Herr Berkow had arrived in the afternoon of the day on which Arthur and his wife had made their excursion through the forest, and had received them on their return home. This time he did not appear to be in such excellent spirits as on the occasion of his previous visit, when he had revelled in the first triumph procured for him in his own house by his grand new connection.
He was, it is true, now as ever, full of politeness to his daughter-in-law and of indulgence towards his son, but his manner, even on the evening of his arrival, showed that he was ruffled, uneasy, abstracted, and this was still more evident next morning when Arthur went to his room and asked for an interview.
"Another time, Arthur," said he, evading it, "another time. Do not tease me about trifles now that my head is full of most important affairs. The city business and money matters have caused me an immense amount of worry. Everything is at a standstill, or bringing loss instead of gain, but you understand nothing about it, and very likely don't care. I will soon bring things into shape again myself, but pray spare me all talk about your private concerns just now."
"It is not a private concern of my own this time, sir, the subject has its importance for you too. I am sorry to take up your time now that you are overwhelmed with business, but I cannot help it."
"Well--after dinner then," returned Berkow impatiently. "You can very well wait till then. I have not a moment now; all the officials are waiting for me over in the committee-room, and I have sent word to the chief-engineer that I will go down the shaft with him as soon as the meeting is over."
"Go down with him?" asked the young man, growing attentive. "Do you mean to inspect the mines personally?"
"No, I am going to see after the alterations in the lifting-apparatus which have been begun in my absence. What should I do down in the mines?"
"I thought you were going to ascertain personally whether things are in as bad a state down below as they pretend."
Berkow turned round suddenly as he was going out, and looked at his son in surprise. "What do you know about the state of things in the mines? Who has put such notions into your head? I suppose the Director, finding I turned a deaf ear to his last demands for cash, has since applied to my son. Well, he has got to the right man there!"
He laughed out loud, not noticing the displeasure in Arthur's face; the latter replied with some sharpness:
"But it must be looked into, to find out how far these improvements are necessary, and as you are going down with the engineers, you might take advantage of the opportunity to make a more thorough examination of the shafts and galleries."
"That I certainly shall not," returned Berkow curtly. "Do you think I want to risk my life? Things are dangerous in their present condition, there is no doubt about it."
"And yet you send down hundreds of men every day?"
The tone of this question was very peculiar, so peculiar that his father frowned with annoyance.
"Do you mean to lecture me, Arthur? I fancy a sermon from you would sound rather odd. You seem to have taken refuge in philanthropy from the monotony of your stay in the country. I would let that alone if I were you. It is an expensive pursuit, particularly in our circumstances. Besides, I shall take good care no accidents happen; I should incur a loss by it which would be exceedingly ill-timed just now. The necessary repairs shall be made and things kept in order; but as for extensive improvements, I have in the first place no money for them, and in the second, I cannot allow the works to be stopped even for a day. To have enabled me to do that, your requirements should have been rather more moderate than they were for some time before your marriage. But I really don't understand why you a troubling yourself all at once about things which you generally ignore altogether. You had better busy yourself with the arrangements for your salon and for the soirées you will be giving in the city this winter, and leave to me the care and responsibility of matters which you understand nothing about."
"Nothing," assented the young man with rising bitterness. "You have taken care of that."
"I do believe you mean to reproach me!" exclaimed Berkow. "Have you not enjoyed every pleasure in life? Have I ever recoiled before a sacrifice which could procure you enjoyment? Shall I not leave you a wealthy man, I who began life without a penny in my pocket? Have I not, by this marriage of yours with the Baroness Windeg, got you introduced in the ranks of the nobility to which you will one day belong? I should like to see the father who has done so much for his son as I have!"
During the whole of this speech, Arthur had stood silent, looking out of the window.
"You are quite right, sir, but I see you have neither time nor patience to listen now to what I had intended saying to you. I will wait until after dinner."
So saying he went out. Berkow looked after him and shook his head. This son of his was growing incomprehensible to him; but he had, indeed, no time to spare. He locked his desk hastily, took up his hat, and went over to the committee-room with a look on his face which presaged but little sunshine for those who there awaited him.
Meanwhile the miners had assembled about the shaft, ready to begin the second shift of the day. They were waiting for the overman, who had not appeared as yet. In and about the shed at the shaft's mouth were grouped together men of every age and skilled in every branch of industry which active mining operations call into play. The various Deputies of the various divisions were there also, but the most prominent figure of all was Ulric Hartmann, who stood in the midst of them, with one foot on the steps, his arms crossed, silent at present, and yet distinguishable as the leading man.
No real discussion could have been held then, both time and place were unfitted for it, but even at these short casual meetings the talk turned on the one subject which now occupied all the men on the works.
"You may depend upon it, Ulric, they will not follow us on the other works," said the young miner Lawrence, who was standing next to Hartmann. "They think it is too soon; they are not ready; in short, they have no mind to begin, and would rather wait and see how things turn out."
Ulric tossed his head defiantly. "What do I care? We will go forward alone then, we have no time to spare."
A movement of surprise was to be seen amongst the miners. "Alone?" asked some. "Without our mates?" added others, and the majority repeated anxiously "Now? Already?"
"Now, I say," declared Ulric imperiously, as he threw a challenging look around him. "If any man among you is of a different way of thinking let him say so."
A not inconsiderable number of those present seemed to be of a different way of thinking, but no one ventured on a decided opposition; only Lawrence said gravely:
"But you thought yourself it would be better if all the works in the neighbourhood struck at the same time?"
"Can I help it if they dally and shilly-shally until our patience is worn out?" asked the young Deputy vehemently. "If they will go on waiting, we can't, and that they know right well. But they want to send us on first under fire, that they may see how the thing goes with us. Right good fellowship that! Well, we will manage without them."
"And you really think that he"--Lawrence glanced in the direction of the château--"that he will give in?"
"He must," said Ulric decidedly, "he must or else ruin himself. Several of his speculations have just failed, he has had to meet his son's debts, and the new house in town will be a matter of some thousands. If there is a stoppage on the works for a couple of months or so just now when the great contracts have been entered into, it is all up with their fine doings. Two years ago he might have weathered it, but not now. We shall get all we want if we threaten to strike."
"God grant we may!" said an elderly man with a pale sunken face and anxious look. "It would be terrible if we took all that care and trouble upon us for nothing, if we and our wives and children were to go on starving for weeks together, and, after all, find things just as they were. Had not we better wait until our mates ...?"
"Yes, if we were to wait for the others?" was heard from several voices.
"Talk, talk, and nothing but talk!" broke out Ulric fiercely. "I tell you now is the time, and we must set about it. Will you go with me, or will you not? Answer."
"Don't flare out like that," said Lawrence pacificating. "You know well enough we shall all go with you, if it comes to that. Let them do as they will on the other works, we are united among ourselves; not a man of us will desert you."
"I would not recommend any one to remain behind, if once things become serious," said Ulric, glowering darkly at the corner whence the opposition had proceeded. "We can't have any cowardice. Every man must be answerable for his fellow, and woe to him who is found wanting."
The young leader seemed to have adopted the right way of stifling any possible germs of resistance; his comrades were awed by his despotic treatment of them. The few dissentient voices, those exclusively of middle-aged men, were silenced, and the rest of the miners, especially the younger ones, flocked round Hartmann with loud demonstrations of approval. He continued more quietly:
"Besides, this is not the time to discuss it all, this evening we will"----
"The overman!" broke in several voices, while the looks of all turned to the door.
"Fall apart!" commanded Ulric; obedient to the order, the men dispersed at once, each miner taking up his safety-lamp which he had previously placed on one side.
The overman, coming in upon them suddenly and rather unexpectedly, probably saw the group separate quickly at his approach, and perhaps heard the word of command, for he looked keenly round the circle.
"You seem to have your men in capital discipline, Hartmann," said he coldly.
"Pretty fair, sir," returned the other in the same tone.
The overman must have known as well as the other officials what was going on among the hands, but he preferred to see and hear nothing. He went on in a matter-of-fact way:
"Herr Berkow is going with the engineers to inspect the pumps and the lifting apparatus. You are to wait with Lawrence in the shaft, Hartmann, until the gentlemen come up. Deputy Wilm can lead your men with his own, and you can follow later on."
Ulric received his instructions in silence and remained behind with Lawrence, while the others, conducted by the overman, began the descent. When the last of his comrades had disappeared, the young miner turned in his wrath.
"They are all cowards together," he muttered angrily. "One can't get them to move for their fears and their indecision. They know as well as I do that we must make use of the present time, and yet they won't go forwards, because the others are not at their back. A very good thing that it is Berkow we have got to deal with and no other. If he were the right sort of man, and knew when to show his teeth and when to give them good words, they would never go through with the business."
"Do you think he will not know?" asked Lawrence, rather distrustfully.
"No, he is a coward like all tyrants. He will talk loudly and harass us so long as he has the upper hand, but when his skin or his money-bag is in danger, he will sing small. He has made himself so thoroughly hateful, and he persists so in driving them on to the last extremity, that soon not a man among them will hold back, and then it will be all right. We shall have him in our hands then."
"And the young master? Do you think he won't interfere when the troubles break out?"
An expression of unconcealed contempt played about Ulric's mouth, as he answered disdainfully,
"Hecounts for nothing. He will run away back to the city at the first alarm and put himself in safety. If we had only him to deal with, we should settle the business very quickly. He would say yes to everything, if you threatened not to let him have his sleep out. The father will give us rather more trouble."
"He is going to inspect the pumps," said Lawrence, reflectively. "Perhaps he will go into the mine as well?"
Ulric laughed out bitterly.
"What are you dreaming of? Men like us must risk their lives daily. That is what we are fit for, but our lord and master will remain where it is safe in the shaft. I wish I had him alone once with me, face to face. He should learn what it is to tremble, as we so often have to do down below."
The young man's look and tone were full of such savage hatred that his more moderate companion thought it better to be silent, and so, for the time being at least, let the conversation drop.
A long pause ensued. Hartmann went up to the window and looked out impatiently. All at once he felt the touch of a hand on his shoulder, and, turning, saw Lawrence standing at his side.
"I want to ask you something, Ulric," began the latter with some hesitation. "I think you will tell me if I ask it of you. How do matters stand between you and Martha?"
Some seconds passed before Ulric answered.
"Between me and Martha? What do you want to know for?"
The other looked down.
"You see, I have been courting the girl so long. She would never take me, because ... because there was some one else. Well, I can't blame her"--with a wistful glance of admiration at his friend--"and if it is really a fact that you are standing in my light, well, I must manage to drive the whole thing out of my head; so tell me, are you of one mind?"
"No, Karl," said Ulric, in a low voice. "We are not of one mind, and we are not likely to be. We know that now both of us. I shall not stand in your way any longer with the girl, and I think, if you will try your luck once more, she will take you."
A gleam of joy passed over Lawrence's face, and he drew himself up erect with a deep-drawn breath of relief.
"Do you really mean that? Well, if you say so, it must be true, and I will try once more this very evening."
Ulric frowned.
"This evening? Don't you remember that we have a meeting to-night, and that you have to attend it, instead of going courting! But you are no better than the others! Now when we are going into the fight your head is full of your love-making; now when a man should be thankful to be without wife and child you are thinking of nothing but of getting married. There is no bearing with you all!"
"Well, I may ask Martha any way," said Lawrence somewhat hurt. "And if she really does say yes, it will be some time yet before the wedding. You don't know how a man feels when there is some one he cares for that he can't have, how sick at heart he gets when he sees another man with her day after day, only needing to stretch out his hand to take that which he would give his life for, and yet not caring to take it. You"----
"Have done, Karl." Ulric interrupted him with lips working with agitation, and letting his clenched fist fall so heavily on the wood-work that it groaned again. "Go to Martha, marry her, do what you like, but don't talk to me any more of such things. I can't, I won't bear it."
The young miner looked at his friend in amazement. He could not comprehend so violent a repulse. There was no doubt that Ulric gave the girl up freely .... but he had no time to ponder over it, for at this moment Berkow's sharp voice was heard outside, saying in very ungracious tones to the officials who accompanied him:
"And now I must beg of you, gentlemen, to have done. The old ventilators have lasted all this time without an accident, and they will last longer. We need no expensive novelties which it pleases you to consider necessary, because they would not be paid for out of your pockets. Do you think I want a model philanthropic establishment here? I want the returns to be increased, and the funds required for that purpose will be granted. All the other items will be erased. If the miners have to run risks, I can't help that. They earn their bread by it. I can't throw away thousands to insure a few hewers and trammers against an accident which might have happened any day, but never has happened yet. The repairs in the shafts and mines will be limited to what is strictly necessary to keep things in good working order, and so there is an end of it."
He pushed open the door of the shed and seemed unpleasantly surprised at seeing the two men, whom he had certainly not expected to find there, and who must have overheard his last words. Their presence appeared to be even more unsatisfactory to the chief-engineer.
"Hartmann, what are you doing up here?" he asked in some embarrassment.
"The overman told us we were to go down the shaft with the gentlemen," answered Ulric, keeping his darkly gleaming eyes fixed on Berkow.
The chief-engineer shrugged his shoulders and turned to his principal, with a look which said plainly enough, "He might as well have chosen some one else," but he made no reply.
"All right," said Berkow, shortly. "Go on, we will follow you."
The two miners obeyed. When they were out of sight of the others, Lawrence stopped a moment.
"Ulric!"
"What?"
"Did you hear?"
"That he can't throw away thousands just to insure the lives of a few hewers and trammers? But the returns are to be increased by tens of thousands! Well, no one is safe here down below, and he means coming with us to-day. We shall see whose turn comes first. Off with you, Karl."
It seemed that the long-looked-for spring had indeed conquered her kingdom by the might of yesterday's storm, with such magic swiftness had the weather changed over night. Fog and cloud had vanished without leaving trace behind, and with them were gone also both wind and cold. The mountains lay clear and distinct, bathed in bright sunshine, the air around them was warm and balmy, and so at last one might dare to hope that the continual rain and tempests of the last few weeks were over at last, over for the long sunny spring and summer time.
Eugénie had stepped out on to her balcony, and was looking at the landscape from which the veil had at length been lifted. Her eyes were fixed dreamily on the mountains out yonder. Perhaps she was thinking of yesterday's mists up on the heights, perhaps the rustling and swaying to and fro of the great pine branches still sounded in her ears, but all these recollections were suddenly put to flight. The note of a post-horn was heard close by, and immediately afterwards a chaise drew up before the terrace below. With a cry of joyful surprise she flew back from the balcony.
"My father!"
Yes, it certainly was Baron Windeg who stepped so quickly from the carriage and up into the hall, where he found his daughter already waiting to welcome him. It was the first time they had met since her marriage, and, in spite of the presence of two servants who had rushed to the door to receive so distinguished a guest, the father took his child in his arms, eagerly, as he had done on the evening of her wedding-day, when she had come in her travelling dress to take leave of him. At length she drew herself gently free and led him with her to her favourite room, the little blue boudoir.
"What a surprise, papa!" said Eugénie, radiant with joyful agitation. "I had no idea of this visit."
The Baron, with his arm still round her, sat down by her side on the sofa.
"And I did not propose to visit you, dear, but I had to make a journey to this part of the country, and I neither could nor would resist going a few miles out of my way that I might see you again."
"A journey?" Eugénie looked up enquiringly at her father and met his eyes, which were searching her face, as though trying to read there the story of the weeks during which she had been separated from him. As her look fell accidentally on the hat he was still holding, she shrank back, pale and startled.
"For Heaven's sake, papa! tell me the meaning of that crape. My brothers" ...
"They are well and send their love," said the Baron soothingly. "Do not be alarmed, Eugénie, you have no cause to fear for any who are dear to you. The mourning which has fallen on our house does not, I regret to say, deeply affect our hearts. But you shall hear all about that later on, now you must tell me" ...
"No, no," interrupted his daughter uneasily. "I must know first for whom you wear this crape. Why are you in mourning?"
"Windeg placed his crape-bound hat on one side and drew his child more closely to him; there was something convulsive, something painful, in the manner of his tenderness towards her.
"I am on my way to pay the last marks of respect to our cousin Rabenau. His property lies in this province."
Eugénie started up. "Count Rabenau? the owner of the entailed estates?"
"Is dead," continued the Baron, speaking with difficulty. "In the fulness of life and strength, a few weeks before his intended marriage. No one could have foreseen that."
Eugénie had grown deadly white. It was evident that the news awakened in her some terrible emotion which yet was not grief. She said no word, but her father seemed to understand her agitation.
"You know that we have been strangers to each other for a long time," he went on sadly. "Rabenau's rough, fierce ways made it impossible for us to be on good terms, and I shall never forget the bitter repulse I met with from him six months ago. He could have saved us if he would, it would have been but a light thing to him. He refused harshly and peremptorily, and now he is dead, leaving no issue. I succeed to the entailed property, now that it is too late, that I have sacrificed my child!"
There was such misery in his tone that Eugénie made a great effort to control herself, and succeeded after the lapse of a minute or two.
"O papa, you must not think of me now! I--I am quite relieved to know that you will be so richly compensated for all the past humiliations. I was only a little startled, taken by surprise at the sudden news. We never could have counted on the succession."
"Never!" said the Baron gloomily. "Rabenau was young and strong, he was about to be married. Who could have guessed that a three days' illness would have carried him off? But, if he was fated to die, why, oh! why could this event not have happened sooner? A month ago, half, nay, a quarter of the wealth now flowing in upon me would have saved us. I could have flung back his money to the rogue who brought my misfortunes on me, with the hundredfold rate of usury which he claimed, and my only daughter would not have been the price of his vile bargain. I accepted your sacrifice, Eugénie, God knows not for my own sake, but for that of the name we bear, and to secure my sons' future. Now, when I think that all that bitter sacrifice was in vain, that a short chance delay of a few weeks would have spared it us both, I cannot endure this mockery of Fate."
He pressed her hand tightly in his. But, by this time, Eugénie had won back all her pride and complete composure. If this "too late" were terrible in its effect upon her, she did not allow it to be seen.
"You must not speak so, papa," she replied firmly. "It would be unjust to your other children. Count Rabenau was such, that we can only formally mourn his death, and it sets you free from much trouble and embarrassment. My marriage only averted the most threatening danger. There remained burdens enough upon us, which weighed heavily and might one day have brought you again into degrading dependence on that man. All fear of this is now over for ever, you can pay him back the whole of what you have received, we shall owe him nothing more!"
"But he will owe us," interrupted Windeg bitterly, "and he will take good care never to pay his debt; it is the thought of that which turns my joy to gall. A short time back I should have greeted this deliverance with delight, and with the keenest sense of relief, now it drives me to despair on your account."
Eugénie turned away and bent over some flowers which bloomed in a vase at her side.
"I am not so unhappy as you and my brothers perhaps fancy," said she, in a low voice.
"Not? Do you think your letters could deceive me? I knew beforehand that you would do all to spare us, but if I could have had a doubt, your pale face would have told the story plainly enough. You are unhappy, Eugénie, you must be unhappy with this man who"----
"Papa, you are speaking of my husband!" The young wife spoke with so much warmth, and rose so hastily from her seat, that her father stepped back and looked at her, astonished at her tone and at the crimson flush which overspread her countenance.
"Forgive me," said he, recovering himself, "I cannot accustom myself to the thought that my daughter belongs to an Arthur Berkow, and that I am at the present moment in his house. They oblige me to enter it if I wish to see my own child! But you are right, I must spare you in speaking of the man you have married, though I can see plainly how much you have suffered, and still have to suffer through him."
The deep glow was fading slowly from Eugénie's face, but there was still a lingering flush on it, as she answered hurriedly,
"You are mistaken, I have no complaint to make of Arthur. He has held himself aloof from the first with a forbearance for which I can only thank him."
The Baron's eyes kindled.
"I would not advise either him or his father to forget the regard which is due to you. They, of all people, least deserved the honour you have brought to their house, where there was no great honour before. And one satisfaction I can give you, Eugénie: you will not long have to bear a name to which attaches so much meanness, so much roguery to us and to others, roguery none the less shameful that the law cannot touch it. I have taken care that, at least, there shall be an end of that."
His daughter looked at him in surprise.
"What do you mean, papa? An end of what?"
"I have taken the necessary steps to obtain for your"----the Baron seemed to have some difficulty in pronouncing the word, "your husband an elevation to the peerage. Only for him, not for his father, I will renderhimno service, and I will not have him, even formally, admitted into our ranks. It is not unusual that such a change of position should be accompanied by a change of name, and so it shall be in this case. You can choose yourselves among the names of your estates that which may seem to you the most suitable for the noble race you are about to found. Your wishes will be taken into consideration."
"The noble race we are about to found!" repeated Eugénie almost under her breath. "You are mistaken, papa, and if you only wish for this elevation of rank on my account ... but you are right! It will be best in any case. The thought has been dreadful to me that I had to accept back, as a free gift from Arthur's generosity, that which he had bought and paid for. Now, we can offer him something for it. The patent of nobility will be ample compensation for all that he gives up."
In the bitterness of this outburst there was an undertone of suppressed pain. To Windeg one was as incomprehensible as the other; his daughter's speech was an enigma to him, and he would have asked her for an explanation, if a servant had not just then appeared and announced Herr Berkow, who wished to wait upon the Baron.
Arthur entered and approached his father-in-law with some polite speech about the latter's unexpected visit. The young man had resumed his old blasé manner. He welcomed his guest as a mere matter of etiquette, and his guest, in return, just submitted to the welcome as to a necessity. This time no strangers were by, so even the form of shaking hands was omitted. They contented themselves with bowing coolly, then the elder man took up his position again at his daughter's side, and the younger remained standing, evidently intending to shorten, as much as might be, this enforced visit to his wife's boudoir.
Windeg would not have been the consummate man of the world he was, if, notwithstanding the exciting nature of his talk with Eugénie, he had failed to fall back at once into a conventional tone. The usual inquiries were then made, and information given as to different members of the family. Count Rabenau's decease was mentioned as the cause of the journey, and formal condolences were offered by Arthur, who certainly had no idea of the change which this death would bring about in the circumstances of his new relations. At length the Baron introduced a new subject.
"But," said he politely, "I bring some news from the city which must have a real interest for you, Herr Berkow. I take it for granted that your father's wishes respecting an elevation of rank have been no secret from you, and I am in a position to assure you that they are likely to be fulfilled. On one point, certainly, I find the obstacles to be insurmountable. There are certain--certain prejudices against Herr Berkow personally, which can hardly be set aside, but, on the other hand, there is every disposition to distinguish him, as one of the leaders of the industrial movement in this country, by conferring a title on his son. In short, I hope soon to offer you my congratulations thereupon."
Arthur had listened without any change of countenance. Now he raised his eyes, and Eugénie's gaze was immediately riveted on them, with an interest inexplicable even to herself.
For the moment, however, there was but little to be read in his face.
"May I ask, Baron, whether the wishes of my father were alone consulted in this matter, or whether the question has been raised out of regard to your daughter?"
Windeg felt slightly embarrassed; he had reckoned so surely on some expression of thanks, and now instead there came this singular inquiry.
"Our wishes on the subject became naturally identical, when once the alliance between us was accomplished," he returned rather stiffly. "Besides, I did not conceal from Herr Berkow my doubts as to any personal benefit accruing to himself. I received an assurance from him that he would, if necessary, lay aside his own claims in favour of his only son and heir, his sole anxiety being to secure for him a brilliant career in the future."
"Then I regret that my father has not made me acquainted with the progress of this affair. I only knew of it as a vague project," said Arthur coolly, "and I regret still more that you should have used your influence to procure for me an honour, which I, unfortunately, must decline."
The Baron started up and stared at his son-in-law.
"Excuse me, Herr Berkow, did I hear aright? I understood you to speak of declining"----
"Of declining a peerage, were it offered to me. Yes."
Windeg was utterly disconcerted, a thing which rarely happened to him. "Well then, I must beg of you to give me your reasons for this, to use a mild term, very singular refusal. I am extremely anxious to hear them."
Arthur looked across at his wife. She had started as he spoke, and the deep flush had again mounted hotly to her cheeks. Their eyes met, and they gazed for a second at each other, but the young man found in his wife's face no inducement to yield. He answered with a decided ring of defiance in his voice.
"My refusal is less singular than the proposal, as it is made to me. Had a title been conferred on my father, on account of the services he has indisputably rendered to the industry of the country, I, as his heir, should have joined in accepting it. Such a recognition is honourable as any other. It has not been thought fit to grant it to him, and I, of course, am no judge as to the prejudices which may stand in the way. But, for my part, I have not the very smallest claim to such a distinction, and therefore I think it better not to set afloat a report in the city that a connection by marriage with the Windeg family will necessarily imply a peerage."
He let fall the last words very quietly, but Eugénie pressed her lips angrily together. She knew he meant them for her alone. Was he bent on freeing himself from everything that could justify her contempt? Her wish to feel such contempt was stronger than ever.
"I seem indeed to have been in error as to the motives which led you to desire our connection," said the Baron slowly, "but I must confess I was not prepared to find that you held such views. They must be of somewhat recent date, for, before your marriage, you appeared to entertain quite different ideas."
"Before my marriage!" A smile of infinite bitterness played about Arthur's lips. "I was somewhat ignorant then as to the way in which I myself and my position in society were looked upon in the upper circles. This has since been clearly pointed out to me in a rather unsparing fashion, and you can therefore hardly feel surprise that I should renounce all idea of forcing my way into them as an unwished-for intruder."
Eugénie's fingers closed tightly round the rose which she had drawn out of the vase and was still holding in her hand. The tender flower shared the fate her fan had lately met with in Arthur's grasp; it fell crushed to the ground. Arthur did not notice it, he had now almost turned his back on her and stood facing her father, who stared as though in doubt as to whether it really were his son-in-law he saw before him.
"I cannot, of course, divine who may have made such very exaggerated disclosures to you," he replied gravely, "but I do beg of you in this matter to have some consideration for Eugénie. The rôle she will, in all probability, have to play in the city this winter makes it impossible for her--excuse me, Herr Berkow--impossible, I say, for her to bear a middle-class name. That was never intended either by your father or by me."
Arthur looked again at his wife long and sternly. She still took no part in the conversation, interfering by no single word, though she generally knew right well how to make her views known and her will felt.
"Before the winter, the situation may have shaped itself differently than at present appears. Leave that to Eugénie and to me. For the time being, I regret that I must maintain my decision. As this high position is offered to me alone, I certainly have the right alone to accept or to decline, and I must decline, for--pardon me. Baron--I do not wish to owe it to my wife's aristocratic name."
Windeg rose offended.
"Then there is no course left open to me but to recall as speedily as possible the steps which have already been taken in this business, so that I may not be compromised further than I am at present. Eugénie, you are quite silent. What do you say to the views you have heard your husband express?"
The young wife was spared all answer, for at this moment the door was, not noiselessly opened by the servant as was usual, but hastily flung back, and, unannounced, with pallid face and an utter disregard of those forms to which he was wont to pay so much attention, in rushed Herr Wilberg.
"Is Herr Berkow here? Excuse me, my lady, I must speak to Herr Berkow at once."
"What has happened?" said Arthur, going up to the young man, whose disturbed countenance betrayed ill tidings.
"An accident!" said Wilberg breathless. "Down below in the shaft. Your father is hurt, grievously hurt. The Director sent me"----
He got no further in his report, for Arthur had hurried past him to the door. The young official was about to follow him, but outside in the corridor he was stopped by the Baron.
"Have you told the son the whole truth?" asked he gravely. "You need hide nothing from me. Is Herr Berkow dead?"
"Yes," gasped Wilberg. "He was ascending with Deputy Hartmann--the ropes gave way--Hartmann saved himself by springing on to the last stage but one--Herr Berkow was carried down into the depths. No one knows how the accident happened, but it cannot be concealed. Prepare her ladyship for the news, I must go."
He hastened after Arthur, while Windeg turned back into the room, where his daughter met him in a state of great excitement.
"What have you heard, papa? The face of that messenger of woe spoke of something more than a mere injury. What has happened?"
"The worst," said the Baron deeply moved. "But a few minutes ago, Eugénie, we were uttering bitter accusations against the man, now all our hatred and the enmity between us are over. Death has smoothed them away."
The first solemn weeks succeeding the accident had passed by, but that sense of oppression, which rests upon every house of mourning, had not yet been dispelled; it made itself even more keenly felt now that all the busy arrangements, the visits and condolences, were over. There had been no lack of outward marks of sympathy. Berkow's position, his numerous acquaintances and large connections made his death an event of importance. The cortége which followed him to the grave, including, of course, all the officials and workmen on the estate had been of endless length. Cards and letters strewed the heir's writing-table, and the whole neighbourhood came to pay visits to his wife. Every attention was shown to the young people; it was felt that, so far as they were concerned, there were no "prejudices," as Baron Windeg had diplomatically expressed it, to be overcome.
The loss cut no one to the heart, perhaps not even the dead man's only son, for whom he had done so much. Where all esteem is wanting, it is not easy to love. But it would have been hard to decide whether Arthur were deeply moved by his father's death or not. The composure he showed in the presence of others led to the belief that he had not been seriously affected by it, and yet, ever since the catastrophe, he had been almost solemn in his gravity, and had become inaccessible to all with whom he was not necessarily brought into relations. Eugénie's calm could surprise no one who knew anything of the circumstances. Her hatred, like her father's, had died out, certainly, at Berkow's death; any other sentiment towards him had been out of the question with her, and, unfortunately, her views in this respect were shared by many who had but too good cause for such a state of feeling.
The officials had been too often wounded by the arrogant and unconciliating behaviour of the man who, having made his own way up in the world, looked upon their knowledge and abilities as so many wares to be at his absolute disposal, in consideration of the salary paid; they could have no deep regrets for the loss of a principal who cared little either for character, personal qualities, or individual talent, but was exclusively bent on extracting the greatest possible amount of service from each in his separate capacity.
Among the workmen a still worse temper was noticeable; they showed an utter absence of all feeling, they were moved neither by sympathy nor compassion. Whatever reproaches Berkow had earned, he had incontestably proved himself to be an industrial genius of the very first order. By his own efforts he had raised himself from poverty and lowliness to the height of prosperity--had called into being operations on so grand a scale as to vie with any in the land--had won for himself a position which he might have used as a blessing to thousands. He did not so use it, had not been willing to do the good he might, and, therefore, through all his belongings, throughout his vast establishment, a deep breath of relief was drawn when his sudden death became known. "Thank God!" was the thought unexpressed, but felt by all, and in this manner judgment was passed on his memory.
Whether the inheritance of such a life and all that it had sown year by year were, in reality, as desirable as appearances suggested, shall not here be decided. However that might be, its first effect on the young heir was to lay on his shoulders such a heavy burden of care and business as, according to the general opinion, he was of all men least fitted to bear. He had, it is true, officials for each separate department, representatives and authorised agents, but the very fact that his father had thoroughly understood how to keep them all in subjection to himself and under his sovereign control, made the present need greater, the absence of the guiding eye and hand of the master himself more keenly felt. The son had now to take the reins in hand, and, before ever he could do so, the significant shrugs of all his dependants showed their unanimous judgment, or rather condemnation, of him. They were all of one mind as to this: he was to be counted on for nothing, or next to nothing.
The entire staff of officials was assembled in the committee-room, awaiting the arrival of the new proprietor who had convoked the meeting for this hour. Any one who saw these gentlemen's irresolute disturbed countenances, some of which bore traces of real anxiety, would have been convinced that more important matters were on hand than the mere formal introduction of the heir, now that the first days of mourning were over.
"That was a blow," the Director was saying to Herr Schäffer, who had come out from the city, "the very worst that could have happened to us! We knew long ago what they were concerting and planning among themselves, and the same thing is going on now on all the neighbouring works. We could see it coming, and we should have taken some precautionary measures, but now, just at this juncture! It places us altogether at their mercy."
"Hartmann has chosen his time well," put in the chief-engineer bitterly. "He knows what he is about in going ahead like this, without waiting for the other works. The master gone, all the affairs in confusion and at a standstill, the heir incapable of any energetic action--now is the very time to push his claims! I always told you this Hartmann would be a thorn in our flesh. The people are not ill-disposed; we cannot blame them for wanting to secure for themselves safety in the mines and the necessaries of life. They have held out under oppressive circumstances as no others have, and they would have made reasonable demands which might have been granted. That which they want to dictate to us now under their present leader passes all belief. It is a regular revolt against all existing institutions."
"What will the young gentleman do.'" asked Wilberg, rather timidly. Among these helpless, anxious men, he was most helpless, most anxious of all.
"What, under the circumstances, he can't help doing," returned Herr Schäffer, gravely. "Agree to whatever they ask."
"Excuse me, he cannot do that," cried the chief-engineer. "There would be an end of all discipline, and before the year is out he would be a ruined man. At any rate, I should not remain on any works where that course was adopted."
Schäffer shrugged his shoulders.
"And yet there is hardly any alternative left him. I have told you already that things are by no means so brilliant with us as they appear to be. We have had losses of late, very heavy losses. On every side there have been deficits to cover, sacrifices to make, and, with all this, so many engagements to meet.... In short, we have nothing to reckon on but the actual returns from the works. If they remain idle for a few months, and we cannot carry out the contracts we have undertaken for the year, then--it is all up with us."
"Something of this must have got wind among the hands," said the chief-engineer, thoughtfully, "or they would not have dared to show so bold a front. But they know full well that what has once been conceded can never be recalled. Hartmann will strain every nerve to gain his end, and if, owing to the stress of circumstances, he should really succeed!... What said Herr Arthur when you acquainted him with the state of his affairs?"
It was noticeable that none of the officials even spoke of him as Herr Berkow or as their principal. They seemed not to be able to associate such terms with their late master's son. They called him Herr Arthur or "the young gentleman," as they had been in the habit of doing. At the last question all eyes were turned on Schäffer.
"Nothing," said Schäffer. "'I am obliged to you, Schäffer.' That was all. But he kept the papers, which I had taken with me for his edification, and shut himself up with them. I have not spoken to him since."
"I spoke to him yesterday evening when I had to submit to him our people's demands," said the Director. "At the first mention of the bad news, he turned deadly pale, but he listened in silence without answering a syllable, and when I gave him a few words of counsel and encouragement, feeling sure that it would end in a consultation, he sent me away. 'He wished first to consider the matter alone.' Imagine, if you please, Herr Arthur considering! This morning I received instructions to summon you all to a conference."
The old sarcastic lines showed round Herr Schäffer's mouth.
"I am afraid I can tell you the result of our conference beforehand. 'Consent to everything, gentlemen, give way unconditionally, do what you like, only make sure that the works are kept going for the present.' And then he will make the announcement that he is going back to the city with her ladyship, and intends to leave matters here to Providence and to Herr Hartmann."
"But blow after blow is falling upon him just now!" broke in Wilberg, taking the part of the absent with chivalrous warmth. "A stronger man than he might well succumb."
"Yes, weakness always finds sympathy from you," said the chief-engineer, derisively. "But, during the last few weeks, you seem to have had a very decided leaning in the opposite direction. Herr Hartmann was in the enjoyment of your special friendship. Do you still rave about him?"
"Good Heavens, no!" cried Wilberg, with almost a look of consternation. "I have felt a horror of the man ever since--ever since Herr Berkow's sudden death."
"So have I," said the chief-engineer shortly, "and so, I suppose, have we all. It is revolting to have to treat precisely with him, but when there are no proofs, one does well to be silent."
"Do you seriously believe then in the possibility of a crime?" asked Schäffer lowering his voice.
The Director shrugged his shoulders.
"At the inquest, they only proved the fact of the ropes having given way. They may have given way of themselves; whether it really was so or not, can only be known to Hartmann. As I said before, the inquest brought nothing to light, and there certainly would have been no just grounds for suspicion had any other man been his companion. This fellow is capable of anything."
"But, remember, his own life was in the greatest peril. He saved himself by a spring, which was a daring feat not one in ten could have attempted, and which, assuredly, not one in ten would have made successfully. He must have expected to go down with the other and be dashed to pieces."
The chief-engineer shook his head.
"You little know Ulric Hartmann, if you think he would hesitate to risk his life in any undertaking he was bent on carrying through. You stood by that day when he rushed before those horses. It was his humour then to come to the rescue. When the fancy takes him to destroy, he will care little about bringing destruction on himself. That is just the dangerous point about this man. He is utterly without consideration either for himself or for others. He would sacrifice himself in case of need, if"----
He broke off suddenly, for at this moment the young proprietor came in.
Arthur was greatly changed. The deep mourning he wore made his naturally pale face appear still more pallid, and his eyes looked as if he had known no sleep for many a night. He returned the officials' greeting quietly, as he stepped in among them.
"I have sent for you, gentlemen, that I might confer with you on the subject of those business concerns which have passed into my hands through my father's death. There is much in them to set in order and much to change, more, possibly, than we at first supposed. Up to the present time, I have, as you are aware, held myself completely aloof from all these matters, and I shall not be able to feel my way at once, though, during the last few days, I have attempted to do so. I must, therefore, rely entirely upon your goodwill and readiness to assist me, and, as I shall, doubtless, make many claims on you for both, I offer you beforehand my sincere thanks."
The gentlemen bowed; marks of astonishment were already visible on most of their faces, and the chief-engineer cast a glance at the Director, which seemed to say, "So far, he is rational enough."
"All these things," continued Arthur, "must give place for the moment to the misfortune, the danger with which we are threatened by the demands our miners have made upon us, and by the suspension of work which might follow on our non-agreement to them. Of course, there can be no question as to our decision."
This time it was Herr Schäffer's turn to shoot a glance over to the chief-engineer; it spoke as plainly as its predecessor: "Did not I tell you so? he makes unconditional surrender. Now he is going to announce his departure."
But the young proprietor seemed in no haste to do so; he went on:
"In the first place, we must find out who drills the people, and who leads them?"
A pause of a few seconds followed. None of the officials cared to pronounce a name they had so lately associated with the recent accident. At last the chief-engineer said:
"Hartmann leads them, and so there can be no doubt that they are in able hands, and that the movement has been well organised."
Arthur looked thoughtfully before him.
"I fear so too, and there will be a battle, for, as to a complete concession on our part, of course, there can be no question of it."
"Of course, there can be no question of it!" repeated the chief-engineer triumphantly, thereby giving the signal for a very animated debate, in which he most resolutely defended the views he had previously expressed. Herr Schäffer, who represented the opposition, was not less eager in his endeavours, by all sorts of hints and covert allusions which were understood by his young principal but too clearly, to prove to the latter that there was no help but to yield.
On the other hand, the Director preserved a sort of neutrality, advising delay and some negotiations. The remaining officials let the heads of the different departments have the discussion to themselves, risking only an occasional remark, or modestly expressed opinion.
Arthur listened to it all in silence, and apparently with much attention, neither leaning to one side nor the other, but when Schäffer brought one of his longest speeches to a close with the explicit words "we must!" he raised his head suddenly with an air of resolution which hushed all the voices round him.
"We must not, Herr Schäffer. There is something more to be considered in this than the question of money; my position here as master would be ruined for ever if I were thus to surrender at discretion. Though I am but little acquainted with these things, I can plainly see that such demands as are now made overstep all bounds. You allow that, gentlemen? Abuses may have crept in, the miners may have grounds for complaint" ....
"That they have, Herr Berkow," interrupted the chief-engineer stoutly. "They are in the right when they ask for a thorough examination of the mines, and for the necessary repairs and improvements; they are right in requiring that their wages shall be raised, and there is something to be said also in favour of relief to be granted in the division of labour. Beyond this all is arrogant presumption, and due solely to their leader Hartmann. He is the soul of the whole business."
"Then we will hear him first. I have already sent him word that his presence, and that of the other delegates, might be necessary here. They are in attendance. Herr Wilberg, will you call them in?"
Herr Wilberg obeyed, his open mouth and almost stupid expression of countenance betokening extreme amazement. Herr Schäffer raised his eyebrows and stared at the Director. The latter took a pinch of snuff and stared at the others, and then they all turned their gaze collectively on the new proprietor, who thus suddenly made arrangements and gave out orders in a tone which fairly bewildered them. The chief-engineer was, perhaps, the one exception. He turned his back on his colleagues, and took up his stand at Arthur's side, knowing well by this time where his allegiance was due.
Meanwhile Wilberg had returned, followed by Ulric Hartmann, Lawrence and another miner. As though it were a matter of course, these two remained some steps behind and let the young Deputy advance alone.
"Good day!"[1]said he, and "Good day!" repeated his two comrades; but the tone of the greeting seemed to contradict its meaning. Ulric's bearing had always been imperious and defiant, but it had never assumed so challenging and absolutely insulting an air as now that, for the first time, he came before the master and assembled officials, no longer as a subordinate to receive orders and instructions, but as a delegate who had not to submit his terms, no, but to dictate them!
His attitude betrayed, it is true, no low-minded arrogance, but rather that disdainful sense of superiority, which the consciousness of his own strength and others' weakness bears in upon a man. He let his moody blue eyes travel slowly round the circle until they fixed themselves, at last, upon the principal, and his lips curled contemptuously as he awaited in silence the opening speech.
Arthur had not seated himself during the previous discussion. He stood now, grave and collected, and faced the man, who, as every one declared, was principally to blame for the blow which threatened him. Of that far deeper blame connected with his father's last moments, he, the son, was happily quite unsuspicious. He began the negotiation, therefore, with perfect composure.
"Deputy Hartmann, you submitted to me yesterday, through the Director of this establishment, the claims put forward by all the miners employed on my works, and in case of these not being conceded, you threatened a general cessation of work."
"Just so, Herr Berkow," was the short decided answer.
Arthur leaned with his hand on the table, but his tone was cool and business-like; it betrayed no emotion whatever.
"Before we go any further, I wish to know what you really have in view in this proceeding. These are no reasonable demands, they amount to a declaration of war, for you must say to yourselves that I neither can nor will make any such concessions."
"Whether you can make them or not, I don't know, Herr Berkow," said Ulric coldly, "but I believe that you will have to make them, for we are determined to let the works lie idle until you have agreed to our terms. You won't find men to replace us in the whole province."
The argument was forcible, and little could be objected to it, but the tone in which it was put forth was scornful in the extreme.
Arthur's brows contracted angrily.
"It is far from being my intention to refuse you everything," he explained steadily. "Among your demands are several the justice of which I acknowledge, and those I am ready to meet. An examination of the shafts and mines shall be made and the necessary alterations at once completed. The wages will, in part at least, be raised. To accomplish this, I shall have to make heavy sacrifices, more, perhaps, than in a business point of view I am justified in making, but it shall be done. On the other hand, the remaining clauses must be withdrawn. They tend solely to take all power from me and my agents, and to relax that discipline which, in such a concern as this, is a question of paramount importance."
Ulric's contemptuous expression had disappeared and given place to a look of surprise and distrust. He turned his eyes first on the officials and then on their leader, evidently suspecting that the latter was reciting a lesson previously learnt by heart.
"I am sorry, Herr Berkow, but the clauses must stand!" he returned defiantly.
"I can well believe that to you they form the main point at issue," said Arthur, "nevertheless, I repeat it, they must be withdrawn. In my concessions I will go to the extreme limit of what seems practicable. There I shall stop, and shall attempt nothing further. That which I am ready to grant should and would content every man who is seeking honest remunerative labour. Those who are not satisfied with it are seeking something quite different, and with such there can be no hope of coming to an understanding. I give you my word of honour that all necessary precautions shall be taken for the safety of the men who work in the mines, and that there shall be an increase of wages. I shall only require from you some confidence in my word. Before, however, we begin to discuss the matter, the second part of your claims must be given up. They can never be made good, for no consideration on earth would induce me to subscribe to them."
He had maintained throughout the same quiet business-like tone, but the whole tenor of his speech differed so widely from the young heir's habitual style and manner that it could not fail to have some effect on Ulric. He could hardly believe his own ears, but the more unexpected resistance was to him, coming from a quarter where he had surely reckoned on some timid compromise which should serve as a bridge to absolute surrender, so much the more did such resistance anger him, and his fiery spirit broke at once through the unaccustomed restraint.
"You had better not put the matter from you in that way, Herr Berkow," said he, in a threatening voice. "There are two thousand of us, and the works are as good as in our hands. The time is past when you could make slaves of us and crush us at your liking. Now we demand our rights, and if we can't get them by fair means, we shall take them by force."
A movement, half of anger, half of uneasiness, passed through the circle of bystanders. They felt that a scene was at hand, and dreaded lest, through Hartmann's savage temper, it might end with some deeds of violence.
Arthur had grown crimson. He stepped forward a few paces and stood close to Ulric, facing him.
"First of all, Hartmann, have the goodness to alter your tone, and remember you are addressing your employer. If you wish to be received here as a delegate, if you lay claims, as such, to some sort of equality, you must behave with the propriety which is customary on such occasions, and not fling in our faces threats of violence and revolt. You exact discipline from your people, and I exact it from you. Lord it outside over your comrades as much as you choose, but so long as I stand here before you, it is I who am master of these works--and I intend to remain so. Keep that fact in mind."
A thunderbolt falling into the committee-room could not have had a more startling effect than these words, spoken with great energy and in commanding accents. The officials receded in their first surprise, and then moved round their leader as if to protect him, but he quietly waved them back.
The two miners, standing in the background, stared at him half stupefied by their astonishment; but, of all present, Ulric was most seriously affected by this sudden display of vigour. He had grown deadly pale and stood bending forwards, with trembling lips, with eyes wide open, as though he could not, would not, understand that which he saw and heard. A great blaze of anger flashed into his face, and he was about to rush at his enemy like an enraged lion, when he met a look so clear, so calm and steadfast, that it quelled him as it would have quelled the kingly beast he resembled.
Arthur still stood motionless, he had but opened his eyes wide and full, and with his eyes alone had ordered back within bounds that furious spirit in the very act of breaking forth. Only a few seconds did they gaze at one another; then the fortune of the day was decided. Gradually Ulric unclenched his right hand; gradually the wild look of menace vanished from his countenance and his eyes sought the ground. He had recognised in his young employer an equal, if not a superior mind, and he bowed before it.
Arthur stepped back. His voice sounded cold and quiet again as he continued: "And now let your comrades know what I can grant and what I cannot. You may add that I shall not retract a single word of all that I have said. So we have done for the present.
"We have," Ulric's voice was low and hoarse, half stifled by repressed passion. "I must inform you then, in the name of the miners employed on these works, that all hands will go on strike tomorrow morning."
"Very well, I was prepared for it. And now, I warn you, Hartmann, once for all, to take no extreme measures. They say you have unlimited power over your comrades. Look to it then that quiet and order are maintained, and do not hope to intimidate by noisy disturbances. I and my friends here will do all and everything to avoid a conflict. If it is forced upon us, we shall take up a defensive position, and, if it comes to the worst, I shall use my rights as master of the place. Spare both me and yourselves that."
Ulric turned to go. In the hate and fury of his parting glance there mingled a something other, deeper, undivined by any; a something which tightened round his wild passionate heart with a cramp-like hold. He had so taught himself to despise this 'weakling,' and so triumphed in the thought that he must be despised ... elsewhere also. But if the man showed himself elsewhere as here, then there must be an end of all contempt, and the great brown eyes, which had compelled obedience from him, might there compel some other feeling than hatred and repugnance. The pallor, which had overspread the miner's face on receiving that reprimand, became almost livid as he turned away.
"We shall see who holds out longest. Good day."
He went, accompanied by his two comrades, whose faces showed that the scene they had just witnessed had worked differently on them than on their leader. They cast back a look half shy, half respectful at their master, and their manner, on leaving the room, was hesitating and uncertain.
Arthur looked after them with a scrutinising gaze, and then turned to the officials.
"There are two already who follow him in a half-hearted way. I hope the majority of them will come to their senses, if we give them time. For the present, gentlemen, we must yield to necessity and close the works. I quite appreciate the danger of our position here, in a secluded place with two thousand excited men having a leader like Hartmann at their head, but I am determined to stand my ground, and not to give way an inch until all is decided. It must, of course, depend entirely on your own choice whether you follow me or not. As almost all of you were opposed to my decision, I, naturally, cannot force the consequences of it upon you, and I am quite ready to give leave of absence to any one who thinks a temporary removal from the works desirable."
This proposal was answered by a unanimous and indignant negative. All the officials pressed round their principal with almost passionate eagerness, assuring him that not one of them would budge from his place. Even the timid Herr Wilberg seemed suddenly to have acquired the courage of a lion, so earnestly did he give in his adhesion. Arthur drew a long breath of relief.
"I thank you, gentlemen. We will discuss things further this afternoon, and agree as to the measures to be taken. I must leave you now. Herr Schäffer, in an hour I shall be glad to see you over in my study. Once more, gentlemen, I thank you all."
Only when he had gone, and the door had fairly closed behind him, did all the different feelings of astonishment, approval and apprehension find vent, which up to this time had been restrained by his presence.
"I am trembling in every limb," said Wilberg, forgetting his superiors' close vicinity and letting himself fall on to a seat. The excitement of the moment seemed to have done away with all considerations of etiquette. "Good Heavens, that was a scene! I thought that savage, Hartmann, would rush upon him! but his look! his way of speaking! Who could have expected it from him?"
"He was too sharp, a great deal too sharp," said Schäffer disapprovingly; but, even in his disapproval and in the thoughtful shake of his head, there was quite another expression to that which he had lately manifested in speaking of Arthur. "He talked as though he had still command over millions, and as though it were not a question of life and death with him to keep the works going. With all the father's arrogance, he would have given way here unconditionally, for, as far as the business is concerned, it would have been salvation to him, and he was not troubled by many considerations as to his dignity and his position. The son seems to be made of different stuff, but that kind of speech, though a year ago it might have answered very well, is out of place now. He should have been more prudent, rather more vague in his expressions, so as to have left open a way of retreat in case of"----
"The deuce take your prudence and your hesitation!" interrupted the chief-engineer hotly. "Excuse me for any rudeness, Herr Schäffer, but it is quite evident that you have been accustomed to office life, and have never had great masses of workmen under your command. He just hit the right nail on the head. He awed them, and, in a case like this, that is everything. They would have taken a kindly exhortation as a proof of weakness, and a cold and distant address for pride. You must put it to them in their own language, 'make your choice between this and that,' and our principal knows right well how to do it. You could see that by Hartmann."
"I only fear that, with it all, he under-estimates the struggle before us," said the Director gravely: "If our people were alone, they would declare themselves satisfied with the concessions made to them, but, with a leader like Hartmann, it will be different. He will admit of no sort of arrangement, and they all follow him blindfold. But our principal is right. He has gone as far as he possibly can. To overstep these limits would be to deliver himself, his position, and all of us, up into their hands."