As Egon rode by Lieschen's side along the road leading through the fields to the Oster meadows he was more light of heart than he could remember ever being before. She pointed out to him the various villages and farms in the neighbourhood of the castle, and his eyes, it is true, followed the direction of her extended riding-whip, but his attention was not given to the rather commonplace landscape; his interest was all for his charming companion. How pure and clear was the look in the dark-blue eyes raised so confidingly to his own! Her smile was frank and free, as she made no attempt to conceal her admiration of his courage and strength in subduing Soliman. She told him how delighted she was with his success, and how her heart had seemed fairly to stand still with terror when she saw him in such peril and by her fault.
Hernaïvefrankness, her open avowal of whatever filled her mind, enchanted Egon. He seemed to have entered a new world. The compliments and admiration which he had received from other girls as to his music, his singing, or some other of his accomplishments had always aroused the suspicion in his mind that such words were for the wealthy Egon von Ernau, uttered to flatter his vanity, to entrap him. But as he listened to Lieschen's artless talk he paid homage to the sincerity of this girlish nature, and was refreshed and cheered even by her words of reproof. His sensations were a surprise to himself: he thought he was indifferent alike to praise and blame, but here he was positively exulting in the admiration of a mere child.
"There are the Oster meadows!" Fritz called out from the summit of a low hill, which he had gained in advance of his companions.
Egon sighed; they had nearly reached the goal of their ride, and he would gladly have ridden thus through the lovely fields for hours.
"Is not the prospect from here charming?" Lieschen asked, when she with Egon had reached the eminence.
He had to answer her, and that he might do so he looked around him, although he would far rather have continued to gaze into his companion's lovely face. As if awaking from a dream, he saw before him a picturesque landscape,--a green extensive valley, through which wound the Oster, a small river, which, making its way among low, distant hills, was lost in the mighty chain of the Riesengebirge.
The rich meadows that bordered the Oster on either side presented an animated scene. On one hand the mowers were wielding their scythes, on another women, girls, and children were turning the hay with long rakes, while from some of the fields the piled hay-wagons, each drawn by four stout horses, were beginning their slow journey to the barns of Castle Osternau. All who were able to work were busy gathering in the plentiful hay-crop of the year, for there had been warning clouds in the west at sunset for two or three days, although hitherto they had fled before the dawn. They were massing now about the descending sun. The harvesters would occasionally cast an anxious glance towards the west, and then proceed with their labour with renewed zeal.
"Is not the prospect from here charming?" Lieschen had asked, and Egon replied, "Most charming!" giving utterance to his sincere conviction. At the moment the broad, smiling valley, with the silver river winding through it, seemed to him inexpressibly attractive; but the words had scarcely left his lips before he was aware that they were at variance with all his previous ideas and sentiments. He had never found anything to admire in peaceful, smiling valleys, they had always impressed him as the ideal of tedious, commonplace rusticity; he had turned for enjoyment to the wild grandeur of rocky mountain fastnesses, to the splendour of glacier and torrent. The more savage the aspect of nature the more beautiful it had seemed to him. When he had been caught in a mountain storm, the crashing of the thunder among the giant peaks and the vivid play of the lightning had quickened his pulses. What could make this simple landscape at which he was gazing with Lieschen seem so charming in his eyes? Had he undergone a transformation in the last few hours? Could it be that a warm, sunny ray from heaven had pierced his soul and made it sensitive to the charm of a simple scene from which he would but yesterday have turned in weary disgust? He had a sense of disgrace in the consciousness that he was so hopelessly given over to the influence of the moment. Yes, he was ashamed of thus belying all his former tastes just because----yes, because a pair of sparkling, girlish eyes were beholding with rapture the petty, commonplace scene before them,--yes, it suddenly grew to be commonplace and petty, the charm that had transfigured it was broken, the ray that had penetrated his soul was extinguished.
A horseman came galloping up the hill from the meadow. It was Herr Storting; he waved a greeting to Lieschen as he drew near, but as he drew up his horse beside Egon he exclaimed, in surprise, "Can it be possible, Herr Pigglewitch, that you are riding Soliman?"
"As you see," Egon replied, curtly, his good humour all gone.
"I see, but I do not understand. Why, even the Lieutenant does not venture to take that horse any distance from the castle, he only rides it in the fields just beyond the garden. Pardon my saying so, Fräulein Lieschen, but you have been wrong in exposing Herr Pigglewitch to a danger the extent of which he cannot understand, since he does not know Soliman's tricks and temper."
Before Lieschen could reply, Egon interposed, "Your reproof is administered to the wrong person, Herr Storting. I insisted on riding Soliman precisely because of his tricks and his temper. And now we know each other, Soliman and I, and he is afraid of me, not I of him. You need have no anxiety on my account."
Egon's words by no means satisfied Storting. "You must be a capital rider to have kept your seat upon Soliman until now, but the danger will not be over until the horse is back in his stall. I beg you to return at once, and at all events do not attempt to ride him down into the meadows. The brute shies terribly, when people are about he grows restless, and the least sudden movement, the lifting of a rake, the flutter of one of the women's white kerchiefs, or the merest trifle, will suffice to make him mad with terror. At such times no rider can control him or keep his seat."
But Egon only smiled. "Are you really so unruly, my poor Soliman?" he said, leaning forward and patting the beautiful creature's slender neck. "I could wish you would try your worst, that I might have the opportunity to convince you of a will stronger than your own."
"Foolhardy words," Storting said, sternly. "Again let me beg you to turn back. If you ride down to the meadows you run the risk of having Soliman plunge with you into the Oster. Such a ride would be suicidal."
"Your ugly word does not terrify me," Egon said. "I surely have a right over my own body, my own life. I need take counsel with none, if I choose to end the drama with a bullet in my heart or a wild ride. Come, Soliman, let us measure our strength together, and if you come off conqueror I shall not care; let the waters of the Oster do their worst."
A smart stroke of his riding-whip accompanied his last words. It had a fearful effect upon the fiery animal, who had scarcely yet been brought under his rider's perfect control. Soliman put back his ears and tore down the hill to the Oster meadows.
"My God! what madness!" Storting exclaimed, horror-struck. The colour faded from his sunburned cheek as he gazed after the rider, who was being carried directly towards the spot where the river was deepest and the current strongest. To the inspector the man's fate was sealed. How could the Candidate have dreamed of riding Soliman? It was a miracle that the fellow still kept his seat.
He not only kept his seat, but on the very brink of the river, when Storting was convinced that his doom was certain, the horse was pulled up on his haunches, his rider had mastered him. Storting could hardly believe his eyes. Was that wonderful rider sitting easily and as if unconscious of danger upon the fiery brute, now stamping the soft meadow soil with impatient hoofs, but held in rein by a hand of iron, the same ridiculous, awkward tutor whom he, Storting, had transformed to the likeness of humanity with a suit of his own clothes?
Lieschen too had been terrified for a moment, when Egon had driven Soliman wild by the stroke of his whip, but she did not share in Storting's forebodings; she had seen Soliman obey Egon's strength and skill, and she had entire confidence in them. Still there was a cloud upon her brow, and the gaze with which she followed the daring rider was scarcely one of approval. When she saw that the horse was stayed at the river's brink, she simply said, "Let us follow," and without another word rode quietly down into the meadows after Fritz, who had started off to overtake his admired tutor.
Egon awaited their approach. The swift gallop, the struggle with the furious horse, which again called into play all his force and skill, had quickly dispelled his sudden ill humour. He called out to Storting, "You see, Herr Storting, there really is no danger in my riding Soliman. The horse is far better than his reputation. He needs only to be kept firmly in rein, and then he obeys every pressure of the knee. The magnificent creature knows me now, and I will answer for it will not shy or run so long as he feels my hand upon his bridle. You see that your reproof was quite undeserved by Fräulein Lieschen. If the horse is really timid I will engage to cure him of it. Shall we not ride towards those people who are working so busily over there? Fräulein von Osternau has promised to be my teacher, and to instruct me in some of the elementary principles of agriculture, and I am eager to prove myself a docile, intelligent pupil. Make friends with me again, Herr Storting, you will not remain provoked with me for answering your kindly warning by a furious run of a moment or two?"
He held out his hand as he spoke to the inspector, who could not any longer maintain a show of irritation, although he was not quite satisfied, nor was Lieschen. Storting, however, took pains to conceal the remnant of his displeasure, and succeeded in doing so, but Lieschen made no attempt to hide the fact that she was seriously displeased with Herr Pigglewitch. She took her place again, it is true, beside him, but she answered his questions in monosyllables, and left it to Storting to give him any information with regard to the harvesting. His desire to receive the promised instruction from her was evident as they rode around the meadows, but when he turned to her with an inquiry she only replied, "Herr Storting will explain it to you." She could not be easy and friendly with him, for the last words he had spoken on the hill still resounded in her ears, and they had shocked her profoundly.
Lieschen's taciturnity had its effect upon Egon's recovered gayety; he ceased to ask questions, and scarcely bestowed a glance upon the harvesters. He forced himself to listen with an appearance of interest to Herr Storting's explanations, out of regard for the inspector, but the merry songs of the girls raking the hay struck harshly on his ears, he was tired of it all, and he was relieved when at the end of half an hour Lieschen announced that it was time to return home.
Herr Storting could not yet leave the harvest-field, Fritz galloped ahead to the castle, and thus Egon being left alone with Lieschen had an opportunity to ask her the cause of her sudden reserve; was she displeased, and why? he had not, he thought, given her cause to be so.
She looked gravely up at him, and said in surprise,--
"Do you not know why I am displeased? Have you no suspicion of how your wicked words shocked me? Yes, I am displeased. I cannot forgive you for sneering at what is most sacred. I told you so before today. You are not a good man, Herr Pigglewitch. You almost frighten me."
"What have I done or said to provoke such a reproof from you?" Egon asked, in dismay.
"You do not know? So much the worse. You do not even admit that what you said was wicked. Do you not remember what you said here upon the hill, yes, upon this very spot, just before you gave Soliman that stroke with your whip? You said you should not care if Soliman drowned you! yes, you declared that you had a right to take your own life!"
"And was that what displeased you? Have I not the right to end my miserable existence if it becomes too heavy a burden to be borne?"
"No, you have no right to do so, and it is a sin even to think of it!" Lieschen replied, her beautiful eyes lifted to Egon's in stern reproach. "Your words shocked me deeply. Is there any courage in putting an end by the act of an instant to an intolerable existence? It is cowardice, miserable cowardice, to turn and flee from the battle of life. I have heard pity bestowed upon those wretched men who in despair have taken their own lives; for my part I cannot help despising them, and I cannot understand how a man can find a word to say in defence of such cowardice."
What Lieschen said was neither novel nor clever, and yet her simple words made a deep impression upon Egon. He had lately read a learned essay upon the right of self-destruction, in which every conceivable argument was brought forward to prove that nothing save insanity could excuse the act, but the sapient disquisition had only provoked a smile as he read, while these few simple words of the young girl's staggered him in the views he had hitherto held. Involuntarily the image of the real Pigglewitch arose in his mind, he saw the ridiculous figure kneeling singing upon the green bank, then suddenly start up and leap into the water. He saw the wretched creature standing dripping before him, wringing his hands and entreating to have his miserable life ended for him, he was afraid to do it himself. Did it really require more courage to endure a sad existence than to end it with a pistol-bullet? Was it cowardice to flee from a blank, weary world? Lieschen felt contempt, not compassion, for a suicide. She did not know how her words fitted Egon's case. He could not look into her clear eyes, he was forced to cast down his own.
It was Egon's nature to be easily swayed by the impulse of the moment; thus it was with him now, as he said, after a short pause,--
"You judge harshly, very harshly, but perhaps justly. You can have no idea of how nearly your words touch me. I promise to reflect upon what you have said, and now I beg you not to be angry with me any longer. I cannot bear to have you look so gravely and disapprovingly at me. I will try never to shock you again by thoughtless words which may seem to you like a sneer at sacred things, but I beg you to have patience with me. You promised to be my teacher, and a teacher ought not to be impatient."
"Now you are making game of me again."
"No, I declare to you I am not jesting. What I said half in jest to you at dinner I now repeat in earnest. I am conscious to-day for the first time that the experience of my life has made me morbid. Regard me as a sick man, and when some word of mine shocks you, do not be angry, but tell me of it frankly, without reserve. Blame me, take me to task, and I shall be your debtor."
Lieschen looked at him rather dubiously. "I do not know what to think of you, Herr Pigglewitch," she replied, shaking her pretty head thoughtfully. "You change with every moment. When a little while ago you talked so wickedly and urged Soliman towards the river, I was afraid of you, and now you suddenly speak so sadly and gently that I almost have faith in you. But since you only ask that I should tell you what I think, without reserve, I can easily grant your request, I should do so whether or not, because I cannot help it."
Whilst Egon, with Lieschen and Fritz, was taking his ride to the Oster meadows, Herr von Osternau was pacing his room slowly to and fro.
From his window he had observed old Wenzel saddling Soliman, but he had naturally supposed that Albrecht had ordered the horse, and it never entered his mind that the fiery animal had been saddled for the Candidate, or he would have instantly put a stop to it. He was not aware of the true state of the case until the moment when Egon swung himself lightly into the saddle, and then remonstrance was useless. Involuntarily he had uttered an exclamation of dismay, which called Frau von Osternau to his side, and together they had looked on while Egon reduced Soliman to submission. Their horror was speedily transformed to admiration as they saw how firm was the rider's seat, how powerless were Soliman's leaps and plunges to do him any injury.
Not a word was exchanged between them until the riding-party had left the court-yard, when Herr von Osternau first gave utterance to his amazement:
"This surpasses belief. If I had not seen it with my own eyes I never could have believed that a mere Candidate, who one would have supposed had never been on horseback before, could ride Soliman, and ride him in such a fashion! The man is a riddle. If we were not sure from your old friend Kramser's letter that he is a Candidate, I should think it impossible. He is compounded of contradictions, he is never the same for a moment. When I saw him coming across the courtyard this morning I was fairly frightened by his ugliness, I called him a scarecrow, and so did Lieschen when she first saw him, he looked so inconceivably ridiculous and uncouth, but ten minutes had not passed before I changed my mind. As he sat there at the piano, playing in that inspired way, he seemed to me a divinely-gifted artist. He cannot be a mere ordinary Candidate. His carriage and air are those of one used to refined society, and the conventional habits of such society are acquired only by association. Remember his manner to Albrecht in the billiard-room. He demanded satisfaction just as any well-bred gentleman would have done, and received Albrecht's apology in the same way. He speaks English and French with an accent so admirable that he must have had the best instruction in those languages. It requires capital teachers and years of practice to attain such proficiency as he possesses in music, he plays billiards so well as almost to justify Albrecht's sneer about the professional gambler, and, finally, he has just shown himself a first-class horseman. No riding-master could have put Soliman more finely through his paces. The man is a perfect puzzle."
Herr von Osternau had begun to pace the room to and fro as he spoke. He paused and looked inquiringly at his wife. She nodded assent to what he said, and he went on: "The more I think of it the more incomprehensible it is to me that Kramser should have recommended to us just this sort of man, one who in no single particular corresponds to the description contained in Kramser's letter."
"I am quite as much puzzled as yourself," Frau von Osternau said, meekly.
"Go and get Kramser's letter; let us read it once more, and see if it can give us any explanation."
Frau von Osternau brought the letter from her desk and read it aloud to her husband:
"Most Respected Lady,--It has been to me an exceeding great joy that, after the lapse of so many years since the happy season of childhood, you still remember me, and honour me with the great confidence shown in your esteemed epistle. My heart swells with gratitude at the thought of having it in my power to be of service in any way to so highly honoured a lady.
"I have bestowed the gravest reflection upon the choice among my numerous scholars of one possessing the qualifications which you desire for the tutor of your amiable son.
"You ask for a young man possessing the education requisite to give primary instruction to a boy of six, and sufficiently proficient in music to be able to give lessons to your daughter of seventeen. You require, finally, that the young man shall be in no wise distinguished by beauty of person. Nay, you would on the contrary have him ungainly in outward appearance, that the Fräulein your daughter may find no attraction in the person of her preceptor.
"I sympathize fully with your maternal anxieties, and I have therefore, in this connection, carefully stricken from my list of pupils all those possessing goodly exteriors; of those who remain, all are indeed qualified as scholars to teach the rudiments of learning to a boy of six, but few, alas! are sufficiently proficient in music to give lessons on the piano to a lady. At last I have found one, formerly my favourite pupil, whom I can recommend to you, respected madam, in full confidence that he will prove a faithful servant to you, and a capable tutor for your son.
"The Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch possesses in the highest degree all the desired qualifications. He is of an ungainly exterior, but in his uncouth form there dwells a soul of great piety, strong in faith in the Lord. There are, indeed, deficiencies in his worldly attainments, but he knows quite enough for the instruction of a boy of six, and his musical capacity far excels that of any of my other pupils. He plays very well upon the piano, and the Lord has bestowed upon him the gift of song, his voice is clear and pleasing.
"Pigglewitch has been an usher in schools for three years, the last of which he has passed in a boys' school in Berlin, where, as I am assured by the principal, he has discharged his duties with diligence and zeal. Of all my pupils he, respected madam, is the one whom I can most earnestly recommend.
"I have written to Gottlieb Pigglewitch; he is only too glad to accept the honourable position offered him, upon the terms you propose, but he cannot enter upon its duties before the 6th of July, since he is not released from his present situation until July 3d. Should this arrangement meet your approval, respected madam, I beg you to write me to that effect, and the Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch will appear at Castle Osternau punctually upon the 6th of July.
"With grateful and respectful regard, yours to command,
"Kramser."
"Is there an imaginable contrast greater than that between your friend's recommendation and the reality?" asked Herr von Osternau when his wife had finished reading the letter. "His worldly knowledge ought to be deficient, but sufficient for the instruction of a child of six, yet he speaks French and English fluently. He ought to be awkward and ungainly, and nothing can be more easy and graceful than his air and carriage. And then his ugliness! Uncouth enough he was in that queer coat, but since he threw that aside he has become another being. I cannot understand your friend Kramser."
Frau von Osternau agreed with her husband. "You are right," she said, thoughtfully. "Neither can I understand him. When that young fellow's eyes flashed to-day as he confronted Albrecht, I thought him actually handsome, and I could not but admire him again just now as he rode out of the court-yard, keeping Soliman so perfectly in rein. It makes me very anxious. It would be terrible to have Lieschen admire him too. He offered to leave Castle Osternau rather than be a cause of dissension in our family. Suppose you----"
"Not a word more, Emma," her husband interrupted her. "After his dispute with Albrecht, in which he conducted himself with such absolute propriety, it would be a crying injustice to dismiss him. Did I not declare that he must remain until we had made trial of his capacity as Fritzchen's tutor?"
"But Lieschen? I have heard you say you should be glad to have Lieschen marry Albrecht. What if she should take a fancy to the Candidate?"
"No fear of that. The little witch has no idea of taking a fancy to any one, and as for the wish I may have expressed to you some time ago, I confess that I no longer cherish it. It arose from my desire to indemnify our cousin for the loss of the estate, but Lieschen's happiness is my first consideration, and I do not think Albrecht is the man to make a woman happy. He is wanting in force of character, he cannot forget his gay life in the capital, indeed I am afraid that he has continued it in his frequent visits to Berlin, and that he is in debt again. But why should we puzzle our brains with what the future has in store for us? I cannot deny that it is a disagreeable sensation, the not knowing what to think of this strange man, I wish we had some one else, even although much more awkward and uninstructed, for Fritz's tutor, but since we have him and have undertaken certain obligations with regard to him, they must be fulfilled. We must show him all the respect we would have Fritz feel for him, we must receive him into our domestic circle that he may feel at home here, but in the mean time we must observe him closely, and should he neglect his duty, or prove to be unfitted for his situation, we can, as we agreed to, part with him."
"But Lieschen?"
"Will take piano-lessons from him. Do not worry yourself unnecessarily; you can always superintend the girl's music-lessons if it will make you less anxious to do so, and can soon convince yourself that there is no danger for the child in Herr Pigglewitch."
Frau von Osternau was not so easy in her mind, but she did not contradict her husband, she only resolved to watch her daughter and the Candidate closely, not only during the music-lessons, but at all times when they were together. The idea of her child's entertaining any warmer feeling for Herr Pigglewitch than that which a pupil should have for a teacher was extremely distasteful to her. She was not reassured when, soon after the above conversation, she saw the riders return from their visit to the harvesters, and observed the gentle, happy smile with which Lieschen thanked the Candidate for the ready, easy aid which he lent her in dismounting. The mother imagined that she perceived a change in her unconscious child.
Fritz, who had preceded his sister and her cavalier, and had been seeing that his favourite pony was properly attended to, rushed into the room. He had a long story to tell his father and mother, first about the charms of his new tutor during the study-hour, and then of his wonderful riding. "Even Herr Storting grew pale when he saw Soliman tearing down to the Oster, but Herr Pigglewitch didn't care, he only laughed; ah, he knows how to ride! why, he rides better than even Cousin Albrecht!"
Fritz poured out his raptures over his new tutor, much to his father's delight, while Frau von Osternau's maternal anxiety was sensibly increased. She was hardly pleased when her husband sent old Hildebrandt to invite the Candidate to take tea with the family at eight o'clock, in the sitting-room; it seemed to her that it was too speedy a welcome to the domestic circle.
But her fears were appeased when Lieschen, having taken off her habit, made her appearance, and talked without reserve or embarrassment of her ride. The very fact of her expressing with perfect frankness her admiration for the fearless rider and his courage reassured her mother, and when the girl went on to give a faithful account of her conversation with the Candidate, and the rebuke she had administered to him for entertaining such wicked ideas with regard to suicide, her parents exchanged glances of entire satisfaction.
"Was I not right?" Herr von Osternau asked his wife, with a smile, and she nodded a pleased assent. Lieschen's freedom from all reserve had quite reassured her, although, as she repeated to herself, her fears had not been altogether groundless, since the girl's interest in the stranger was evident from her manner of speaking of him. Even when she blamed him there was an unwonted seriousness in her voice and manner, she really seemed to have suddenly grown older.
Egon appeared punctually at eight o'clock in accordance with his invitation, and immediately afterwards Albrecht arrived, not by any means pleased to find the Candidate installed as a member of the circle. His humour was not improved by hearing Herr von Osternau request the tutor to consider himself henceforth as one of the family, joining them at tea whenever he felt so inclined, without further invitation, a privilege hitherto enjoyed by the Lieutenant alone. The two other inspectors never appeared at the tea-table without being specially invited to do so.
In fact, Lieutenant von Osternau did not at all enjoy himself on this particular evening. Until now he had been the enlivening element of the little circle, he had, as it were, formed the centre of conversational interest, but he suddenly found himself superseded by the Candidate, who conducted himself with an easy assurance inconceivable in a man of his station, receiving Herr von Osternau's gracious advances as if they were a matter of course, and taking part in the conversation as though perfectly accustomed to intercourse with people of rank.
And yet, as the Lieutenant could not but admit to himself, the Candidate never thrust himself forward, never attempted to lead in the conversation. When it naturally turned upon his mastery of Soliman, he made no claim to any special bravery or skill, but smilingly put by all the compliments addressed to him, and skilfully changed the subject by remarking upon the interest he had felt in the harvesting, which had been to him so novel a spectacle. He thus gave Herr von Osternau an opportunity to expatiate upon his favourite theme.
When the lord of the castle was once fairly launched upon this subject he usually held forth at great length, but to-day, when Herr Pigglewitch mentioned the singing of the girls and men as they raked the hay, Herr von Osternau called to mind the praise given by Herr Kramser to Herr Pigglewitch's pleasing voice, and he suddenly closed his discourse by a request that the Candidate would gratify him with a song.
With ready amiability Egon went instantly to the piano, where he sang to his own accompaniment, and in a full, rich baritone, a simple Folksong:
"In Oden forest stands a treeWith branches fresh and green,Beneath its shade a thousand timesI with my love have been."
"In Oden forest stands a tree
With branches fresh and green,
Beneath its shade a thousand times
I with my love have been."
The Lieutenant observed, with positive rage in his heart, the effect which this song produced upon every member of the family. Frau von Osternau, who was busy at her tea-table, dropped her hands in her lap at the first notes, and listened intently, with eyes fixed upon the singer. Her husband sat leaning back in his arm-chair, scarcely daring to move, for fear of losing one delicious tone, while Lieschen bent forward in rapt delight with sparkling eyes and parted lips, and when the last sounds had died away, and Egon arose to take his place again beside her at the tea-table, she looked up at him with a dreamy, far-away expression in her dark eyes, which told how great had been her enjoyment, although she said not a word.
"Charming! Delicious!" Herr von Osternau exclaimed. "Thank you! thank you! I never heard that song so exquisitely sung. Every note came from the heart, and, of course, went straight to the heart. You understand, Herr Candidate, how to render our 'folksongs' with the simplicity that belongs to them, without any of our modern frippery hung about them."
Egon bowed slightly. Herr von Osternau's cordial enthusiasm was gratifying, but Lieschen's eyes, as she looked up at him, filled him with a delicious intoxication, which, however, quickly evaporated when the Lieutenant, feeling forced to repress his irritation, uttered a few commendatory phrases in order to display his appreciation of music. His praise sobered Egon at once. He would willingly have disclaimed it in a few sharp words, but he suppressed them out of regard for the master and mistress of the house. He was glad to have further discussion of his song interrupted by old Hildebrandt's entrance with the post-bag, which had just arrived from Station Mirbach.
"A letter for you already, Herr Pigglewitch," Herr von Osternau said, handing Egon an envelope.
Egon hesitated for a moment to take the letter which could not possibly be for him, but there was no help for it, and he laid it on the table before him.
"Read your letter, Herr Pigglewitch, you need not stand upon ceremony," Herr von Osternau continued, kindly. "Here in the country the advent of letters is quite another matter than the receiving them in town. We live here so secluded from the world that letters are all we have to connect us with it, and of course we wish to open our envelopes as soon as they are brought to us. The post-bag comes in at this time every evening, and each of us instantly opens and reads whatever it brings him or her,--the contents often give us matter for discussion and conversation. So pray read your letter, I will set you an example by opening mine, whilst my wife, Lieschen, and Cousin Albrecht look through the papers and journals."
He broke the seal of his letter as he spoke, and became instantly so absorbed in its contents that he did not observe that Egon thrust the one addressed to Herr Pigglewitch into his breast-pocket without opening it.
Herr von Osternau's letter was very long, and it took him some time to read it through. Meanwhile there was a pause in the conversation around the tea-table. Frau von Osternau and the Lieutenant were busy with the newspapers, and Lieschen turned over the leaves of a journal, without, however, reading a word; she could not fix her attention, the melody of the song she had just heard so rang in her ears.
"A very odd, disagreeable letter from your uncle Sastrow," Herr von Osternau said, after a long pause, turning to his wife. "He wishes us to invite Bertha von Massenburg to pay a long visit at Castle Osternau, and I cannot very well see how we can help complying with his wish."
Egon, who had been reflecting for the last few minutes upon what was to be done with Gottlieb Pigglewitch's letter, started from his revery as the name of Bertha von Massenburg struck upon his ear. He turned, with an interest he could hardly conceal, to Herr von Osternau, who went on:
"Very unpleasant things have been happening in Berlin, things that concern us, although not very nearly: still we are distantly related to the Massenburgs, and Sastrow reckons upon the relationship. Bertha should be withdrawn from public attention and the gossip of the capital for a considerable time, your uncle says, and he thinks her best asylum would be with us; wherefore he begs me to send her an invitation at his house as soon as possible."
"What has happened?" asked his wife.
"Oh, 'tis a very ugly kind of story. I had better read you Sastrow's letter: 'My dear Fritz----'"
Egon rose as Herr von Osternau began reading the letter aloud. However great his curiosity might be, he could not but remind Herr von Osternau that there was a stranger present who had no right to a knowledge of private family affairs. He was about to withdraw, but Herr von Osternau kindly signed to him to sit down again.
"I appreciate your delicacy, Herr Pigglewitch, but I pray you to remain. This letter does, to be sure, contain a very unpleasant bit of family scandal, but it is unfortunately no secret. At the present time, when distance is annihilated, Berlin gossip spreads far and wide in an incredibly short space of time. If Bertha von Massenburg comes to us, the scandal of which she is the innocent subject will follow her very shortly; all our neighbours will know everything about Bertha and her unfortunate betrothal, and it will be hard to separate truth from falsehood. So it is better that you should know the truth from a trustworthy source, especially as she stands in a certain relationship to our family. You can then aid to the best of your ability in putting a stop to idle gossip; therefore I would rather you should hear the letter.
"My Dear Fritz,--There must, of course, be some important reason for my sitting here in the middle of the night writing you a lengthy epistle which must be sent to the post at dawn, that you may receive it tomorrow evening. This reason consists in my great desire to avert as far as is possible the consequences of a most unpleasant family affair. I will be as brief as possible; of course our cousin Werner von Massenburg is at the bottom of it; who other of the family could provoke a scandal?
"You have lost money enough by the man to know him well, although perhaps not so thoroughly as I know him. Of course he is always in pecuniary difficulties, but even I, poor as is my opinion of him, should not have suspected him of attempting to relieve himself of his debts by selling his daughter,--the expression is not too strong,--and this is just what he has done.
"About two weeks ago Werner came to me and informed me that he was about to betroth Bertha to a distinguished young fellow, Egon von Ernau, the son of the Privy Councillor von Ernau. The affair had been concluded with the young man's father, who declared that his son was nothing loath. All that remained to be done was to bring the young people together that the betrothal might take place in the usual way, since it could not very well be announced before they had even seen each other. He therefore begged me to invite Bertha to pay us a visit; he would introduce young Ernau to us, and everything could be speedily arranged.
"When I expressed my great disapproval of a marriage thus contracted, he went on to explain that it was a matter of life and death to him. His old friend the Privy Councillor Ernau had promised to liquidate all his debts in case the recent patent of nobility of the Ernaus should receive the aristocratic veneer which would be given it by a union with the old knightly line of the Massenburgs. He was so persistent in his entreaties that at last I consented, although sorely against my better judgment, and wrote to Königsberg, inviting Bertha to exchange for a while her aunt Massenburg's home in Königsberg for our house in Berlin. By return of post I received a charming letter from Bertha accepting my invitation, and she arrived here yesterday.
"After writing to Bertha, I thought it my duty to inform myself with regard to our future connections the Ernaus. What I learned of them was by no means reassuring. Privy Councillor von Ernau is, it is true, immensely wealthy, the head of an extensive banking business, his reputation for honesty and business capacity has never been even breathed upon, but he is the most insufferably self-important, conceited fellow, who never loses an opportunity of seeing his name in the papers, so great is his love of notoriety. He keeps open house, and poses as a patron of art and science without having a conception of either. He keeps a racing stud, although he is no horseman; and he contributes vast sums for political purposes, without the faintest real interest in politics. Only let his name appear in the papers and he is content, no sacrifice is too great to make to his vanity.
"What I could gather concerning the son is scarcely any better. It is generally conceded that Herr Egon von Ernau is a very talented young fellow, but that he abuses most frivolously the brilliant gifts bestowed upon him by nature. He studied and passed brilliant examinations, without turning his knowledge to any account. He has inherited from his father--with whom, moreover, he is on terms of no intimacy, father and son sometimes not meeting for weeks--an enormous stock of vanity, which, however, he shows after an entirely different fashion. It is his pleasure to pay no heed whatever to the opinion of the world, to appear alike indifferent to praise and to blame, to attach no importance to worldly honours. He has drained to the dregs every pleasure, every delight that wealth can give, and he is to the last degreeblasé. In the assurance of his own superiority he despises all other men and treats them accordingly. He is a man of talent but of no character, and he utterly lacks balance and self-control.
"It is easy to see that such a man is not calculated to make a wife happy; therefore I thought it my duty, before the affair was finally decided, to talk seriously to Massenburg, but it was too late; he could not withdraw, even had he desired to do so. He had made binding promises to Councillor Ernau; the betrothal, if not actually announced, was known everywhere. The Councillor had informed his friends on 'Change that the betrothal of his son Egon to the noble Fräulein Bertha von Massenburg was shortly to be celebrated by a grand entertainment, and Werner himself had been so imprudent as to admit this when questioned upon the subject. The betrothal was already an open secret, much discussed among the aristocracy of money as well as of blood. There was pity expressed for the poor girl who was to be sacrificed to a vain, heartlessroué. There were various remarks made at the club in Werner's hearing with regard to the burnishing of an aristocratic scutcheon with money gained in trade, but he was firm in his resolve. The effect of all this gossip was to induce him to hurry as much as possible the public announcement of the betrothal. It was arranged by the two fathers that Herr Egon von Ernau should pay his first visit here yesterday and should be invited by me to an evening party. So soon as the young people had fairly met, there was to be a large garden-party at the Councillor's villa, and the betrothal was to be formally announced.
"It was very distasteful to me, of course, to lend myself to what was to bring about a connection which I considered so undesirable, but I was forced to consent to what was asked of me. I did so, however, only upon condition that I should be allowed immediately after Bertha's arrival to lay before her the true state of affairs. Should she decline then to accede to her father's schemes, I declared that no force should be put upon her beneath my roof. I would then refuse to receive young Ernau.
"Early yesterday morning (the express train from Königsberg arrives in Berlin at six o'clock) I went to the railway-station to meet Bertha. I did not recognize her when she first stepped out on the platform. I had not seen her for several years, and she had grown from a pretty little school-girl into an elegant young lady. She, however, instantly recognized me, rushed into my arms, calling me 'dearest cousin,' and was so charming and amiable that she won my heart at once. All the more did I hold it to be my duty to warn her against the wretched scheme.
"I did so as we drove home from the station. We were alone, and I had plenty of time to explain matters thoroughly.
"To my exceeding surprise, I found that she showed no distaste whatever for the union forced upon her, she had without hesitation written to her father that she was quite ready to bestow her hand upon Herr von Ernau. Even my unflattering portrait of the young man did not make her waver in her resolve. With a degree of cool equanimity which seemed unnatural in so young a girl, she explained that the faults which I attributed to Herr von Ernau were common to all wealthy young men who had lived fast, and that she was not at all shocked by them. Certainly, from all she could hear, she judged young Ernau to be a man of honour, very clever, and withal extremely rich, wherefore she was quite willing to forgive him some small faults of which he would probably be cured in the course of time. She had lived a life of weary dependence with her aunt Massenburg and longed for freedom. She should not have refused to marry even a less distinguished suitor than Herr von Ernau, to be relieved from the cheerless existence she had been leading.
"After the cordiality and affection with which Bertha had greeted me, I was entirely unprepared to find her so coolly calculating. I told her so, and she replied with a smile that she was too old--she is just nineteen--to be deceived by any illusions as to 'love's young dream,' that the place to seek such was in popular romances; in real life a poor girl of rank must learn to be practical and to take reason for her guide. No better match could be found than the one her father had provided for her, and since she had no fancy for being an old maid, she certainly should not commit the folly of rejecting such good fortune.
"Much disappointed, I dropped the subject; the girl no longer appeared so charming to me. Her wonderful self-possession, her cool calculation, made a very disagreeable impression upon me, but this vanished when I spoke to her of her father. She was so frankly rejoiced to relieve him from his embarrassments, to restore to him the possession of his ancestral estate, and she expressed her joy so warmly and with so much love for her father, that I was quite reconciled to her again. And it was just so with my wife. Bertha took her heart by storm. During breakfast, when the Ernaus were discussed, she was as displeased as I had been by Bertha's cynicism, but her displeasure was only transitory. The girl soon conquered her again by her amiability.
"I really dreaded Egon von Ernau's visit. Werner had informed me that the young man would make his appearance about twelve, but he did not come. Hours passed, and at four o'clock Werner appeared in his stead. Bertha rushed into his arms, she was bewitching in her delight at seeing her father again; indeed, she was like some artless, lovely child in her tender, caressing ways with her father.
"You know Werner, he neither deserves nor appreciates such affection. I really think he cares more for a fine race-horse than for his charming daughter, whose caresses evidently annoyed him. He endured without returning them, only bestowing a cold kiss upon Bertha's cheek, and immediately desiring to see me in private.
"As soon as we were alone in my library the tempest, the signs of which I had already seen in his face, burst forth, he raged and swore, talked of putting a bullet through his brains; and some time elapsed before he was sufficiently calm to explain to me the cause of his anger.
"His affairs certainly looked black enough. The son-in-law of his desires had disappeared, thus destroying the scheme upon which all Werner's hopes had been based.
"The Privy Councillor von Ernau had risen, according to his wont, at eight in the morning, and, not at all according to his wont, had been desirous of breakfasting with his son, that he might consult him with regard to the arrangements for the celebration of his betrothal. He therefore sent to desire his son to come to him. The servant sent returned in a few minutes with Egon's man, who explained that his master had not returned home at all on the previous night, his bed was untouched, and upon his writing-table a letter had been found, addressed to his father, in his handwriting. This letter was handed to the Privy Councillor. He broke the seal, as he himself stated, with a trembling hand, but this last is doubtful. The letter contained only the words 'Farewell! E. von E.'
"'He has destroyed himself!' was the father's exclamation, as he hastened to Egon's rooms in company with the servant, and searched them through in hopes of finding some scrap of writing that might allay his apprehensions, but in vain. His first words seemed the only true explanation of his son's disappearance.
"Egon could not have left town for a journey, his servant had received no directions to prepare for a trip, and the young man's clothes were undisturbed, none were missing save those which he wore when last seen. A costly revolver, a favourite weapon of Egon's, was not to be found. Everything strengthened the Privy Councillor in the belief that his son had committed suicide. He had hitherto taken but a languid interest in his son, he had often indeed passed weeks without seeing him, although the same roof sheltered both; now the Privy Councillor suddenly assumed the part of a tender, agonized parent. He burst into loud lamentations over the terrible fate of his beloved son, he reproached himself for having driven him to put an end to himself. Nothing but despair at being forced to marry a girl whom he did not love could have driven Egon to such a horrible deed.
"These lamentations were publicly made, and by them Herr von Ernau attained a vast notoriety. He was quite given over to therôleof tender, agonized parent. He played it before his servants at home and the clerks in his counting-room. In vain they all tried to soothe him, to represent that there was as yet no proof that his terrible suspicion was correct; in vain did his cashier declare that if Herr Egon had contemplated suicide he would not have drawn, as he had done the day before, twenty thousand marks from the bank. The Privy Councillor insisted that his son had shot himself, the drawing of the twenty thousand marks was an additional proof of the deed. Egon had wished to pay everything that he owed before his death, and had drawn the money for this purpose.
"Werner von Massenburg believed that the Councillor's loud lamentations were all dictated by his vanity, which was always urging him to seek notoriety at any price. At nine o'clock he had ordered his carriage and was driving about among all his intimate friends and acquaintances enacting the same scene over and over again, and declaring that the wretched proposed betrothal had driven Egon to despair. By noon the universal topic on 'Change was young Ernau's suicide and its cause, and the story flew like wildfire all through the town. An hour previously it had reached Werner, and he had hurried to the Councillor, with whom he had gone through a terrible scene. The Councillor, in his false, theatrical fashion, had cursed the unfortunate projected betrothal, and had heaped reproaches upon Werner, who, of course, was not slow in retaliating, until at last Ernau vowed angrily that if the faint hope that still existed should prove a certainty, and Egon be found to be alive, the hated betrothal should never take place.
"This was the sum of Werner's incoherent narrative. He cursed the Ernaus, father and son, and in his utter selfishness even found fault with Bertha for bringing him into this frightful difficulty by a too ready acquiescence in his plans. She must be completely compromised by the scandal, which was now known all over the town, and in a few days society would cast scorn upon the names of Massenburg and Ernau, and the wildest exaggerations of the story of Egon's suicide would be told everywhere.
"I tried to soothe Werner, but with small success. He left me at last with the task upon my hands of informing Bertha of what had occurred.
"This was unpleasant enough, but the girl made it as easy for me as possible. She listened to my account with great composure, only expressing her sorrow that her poor father should be disappointed in his dearest hopes. When my wife spoke indignantly of young Ernau, she shrugged her shoulders. 'I am sorry for him,' she said, in a tone expressive of quite as much scorn as pity; 'he is evidently one of those unfortunate men who, bred in the lap of luxury, have lost all force of character, all capacity to shape their destiny. He is certainly more to be pitied than blamed for shuffling off his life like a coward instead of opposing his father's schemes like a man.'
"I was glad that she so easily acquiesced in the inevitable, and I hoped that Werner's fear lest her reputation should suffer from what had occurred would prove groundless. To-day has, unfortunately, convinced me of the contrary.
"The scandal is full-blown. The whole story is talked of everywhere, and one of the morning papers tells it in detail, with all sorts of additions. It is hinted that Herr Egon von Ernau is the victim of a low money speculation on the part of a family of rank. Fräulein Bertha von Massenburg knew that he was in love with a girl of the middle class, but would not withdraw her pretensions because she did not choose to lose a wealthyparti. The young man had been led, by his love for his father, into giving his consent to the betrothal, in hopes that Fräulein von Massenburg would reject his hand when she learned that he loved another. Disappointed in this hope, he had recourse to his revolver.
"Although everybody knows how perfectly untrustworthy are these romantic tales conceived in the brain of some newspaper reporter, everybody believes them, as I have, alas! seen only too clearly during the past day. In the course of it my wife has had more visits than she has received for weeks from friends and acquaintances of every degree of intimacy, and she is in despair over the expressions of commiseration and the curious inquiries concerning private family affairs to which she has been compelled to listen. These visits have so unnerved her that I have been forced to forbid the admission of visitors to the house for some days to come.
"This is only the beginning of the annoyance. The newspapers will all shortly have their various versions of the affair. Instead of pitying the poor girl, as people would have done a few days ago for being sacrificed to aroué, all now condemn her, and lavish their compassion on the poor fellow who was tormented into putting an end to a life so full of promise.
"Under these circumstances Bertha cannot remain in Berlin. Her stay here would be intolerable, both for her and for my poor wife. Neither can her aunt Massenburg recall her to Königsberg, where gossip would inevitably pursue her and be more rife in the provincial town than in the capital. Moreover, Aunt Massenburg is, as you know, a person of such very strict ideas that it is doubtful whether she will ever again receive beneath her roof a girl so talked about.
"In our need we have thought of you, dear Fritz. You are, through your wife, related to poor Bertha, and you must give her an asylum in your house until the storm has blown over. After a few weeks, at most after a few months, no one will remember that there ever was an Egon von Ernau. We live quickly, and forget as quickly, at the present day.
"So I entreat you to invite Bertha to pay a long visit to Castle Osternau. I know that I ask you to make a sacrifice in granting my request. Malicious gossip may follow Bertha even to the depths of the country and cause you annoyance, but I know you well enough to be sure that you will not on that account hesitate to do such a kindness. Nothing can so surely tend to re-establish Bertha's reputation in public opinion as the knowledge that she is the guest of a family so highly esteemed as your own.
"And now farewell. My warm regards to your excellent wife. Do not let her be vexed with her old uncle for asking so great a service at your hands. Write soon to yours faithfully,
"Sastrow."