the pleasure they gave him, and this was the manner in which he was constantly reminded by Lucie herself of his lasttête-à-têtewith her. What reason could she have for perpetually dragging in Kurt von Poseneck as a subject for conversation, when she could not but perceive that it was distasteful both to the old Freiherr and to himself? This the Freiherr frankly declared many times, but considerate as Lucie usually was of his wishes, on this point she paid no regard to them. With persistent obstinacy she made use of every available opportunity to refer to Kurt, to extol his admirable qualities, to describe his adventures in America, in short, to depict him as a young man of distinguished qualities both of mind and of heart.
Of course Arno never dreamed that Celia had supplied Fräulein Müller with her accurate knowledge of Herr von Poseneck's life, and it seemed to him excessively strange that she should be so well informed concerning a man whom, according to her own declaration, she had seen but twice. This contradiction struck the Freiherr also, and he expressed his surprise at it, but Lucie only smiled and replied, "Oh, I have a private source of information which I know just how far to trust. I do not mean to describe Herr von Poseneck as an actual angel in beard and moustache, but he certainly is a charming fellow, whom you, Herr Baron, would especially like if you only knew him, as I sincerely wish you did."
Celia grew crimson at this reply, but, fortunately, no one save Lucie noticed this. The old Freiherr shook his head and declared that he felt "no desire to know any Poseneck," but, nevertheless, it was plain to be seen that Lucie by her persistency had aroused in him a species of interest, and finally one evening, when she had been recounting some of Kurt's war adventures in America, he remarked that that Poseneck must be a brave fellow since he had attained the rank of major so soon.
Arno was not so easily cured of his prejudice against Kurt, Lucie's constant reference to whom was utterly inexplicable, and at times roused within him the bitterest jealousy. He was worried and anxious, too, with regard to Werner, from whom nothing was heard after his departure. Whether the Finanzrath were really in Dresden neither his father nor his brother knew, and when Arno at times saw accounts in the newspapers of the arrest of persons suspected of being agents of the French government here and there in Germany, he could not but fear lest a like fate might overtake Werner, and he knew that such a disgrace would crush his father to the earth.
On one of the last days in July an unusual crowd thronged the platform of the railway station of A----, looking eagerly for the train, in which, so crowded was it sure to be at this time with troops, it was difficult for civilians to find places. On this particular occasion there were only three passengers for A----, and these had been obliged to content themselves with places in a baggage-wagon, every carriage being crowded with troops in process of transportation. As soon as these three stepped upon the platform they were besieged with questions of all kinds from the throng of men waiting there,--questions which seemed especially annoying to one of the three, an apparently choleric, elderly gentleman, who elbowed his way right and left through the crowd, now and then giving vent to his irritation in a good round oath, as he declared, "I know nothing and care less!" and all the while evidently on the lookout for some one whom at first he could not find.
At length his face cleared. "Hollo, Assessor!" he called; and then, with another struggle to clear himself of importunate questioners, "Deuce take you all!" he exclaimed, "I have something better to do than to answer every fool's questions!"
The people about him grumbled, but perceiving that there was no satisfaction to be gained from him, turned their attention to the other two passengers, and the elderly man was left to pursue his way successfully to where the Assessor von Hahn stood awaiting him. "Here I am at last!" he said, holding out to him the hand unencumbered by his travelling-bag. "I have been trying to get to you for the last three days, but not even standing-room could I find in the railway-trains, which are nothing but military transports. I had to pay an enormous price to-day for a place in a baggage-wagon."
The two men were now quite clear of the crowd, and the Assessor shook the new-comer cordially by the hand. "I am rejoiced to see you!" he said. "You know how entirely I am at your service, Herr----"
"Fernheim!" the stranger interrupted him before he could pronounce the name.
"Fernheim? Really, I do not know----"
"Call me Fernheim. It is as good a name as any other," the stranger said, in a tone only to be heard by the Assessor. "I do not wish these curious people to know who I am, or what I want. The news of my coming might else reach Castle Hohenwald sooner than I desire that it should."
"You are right, Herr Fernheim. I never thought of it; but you are right, you were perhaps in more danger than you thought. Do you know by sight the Finanzrath von Hohenwald or Count Repuin?"
"No, I have no knowledge of the scoundrels!"
"Then you do not know that they were your fellow-passengers in the train?"
"Not an idea of it. But thanks for the information. I shall know them again when I see them. The bearded fellow is the Russian of course. Pity that Sorr is not with them; the noble trio would then be complete."
"He is not here."
"I know that; I am familiar enough with the rascal's face. I suppose those two precious rogues are bound for the castle, so the sooner we are on our way there the better. You have kept your promise, Herr Assessor, to prepare everything for a visit to Hohenwald?"
"Of course; I have awaited you at every train since I received your despatch. The carriage is here to take you instantly to Grünhagen, Herr----"
"Fernheim. Do not forget the name. And no one in Hohenwald suspects my arrival?"
"No one."
"A thousand thanks, Herr Assessor. We will leave instantly, since so much depends upon our arriving before those two worthy gentlemen." And preceded by the Assessor, he passed through the station-house, and getting into the carriage waiting for them, they were well on their way before the Finanzrath and Count Repuin had extricated themselves from the crowd of eager inquirers on the platform.
The Finanzrath had good reasons for answering all questioners civilly, here so near his home, where there was special need that he should preserve a character for patriotism. During the last few days several of his friends who had dared in Munich, Leipsic, and elsewhere to express unpatriotic sentiments had been roughly handled by the enraged populace. In fear, therefore, of a like fate, Werner judged it wisest to answer all questions with the greatest amiability, re-echoing bravely the curses of the French heard on all sides, and even his companion, Count Repuin, thought it prudent to follow his example.
The Finanzrath informed his hearers that war had been declared the day before; that Bismarck had announced this officially in the Reichstag, and that the enthusiasm in Berlin was boundless,--any amount of funds for the prosecution of the war would be voted unanimously. Werner bore his part admirably in the wild shouts of exultation that followed this intelligence, waving his hat with the foremost, hurrahing for Bismarck, and even adding his fine bass voice to the yelling rather than singing of "Die Wacht am Rhein," in which the enthusiasm of the mob culminated.
By degrees, however, the crowd dispersed, and the two men were left alone on the platform. "Low-lived canaille!" the Russian exclaimed, giving vent to his suppressed indignation. "I would have every scoundrel of them well thrashed!"
"You do them too much honour, my dear Count, in allowing them to ruffle you!" Werner calmly rejoined. "Let them roar their 'Wacht am Rhein' as they please. I am annoyed only by Sorr's non-appearance. He cannot have arrived, as he is not awaiting us here."
"True, I had forgotten the rascal in the midst of their shouts; but you are right. Baron, he should have been here if he obeyed my commands and left for A---- two days ago. What can have happened to him?"
"Nothing; we have seen the difficulty that exists now in getting from one place to another. He will come by the next train,--but it is very unfortunate for me to have to wait here at the station. I am so well known in A---- that people will wonder why I do not go immediately to Castle Hohenwald."
"Unfortunately, there is no help for it."
"Why should not you await him here while I go on to Hohenwald alone?"
"Impossible; you know that I cannot appear at Hohenwald, and that Sorr must accompany you thither, since, if introduced there by you, his wife cannot refuse to give him a hearing. Then when he swears that he has broken off all connection with me, she cannot refuse to follow him, and should she, your father would refuse protection to a wife so false to her duty. Sorr will do as I say, swear what I dictate to him, and the result is certain."
"But what, after all, Count, can the result avail you? You know Frau von Sorr detests you. Will she not instantly return to Hohenwald when she finds that she has been deceived?"
"That is my affair, my dear friend," Count Repuin replied, with an ugly smile. "There are means to tame the wildest bird, and of those means I shall avail myself."
What means, the Finanzrath asked himself, would the Russian use to bend the young wife's will, to conquer her hatred of him? Brutal force spoke in the Count's words and gleamed in his treacherous eyes. And to such villainy he, Werner von Hohenwald, was lending himself!
A few days previously, in a burst of indignation at hearing that he had been denounced to the government, the Finanzrath, believing that Lucie had caused this, had revealed to the Russian the place of her retreat; now he bitterly repented having done so, and blushed for the part he was playing. He would gladly have warned her of the danger threatening her, but the ties that bound him to the Russian were of such a nature that he dared not provoke the man's resentment, and every precaution must be taken lest his suspicion should be aroused. With as easy an air as he could assume he said, "I suppose you will find means to attain your object, but I would advise you to take care. The lovely Frau von Sorr would, I imagine, hesitate at nothing if driven to extremes, and might appeal to the law. If I go on now to the castle I can prepare my father's mind for Sorr's visit, and insure his refusal to grant her his protection in case she should rebel against her husband's authority."
As he spoke Repuin eyed him with a contemptuous smile. "Counsel for counsel, my dear Baron," he replied, with a composure equal to Werner's. "Take care that I do not suspect your good faith towards me. In your delay in informing me of Frau von Sorr's whereabouts there has been quite enough to put me on my guard. I mistrust you. I will not have you going to Castle Hohenwald alone, nor will I permit you one word with Frau von Sorr, except in her husband's presence."
"Your suspicion is insulting, Count Repuin."
"You can allay it by making no attempt to provoke it. I do not wish to offend you; we are allies, and I desire that we may continue friends, but I swear to you that any obstacle laid by you in the way of my plans here, will transform me into your mortal foe. Candour for candour, then; is it to be peace or war between us?"
What could Werner reply? He had no choice. Lucie must be sacrificed to save himself. He adopted an aggrieved tone and answered, "I shall remain here until Sorr arrives, and upon your head be the consequences of your imprudence."
Several hours passed, and it was afternoon before Sorr arrived in a crowded train, in which he was the only civilian. During the last months he had greatly changed. There was in his appearance not a trace of the elegance that had formerly characterized it. His dress was neglected, his beard unshaven, his face bloated. He looked like a man given over to drink and debauchery.
When he emerged from the railway-carriage he looked eagerly about for the Count, whom he did not immediately perceive, but who greeted him upon his approach with the air of a master addressing his slave.
Sorr, however, interrupted the imperious commands of the Russian with, "One moment, Herr Count; I have most important news for both Baron von Hohenwald and yourself, which will doubtless affect your plans. We are betrayed! You as well as the Herr Finanzrath are not safe for a moment. Your arrest is already ordered; your intention to visit Castle Hohenwald is known, and it is there that you are to be arrested."
The Finanzrath turned pale and his voice trembled as he exclaimed, "I am warned from all sides; this news must be true!"
"It may still only be over-anxiety on the part of our friends," said Repuin. "Where did you get your information, Sorr?"
"From Herr von Waltershausen."
"Then we must indeed be upon our guard. By the infernal gods, this is danger! What else did Waltershausen tell you?"
"He has received trustworthy intelligence that Castle Hohenwald is to undergo a thorough search to-day. The Finanzrath von Hohenwald and Count Repuin, if they are found there, are positively to be arrested, the old Freiherr and his son Arno only in case circumstances require it. The prisoners are to be taken to Königstein. That the matter is considered of importance in Dresden and Berlin is shown by the fact that the arrests are to be made under the command of Count von Schlichting, colonel in the army, and formerly an intimate friend of the old Freiherr von Hohenwald. The notorious Geheimrath Steuber is associated with him in the search of the castle. When I went to the railway depot this morning, Count Schlichting was standing on the platform eagerly conversing with some officers. I was afraid that he was to come down by the very train in which Waltershausen had procured me a place, and he knows me. Waltershausen, who was with me, feared this too. He is extremely well acquainted with the Count, and no one suspects him of any connection with Count Repuin, so he did not hesitate to address Schlichting, who spoke to him without reserve of his plans.
"It appears that the colonel has been waiting since yesterday evening for the Berlin Chief of Police, the Geheimrath Steuber, and was determined that if he did not arrive by this afternoon he would take the train for A---- without him, and would make a requisition here for the military force needed to carry out his orders. Herr von Waltershausen enjoined it upon me to beg you both, gentlemen, not to delay an instant in escaping the threatened arrest. He is convinced, from matters being placed in charge of an officer so high in rank, that a court-martial will immediately ensue, and he is further convinced that there would be no hope for you under such circumstances at this juncture. Life and death are at stake, he bade me tell you!"
"He is right," the Finanzrath said, eagerly. "Let me conjure you. Count, to desist from your insane schemes, which may ruin us all. We can still save ourselves by flight into Hanover, where we can be concealed until we find means of getting to England. It would be madness to persist in going to Hohenwald."
Sorr's news had made Repuin anxious, but Werner's words enraged him. "No power in the world," he exclaimed, "shall force me to turn back when I have so nearly reached the goal of my desires! Yes, I will fly with you, but only if Frau von Sorr accompany us. And if by word or even by look you attempt to thwart me, look to yourself, Herr Finanzrath. I will not spare you if you refuse to fulfil your promise to me. I will not rest until you have reaped the harvest of your treachery if you fail me now."
"But how can our putting our heads into the trap at Castle Hohenwald aid you, Count?" Werner cried, in deep agitation.
"I do not ignore the danger," Repuin replied; "but I am determined to meet it, and have no doubt that we shall succeed in escaping it if you will stand by me. We still have several hours in which to act. Follow the plan that I will mark out for you, and to-night will see us in safety. As quickly as possible have at our disposal two vehicles and a trusty messenger on a good horse, and the rest is very simple. While you drive in one of these vehicles to the castle with Sorr, I will wait here at the station. I know Count Schlichting by sight, although he does not know me; it therefore cannot excite his attention for me to leave the platform as soon as he arrives and despatch the messenger to you at Hohenwald, while I get into the other carriage and drive to R----, where I will await you. Before Count Schlichting has obtained the military aid he requires I shall be miles from here and in perfect safety. You, in the mean time, will have time enough at the castle to explain matters to your father and to employ every means to induce Frau von Sorr to follow her husband, for not until you receive by my messenger the empty envelope, which is all I shall send, addressed to you, will there be any occasion for haste on your part, and even then it will be several hours before Schlichting with his dragoons can reach Hohenwald. Of course you will not return here with Sorr and the lady, but drive directly from the castle to Baron Kronburg's at R----, whence we will pursue our journey together. This is my plan; you must admit that it is simple and deals with certainties only, not probabilities. Are you agreed?"
Werner found some difficulty in replying. "It would be much more prudent," he said, "to fly at once; but if Herr von Sorr consents----"
"Herr von Sorr must consent. His opinion is not asked; all I wish is to know yours."
Sorr seemed not to hear the insulting words. "I shall do just as you please," he said, with the air of a slave before his master.
Repuin hailed Werner's compliance with a triumphant smile. "You never shall regret your amiable readiness to further my plan," he said; "but now to action! We must be prompt!"
Matters were soon arranged according to the Russian's directions. Werner, with his companion, drove off towards Castle Hohenwald, leaving a trusty messenger, who had formerly been an inspector on the Hohenwald estate, and a second carriage at the disposal of the Russian, who took his stand upon the railway platform to await the next train from L----.
He supposed that several hours would elapse before its arrival; but here he was mistaken,--it made its appearance much earlier than he had expected, and as it rolled slowly into the station Repuin recognized in one of the carriages Count Schlichting in earnest conversation with Count Styrum. This startled the Russian, and he feared instant recognition; but Styrum was so absorbed in what Schlichting was saying that he did not look up until Repuin had left the platform. Before the guards had opened the doors of the railway-carriages the Russian had despatched his messenger to warn Werner at the castle, and was himself seated in the carriage he had retained for his own use, driving rapidly towards R----. An evil smile hovered about his lips as he reflected that he should shortly see the lovely Fran von Sorr again. He never doubted his power to bend her will to his, and, leaning back among the carriage-cushions, he resigned himself to pleasing dreams of the future.