I am afraid you will spoil me so dreadfully that I shall find it very difficult to return to my simple "way of life," said Reinhold, as he drove through the Brandenburg gate of the Thiergartenstrasse sitting by Ferdinanda's side in his uncle's carriage.
"What is the good of having carriages and horses if they are not to be used?" answered Ferdinanda.
She had thrown herself back upon the cushions with the tip of her foot upon the opposite seat. Reinhold could hardly take his eyes off the exquisite figure, which was shown off to the greatest advantage by a pretty autumn toilette. He seemed to realise for the first time how beautiful his cousin was, and he could quite understand why she so plainly attracted the notice of the gaily-dressed crowds that thronged the walks, and why several riders as they trotted past turned in their saddles. Ferdinanda did not seem to observe it; the large eyes looked straight before her, or were raised with a tired dreamy look to the branches of the trees, which seemed tired and dreamy, too, as they drank in unmoved the mild warmth of the autumn sunshine. Perhaps it was this connection of ideas which made Reinhold ask himself about what age the beautiful girl might be? and he was rather astonished when he calculated that she could not be far from four and twenty. She had always lived in his memory as a tall thin girl, not yet blossomed into flower, but then certainly that was ten years ago. His cousin Philip, who was then a long lanky youth, must now be very nearly thirty.
A light two-wheeled carriage that had been following them now overtook them.
On the high driving-seat sat a tall, fine, broad-shouldered man, well, and it struck Reinhold rather over dressed, driving a pair of remarkably fine high-stepping black horses with his hands encased in light kid gloves, and a little groom on the back seat with folded arms. The driver had to get out of the way of a carriage that was coming towards him. His attention was turned to the other side of the road, but when he was some carriage-lengths off he leaned over his seat and eagerly waved his hand and whip, to which Ferdinanda replied in her usual careless way with a nod.
"Who was that?" asked Reinhold.
"My brother Philip."
"How strange!"
"What?"
"I was just thinking of him."
"That often happens, particularly in a big town and at the hour when every one is out. I shall not be surprised if we see him again at the Exhibition. Philip is a great lover of pictures, and draws and paints by no means badly. There, he has stopped! I thought so. Philip has good manners."
The next moment they were side by side with the phaeton.
"Good-morning, Ferdinanda! good-morning, Reinhold! I bless the light which showed me how to light on you the very first day! Bad pun that, Ferdinanda--eh? You look uncommonly well, my dear cousin, with your brown face and beard; and you need not be ashamed of the lady by your side either--eh? Where are you off to? The Exhibition? That is capital; we shall meet. That horse is like a mad thing to-day. Au revoir!"
He touched with his whip the black horses, who were already beginning to fidget, and drove quickly off, again nodding over his broad shoulders.
"I should not have known Philip again," said Reinhold; "he is not like you--I mean not like you or my uncle."
In fact, a greater contrast could hardly be imagined than between the big red beardless smooth face of the young man with his short hair, and the deeply-lined face of Uncle Ernst, surrounded and surmounted with its grey beard and hair, or the refined and unusual beauty of Ferdinanda.
"Lucky for him," said Ferdinanda.
"Why lucky?"
"He is what he looks, a man of the day; we are ghosts of the middle ages. Consequently it is he who is looked upon as the ghost amongst us; but it is not his fault."
"Then in this terrible rupture between him and my uncle you take his side?"
"We are not asked our opinion at home; you will see that by-and-by."
"I can do that now," thought Reinhold, as Ferdinanda again sank back amongst the cushions. "Ghosts, however, are not my favourite companions, particularly on such a bright sunny day. There are so many lovable people in the world--sweet Cilli, for instance. Whatever a man expects he finds."
As though he wished in all haste to make up this morning for any previous neglect, he now tried to fix his thoughts upon the image which he imagined was always present to his mind, but which now he could not call up before his eyes.
"That is all the fault of these crowds," said he angrily.
And certainly they were in a very disagreeable crowd. A regiment with its noisy band was marching down the Friedrichstrasse, cutting across under the trees. The stream of passers-by stood back on both sides, especially near the carriage. Police, mounted and on foot, tried to keep order amongst them with right goodwill, and to keep back the crowds which occasionally expressed their impatience loudly.
Even Ferdinanda seemed to be impatient at the long stoppage. She looked at her watch. "Half-past twelve already," she murmured; "we are losing precious time." At last came the tail of the battalion, just as the head of another left the Friedrichstrasse, with its band playing, and the crowds let free pushed and struggled vehemently against each other in the small space left between.
"Go on! go on, Johann!" cried Ferdinanda, with an eagerness which Reinhold could only attribute to the nervousness she might have felt.
They only came out of one crowd into another.
In the first great square room at the Exhibition, the so-called clock-room, the sight-seeing crowds were so thickly packed that Reinhold, who had Ferdinanda on his arm, saw no possibility of getting any further.
"It is not so full in the next room," said Ferdinanda; "but we must wait a little. They always take care to hang good pictures here. We will go separately, it is always easier to get on. How do you like this beautiful Andreas Achenbach? Is not that perfect? Wonderful! in his best and grandest style! Sky and sea--all in shades of grey, and yet how sharply the different bits stand out. And how well he knows how to bring life into what might seem monotonous by introducing that red flag in the background on the mast of a schooner, and here in the foreground by the flickering light upon the planks of the bridge as the water streams over it. Masterly! quite masterly!"
Reinhold had listened to Ferdinanda's spirited description with the greatest enjoyment. "She can talk about that," thought he. "Well, she certainly is an artist. I can see it all, but could not express it, and should not be able to say why it is so beautiful."
He stood there lost in contemplation of the picture. "What would be the captain's next manœuvre? He certainly must tack to get before the wind, but he was about a ship's-length too near the bridge for that: a puzzling situation!" thought Reinhold.
He turned to express his opinion to Ferdinanda, and very nearly spoke to a little fat old lady who had taken Ferdinanda's place, and with her glass to her eyes was examining the picture together with about a dozen other people, who stood round in a half circle. Reinhold made a fruitless effort to get through them and to join Ferdinanda, whom he saw at some little distance talking to one or two ladies so busily that she never once turned round, and for the moment had evidently forgotten him. "Another advantage of being separate which I will also make use of," thought Reinhold. A picture close by caught his attention--another sea-piece by Hans Gude, so said the catalogue--which pleased him almost better than the first had done. To the left was the open sea, where a large steamer lay at anchor; on the shore, which curved round in a great bay, were to be seen in the distance amongst the sandhills a few fishermen's huts, out of whose chimneys smoke was rising; between the little village and the ship was a rowing-boat, while another quite in the foreground was sailing towards the shore. The evening sky was overcast with heavy clouds above the sandhills, so that the smoke could hardly rise; only to the extreme west of the horizon over the open sea was a small streak of dull red. The night would be stormy, and a sharp breeze was already springing up and blowing the flag of the steamer straight out, and on the bare sands in the foreground the breakers were coming in heavily. Reinhold could not tear himself away from the picture. It was so exactly like that evening when he had steered the boat from the steamer to the shore. There in front the two servants had packed themselves, here sat the President, one hand on the side, the other clutching at the seat, not daring to pick up the covering which had fallen from his knees; here sat the General, with the collar of his coat turned up and his cap pulled far over his face, staring gloomily before him; and here, close to the man who was steering, she sat, gazing out so bravely upon the grey waste of waters and the foaming breakers in front of her, and then looking up so frankly, so happily at him with the dear brown eyes! Reinhold had forgotten the crowd around him, had forgotten Ferdinanda, and did not even see the picture; he only saw those dear brown eyes!
"Will they manage to get to land without a compass, Captain Schmidt?" asked a voice close to him.
The brown eyes were looking at him as he had just seen them in imagination, frank and happy; and the smile, too, was happy which played over cheek and lip as, without the slightest embarrassment, she gave him her hand as to an old friend.
"When did you arrive?"
"Yesterday evening."
"Then certainly you have had no time to inquire for us and to claim your compass. Am I not honesty itself?"
"What use would it be to you?"
"Who can tell? You told me I had a great talent for navigation. But let us get out of this crowd and look for my brother, whom I have just lost. Are you alone?"
"I am with my cousin."
"Then you must introduce me to her. I saw her 'Shepherd Boy' downstairs; it is charming! I have only just heard from my brother that it is your cousin who is the sculptor, and that we are neighbours, and all about it. Where is she?"
"I have been looking for her in vain."
"Now, that is delightful! Two lost children in a forest of people--I am dreadfully frightened!"
She was not a bit frightened, Reinhold could see that. She was in her own world, and was as much at home in it as he was at sea. How cleverly and gracefully she slipped past two ladies who would not make way for her! How carelessly she nodded to the enormously tall officer who made his bow to her from the farthest corner of the room over the heads of several hundred people! How will she manage to talk to Reinhold over her shoulder when he was near, as he followed her with difficulty into the small, narrow passage where the prints and water-colours were hung.
"I saw my brother go in here," said she. "There--no, that is Herr von Saldern. Never mind, we shall find him presently--and your cousin?"
"She is not here either."
"Nor does that signify. She is as little likely to be in want of friends as I am. As we are here, let us have a little chat? Or would you rather look at the pictures? There are some very fine Passinis here."
"I would rather talk."
"There is no better place for talking than the Exhibition during the first few days. People only come to talk and to see their friends after the long summer, when every one is away, and to examine the latest fashions which the bankers' wives and daughters (we army people are not thought much of) have brought from Paris. They have an immense deal to do, and they know the pictures will not run away. My brother tells me you are going to spend the winter here?"
"A few weeks at all events."
"Then of course you will stay longer. You cannot think how amusing Berlin is in the winter--particularly for you, to whom so many circles are open. Your uncle keeps open house--so says my brother, from whom all my information comes. Artists come and go of course when the daughter of the house is an artist, and so beautiful besides! Is she really so beautiful? I am so curious. At home we are very much quieter and rather monotonous, always the same people--officers; but there are some charming men amongst them whom you would like to talk to; and amongst the ladies are several who are very nice and pretty, both married women and girls. Then Fräulein von Strummin is coming--Meta! She swore it a thousand times at least at Golmberg, and has already written half a dozen letters on the subject. She generally writes every day, sometimes twice a day. The last was all about you."
"Now I am getting curious."
"I dare say; but I shall refrain from telling you--you men are quite conceited enough. Papa, too, thinks very highly of you; did you know that?"
"I did not know it; but I do not know anything that would make me prouder."
"Well, only yesterday evening, when Ottomar was telling us of his meeting with you, and that he had known you before in Orleans, he said what a pity it was you had not stayed in the army. You might have done it so easily, and could re-enter it even now."
"Very kind of him, Fräulein von Werben; and during the war I thought so too, and if it had gone on longer--there is no saying; but in time of peace a sub-lieutenant thirty years old! That would never do."
"True! true! But how would it be in the navy? You could rise there, and still keep to your own profession."
"I do certainly wish to remain in it," answered Reinhold, "and therefore I am thinking of accepting the proposal which President von Sanden made to me a few days ago, and which would immediately give me a command."
"A command!" exclaimed Elsa, with astonished eyes.
As superintendent of pilots.
"Oh!"
There was a tone of disappointment in the exclamation which did not escape Reinhold. He continued, smiling:
"That is to say, the superintendence of some dozen or so rough weather beaten seafaring men, and of some dozen tough weather-proof fast-sailing vessels, among which it is to be hoped there will be one or two lifeboats; a humble post, Fräulein von Werben, but not without its merits, and certainly plenty of danger; and taken for all in all, worth while for a man with no great pretensions in life, but who would willingly serve the world with his strength and talents, to give those strength and talents and anything else he may have got to it cheerfully. And I--well, I shall at all events stay in my own profession."
They were standing in a window, rather away from the stream of people who were passing rapidly to and fro in the corridor. Elsa was leaning lightly against the window-sill, and gazing out into the street. Reinhold doubted whether she heard what he said, till rapidly turning her head she answered with her former lively manner:
"You are right, it is your especial profession. Accept the proposal which our old friend has made you! You see you have friends in all directions. And is any special place named yet, if I may ask?"
"Yes, I should be stationed at Wissow."
"At Wissow?"
She clapped her hands together and laughed.
"In our Wissow? Now that is delightful! Then we shall be almost neighbours from Warnow and also from Strummin, if I pay my promised visit to Meta. Then we shall come and you must take us out sailing--quite far out, will you?"
"As far as you like!"
"An honest man is as good as his word! And now we really must set out on our voyage of discovery. Oh, dear! there is Princess Heinrich August with the Princesses! Those unlucky Passinis! She has seen me already, she sees everything at a glance. I dare not go now; but----"
"I will go," said Reinhold.
"Yes, do; that will be better. What, will you not shake hands with me? We shall meet again!"
She gave him her hand, which Reinhold held fast for a moment; she was already looking towards the Princess. He went down the corridor. As he looked back for a moment from the entrance, he saw Elsa making a deep courtesy to the Princess, who stood still and spoke to her.
"How will she explain it," thought Reinhold. "She cannot say that she was talking in the window to a Superintendent of pilots that is to be!"
Ferdinanda only stood talking to her friends in the clock-room till she thought that Reinhold, who had repeatedly turned round to look for her, had forgotten her for the moment, and had given himself up to the study of the picture. Then she bowed to the two ladies, and allowed herself to be carried along by a stream of people who were going into the next room, waited a moment to be certain that Reinhold was not following her, and then walked quickly away with the air of a person looking for her lost companion, and who has therefore only a slight nod for any acquaintance she may meet, through this room and the skylight room into the fourth room, and out of these into the long suite of small rooms which from here led back to the chief room, and into which even during the first few days visitors rarely came.
Even to-day it was comparatively empty, only here and there isolated individuals, who with fleeting curiosity examined the pictures, never stopping long, and casting a look of astonishment at an officer who did not seem to be able to tear himself away from a very indifferent landscape. At last his interest seemed appeased; he walked rapidly away, when again his attention was attracted to a picture close to the entrance. It was the same picture before which Ferdinanda had stopped. The light was so unfavourable that there was only one spot from which the picture could be properly seen. So the officer was obliged to stand quite close to the lady, and in so doing he trod on her dress.
"I beg your pardon," he said aloud, and then in a low voice, which only reached her ear, "Do not turn round till I tell you; speak into the corner; no one will observe it. First of all let me thank you!"
"Why?"
"For coming here."
"I only came to tell you that I will bear it no longer."
"Have I nothing to bear?"
"No, not in comparison with me."
"I love you as you love me."
"Prove it."
"How?"
"By deeds, and not words."
"With my hands tied?"
"Break the bonds that hold you!"
"I cannot."
"Good-bye."
She turned to the door through which she had come; he forgot all caution, and stood in her way. They confronted each other, their eyes meeting.
"Ferdinanda!"
"Let me go!"
"You must hear me! for God's sake, Ferdinanda! Such an opportunity as this may not occur again for weeks!"
She laughed scornfully. "We have plenty of time."
Again she tried to pass him; he still stood in her way.
"Ferdinanda!"
"Once again let me go! You wish for an opportunity? You will perhaps never have so good a one of getting rid of me."
He stood back with a bow; she could have gone if she pleased, but she did not go; the hot tears had started into her eyes, she did not dare to meet people so, and turned back to the picture, where he immediately took his original position.
"Be kind, Ferdinanda! I have so looked forward to this hour. Why do you embitter the moments so precious to both of us? You know, you must know that I am prepared to go all lengths if it must be. But we cannot take the final step without considering everything."
"We have been considering for the last six months."
"With the garden wall between us, and in words which were only half understood, in letters where one cannot express what one wants. That is no use. You must meet me somewhere, as I have so often entreated. Am I never to take your hand in mine, never to press my lips against yours? and you ask for a proof of my love!"
She went up to his side and gazed into the beautiful, restless hazel eyes. Still more beautiful and darker eyes had gazed at her like that a few hours ago, and with more passionate warmth. She had been able to withstand them, these she could not withstand. The eyelashes fell upon her burning cheeks.
"I can not," she stammered.
"Say I will not, I have made innumerable suggestions to you. Only the other day I got introduced to your brother at the Club. He was delighted to make my acquaintance, pressed me to visit him, to come and see his pictures. How easily we could meet there."
"I dare not go and see my brother. I have not dared to go for a long time, and now after last night!"
"Then your cousin! Of course he will come and see us? I shall return the visit. Your father cannot turn me away from the door!"
"I have already thought of that and prepared him. But in that case it could only be for a very few minutes."
"Then I will think of something else, if only I knew what you would like; I will find something and write to you, or I should prefer telling you whenever you give me the signal."
"I dare not do it again."
"Why?"
"There is some one who watches every step I take. I am not safe from him for one moment--Antonio--I have told you about him; I am afraid."
"You are afraid of everything."
He turned quickly and impatiently towards the window near which he stood. At the same moment a handsome, remarkably smartly-dressed young man disappeared from the door at the other end of the gallery, where he had stood for the last few minutes, so placed that by bending a little to the left he could easily see the couple in the window with his dark, eagle eyes, without much danger of being seen himself. If necessary he had only to withdraw into the crowd which filled the large neighbouring room. He had seen enough now, and mingled again with the throng.
When Ottomar, after looking out of window for a few seconds, turned to speak to Ferdinanda the words of reconciliation which were on his lips and in his heart, her place was empty.
Ferdinanda could not help it. The acquaintances with whom she had before spoken had passed the door of the next room, close to which she stood, and luckily without seeing her. But they were standing quite close to the door, the dress of one of them was still in sight. At any moment they might turn into the gallery if she did not go forward to meet them and keep them till Ottomar, who would of course understand it all, should himself leave the gallery by the other side. And if he did not understand--so much the worse for him. Then it would all be over--better to-day than to-morrow if it must be!
But Ottomar had observed nothing, had not seen the two ladies, had not even seen Ferdinanda, who, to get out of the way of the people in the door, had been obliged to go a step or two into the room, and was now speaking to her friends. She had left him without a word of farewell or explanation.
"By heaven, that is rather strong!" said he, biting his lips and pulling his small dark moustache. "Well, as she pleases!" And he rapidly left the gallery and went through the same door where the handsome young man had stood into the large room.
Here, meanwhile, the crowd had, if possible increased. Besides the Princess Heinrich August, various other princely personages had appeared with their suites, for whom at all events room had to be made. The result was that in some places the curious sightseers were so crowded together that any movement was hardly possible. It was the same in the last of the set of rooms. Two ladies had placed themselves upon one of the few sofas of which the Exhibition could boast. Near them stood a gentleman whose absent and fatigued expression plainly showed how glad he would be to sit down also. He stood first on one leg, then on the other, and cast from time to time an irritable glance at the two ladies, one of whom, who seemed a few years older than the other, but, notwithstanding her being rather too large, was the handsomest, leaned languidly back in her corner, while the younger and slighter one incessantly turned her eye-glasses from side to side, never moving them from her eyes.
"When you are enough rested, I think we will go," said the gentleman.
"I see no possibility of getting out," replied the stout lady, without changing her comfortable attitude.
"It really is intensely interesting," said the other, "quite too interesting. Who is that man, Edward?"
The glasses had turned in another direction.
"What man?"
"There--by the Emperor's portrait, with the fair moustache and bright colour--a country gentleman, I am sure. I fancy I have seen him before."
"By Jove, that is Golm!" exclaimed the gentleman, rousing from his indifference.
"Count Golm! quite true!" said the lady. "This really is quite too interesting! Bring him here at once, Edward!"
But the Count had already observed the party and came up to them eagerly, holding out both hands to the other gentleman, who went forward a few steps to meet him.
"My dear Wallbach, I am delighted to see you!"
"How long have you been here?"
"Since yesterday evening; will you introduce me to the ladies?"
"My wife--my sister Carla----"
"I had the pleasure two winters ago; but----"
"Oh, we have better memories in Berlin than you seem to give us credit for, Count Golm," cried Carla, "especially for gentlemen who make themselves so scarce. Why did we not see you last winter?"
"I was in Italy, Fräulein von Wallbach, and in Paris."
"Oh, that dear dear Paris! We have not been there for an eternity; the last time was the year before the war. They say it has not altered at all, but I cannot believe it. Then there was such a brilliant court--and now--c'est désolant! But sit down by us; there is room if we sit closer together." Carla drew aside her voluminous skirts.
"I am afraid of being in your way," said the Count, but sat down in the place so readily made for him, while Herr von Wallbach glanced despairingly at his varnished boots.
"We have been talking immensely about you this last few days," said Carla. "Dear Elsa! she is so enchanted with Golmberg, it must really be a perfect paradise. Is not Elsa enchanting? We all spoil her here, Ottomar says, and he spoils her more than any one."
"Who is Ottomar, if I may ask?"
"Herr von Werben!" said Wallbach, casting a glance of displeasure upon Carla, "the Lieutenant."
"Oh, his name is Ottomar!" said the Count.
"Our families are so very intimate," said Herr von Wallbach. "My poor brother, you know, fell at the siege of Paris by Von Werben's side."
"True! true! I remember," said the Count, who knew nothing about it.
"And naturally that increased our intimacy," said Carla. "Sorrow always brings people closer together," and she compressed still further the ample folds of her dress.
"True! true!" said the Count. "Sorrow--and happiness too."
"Ah, you are a philosopher! I love philosophy! Schopenhauer gave me the most intense pleasure. Are you not enchanted with Hartmann?"
"Who may that be?" thought the Count; and aloud he said, "Certainly--at least----"
"Then you do not know him, at least thoroughly; I know him by heart. There are only three men now to be studied, and studied again and again--Bismarck, Hartmann, and Wagner. The politics of the present, the music of the future, opened out to us by the philosophy of the unknown; in them you see the stamp of this century."
"I am quite anxious to make Herr von Werben's acquaintance," said the Count, by way of taking part in the conversation.
"Quand on parle du loup--mon Dieu! he really does look like a wolf," cried Carla, whose ever busy eye-glasses had perceived Ottomar the moment he appeared in the room, with the anger and displeasure at Ferdinanda's supposed flight still apparent in his troubled looks and gloomy eyes.
"He has been looking for you, Carla," said Frau von Wallbach, opening her lips for the first time.
"Pray do not call attention so openly to what is by no means settled yet," whispered Herr von Wallbach in her ear.
"What, not yet?" said Frau von Wallbach in an indifferent tone.
Herr von Wallbach shrugged his shoulders, then turned with a smile towards Ottomar, who was working his way in and out till he finally arrived at the party in the window.
"That is right, my dear Werben; we have been expecting you a long time."
"I must apologise," said Ottomar; "I have lost Elsa--been looking for her this half hour. Pray do not be angry with me, Frau von Wallbach, nor you, Fräulein Carla."
"Good-morning," said Carla, without moving her glasses from her eyes. "Who is that, Louise? Frau von Elmar? on her husband's arm? impossible!"
Ottomar had not written during the three days he had been away shooting--not a line--and he must be punished for it. Besides, since her approaching engagement with the smart Guardsman had become known, she had not found it so easy to fascinate other young men as before. The Count was fresh from the country, and could very easily play the part required of him for a day or two. "Count Golm!"
"Yes." The Count, whom Herr von Werben had just introduced to Ottomar, turned round.
"Look, Count Golm! That young lady in the lovely blue dress--that is Frau von Elmar, who had that affair with Count Wolkonski, the attaché at the Russian Embassy, two winters ago. Don't you know the story? You must hear it. Sit down again by me!"
"I thought we were just going!" said Herr von Wallbach.
"One moment," said Carla.
Herr von Wallbach shrugged his shoulders. He considered the game Carla was playing, and which he quite saw through, utterly misplaced. Ottomar's face was dark enough already, so dark indeed that he considered a word of excuse necessary. "She is still such a child," he whispered, with a side-glance at Carla. "You must not be angry with her."
"I am not angry with her."
"Then something else has vexed you," continued Wallbach, drawing Ottomar aside. "You really ought to leave Berlin for a time, this idle time of peace does not suit you. And I have already spoken to the Minister; he does not include you in his differences with your father. In fact he wishes that you should accept this post, only he also wishes for particular reasons not to have any more unmarried attachés there. You see, my dear Werben, I am open with you, and you will not mind that. Be so yourself, and show that you are in earnest! Believe me we shall all be better and happier--you and I and Carla. You cannot be surprised if at last we are getting a little impatient."
"No; I am impatient enough myself."
"Then we shall be quite d'accord, and if you agree--hush! Princess Heinrich August!"
The Princess had come into the room, and had got to the opposite corner without being observed by the group in the window, and now moved on, the crowd respectfully making way, rapidly examining the pictures and sometimes talking to Elsa over her shoulder. The group on the sofa got up hastily and bowed low.
"Now we are all together," said the great lady with kindly friendliness. "Here, you most unfaithful of brothers, is your sister! The company in which we find you must be your excuse. How are you, my dear Carla? You have not shown yourself out riding for three days. I always feel there is something wanting when you do not once canter past my carriage on your black horse. But he has been faithless to you too. Shooting--gentlemen are always shooting! I advise you to beware! You ought to ride too, my dear Wallbach! it would certainly do you good; my daughters begin next year. I should ride myself if--ah! Count Golm! What brings you from your lonely island to our dusty town? Certainly roses bloom here also. Fräulein von Werben has told me the adventure she had at Golmberg--quite romantic! I always say truth is stranger than fiction. Shall you stop here long, my dear Count? You must tell me the whole story. I take a great interest in your island, where I spent a delightful week last autumn. How is Prince Prora? Your little castle of Golmberg is said to stand in a still better position than his celebrated hunting-place. Perhaps you will all accompany me for a short time? Stay by me, dear Elsa! Then how long do you stay, my dear Count?"
The Princess moved away. The crowd which had formed a semicircle at a respectful distance, watching the great lady's interview with the group in the window, as hearing was not possible, opened out and then spread over the room in chattering groups.
"What a pretty woman!"
"Who were the people with whom she talked so long and so graciously?"
After happily saving Fräulein von Werben from the danger of being caught by the Princess talking confidentially with a merchant-captain, Reinhold had returned through the gallery and second room to the clock-room, in the assured hope of finding his cousin still there. But in vain did he turn his sharp eyes in all directions, plunging boldly over the long trains of the ladies, if he saw a brown velvet dress in the far distance.
After all she could not be far off, and in fact it was more that she had left him in the lurch than that he had left her. But still his uneasiness did not decrease when he got to the skylight-room without finding her. He stood still, doubting whether he should go on or return, when a hand, encased in a yellow kid glove, touched his shoulder.
"At last I have found you!"
"Philip!" exclaimed Reinhold, turning round and giving his hand to his cousin.
"Where is Ferdinanda?"
Reinhold explained his mishap.
"Then we will look for her together," said Philip. "I have just come out of the middle room, and she was not there; perhaps she is in one of the last rooms."
He linked his arm in Reinhold's with the familiarity of a cousin and intimate friend. Reinhold was agreeably touched, and a little ashamed that in the quarrel between father and son he was conscious of having already taken the side of the former.
"I really am pleased to see you," said he.
"I don't doubt the reality," answered Philip, laughing, "and only hope the pleasure will last; at any rate, at least fifty per cent. of the happiness falls to my share. It is always a good thing to know that the old man has got a sensible fellow to talk to; and he has always thought very highly of you--probably only to irritate me; but I don't mind that."
"I am so new to this state of affairs, my dear Philip----"
"Diplomatic? you need not try that with me. I am a straightforward, honest fellow, always speaking out what I have in my heart--a foolish habit; it is just what the old man has never forgiven me. He will not listen to the truth; the whole world must dance to his pipe--and a pretty world it would be, heaven knows!"
"But he has already created a little world of his own. I must confess that his manufactory----"
"Is very fine. He has just been pretty lucky--that is all, I assure you! Think what any other man might have done who held his cards! But he never knows what are trumps for the moment, and cannot forgive another man understanding it better. What has he told you about me?"
"Nothing--on my honour."
"It will come. But I warn you not to believe a word. He looks upon me as an egotist, a gambler, a speculator, a cut-throat--I don't know what not! And why? Because I am ten times richer than he is; because I could put his whole marble trade into my pocket without feeling it; because I--in a word, because I have been successful. I believe in Bismarck, whom he hates like sin. Bismarck is my man; I swear by Bismarck; I would go through thick and thin for Bismarck. He knows what he is about, and how to do it."
Philip sometimes raised his already loud voice till all the bystanders could hear him as well as Reinhold himself; and even when he spoke lower, his lively eyes penetrated the crowd, in which every moment he greeted some acquaintance with a wave of the gloved hand, or a familiar nod of the head, or sometimes with "How are you?" "All right?" "Morning--morning," and such broken sentences.
"Shall you never come back to your father's house?" asked Reinhold.
"No. Why should I?"
"Now, Philip! As if it were the most natural thing in the world for a son never to enter his father's house!"
"Natural! What do you mean by natural? I call it natural for a man of my years not to allow himself to be treated like a foolish boy. At the same time, I have no principles concerned in the matter, just now less than ever. Only get me an invitation!"
"I will try, on one condition."
"Well?"
"That you do not abuse your father in my presence."
Philip laughed.
"You are too particular, my dear Reinhold; in these times, neither men nor things must be handled with silk gloves, or you are apt to get a fall before you are aware. Bismarck does not do that; he grips fast."
"Many things are allowed in politics which are unbecoming in common life."
"Oh, we have got beyond all that! On the contrary, we have, thank heaven! arrived at the conviction that, in any circumstances, every advantage may be taken. Just look at that little dark man with the great fat wife. Two years ago he was a wretched little stock-jobber, who did not know from day to day what he had to live on. Now he has got two millions, and if the 'New' Kaiser-König Iron Company--which is started tomorrow--pays, he will have three millions this year. The 'Old' stand at 135. I myself am deeply interested, and reckon upon a dividend of at least 25. I can get you some shares if you like."
"I do not know what I should buy them with."
"You must have made a good lot of money."
"I have laid by a small sum, which I should like to keep."
"Prudence is the mother of wisdom--and the grandmother of poverty."
"Then I am her legitimate grandson."
Philip suddenly drew his arm out of Reinhold's, who thought he had annoyed him by his last remark; but it was only to stand erect and take off his hat to the Princess, who, with her suite, was passing by. Reinhold, who was pushed aside by people getting in front of him, could see the whole party perfectly without being seen himself--the Princess chatting sometimes with Elsa, who was walking on her left side, and sometimes with Count Golm, who was a little behind her on the right; then various ladies and gentlemen, and amongst the latter Ottomar, talking busily to a lady. The subject of their talk seemed to be amusing, as she laughed incessantly behind her eye-glasses, which never left her eyes.
A curious sensation came over Reinhold. His former flight had something absurd about it from the haste with which it had to be made, and he had himself laughed heartily about it afterwards. Now he could not laugh. In the midst of this respectful, bowing crowd, as it made room for the Princess, he felt the difference of the social position between himself and the young lady who moved at her side to be quite another thing to what he had thought before. He belonged to the crowd, not, as she did, to that select circle--she and Count Golm! Had he made the journey back with them? Did he follow her? What did it matter?--a Count Golm had but to come!
He turned with a secret sigh, and close behind him saw Ferdinanda. She did not see him; her eyes, like every one else's, were turned on the Princess's party, with a fixedness which curiosity alone could not explain. Was it displeasure at being so long alone that he saw in the beautiful gloomy face?
"Ferdinanda!"
She started as if awaking from a dream. A deep glow spread over her cheeks. Reinhold excused himself as well as he could. Philip joined them.
"Did you see her? Beautiful woman! I am quite in love with her. The little Werben girl seems marvellously intimate with her. The man on the other side, I hear, was Count Golm, grand seigneur, but over head and ears in debt. Now is the time to save himself if he is clever. I hope soon we shall do some business together in grand style; don't know him personally--know his signature very well. And did you see young Werben, Ferdinanda, with Fräulein von Wallbach? It must be all right there--not a bad match; she is worth about a hundred thousand; and her brother, who manages her property, was there too--there, Reinhold--with rather a bald head, he is not half a bad fellow; and young Werben himself--well, just now he is rather shaky, but no doubt he will pick up again."
"Shall we go?" said Ferdinanda.
She stepped forward without waiting for any answer, and rather to Reinhold's horror, right in front of the Princess and her party. The Princess had, however, again stopped to accost some other important people who had just arrived. Her attendants had stepped back a little, and were conversing together in low tones, and so it was to be hoped that they might slip through unperceived, but just as he was crossing he caught Elsa's eye, and she nodded to him so cordially, and indeed heartily, that Count Golm, whose attention was attracted, half turned, and certainly recognised him, although his light eyes instead of greeting him, slightly fell, and immediately looked in another direction; but Reinhold had not observed that Ottomar, who had also turned, bowed to Ferdinanda, whose dress touched him, with polite indifference, and immediately continued his interrupted conversation with Fräulein von Wallbach with increased earnestness, while Ferdinanda returned his bow with a blank, fixed look.
But the scene had not escaped some one else's eyes, the dark, gleaming, fiery eyes of the handsome young man, who had already observed from afar the rendezvous in the gallery. He had been standing now in the very centre of the dark wall of the room leaning against one of the columns, and suddenly came forward and stood before the two as they were going.
"Thank heaven I have found you at last, signora," said he in his soft voice, which seemed to tremble a little from breathless haste. "I have looked for you everywhere, to tell you that Signor Anders has not been able to wait downstairs any longer. He was obliged to keep an appointment which was settled for two o'clock."
"So much the better," answered Ferdinanda; "I was just starting to go home."
"It is a pity!" said Philip. "I wanted to hear your opinion of a wonderful young Bacchus by Müller; Herr Anders has not yet sold his 'Satyr;' I am doubting between the two, perhaps I shall buy both, and your 'Shepherd Boy' too, Ferdinanda, if you will only put a decent price on it."
"Are you coming with us, Antonio?" asked Ferdinanda impatiently.
"I think I will stay a little longer," answered the Italian, hesitating.
"Very well. Come. Addio, Signer Antonio!"
"Addio, signora!"
The Italian remained in the door between the second room and the clock-room, his black eyes following the receding figures till they disappeared through the entrance; then they turned back upon the second room, and remained fixed upon Ottomar with a look of deadly hate.
"Now I know from whom the letters are which she so often reads! You shall pay for it, per Bacco!" he murmured between his white teeth.