Bertha Von Wangen was seated at breakfast on the balcony. She had risen quite early to enjoy the dewy freshness of the morning which had followed the storm of the night before, and Elise and Clara were her companions. The lady of the mansion was not fond of solitude, and, moreover, she was desirous of knowing how her guest had passed the night. For this purpose she had sent her maid to question Fräulein Lieschen in the blue room an hour previously, but Elise was no longer there,--she had resigned her post to a maid so soon as her patient's quiet, regular breathing showed that he was sleeping naturally. Thus, while Elise now poured out the coffee, she replied to Bertha's inquiries as to how the night had been passed; Wangen, meanwhile, pacing the garden-walk below, within hearing, with his cigar. He disappeared, however, when the physician from Ostrowko was announced, and Elise eagerly awaited his return, although from fear of Bertha's spiteful observations she suppressed all show of anxiety in her face or manner.
Nor was Bertha herself so easy and careless as she would fain have appeared while waiting for the verdict of the doctor. As, years before, she had striven at Castle Osternau to manifest none of the interest excited in her mind and heart by the tutor, so now she feigned indifference with regard to his state, and spoke of the obligation of receiving a man of Pigglewitch's condition beneath her roof as a burdensome duty, hoped the "poor creature would soon be able to pursue his journey," and twitted Elise with the eager philanthropy which had led her to transgress the bounds of strict propriety. But here Clara, with her ready championship, interfered, and, embracing her dearest Elise, rather stormily declared that everything that she did was "good, and kind, and perfect."
In fact, the mistress of Hugo von Wangen's heart and home had by no means forgotten the Candidate of former days, or the interest with which he had inspired her. Her life, so different from any which she had imagined and hoped for in her girlish dreams, bored her from morning until night. No children had appeared to bless her loveless marriage, and, perhaps, to open their mother's heart to nobler aspirations and a higher ideal of duty. She was entirely unable, from the intrinsic shallowness of her nature, to appreciate her husband's nobler qualities or his intense chivalric devotion to herself. She was idle and weary, and her empty mind and heart were ready to welcome any unworthy passion that could bring them amusement and occupation. The image of the enigmatical tutor of Castle Osternau arose before her invested with a thousand attractions, and she actually felt envious of Elise who had been able to watch beside him. Yes, the girl was always in her way.
The doctor stayed but a few minutes in the blue room. Bertha distinctly heard his footsteps descending the stairs, and his only, so her husband must have remained with the Candidate. Why had the physician left so soon? Had he come too late then? She was possessed by a feverish anxiety, she longed to run out into the corridor and question him; but no, Elise must not suspect her of eagerness to hear his verdict. She was doomed always to be forced to feign before Elise.
At last, after some minutes, which seemed to her hours, Wangen entered the room; one look at his face was enough to show that he brought no bad news, and she sank back negligently in the arm-chair from which she had half sprung up to meet him.
Hugo advanced with a beaming smile; his first glance was for his wife, but she was evidently so uninterested in what he had to say that he turned to Elise, whose eager eyes showed the depth of her anxiety. He nodded kindly to her:
"Good news, Fräulein Lieschen: your patient is all right. He awoke perfectly conscious, and the doctor says his wound is nothing to signify. He has had a wonderful escape, and is now dressing, in hopes of presenting himself to the ladies in half an hour, with a bandage about his head, to be sure, but scarcely enough of an invalid to make himself interesting on that score."
Elise flushed crimson, and her eyes were suffused for a moment; she said nothing, but her joy and relief were so evident that Clara loudly expressed her sympathy:
"Now all is well once more, darling Elise, and you will not cry, as you were doing this morning when Bertha sent for you."
"No, no need for tears," Wangen said, gaily; but he grew grave as he turned to his wife with, "I bring you a special message, Bertha, from our guest. He asks permission to present himself to you, to thank you for the hospitality which he has received beneath our roof. He requested me to announce his visit to you."
"I really do not consider a visit from Herr Pigglewitch of such importance as to need a special announcement," Bertha made reply. "The man has evidently not lost the good opinion which he formerly entertained of himself."
"But in this instance there is some reason why you should be prepared for a visit which else might have surprised you not quite agreeably. Herr Pigglewitch wishes to present himself to you without the mask which he wore at Castle Osternau, as his true self and our future neighbour, Herr Egon von Ernau."
"It is he then? Ah, I knew it, I knew it!" Elise exclaimed, involuntarily.
The effect produced upon Bertha by the name of Ernau was magical. She lost entirely her hardly-won self-control, and, starting up, gazed alternately at her husband and at Elise with eyes aflame.
"You knew it? You were his confidante, and leagued with him against me?" she cried, her voice trembling with anger.
"No, Bertha; how can you even imagine such a thing?" Elise calmly replied. "He never uttered a word to me in confidence; but once, when we were alone, and I had distinctly expressed my low estimation of Herr von Ernau, he reproved me for my harsh judgment, and as he went on to explain how Herr von Ernau might have suffered from evil influences, he spoke so from his heart that I suspected he was defending himself, and not another. Then, when he left us and Herr von Ernau suddenly reappeared in Berlin, I suspected still more strongly who my teacher had been. I never revealed this by a word, not even to my father and mother; I had no right to betray his secret so long as he guarded it himself, but for me it was a secret no longer."
"You knew yesterday evening then that we had Herr von Ernau beneath our roof? Ah, now I understand your eagerness to tend and nurse the wounded man."
"Dear Bertha, how unkind, how unjust you are!" her husband said, reproachfully.
"Of course you think me unjust, and Elise the model of all sweetness and compassion. She could have had no interested motives. The poor Candidate and the wealthy Egon von Ernau were alike to her."
"I have given you no reason, Bertha, to speak thus insultingly. Let me go to my room until you are able to compose yourself and think better and more justly of me."
"Oh, you will not be allowed to stay there long; you will speedily be summoned to receive the acknowledgments of your grateful patient. Clara can be his Mercury."
"Clara will come with me, and I shall stay in my room so long as Herr von Ernau remains at Linau. Since I make it a special request, I am sure that you, Herr von Wangen, will not mention my presence beneath your roof. I pray you promise me this."
"But, Fräulein Lieschen----"
"I can take no refusal to give me this promise. It is the only way in which you can atone for Bertha's unworthy suspicions. Come, Clara, you will surely obey me?"
"Indeed I will--go with you and stay with you, my dearest Elise!" the girl exclaimed, impetuously. "I see how Bertha hates you, but I will love you all the more." She took Elise's hand and drew her gently towards the door, casting an indignant glance at her sister-in-law as she passed her.
Wangen had been moving restlessly about the room while his wife and Elise had been speaking. Every word of Bertha's cut him to the heart. He could not but sympathize in Clara's honest indignation, and the vague consciousness that he was taking part against the wife whom he so adored made him miserable. "I did not think you could be so unkind," he said, sadly, when he and Bertha were left alone in the room.
Bertha heard his words, but she did not heed them; her eyes were bent thoughtfully upon the floor. Suddenly raising them, she said, "Did you tell Herr von Ernau that Elise is here?"
"No, I forgot to. I was so amazed to find him perfectly conscious, and then to hear him declare himself Egon von Ernau, that I never thought of Elise during our short conversation."
"You need not excuse yourself, dearest Hugo, you were perfectly right. Ernau must not know that Elise is here. If he is to fall a victim to her snares, it must not be beneath our roof. Oh, I suspected her air of unconscious innocence long ago! How craftily she has plotted to compass her ends! I never dreamed that it was for the wealthy Egon von Ernau that she was casting her nets four years ago. I thought her enamoured of the poor Candidate. Her exclamation just now opened my eyes. Now I understand why, knowing that Plagnitz was so near us, she instantly consented, greatly to my surprise, to come to us as Clara's governess. Oh, I have been blind! but now that I see it all, her schemes shall be foiled!"
Wangen had listened in growing distress to his wife's voluble accusations of Elise. For the first time since his marriage the glow upon Bertha's cheek, the angry light in her fine eyes inspired him with anything save admiration, although he was too good-humoured to be seriously provoked with her. "I cannot comprehend you, my dearest," he said, sadly. "How can you give rein to such unkind fancies?"
"They are not fancies," Bertha insisted, with vehemence. "Your good nature blinds you, but you must be made to perceive the truth. Elise shall not attain her ends, however. I owe it to poor Herr von Ernau to save him from this Circe. You and I wronged him deeply years ago. We will atone for it now in coming to his rescue."
"I do not understand you, Bertha. What wrong did you and I ever do to Herr von Ernau?"
"Have you then quite forgotten the past? Was I not all but betrothed to him, and did I not forget him so soon as I learned to know you? Scarcely had I heard of his death when I lent an ear to your vows, and when afterwards he would have claimed his rights I repulsed him with aversion. He loved me. Now, since I know that he knew me at Castle Osternau, I can understand why he left Berlin in despair after learning of my betrothal to you. You have heard the sad story from my father. Do you not see how we have embittered the unfortunate man's life? I could not help it. I loved you, but I am conscious of the wrong I did him. Do you not feel this with me, my dearest love?"
She clasped her hands about his arm and looked up at him, her eyes swimming with tenderness, and Wangen thought he had never seen her so surpassingly lovely. What was there that he could refuse her? What proposal of hers could he gainsay?
"Do you not see that it is our duty to be doubly kind to him to atone for the wrong our love has done him?" she asked, still gazing into his eyes.
"Why--yes, of course, my darling; but what can we do?"
"Receive him as a dear friend, be to him the best of neighbours, and, above all, prevent his falling a prey to the arts of a thorough coquette. Who knows but that in time he may take a fancy to Clara?"
Wangen laughed outright. "What an idea!" he said. "Ah, trust a woman for match-making! That child!"
"That child is now a wonderfully lovely girl, and will in a couple of years be well worth the wooing."
"Nonsense! nonsense, my darling!"
"Promise me at least not to let Herr von Ernau know that Elise is here."
"The fact cannot be concealed."
"Trust me to see that it is. Only say that you will not tell him of it."
He promised, although he could not persuade himself that Fräulein Lieschen was what his wife represented her. How could it be that he had been so mistaken in her? Still, his respect for his wife's superiority of mind, his entire confidence in her keenness of insight, so far beyond his own, forbade his seeming to doubt what she asserted so positively. And then when she looked into his face with those pleading eyes he was as wax in her hands.
Egon rose to dress after Wangen had left him, but he found that he had overrated his strength. He grew giddy, a dull headache confused his thoughts, and he lay down again for a while to collect them before making another attempt to rise. By degrees the pain subsided, and he was able to reflect calmly upon what had occurred, and upon the future.
He was to see Bertha again, and, to his own surprise, the thought of a fresh meeting with the woman with whom he had once dreamed of passing his life had no power to agitate him, or to quicken his pulses. It was simply a necessity, and, since the vicinity of Plagnitz to Linau made future intercourse unavoidable, the sooner it was over the better.
His second attempt to complete his toilet was much more successful than the first, although, as he finally looked at himself in the mirror before leaving his room, he was startled at the pale face and weary eyes which he saw there. He was conscious for the first time that he had grown very much older in the last four years. Was there not a white hair in the curl that escaped from beneath the narrow strip of linen bound about his brow?
"Madame will hardly find her old admirer dangerous," he said to himself, with a smiling nod at his reflection. "You never were handsome, old fellow, at the best of times, but to-day you are a positive fright. Perhaps 'tis best so. The consciousness of the figure that I cut may be of use in putting an end to any foolish fancies that might be born from a very gracious reception of me. Let the past be buried in the grave of poor Pigglewitch, we do not need it for the better life of the future." Thus reflecting, he left his room to take his way to the balcony, where, Wangen had told him, he should find the mistress of the mansion.
As he closed his door behind him he heard another door open at the end of the corridor, along which there instantly came tripping a graceful little girl of scarcely fifteen.
Involuntarily Egon's slow steps were stayed. There was something about the child that reminded him of Lieschen as he had first seen her. For an instant the present vanished, and he was standing, in the form of 'the new tutor,' at his window at Castle Osternau. Merry laughter floated upward from the lawn, and two children came flying out of the shrubbery. Lieschen's image as he had then seen it arose vividly before his mind's eye in all its innocent charm; but another moment brought him back to reality, and he knew that he was in a strange house, and that courtesy required that he should show himself aware of the presence of the new-comer. He bowed as ceremoniously as he would have done to a woman grown, and surveyed the pretty girl with great interest. Indeed, there was something of Lieschen in the arch sparkle of her eyes and in the girlish grace of her movements.
Clara paused also as she became aware of the stranger's presence, and returned his bow with a charming little courtesy. Then, suddenly approaching him, she said, "Are you Herr von Ernau, of whom I have heard so much? Oh, I thought you would look so different!"
"Indeed? And in what does the reality differ from the picture you condescended to frame of my insignificance?"
"I can't exactly say, but you are very---- Of course that bandage disfigures you, and you will look better when you have recovered from losing so much blood. Do you feel better? Are you strong enough to go alone, or shall I support you? Oh, you think I am too little to be of any use; but indeed you are mistaken, I am very strong. Lean on me. Indeed you do need help, you look so terribly pale and tired."
"I thank you for your kind offer of help, but----"
"Oh, you refuse it, of course; but I shall walk behind you, and if you totter I shall hold you up. Now I think of it, you do not know who I am. I must introduce myself. I am Clara von Wangen, Hugo von Wangen's sister, and I know you are on your way to pay my sister-in-law a visit. Is it not so?"
"You are right, Fräulein Clara."
"Do not call me Fräulein, it sounds as if you were laughing at me. Only the servants say Fräulein Clara, every one else calls me Clara only. I will show you the way to the balcony, where my sister-in-law is anxiously expecting you. She was very much surprised when she heard that you were Herr von Ernau, and I don't wonder at it, for a cousin who used to live with us while poor papa was alive told me such an interesting tale about how you were once betrothed to Bertha, and how you were thought dead, when she was betrothed to my brother. I hope it is not pert and forward to talk so to you, Herr von Ernau?"
"Not at all, I like it very much."
"Well, then, I'll go on, and tell you that you'd better be careful with Bertha. I don't think she has a good heart, and just when she seems kindest she is sometimes really most unkind. You'd better take care, Herr von Ernau. But I really must not talk to you any longer, or she will wonder what has become of you. Good-by!"
She turned as they reached the door of the balcony-room, and, tripping up-stairs, vanished from Egon's sight. He stood for an instant, pondering upon her childish warning, and then entered the room, where Bertha advanced instantly from the balcony to meet him.
How exquisitely beautiful she was! much more beautiful even than the picture of her which he had preserved in his memory. Her figure had not lost one whit in grace, while it had gained in fulness and finish. Her dark eyes sparkled and she smiled bewitchingly as she held out both hands to him, with "Welcome! a thousand times welcome, Herr von Ernau! Ah, what an anxious night you have given us!"
'You'd better be careful with Bertha.' The words occurred to Egon as he kissed the fair hand extended to him and felt its lingering pressure. The ordeal through which he was passing could hardly have been imagined by the child who had just left him, and yet her words helped him to suppress all evidence of emotion, although his heart did undeniably beat faster and louder.
"Your kind welcome, madame, gives me courage to hope that you forgive me for once deceiving you with a name and personality not my own, and----"
"I will not hear one more word that bears reference to the past, Herr von Ernau. It lies far behind us, and I have made a vow to forget it and to think only of the present and the future. Promise me to follow my example."
"It shall be as you please, madame."
"And I please to forget everything that is not delightful. We are near neighbours, I hope we shall frequently see each other, and I promise never to ask you a single question about your masquerading time. You must dismiss it from your thoughts."
"That will not be so easy. I should like to explain----"
"But I always detested explanations. What interests me at present is that you should take a comfortable chair and rest yourself: you are weak from loss of blood. You are trembling: take my arm."
In truth Egon was giddy for a moment, and involuntarily availed himself of the hand she extended to him. Wangen came forward to assist his wife, and conducted Egon to a luxurious chair on the balcony, where Bertha flitted about him, placing the cushions comfortably beneath his head, silently lavishing upon him a hundred little kindnesses, which scarcely contributed to dispel a certain embarrassment which began to possess him. Wangen was unwontedly silent; in truth his thoughts, like those of his wife and his guest, were busy with the past. Although hardly of a jealous temperament, his sense of his wife's intellectual superiority was always present to prompt him to self-depreciation, and he had remembered more than once during the morning the many brilliant qualities which he had long since heard attributed to Egon von Ernau,--the same man who, marvellously enough, had played the part of the Candidate at Castle Osternau. As he marked his wife's eager attention to their guest it occurred to him to wonder--it was but a passing thought--whether Bertha had not once been more interested in the tutor than she would have cared to admit. He felt ashamed of himself on the instant that such an idea should have found entrance in his mind, and yet he could not quite forget it.
His wife's influence, however, was so great over his moods that she soon conquered his taciturnity, and Egon was both interested and charmed by the lively talk that occupied the next hour. Bertha passed in review for her guest's entertainment and information all the principal persons in the neighborhood. True, her wit was sometimes far from kindly, but her tact was great, and she was quick to mark and to obliterate any adverse impression with regard to herself which she might produce. He therefore resigned himself to the spell of the moment, and had quite forgotten the unfortunate cause of his presence in Linau, when Inspector Kämpf made his appearance to announce to Wangen that the conveyance was about to start for Station R---- with the body of the unfortunate driver.
This recalled Egon to a sense of reality, the spell of the moment was broken; he begged the inspector to inform himself as to the poor man's family, for whose future he should care, and then, turning to Wangen, asked that he would kindly allow him the use of a vehicle in which to drive immediately to Plagnitz.
"Impossible! Indeed you cannot, you must not leave us, Herr von Ernau," Bertha exclaimed, in answer to his request. "You must stay in Linau until your wound is healed. We cannot let you go until you are perfectly strong."
Wangen added his entreaties to his wife's, although not with the same urgency, but Egon was firm. He declared that it was a matter of necessity that he should be in Plagnitz before evening, that he was quite strong enough to undertake the short journey thither, and that, with many thanks for the kind hospitality extended to him at Linau, he was resolved not to trespass upon it further. Neither Wangen nor Bertha could turn him from his purpose, and the former therefore yielded to his request, and directed Inspector Kämpf to have a light wagon made ready for Herr von Ernau's use.
The old administrator, Sieveking, at Plagnitz, had at last actually taken to his bed, and the whole responsibility of the management of the estate devolved upon Storting. He was quite equal to it, but just at present he was rather anxious; a few days previously a magnificent grand piano, with several large cases of books, had arrived from Berlin, addressed to Herr Egon von Ernau, Plagnitz, and it was evident that the proprietor of the estate was shortly to arrive and establish himself in his home.
There were many matters not yet ordered as Storting could have wished. Herr Sieveking belonged to the old school of agriculture; he was an old man, and had been ailing for some time; abuses had crept into his management which Storting had not been able to reform in the short time that had elapsed since his installation as inspector.
Thus the honest fellow was anticipating the arrival of the unknown proprietor with a degree of trepidation of which he was quite conscious, when, upon returning at noon from some distant fields, he became aware of a light carriage rolling along the road that led to the manor-house.
The gentleman leaning back in it must, of course, be Herr von Ernau; but no, it was not he. Storting's keen gaze recognized an old acquaintance, in spite of the distance and of the bandage beneath his hat. The pale face in the rapidly-approaching wagon was that of the Candidate Pigglewitch!
The inspector overtook the vehicle as it was turning into the court-yard. "Welcome, Herr Pigglewitch!" he cried, jumping on the step of the light conveyance, and extending his hand to its occupant. "How odd! Yesterday I met Wangen, and to-day you arrive at Plagnitz. This is an unexpected pleasure; you are cordially welcome."
Egon grasped the hand extended to him. "Your hearty greeting shows me that you at least bear me no grudge, Storting," he said, with some emotion. "I trust you will think none the worse of me when I tell you that I have no claim to the name by which you knew me. I am called Egon von Ernau."
Storting's surprise was so unfeigned, and his stare one of such blank amazement, that Egon burst into a laugh. "Why, what's the matter, Storting? Were you so attached to the Candidate with the charming name that his sudden disappearance fills you with dismay? I assure you that Egon von Ernau is excessively like him, except that just at present he is rather shaky from a fall over the Dombrowker Pass, and will thank you to lend him an arm, that he may enter his home with becoming dignity."
The carriage stopped before the principal entrance. Storting opened the door, silently offered his arm to Egon, and conducted him up the steps and into a luxuriously-furnished room.
In truth the lord of Plagnitz had, in his impatience to be really at home, rather overrated his strength. He begged to be left to himself for a while, and throwing himself upon a lounge, fell almost immediately into the profound sleep of exhaustion, from which he did not awake until after several hours. The housekeeper answered his bell, and upon his declaring himself positively famished hurried away to see that dinner was instantly served for the master so anxiously expected. To this Egon did ample justice, and when Storting again made his appearance, just as dessert was placed upon the table, he was eagerly welcomed. Egon told him of the accident of the previous evening, which made it unwise for him to attempt as yet any inspection of his fields and meadows. He regretted this all the more as he was anxious to show Herr Storting that he was now really capable of appreciating his valuable services. "And we should have grown very confidential, Storting, tramping around together. You know, I owe you an explanation of the sudden transformation of your old acquaintance Pigglewitch into Egon von Ernau, and this you shall have, even if I am tied to the house for a day or two. Sit down, take a glass of wine, make yourself comfortable, and we will each unfold the tale of the years that have passed since we last saw each other."
Storting readily complied, and eagerly awaited the solution of the riddle that had frequently occupied him during the past four years. He had, of course, suspected that there was a story attached to the tutor who rode so wonderfully, played billiards with such skill, was so admirable a musician, spoke French, English, and Italian fluently, and was rich enough, although he had as yet received no salary from Herr von Osternau, to remit, after his departure from the castle, the amount of a debt which he had contracted, but it had never entered the inspector's head that the Herr von Ernau, who had been so often and so severely criticised at Osternau, and the Candidate tutor were one and the same.
Egon leaned back in his arm-chair, and after a few moments' pause began his story, and, just as he had done long ago to the wretched Candidate on the shore of the little lake, told of his unhappy childhood and youth, and of his weariness of life. From this he went on to his sudden resolve to purchase the name and papers of the unfortunate Candidate. He condemned in sharp terms his useless, misspent existence before going to Castle Osternau, and spoke with reverential admiration of Herr von Osternau and his family, gratefully acknowledging the influence which the life at the castle had exercised upon his entire manner of thought. He told of his determination to turn his energies to some account, and of his pursuit of the study of agriculture during the past four years. He frankly confessed his faults and failings, and extenuated none of his follies. Upon one point alone he was silent: to no human being could he accord a glimpse of the inner sanctuary of his heart.
"And here you have me," he said, at the end of his story, "with a broken head, to be sure, but perfectly sound in limb, having escaped the death which befell my ill-fated driver, and all ready to begin my life as a country gentleman, in which I rely, Storting, upon your advice and assistance. I have been thus frank with you, because it seemed to me an absolute necessity that you, who once befriended me so unselfishly, should know me as I am. In fact, I should now like, if possible, to obliterate your memory of that aimless, idle, good-for-nothing fellow who came as tutor to Castle Osternau. He had but one good quality: he was not vain, and when he got among really capable, intelligent people he recognized his own worthlessness. He did not deserve such friends, but the ambition to be worthy of them arose within him, giving a new interest to existence. Yes, I learned from you, Storting, and especially from that admirable old Herr von Osternau, how there could be no weariness in a life of constant occupation directed towards worthy aims. I had to begin at the beginning; I attempted no royal road to the knowledge which was to shape my future career. I obtained a subordinate position on an estate in Saxony, and worked my way up. Now I am ready to reap the benefit of these years of hard work,--work that has been a positive blessing to me. And now, enough of myself and my doings, tell me of yourself, and of those among whom I was so happy for a while that I could scarcely carry out my plan of not returning to them. Tell me of Herr von Osternau, Storting, and why you resigned your position with him."
Storting looked in amazement at Egon as he thus calmly asked for news of the Osternau family. "Is it possible, Herr von Ernau," said he, "that you know nothing, positively nothing, of what happened at Castle Osternau scarcely three months after you left it?"
"Such is the case," Egon replied. "When I resolved to begin a new life I rigorously broke with all old associations, and although I could not drive Castle Osternau from my memory, I strictly refrained from informing myself with regard to its inmates. But my finding Wangen and his wife yesterday and seeing you to-day have called up old associations so vividly that I beg you to tell me minutely of every one of the Osternau circle,--of Herr and Frau von Osternau, of Fräulein Lieschen, of my pupil Fritz, even of Lieutenant Albrecht, if you will. I am eager for it all."
Storting gazed sadly at his companion. "Your eagerness to hear, Herr von Ernau, makes it even harder to tell you of the terrible misfortunes that have befallen Castle Osternau and its inmates."
"You amaze and distress me. Is Herr von Osternau not living then?"
"He has been at rest in the graveyard at Osternau for almost four years. I have a sad story to tell you, Herr von Ernau. It all happened in the night of the 18th of November. I had been to Breslau on that day to draw the money to be paid for the Wernewitz and Rudersdorf farms, which Herr von Osternau had bought. I was tired out with travelling in the cold November weather, and of course slept more soundly than usual. In the middle of the night I was wakened by a bright light shining into my face, and I sprang out of bed to find the flames leaping up to my window from the story below. You remember my room was directly above that of Herr and Frau von Osternau. I threw on my clothes and opened my door; the passages were filled with stifling smoke. The fire must have broken out in Herr von Osternau's study adjoining his bedroom, and the lives of himself and his wife were in danger. The staircase was already in flames. My only course was to climb from one of my windows down into the court-yard, which I accomplished successfully, shouting the while at the top of my voice to arouse the servants and labourers from the various farm-buildings. Two grooms, who had rooms in one of the barns, were the first to appear, when suddenly Lieutenant Albrecht stood beside me; whence he had come I could not tell, but he must have been aware of the fire for some time, for he was entirely dressed. The instant I looked at him a terrible suspicion occurred to me. 'Good heavens! what a misfortune!' he said. His face was ghastly pale, and his eyes avoided mine. I made no reply, the urgency was too pressing. Every minute the flames were gaining ground. They had caught the curtains of the open window of my room, and as yet Herr and Frau von Osternau gave no sign of being awakened by them. Had the fire reached their room, or were they already smothered? I rushed to the side-entrance, forgetting that it was always locked at night from within. I found it, however, unfastened, and as I flung it wide open a huge tongue of flame burst from the open door of the study. There was no reaching Herr von Osternau's bedroom by this way, neither could either of its occupants have penetrated through the smoke and flames of the study to gain safety. The only possible way to reach them was from the garden, upon which their bedroom windows opened. Meanwhile all the farm-people were thronging the court-yard; the fire-engine had been dragged from its shed, but there was no one to take the lead there, for Lieutenant Albrecht seemed paralyzed, and I was intent upon saving my good old employers. In the garden I found one window of their bedroom open, and the smoke pouring from it in volumes. I called Herr von Osternau loudly, but there was no reply. Two stout labourers lifted me upon their shoulders, and I leaped thence into the room. Near the window on the floor I found both of those whom I sought, unconscious from the effect of the stifling smoke. I can hardly tell you how we contrived with the help of the gardener's ladder, luckily left leaning against the wall of the house, to lift the unconscious master and mistress of the house through the window into the open air. We carried them immediately to the parsonage in the village, and left them in the care of the pastor and his good wife, while I returned to the burning castle. Here I found the wildest confusion; the peasantry from the neighbouring hamlets had flocked to the scene, women were shrieking, children crying, and through it all the crackling and roaring of the flames made night terrible indeed. The engine had been found useless, and when the men turned to the Lieutenant for counsel he had none to give. He was as one dazed. When I appeared among the terrified people they rushed to me for orders. What could I do? The fire had made terrible headway during my brief absence, there could be no hope of extinguishing it. The wing in which Fräulein Lieschen and Fritz slept was the only part which was as yet untouched by the flames, but they were already stretching hungry tongues towards it.
"'Where are Fräulein Lieschen and Herr Fritzchen?'
"No one answered my question; the men looked at one another in mute horror. All the servants who lodged in the castle had contrived to escape from their rooms unhurt. Some had leaped from the windows, and even old Hildebrandt was in safety, and had gone to the village to do what he could for his beloved master and mistress. Fräulein Lieschen and Fritz were alone missing. 'They are still sleeping, they are lost!' one of the servants wailed. The Lieutenant did not speak, but watched with horror the creeping flames that had already reached the roof of the wing.
"It was high time indeed to try some means of rescue. To enter the castle was impossible, but at my command a dozen willing hands brought two of the long ladders from the engine-house, and just as they were placed against the wall of the house, beneath Fräulein Lieschen's window, the young girl herself, with Fritz by her side, opened it and stood for an instant looking out upon the dreadful scene. The shout that went up from the crowd at sight of her I never shall forget. Two stout men had mounted the ladders in an instant; the young girl opened wide the window, lifted her little brother in her strong young arms, and delivered him to one of her rescuers, then easily climbing on the window-sill she stepped out upon the topmost round of the other ladder, and descended to the ground as lightly as she had been used to do when as a child she had climbed about the barns and granaries.
"All were saved then, but the dear old castle was gone beyond hope of rescue. In the early morning, when I left it again to go to the parsonage, it was a heap of smoking ruins, and but for the direction of the wind, which blew the flames towards the garden, the barns and storehouses would have shared its fate.
"At the parsonage sorrowful tidings awaited me. Frau von Osternau had indeed quickly recovered consciousness; she was now sitting with Lieschen at the bedside of her husband, who was in a most critical condition. The physician gave no hopes of his recovery. He was perfectly conscious, but an inflammation of the lungs had set in, which, in the precarious state of his usual health, could not but be fatal.
"When I entered the darkened room Fräulein Lieschen arose, and coming towards me spoke two or three kind words in acknowledgment of what she called my devotion; she was quite calm and collected, but her eyes were brimming with tears, and she was evidently controlling herself by an effort marvellous in one so young.
"Herr von Osternau was no sooner aware of my presence than he begged to be left alone with me for a few minutes. His poor wife burst into tears as she tried to speak to me, and Fräulein Lieschen gently led her from the room.
"I sat down beside the bed where lay the man who had been so true a friend to me, and pressed the hand which he feebly extended.
"'It will soon be all over,' he whispered, 'I have but a few hours to live, but I cannot go without confiding to you, my faithful friend, the terrible suspicion which makes these few hours miserable for me. To you alone, Storting, can I tell this: the fire last night was the work of a robber, who used this means to prevent the discovery of his theft, and this wretched incendiary is my cousin Albrecht.'
"I was horrified to have my own vague suspicion of the past night thus confirmed, and by a dying man. Herr von Osternau signed to me to bend down over him that he need use no unnecessary exertion, saying,--
"'I must have strength enough to deliver over to your special protection my little Fritz. A man who is a thief and an incendiary would scarcely hesitate to commit any crime; therefore I do solemnly commit my boy to your care, asking you to be as faithful a friend to him as you have always been to me.'
"I was naturally greatly moved, and willingly gave him the promise he asked for. Then, after a short pause, he went on in his failing voice to tell me how he had suspected, some weeks before, that a sum of money which had been taken from his secretary had been stolen by the Lieutenant, and that he had the lock replaced by one of most intricate construction to guard against any further loss. On the previous evening he had, before going to bed, arranged the notes I had brought him from Breslau, and had carefully put them into his strong-box and locked it up in his secretary, placing the keys on a little table beside his bed. When roused from his first deep sleep by the stifling smoke he had first called his wife, and then, remembering the money in the next room, which represented his daughter's portion, he looked for his keys to possess himself of it. They were gone from the table! In an instant it was all clear to him: his keys had been stolen! He rushed to the door which separated his room from the study, it was locked on the other side. Through the crack of it he could see the flames. He called to his wife to come and help him, and received no reply. He succeeded in opening the window, but knew no more until he recovered consciousness at the pastor's. He went on to say that no one save myself and Albrecht knew of the sum brought that day from Breslau, no one else could have taken the keys from his table while he slept. Then, when the theft was committed, he had locked the door leading into the next room, and set fire to the scene of his crime, that all chance of discovery might be destroyed in the flames. His end had been answered, the secretary was destroyed; how baseless must be any charge of theft or of incendiarism brought forward now! It would be worse than useless to stain with such an accusation an ancient and noble name, which he had taken pride in keeping untainted. The thief must be left to enjoy the result of his crime, but again he adjured me to watch over his boy. Then, utterly exhausted, he bade me farewell, and asked for his wife and daughter.
"They came again to his bedside, and I left the room and the house, encountering Lieutenant von Osternau as I did so. 'I hope my cousin is doing well,' he said, but he did not look me in the face as he spoke. I longed to strike him to the earth, but I controlled myself. Of course I shared Herr von Osternau's conviction, but all proof in the matter was wanting. I managed to tell him with tolerable composure that Herr von Osternau was so ill that there were fears for his life. I fancied I saw a gleam of triumph in his eye that belied his hypocritical words of regret, as he declared that under such sad circumstances he would not disturb his cousin's wife and daughter. As superintendent, it was his duty instantly to communicate with the insurance companies,--he must start immediately for Breslau.
"Convinced as I was of his guilt, I then committed an act of unwarrantable rashness. As he talked on so smoothly of going to Breslau in his cousin's interests, I made up my mind that it was to deposit his booty in a place of security that he was departing so soon, and the wild idea seized me that Fräulein Lieschen's portion might be recovered by a bold stroke. He most probably--nay, certainly--had it about him. I lost my head, and seeing two of my farm-hands who I knew were devoted to me coming down the street, I shouted to them, 'Seize Lieutenant von Osternau! he is the incendiary!' It was all wrong. I had no right to resort to such means, but, as I tell you, Herr von Ernau, I lost my head. The two men hesitated but for an instant, and then, with an 'Ah! we thought so!' fell upon the Lieutenant. He defended himself against them, and struck out wildly both at them and at me when I approached him, but of course he was quickly overpowered and bound. The noise of the struggle brought various labourers and villagers from their houses. No one took part with the Lieutenant, who had evidently aroused their suspicions by his strange conduct during the fire. For fear of disturbing Herr von Osternau, we did not carry the fellow into the parsonage, but into a cottage near at hand, where I searched him thoroughly, but found no trace of the money. If he had taken it, he had already made it secure elsewhere. I saw how rash I had been, what a terrible error I had committed, and I stood before him overwhelmed with shame. I ordered the men, who had stood by curiously while the search was going on, to release him, declaring myself in the wrong and my suspicions unfounded. They obeyed me with reluctance, and left me with the Lieutenant, who up to this moment had not uttered a single word, either during the search or while he was being unbound. When we were at last alone he confronted me with folded arms and an evil look.
"'You are only the servile tool of my cousin, or of his wife, who always hated me, and in whose brain was conceived the infamous suspicion of which I have been the victim.'
"I would have interrupted him to tell him that he was mistaken, but he exclaimed, 'Hush! I will listen to no excuse from you. If you were my equal in rank I should require from you the satisfaction of a gentleman; as it is, you cannot insult me. Tell Frau von Osternau that every tie of kindred is broken between us forever.'
"'Frau von Osternau knows nothing----' I began.
"'Spare me all falsehood,' he interrupted me. 'I do not believe you. I know that Frau von Osternau and Lieschen are my mortal enemies, and I shall not forget that they are so.'
"He turned on his heel and went out of the house, leaving me in a state of mortification and depression quite indescribable. I gathered myself together, however, and went again to the parsonage, feeling it my duty to confess what I had done to Herr von Osternau. This, however, I could not do: Herr von Osternau had died a few minutes after our interview had ended.
"I cannot describe to you, Herr von Ernau, the utter wretchedness of his poor wife. She had loved her husband with her whole heart; in her eyes he was the wisest and best of men, and at first she could find no consolation even in her children.
"Indeed, she was an object of compassion in every respect, for after Herr von Osternau's death his affairs were found to be in by no means so prosperous a condition as had been supposed. In former years he had devoted all his surplus income to the improvement of his estate, and when he began to save, in order to leave his wife and daughter independent, his own generous, kindly nature, which led him to pay Lieutenant Albrecht's debts repeatedly, and into other similar acts, was a bar to the fulfilment of his purpose. Only very lately had he succeeded in accumulating the sixty thousand thalers which was to purchase Wernewitz and Rudersdorf for Fräulein Lieschen, and this money--the only independent fortune which he had to bequeath--was either destroyed in the fire, or the prey of a scoundrel. There was no solution of this last question, for nothing came to light to confirm the suspicion which Herr von Osternau had confided to me.
"The Lieutenant had gone to Berlin immediately after being treated in the disgraceful way of which I told you, and did not return to Osternau, for, as he explained in a letter to Frau von Osternau, not even his cousin's death could obliterate from his mind the insult offered him, which must henceforth estrange him from his kindred. He lived in Berlin, as he had done formerly,--not more expensively, but on a scale of such luxury as to make a certain income indispensable. I was quite sure that I knew its source, but my conviction was useless in the matter. Popular opinion in the country round regarded the Lieutenant as the incendiary, but no proof of his guilt was forthcoming. Since, however, it was the common talk of the country, the courts took the matter up, and there was an investigation of the cause of the fire. It was without result, however; the only suspicious circumstance with regard to it being the state in which the fire-engine was found, after having been thoroughly examined and pronounced in good order a few days previously by the Lieutenant at Herr von Osternau's request.
"I thought it my duty to acquaint Herr von Sastrow, Fritzchen's guardian, with what the boy's father had confided to me, but I could not gainsay the good old man when he advised me to dismiss from my mind such apparently groundless suspicions.
"Frau von Osternau, after her husband's death, could not bring herself to leave the place which she so dearly loved. Herr von Sastrow tried to persuade her to remove to Berlin, where it would be much easier to educate Fritzchen; but she preferred to remain, for a while at least, in a modest little cottage which she rented in the village of Osternau. The allowance made her from the estate for the education of its heir sufficed amply for her wants. Herr von Sastrow confided the management of Osternau to me, and this rendered it possible for me to fulfil the promise made to his father to keep watch over Fritzchen.
"Three sad months passed after Herr von Osternau's death, and then the widow was called upon to sustain another terrible blow, in the loss of her prop and stay, her darling Fritz."
Egon had listened hitherto without a word to Storting's sad tale; he had been profoundly moved by the account of the burning of the castle, and of the death of its master, but at Storting's last words he started forward, exclaiming, "Fritzchen dead! What a terrible trial! Was his father's dying foreboding----"
"No, no, Herr von Ernau," Storting interrupted him. "Whatever crimes Lieutenant von Osternau may have committed, he is guiltless of Fritz's death: the boy died of scarlet fever. Fräulein Lieschen tended him night and day with a devotion which I have never seen equalled. She would not leave his bedside for an hour, although the physician tried to induce her to resign the care of him to some one else, since she had never had the fever herself. She was his only nurse, for her mother was ill in another room,--too ill even to see her darling, who breathed his last in his sister's arms.
"After Fritz's death the Lieutenant was the heir of Osternau; his cousin's wife and daughter could lay no claim to anything save the late proprietor's private property, and this had been destroyed on the night of the fire.
"A week after the boy's death the new master came to Osternau. He had told the pastor of his coming, and had asked him to rent a couple of rooms for him in some farm-house, which he could occupy until the rebuilding of the castle was complete.
"Immediately after his arrival he sent for me. I could not but obey his summons, for he was the lord of Osternau, and I was obliged to hand in to him my accounts for the management of the estate since Herr von Osternau's death.
"I went to him with a heavy heart, fully expecting that he would make use of the power now in his hands to revenge himself for the insult I had once offered him, and as fully resolved to requite scorn with scorn.
"He was sitting in a bare little room, the best the pastor could procure for him, at a table covered with papers. As I entered he rose and came towards me. He was greatly changed. The last few months had made him many years older. His eyes had an uncertain, flickering brilliancy; his face was haggard and very pale. The erect military carriage that had formerly characterized him was gone: he had grown old.
"He offered me his hand, and addressed me in a tone of hypocritical friendliness that disgusted me, as after one fleeting glance of keen scrutiny his eyes fell before mine.
"'We were hardly friends when we parted, Storting,' he said. 'You offended me, and I used harsh words towards you. We were both in a state of unnatural agitation, induced by the events of the night and my cousin's danger. You meant to act for the best, as the friend and servant of my dear departed relative. When I was cooler I perceived this, and therefore, I assure you, I bear you not the faintest grudge. Here is my hand. I trust you will take it in the spirit in which it is offered.'
"I could not refuse to take his hand, although my whole nature rose in revolt against any fellowship with the man. I had to sit down and take a cigar, while he talked to me as one would to some dear old friend, without a trace of the arrogance which had formerly made him so disliked by me. He asked, with every appearance of sympathy, after Frau von Osternau and Fräulein Lieschen. I had to inform him of the particulars of Fritz's death, and of Fräulein Lieschen's devotion; he showed the keenest interest in the welfare of his relatives, and postponed all business details, remarking that the management of the estate could not be in better hands than mine, and that he would discuss business with me when his relations with Frau von Osternau and Lieschen should be arranged. That they might become so, he begged me to assist him.
"'I assure you, Storting,' he said, 'that I am profoundly distressed by the terrible trials that have fallen to the lot of my dear relatives. For Frau von Osternau I entertain a greater regard than words can express, and Lieschen, whom I have known from her early childhood, has always been my ideal of feminine loveliness. My cousin Fritz formerly frequently expressed the wish that a nearer tie might some time exist between his daughter and myself,--the dear child was in a measure brought up for me. This thought has often solaced me in hours of depression. I always regarded her as my future wife, even in the midst of our trifling disputes. Unfortunately, by my own fault, the relations between my relatives and myself have not of late years been so harmonious as they once were, and I fear that Lieschen may not think favourably of her father's former promises, the fulfilment of which forms the chief--I may say, the only--hope of my existence. My heart would lead me to declare this myself to Frau von Osternau and her daughter, but my head tells me to entreat your mediation, Storting; no rash word uttered by Lieschen in the excitement of the moment must be allowed to place a barrier between us. I ask of you a favour, Storting, which will make me your debtor for life: tell Frau von Osternau what I have just told you. She is a woman of practical sense and discernment, she will not be led astray by the mood of the moment, but will perceive that a union between Lieschen and myself is the most natural and harmonious solution of the present unhappy state of affairs, for which the law of entail is to blame. As my wife, Lieschen will be mistress of the Osternau estate. Surely Frau von Osternau will use her influence with her daughter to induce her to encourage my hopes.',
"My blood ran cold at the idea of Fräulein Lieschen's becoming this man's wife, but I could not refuse to carry his proposal to Frau von Osternau. What had the future in store for them save a life of poverty and care? By the terms of the Osternau entail, the widow of a former proprietor was entitled to but three hundred thalers yearly from the revenues of the estate; the daughters were entirely unprovided for. Under these circumstances was not a marriage with the Lieutenant to all appearances Fräulein von Osternau's only resource? Was there not a degree of generosity in the offer just made? I could not but make it known to the mother and daughter.
"It was a hard task. When I presented myself in their lodgings, I found them already informed of the Lieutenant's arrival. I reported to them the conversation I had just had with him, and strove, to the best of my ability, to do so in an entirely impartial manner. I must have succeeded in this, for my words evidently produced an impression upon Frau von Osternau.
"'We have done Cousin Albrecht injustice,' she said, gently. 'He may be thoughtless and imprudent, but he cannot be bad, or he would not so soon forget the insult lately offered him in Osternau. His offer is magnanimous at least. You never treated him well, Lieschen, you often offended him, and yet he loves you, and would make you mistress of Osternau.'
"Fraulein Lieschen gazed at her mother with an expression of positive horror. 'You cannot think for an instant that I could accept his terrible proposal?' she asked, and her voice trembled.
"'Do not judge your cousin so harshly, my child,' said Frau von Osternau. 'He hopes, as you have heard, that you will not decide hastily; he knows your impetuous temperament, and dreads your saying to him in a personal interview words which could neither be forgiven nor forgotten. What you have just said proves him right. Therefore he has asked our good Herr Storting to be his messenger, conscious also that you are my dear, unselfish child, and that you may be brought to overcome your momentary impulse of aversion to this marriage when you consider that your 'no' would drive us both away from our dear Osternau,--from the graves of your father and Fritz,--out into the world, to struggle with poverty and want, while your 'yes' would make you mistress of Osternau, and allow me to live here, where I have been so happy, and where, in the midst of memorials of the past, I never can be quite unhappy. I feel sure that, after due reflection, you will decide for the best, and, therefore, I beg you not to decide at once.'
"Fräulein Lieschen wept bitterly while her mother was speaking, but when she paused, and, taking her daughter's hand, drew her towards her, the young girl embraced her tenderly, and, controlling herself, said, calmly and firmly, 'It would be wicked to postpone my decision for an hour. I will sacrifice everything for you, mother dear, except my soul's salvation, and that would be imperilled by false vows. How can I promise to revere and love a man whom I despise? I cannot sell myself to him, mother, even for your sake. To require this of me would be to doom your only child to death.'
"'Lieschen!' cried her mother, 'do not blaspheme.'
"'No,' she rejoined, 'I do not blaspheme. I should not lay hands upon my own life, mother, but the sense of my degradation would kill me. But you will not compel me to such a fate? you will not be faithless to the memory of my father, who never would have permitted it? I will gladly share poverty with you, gladly work for you, dearest mother, but marry that thief----"
"'Hush, Lieschen, hush!' her mother interrupted her.
"'It was my father's word, whispered in my ear in his last moments," the girl went on. "'Watch over Fritz,' he said; 'protect him from the thief and incendiary.' Go back to Herr von Osternau, Herr Storting, and tell him what you have heard; tell him the mere thought of him inspires me with aversion, and that I would rather die in misery than sell myself to him. You have carried his message faithfully, do the same by mine.'
"You know, Herr von Ernau, that I was never at any time able to resist Fräulein Lieschen's requests, and I did not fail her in this the darkest hour of her life. I promised to report her decision to the Lieutenant. She thanked me with a look, and Frau von Osternau said, with a sigh, 'I must submit. Lieschen has inherited her father's strength of will in matters of conscience. The foolish child is destroying her future; it is sad, but I cannot prevent it. I must yield to her resolve. Since it must be so, it is, perhaps, better not to postpone acquainting Albrecht with her decision.'
"I left them with a far lighter heart than I brought to them. The commission with which I was charged could hardly be considered an agreeable one, especially as Fräulein Lieschen begged me to repeat to the Lieutenant everything that she had said concerning him; but the sense of relief in knowing that she was in no wise to belong to that villain outweighed every other consideration in my mind.
"The Lieutenant had probably foreseen the answer he should receive. He calmly listened while I repeated, as far as I could recall it, all that Frau von Osternau and her daughter had said, only omitting to mention that Fräulein Lieschen had called him thief and incendiary. An evil smile played about his lips, but he only glanced at my face from time to time, seeming unwilling to meet my eye.
"'I meant well,' he declared, when I had finished, and then he went on to explain his regret that his relatives should be so limited as to means, that he would gladly have shared his wealth with them, and that, in view of Lieschen's youth and inexperience, he should continue to hope that with time she might be brought to regard his suit favourably. Meanwhile, he offered Frau von Osternau and her daughter a home in the castle so soon as it should be rebuilt. If they refused to avail themselves of this offer, he should, of course, confine himself to the payment to the widow of the yearly sum allowed her by law. It would weary you, Herr von Ernau, to recount to you all the details of our conversation. I thanked God when it was ended.
"Of course Frau von Osternau refused to live beneath his roof, dependent upon his bounty. There was no need of Fräulein Lieschen's indignant rejection of any such idea to influence her mother's decision. The two went to Berlin, where it was easier than in any country town to find some employment wherewith to eke out their scanty income. They left the village of Osternau two weeks after the Lieutenant's arrival, without having seen him, and on the day of their departure I too bade farewell to the place where I had spent such happy years.
"Herr von Osternau offered me a large salary if I would continue to occupy my position as superintendent of the estate, but I could not bring myself to serve the man who could never be to me anything save a thief and an incendiary. I procured another situation not nearly so profitable in a pecuniary point of view.
"I corresponded at first very frequently with Frau von Osternau, and although of late our letters have been fewer, I have never lost sight of her. She has had a weary, anxious time of it. Too proud to ask help from her wealthy relatives, she had no resources save her paltry yearly pittance of three hundred thalers and the untiring industry of Fräulein Lieschen, who furnished embroidery for one of the large Berlin firms. Frau von Osternau wrote with positive enthusiasm of her daughter, who, in spite of her constant labour at her embroidery, found time to study and to complete her defective education, so that last spring she passed a brilliant examination as governess. My last letter was received from Frau von Osternau between three and four months ago, when this examination was just passed; and while the mother spoke of it with pardonable pride, she mourned over the probability of a coming separation from her daughter, who was about to accept a situation as governess, thereby greatly increasing her mother's means of support. Of Cousin Albrecht she had heard only through Herr von Sastrow. He lived for a short time the life of a hermit in his gorgeous new-built castle, avoided by all families of his own rank in the neighbourhood; for the report that he had set fire to the castle was rife in the country around, and he was virtually sent to Coventry. He therefore spent most of the year in Berlin, where he associated with needy members of the aristocracy and doubtful characters whose good will he could purchase with his money. The doors of the first people in society were closed against him. His large income he wasted in all sorts of extravagant dissipation, and it was reported in Berlin that he had contracted enormous debts.
"For herself Frau von Osternau wrote that, if her daughter accepted a situation as governess away from Berlin, she too should leave the city and go to some Silesian village, where her small income would suffice for her modest wants."