In the house of the Prussian Ambassador everything was in a state of preparation for the winter festivities. When Wallmoden had entered his present position, in the spring, society was already scattered in all directions for the summer, and immediately afterward occurred the sad event which had put an end to all festivities for them. These causes, however, were done with now.
The many halls and apartments of the Ambassador's palace had been furnished with such splendor as Herbert's circumstances, made brilliant by his marriage, permitted; and it was his intention to have as magnificent a home as was possible to obtain. Their first grand reception was to take place next week, and in the meantime numerous calls were being made and returned.
The Ambassador was also much occupied with his official duties, and, besides, there was one thing which ruined his peace of mind completely--the success of Arivana. If he had had doubts before about opposing Rojanow's publicity, it had now become quite impossible. The "adventurer" was raised upon the shield and his poetical spirit was being praised everywhere. The Court and society generally could not be forced now to drop him without subjecting themselves to mortification, and it was questionable, besides, if they would drop him at all, since only hints and vague remarks could be given. That grand success had made Hartmut almost unapproachable.
To add to the embarrassment of the Ambassador's position, Falkenried's arrival was expected in the near future, from whom the truth could not be kept, for fear he should hear it from outsiders.
The Colonel, of whose present trip nothing was known when Wallmoden had seen him in Berlin a short time ago, would be here in a few days and would make his headquarters at the Ambassador's palace, since he was no stranger to Adelaide. She and her brother had, in a measure, grown up under his eyes.
When, ten years ago, the then Major Falkenried had been removed to the distant province, he had been stationed at a post in the small town lying in the immediate vicinity of the great Stahlberg works and dependent almost entirely upon them. The new Major was considered an excellent soldier, but a pronounced man-hater, who enjoyed his duties only, occupying all his spare time with military studies, and who hated everything that came under the head of society.
As he was alone, he was excused from keeping an open house, and he exhibited himself only at houses where his position imperatively demanded it. Such consideration had to be shown the great manufacturer, who was the leader of the whole vicinity, and who received and entertained as guests the first and highest personages.
Stahlberg had been the only one whom the military man approached. Although the grave and gloomy reticence of the Major excluded real friendship, yet the two men felt the highest esteem for each other, and the Stahlberg home was the only place where Falkenried appeared occasionally of his own free will.
He had had intercourse there for years and seen the two children grow up. Therefore Wallmoden was the more offended that Falkenried did not attend his wedding, but excused himself through pressure of official duties.
Adelaide knew little or nothing about the life of the Colonel. She considered him childless and heard only from her husband that he had been married early in life, but had been separated from his wife and was now a widower.
It was about a week after the return of the Wallmodens that Falkenried's arrival was announced to the young wife as she sat one day at her writing table. She threw aside her pen, arose quickly and hastened to her friend.
"You are heartily welcome, Colonel Falkenried. We received your telegram, and Herbert intended to meet you at the depot, but just at this hour he has an audience with the Duke, and is still at the palace, so we could only send the carriage."
Her greeting had all the cordiality which an old friend of her father's could wish, but Falkenried's response was not of a like kind. Coldly and seriously he accepted the offered hand and the invitation to be seated, as he thanked her for her welcome.
The Colonel had indeed changed, so much as scarcely to be recognized. Were it not for the tall, muscular form and strong, firm carriage, one could have taken him for an old man. His hair--the hair of a man barely fifty years old--was white as snow, the brow furrowed deeply, and sharp lines were buried in the face, making it look ten years older. The features, once so expressive, appeared fixed and immovable now; the entire appearance and bearing bespoke stern, impenetrable reticence.
Regine's words, "The man is turned to stone," were only too true. One involuntarily gained the impression that he had become a total stranger to the world, and that all mankind had died off for aught that moved him--nothing was left except the duties of his vocation.
"Perhaps I have disturbed you, Ada," he said, using her old home name as he glanced at the writing table where lay a half-finished letter.
"There is plenty of time for that," replied the young wife, lightly. "I was only writing to Eugene."
"Ah? I am the bearer of love from your brother. I saw him the day before yesterday."
"I knew that he intended going to Berlin and to see you. He has not seen you for nearly two years now, and I, too, saw but little of you during our journey through Berlin. We hoped you would come to Burgsdorf, where we stayed for a few days, and I believe that Regine felt very hurt that you did not accept her invitation for this time, either."
The Colonel looked to the floor; he knew why he avoided Burgsdorf and its reminiscences. He had hardly been there twice since his return to the Capital.
"Regine knows how economical I have to be with my time," he replied, evasively. "But, to return to your brother, Ada; I should like to speak to you, and therefore I am glad to find you alone. What is the difficulty between Eugene and his brother-in-law? Has something happened to alienate them?"
A certain embarrassment was visible in Adelaide's face at the question, but she answered lightly:
"Nothing especial; the two are not very congenial."
"Not very congenial? Wallmoden is nearly forty years his senior, and his guardian besides. Your brother will not be of age for several years. In such case the younger one must submit unconditionally."
"Certainly; but Eugene, although as good as gold, is only too often rash and passionate as he has always been."
"Alas, so he is. He will have to change considerably if he wishes to fill, half as well as his father did, the important and responsible position which awaits him. But something else seems to be the trouble here. I made a casual remark about your marriage, Ada--which event, to tell the truth, surprised me, although I am on friendly terms with your husband--and said that I had not thought you had so much ambition; but at this Eugene burst out and defended you in the most passionate manner, and spoke of a sacrifice which his sister had made for him. In short, he allowed himself to be carried away into words and hints which surprised me in the highest degree."
"You should not have paid any attention to it," said Adelaide, with visible emotion. "A young, hot head takes everything tragically. What did he tell you?"
"In fact, nothing definite. He seems to have given you his word to keep silent and not speak without your permission; but he seems to almost hate his brother-in-law. What does all this mean?"
The young wife was silent; the conversation seemed painful to her in the highest degree.
Falkenried looked at her searchingly as he continued: "You know it is not my way to inquire into the secrets of others. I take but little interest in the doings of people around me, but my friend's honor comes into consideration here; those remarks contain a crimination. Of course, I could not allow that, but when I remonstrated with your brother and threatened to speak to Wallmoden about it, he said: 'My Herr brother-in-law will explain the affair diplomatically to you. He has proved a very diplomat in it all. Ask Ada if you wish to learn the truth.' I ask you first, therefore; but if you cannot and will not answer, then I must speak to your husband, from whom I cannot keep such remarks."
He spoke in a cold and measured tone, without any excitement. The affair, apparently, caused him no interest whatever. He considered it necessary to take it up solely because a point of honor came in question.
"Do not speak to Herbert about it, I beg of you," interrupted Adelaide, quickly. "I shall have to explain to you, since Eugene allowed himself to be carried away so far; but he has taken the matter too hard from the beginning. There is nothing dishonorable about it."
"I hope so, since Wallmoden is concerned," said the Colonel, with emphasis.
The young Baroness lowered her voice and evaded the eyes of her listener as she commenced.
"You know that my engagement happened a year ago at Florence. My father was even then very ailing, and the physicians desired that he should remain in Italy during the winter. We went to Florence, intending to stay two months, and then make further plans according to the wish of the invalid. My brother had accompanied us, but was to return home at the beginning of winter.
"We took a villa outside the city, and, of course, lived quite secluded. Eugene saw Italy for the first time, and it was so mournful for him to sit day after day in the lonely sick room, that I seconded his request to go to Rome for a short time. He finally received permission. Oh, if I had never done it! But I could not know how deeply his inexperience would involve him then."
"That means that he followed up adventures, although his father was at death's door."
"Do not judge so harshly. My brother was scarcely twenty years old then, and had always lived under the eyes of a loving but very strict father. The short freedom proved dangerous to him. The young German, who had no knowledge of the world whatever, was enticed into circles where high--and as it was afterward proved--false gambling was the order of the day, and where a number of bad, but outwardly charming, elements met. Eugene, in his ignorance, did not understand it, and lost heavily, until suddenly the party was raided by the police. The Italians defended themselves, and it ended in a fight, into which Eugene, too, was drawn. He only defended himself, but he had the misfortune to injure a policeman severely, and was arrested with the others."
The Colonel had listened silently, with impassive face, and his voice was as harsh as before as he said: "And Stahlberg had to live to see this of his son, who had been a model until then?"
"He never heard of it; it was only a momentary losing of one's self--a case of one misled, rather than guilty, and it will not happen again. Eugene has given me his word of honor for that."
Falkenried laughed so scornfully that his companion looked at him in consternation.
"His word of honor! Yes, why not? That is given as easily as it is broken. Are you truly so trusting as to believe in the word of such a young lad?"
"Yes, that I am," asserted Adelaide, in an injured tone, while her eyes, earnest and reproachful, met the gaze of the man whose awful bitterness she could not explain. "I know my brother. In spite of this escapade, he is the son of his father, and he will keep his word to me and to himself--I know it."
"It is well for you if you can still believe and trust. I have long forgotten how," said Falkenried, in a low but milder tone. "And what happened then?"
"My brother succeeded in being allowed to send me word immediately. 'Keep it from father, it would be his death,' he wrote. I knew better than he did that our desperately ill father could not stand such news. But we were alone in a foreign country, without friends or acquaintances, and help had to be had instantly. In this extremity I thought of Herr von Wallmoden, who at the time was at the embassy at Florence. We had known him slightly before, and he had called directly after our arrival and placed himself at our command, should we need the help of the Ambassador. He had come to our house frequently, and now hastened to me immediately upon receiving my request. I told him all, and trusted him, beseeching his advice and help--and received it."
"At what price?" demanded the Colonel, with darkly contracted brows.
Adelaide shook her head.
"No, no; it is not as you think--as Eugene also believed. I was not forced. Herbert gave me free choice, although he did not hide from me that the occurrence was much worse than I feared; that those sums lost in play must, nevertheless, be paid if one wished to keep the affair from publicity; that, in spite of all, it might get into the courts, on account of the injury to the policeman. He explained to me that he might be brought into a wrong light if he mixed himself up in such affairs. 'You desire me to save your brother,' said he; 'perhaps I can do it, but I jeopardize my position--my whole future thereby. One makes such a sacrifice, perhaps, only for his own brother, or--his brother-in-law."
Falkenried arose suddenly and took a turn through the room. Then he stood still before the young wife and said, in angry tones: "And you, of course, believed that in your anxiety?"
"Do you mean that it was not so?" asked Adelaide, startled.
He shrugged his shoulders with a half-contemptuous expression.
"Possibly. I do not know these diplomatic reasons. I know only one thing; Wallmoden has, indeed, proved himself a great diplomat in the whole affair. What did you answer him?"
"I asked for time to think, everything had burst so upon me. But I knew, that no moment was to be lost, and that same evening I gave Herbert the right to act--for his brother-in-law."
"Of course," muttered the Colonel, with deep disdain; "the wise, shrewd Herbert!"
"He obtained leave of absence immediately, and went to Rome," continued the young Baroness, "returning in a week, accompanied by my brother. He had succeeded in freeing Eugene and withdrawing him from the whole affair. Even the newspapers did not mention the name of the young German who had been involved in it. I do not know by what means it was done. If one has powerful friends and does not need to spare money, much is possible. Herbert had spent money lavishly on all sides and had brought into use every advantage made possible to him through his long years of diplomatic work. He also cancelled the gambling debts, although with his own bond. He told me later that he had given half his fortune for that purpose."
"It was very magnanimous, since by this sacrifice he won a cool million. And what did Eugene say to this--trade?"
"He knew nothing of it, and soon returned to Germany, as had been decided at first. From that time Herbert came to our house daily and knew how to prepossess my sick father so well, that father finally felt a desire for the union himself. Only then did Herbert begin his wooing. I was grateful to him for giving it this turn, only Eugene was not deceived. He guessed everything, and forced the truth from me. Since then he has tortured himself with self-reproach and almost feels hostility toward his brother-in-law, in spite of my repeated assurance that I have never had cause to rue that step, and that I have in Herbert the most attentive and considerate husband."
Falkenried's eyes rested intently upon the face of the young wife, as if he wished to read her most secret thoughts.
"Are you happy?" he asked, slowly.
"I am content."
"That is much in this life," said the Colonel in the old, harsh tone. "We were not born to be happy. I have done you wrong, Ada. I believed the splendor of a high position, the desire to play a first rôle in society as wife of the Ambassador, had made you Frau von Wallmoden, but--I am glad that t judged you wrongly."
He stretched forth his hand. Some expression was now in the icy gaze and an apology in the grasp of the hand.
"You know everything now," concluded Adelaide, with a deep breath, "and I beg that you will not touch upon the subject before Herbert. You see, there was nothing dishonorable in his dealings. I repeat to you that he used neither force nor persuasion. I was forced only by the power of circumstances. I could not expect that he would make such sacrifices for a stranger."
"If a lady had sought me in such anxiety, I would have made the sacrifices--unconditionally," declared Falkenried.
"Yes, you! I would have followed you also with a lighter heart."
The avowal betrayed, unconsciously, how hard had been the struggle which the young wife had not mentioned by a word. But she spoke the truth.
She would much rather have given herself to the gloomy, reticent man, with his harsh and often offensive manner, if the sacrifice had to be made, than to the ever polite and attentive husband, who, in the face of her extremity--had traded with it.
"You would have had a hard lot then, Ada," said the Colonel, with a grave shake of the head. "I am one of the men who cannot give or receive anything more in this life. I have finished with it long ago. But you are right; it is better to let that subject remain untouched between Wallmoden and me, for if I wished to tell him my true opinion about it--well, he will always be a diplomat."
Adelaide arose, breaking off the conversation, and tried to assume a lighter tone.
"And now let me take you to your rooms at last. You must be exhausted by the long trip."
"No, a single night's journey will not tire a soldier. Duty makes harsher demands than that on us."
He drew himself up straight and firm; one could see that his physical strength was yet unbroken. Those muscles and sinews seemed like steel. It was the features alone that bore the mark of age.
The eyes of the Baroness lingered upon them thoughtfully, especially upon the brow which was so deeply and heavily furrowed and yet was formed so high and powerful under the white hair.
It seemed to her as if she had seen that brow somewhere else, under dark locks; but there could not be a sharper contrast than between this too early aged, care-lined face and that youthful head with the foreign, southern beauty and the uncanny light in the eyes. Yet it had been the same brow over which the lightnings had flamed on that lonely forest height; the same high, powerful curve; even the blue veins which were so pronounced at the temples--a strange, incomprehensible likeness!
After some hours the two friends were alone together in Wallmoden's study. The latter had just made the unavoidable as well as painful disclosure. He had told the Colonel under what circumstances Rojanow was in the city, and had unveiled to him uncompromisingly everything he knew of Hartmut's life and that of his mother, finally informing him of her death.
He had feared this hour, but the result was quite different from what he had expected. Mutely Falkenried leaned against the window with folded arms and listened to the long explanations, without interrupting by a word or gesture. His face remained cold and impassive; no quiver, no motion betrayed that he heard those things which must bring anguish to his heart. He was now also "a man of stone."
"I believed I owed these explanations to you," concluded the Ambassador finally. "If I have kept what I knew of the fate of the two from you so long, it was done solely that you might not be tortured unnecessarily with what was hard enough for you to overcome. But you had to learn now what has happened, and how matters stand at present."
The Colonel retained his position and his voice betrayed no mental excitement as he replied:
"I thank you for your good will, but you could have spared yourself these explanations. What is that adventurer to me?"
Wallmoden looked up amazed; he had not expected such a response.
"I thought it necessary to prepare you for the possibility of meeting him," he returned. "As you have heard, Rojanow now plays an important rôle; he is celebrated everywhere. The Duke is deeply wrapped up in him. You might meet him at the castle."
"And what then? I do not know anybody by the name of Rojanow, and he will not dare to know me. We should pass each other as strangers."
The Ambassador's gaze rested searchingly upon Falkenried's features as if to fathom this real coldness or incomprehensible self-command.
"I thought you would receive the news of the reappearance of your son very differently," he said, half aloud.
For the first time he intentionally used this title; hitherto he had merely said Rojanow. But now, for the first time also, an emotion was visible in the calm figure at the window. But it was an emotion of anger.
"I have no son--remember that, Wallmoden. He died to me that night at Burgsdorf, and the dead do not rise."
Wallmoden was silent; the Colonel approached him and laid his hand heavily upon his arm.
"You said just now that it was your duty to enlighten the Duke, and that you had not done so solely out of consideration for me. I have, indeed, but one thing to guard in the world--the honor of my name--which, through that exposition, would be at the mercy of the world's raillery and scorn. Do what you think you must do--I shall not hinder you. But--I shall also do what I have to do."
His voice sounded as cold as before, but it contained something so awful that the Ambassador started up in affright.
"Falkenried, for heaven's sake, what do you mean? How am I to interpret those words?"
"As you like. You diplomats define honor differently at times from us. I am very one-sided about it."
"I shall keep silence inviolably, I pledge you my word," assured Wallmoden, who did not understand the last bitter hint, for he had no idea of Adelaide's confession. "I had decided on that before you came; the name of Falkenried shall not be sacrificed by me."
"Enough, and now no more of it. You have prepared the Duke for what I bring?" asked Falkenried, passing on to an entirely different subject after a short pause. "What has he to say to it?"
Here again was the old iron, unbending will, which put aside all questioning; but the sudden change seemed to be acceptable to the Ambassador. He was, here as well as elsewhere, the wise diplomat who dreaded nothing so much as public exposure, and who would never have thought of exposing Hartmut, had he not feared that by a possible leaking out of the truth later and of his knowledge of it, it might be counted against him. Now, in the worst case, he could cover himself with the promise he had given the father. Even the Duke must acknowledge that he--Wallmoden--had had to spare his friend. The shrewd Herbert knew how to calculate here, too.
The stay of Colonel Falkenried was only of short duration, and during the time he had no rest. Audience with the Duke--conferences with high military dignitaries, communications with his own embassy--all were crowded within a few days.
Wallmoden was hardly less occupied, until finally everything was settled. The Ambassador, and especially Colonel Falkenried, had reason to be satisfied with the results, for everything had been successful that was expected and desired by their government, and they could be sure of the highest appreciation at home.
Only the most nearly connected circles knew that something important was going on, and even in these circles only a few knew the full importance of the conferences. Scarcely anything was noticed in public, which, therefore, occupied itself only the more with its present favorite, the poet of Arivana, whose incomprehensible behavior made him so much more interesting in the Residenz.
Almost immediately after that brilliant triumph of his work he had withdrawn from all praise and homage, and had gone into "forest solitude," as Prince Adelsberg laughingly informed all questioners. Where this solitude was, nobody learned. Egon assured them that he had given his word not to betray the place of his friend's seclusion, for he needed rest after all his excitement, but would return in a few days. Nobody knew that Hartmut was at Rodeck.
* * * * *
Within the week, one cold winter morning, the carriage of Herr von Wallmoden stood at his palace door. It seemed to be preparing for a long excursion, for servants were carrying furs and travelling rugs to it, while upstairs in the room where they had just breakfasted, the Ambassador was taking leave of Colonel Falkenried.
"Until to-morrow evening,auf wiedersehen," he was saying as he shook hands. "We shall be back by that time without fail, and you will surely remain a few days longer?"
"Yes, since the Duke wishes it so particularly," answered the Colonel. "I have so reported it to Berlin, and my report left on the same train that carried yours."
"Yes, I believe they will be satisfied with these reports; but it has been a hot time. We had no rest all those days. Now, fortunately, everything is arranged, and I can afford to absent myself for twenty-four hours to drive to Ostwalden with Adelaide."
"Ostwalden is the name of your new country home? I remember that you spoke of it yesterday. Where is it situated?"
"About two miles from Furstenstein. Schonan drew my attention to it while we were with him and I looked at the place at that time. It is rather an extensive possession in the famous Wald, beautifully situated, but the price was too high at first, which has delayed the settlement. We have but now come to a final understanding."
"I believe Ada is not quite satisfied with your selection. She seems to have something against the vicinity of Furstenstein," interrupted Falkenried, but the Ambassador only shrugged his shoulders carelessly.
"A caprice, nothing more. At first Adelaide was quite delighted with Ostwalden, but later she raised all sorts of objections--but I cannot pay any attention to that. I shall probably remain there for considerable periods, as I no longer like to travel far in the summer. A country seat which is only four hours removed from town is therefore of great value to me. The castle itself is in rather a dilapidated condition at present, but something can be made of it. With appropriate changes and additions it can be made a really superb residence, and I intend doing that. I shall therefore look it over carefully, so that the plans can be finished as soon as possible. I have not been there as yet since I bought it."
He made his statements with much evident satisfaction over his plans. Herbert von Wallmoden, who had originally possessed only a limited fortune, and was compelled to expend it with great care, had suddenly found it necessary to buy a sumptuous place in town, where he lived only temporarily, and to have a princely villa for his summer residence. But he did not find it necessary to consider the wishes of his wife, whose wealth made it possible to him to play the great land-owner.
Falkenried may have had such ideas while listening, but he did not speak of them. He had turned graver and stonier, if possible, in the last few days, and if he really asked a question or made a remark during the conversation, one could see it was but mechanical, and because he had to say something.
Only when Adelaide entered, perfectly equipped for the journey, he arose promptly and offered his arm to lead her to the carriage. He lifted her in, and Wallmoden, who followed her, leaned once more from the carriage door. "We shall assuredly return to-morrow. Au revoir."
Falkenried bowed and stepped back; It was indifferent to him whether he saw the friend of his youth again. This, too, had lost its interest; but when he ascended the steps, he murmured half aloud; "Poor Ada, she deserved a better fate!"
In the meanwhile everything pursued its usual course at Furstenstein. Willibald had been there a week. He had arrived two days later than had been expected, but the injury to his hand was the cause of that. According to his explanation it had happened through his own carelessness, and the hand was already rapidly getting well.
The Chief Forester found that his future son-in-law had changed much for the better during the short intervening time of his absence, and that he had become much more earnest and decided; and he remarked to his daughter with the highest satisfaction: "I believe that Willy is only now commencing to be human. One notices directly when his lady mamma is not standing commandingly at his side."
But Herr von Schonan did not have much time at his disposal to notice the engaged couple, as he was at present overwhelmed with official duties. The Duke had ordered several changes in the forest government to be made according to the suggestions of the Chief Forester, who was now zealously occupied in executing all of them.
He saw and heard daily that Antonie and Willy were on the best terms, so he left them mostly to themselves.
Meanwhile in the house of the doctor at Waldhofen care and anxiety had made their appearance. The sickness of the doctor, which at first had given no cause for fear, suddenly took a dangerous turn, which was augmented greatly by the age of the patient. He had called persistently for his granddaughter, and she had been telegraphed for. She had at once obtained leave of absence--her rôle in Arivana was filled by another--and she hastened without delay to Waldhofen.
Antonie showed a touching fidelity to her friend at this time. Day after day found her at the home of the Volkmars to console and cheer Marietta, who clung to her grandfather with her whole soul.
Willibald seemed to be likewise necessary at these consolations, for he accompanied Toni regularly, and the Chief Forester thought it quite natural that "the poor little thing" was being consoled and helped to the best of their ability, more especially as she had suffered so unmerited an insult in his house, for which he could not to this day forgive his sister-in-law.
Finally, after three long, sorrowful days and nights, the doctor's strong constitution conquered; the danger was passed, and hopes of a full recovery were entertained.
Herr von Schonan, who was cordially attached to the doctor, was heartily glad of it, and so everything seemed to have come into the best of order.
But threatening weather arose from the north. Without a word of warning Frau von Eschenhagen suddenly appeared at Furstenstein. She had not taken time to stop in town where her brother lived, but came directly from Burgsdorf, and burst like a hurricane upon her brother-in-law, who sat in his room very comfortably reading the paper.
"All good spirits--is it you, Regine?" he cried, amazed. "This is what I call a surprise; you ought to have sent us word."
"Where is Willibald?" demanded Regine in a dangerous tone, by way of answer. "Is he at Furstenstein?"
"Of course, where else should he be? I believe he has announced his arrival here to you."
"Let him be called--immediately."
"But what is the matter?" asked Schonan, noticing now for the first time his sister-in-law's excitement. "Is there a fire at Burgsdorf, or what? I cannot call Willy to you this moment, for he is at Waldhofen----"
"Probably at Dr. Volkmar's--and she is probably there, too."
"Who is 'she'? Toni has, of course, gone with him. They visit that poor little thing daily--Marietta--who was quite despairing at first. I must speak a word with you on this point, Regine. How could you offend the dear girl so deeply, and in my house besides? I only heard of it afterward, or----"
A loud, angry laugh interrupted him. Frau von Eschenhagen had thrown hat and cloak upon a chair and now drew close to her brother-in-law.
"Are you to reproach me because I tried to avert the evil which you have brought upon yourself? Of course you have always been blind and would never listen to my warnings--now it is too late."
"I believe you are not in your right mind, Regine," said the Forester, who really did not know what to think of it all. "Will you be so kind as to tell me what you mean?"
Regine drew forth a newspaper and handed it to him, pointing with her finger to a paragraph.
"Read!"
Schonan obeyed, and now his face also grew red in angry surprise. The article, which was dated from the South German Residenz, read as follows:
"We have just learned that a duel with pistols took place last Monday, very early in the morning, in a remote part of our park. The opponents were a well-known resident, Count W--, and a young North German landowner, W--v. E--, who is visiting his relative here--a high and distinguished diplomat. The cause of the duel is reported to be a member of our Court Theatre, a young singer who bears the best of reputations. Count W-- was injured in the shoulder. Herr v. E-- carried off a slight wound in the hand, and departed immediately."
"Thunder and lightning!" burst forth the Chief Forester, violently. "The betrothed of my Toni has a duel for Marietta's sake! So this is the cause of the injured hand which he brought with him! This is charming, indeed! What else do you know about it, Regine? My paper did not notice it."
"But mine did; it was copied from one of your papers, as you see. I read it yesterday and hastened here at once. I did not even stop to see Herbert, who cannot have known anything about it, or he would have notified me."
"Herbert will be here at noon," said Schonan, throwing the paper angrily upon the table. "He is at Ostwalden with Adelaide, and has written that he will return by Furstenstein and stop over a few hours. Perhaps he is coming on this account, but that does not change anything in the matter. Has that boy--that Willibald--gone crazy?"
"Yes, that he has," assented Frau von Eschenhagen in like anger. "You made fun of me, Moritz, when I exhorted you not to let your child associate with an actress. Indeed, I had no idea that matters could take such a turn until the moment I discovered that Willy--that my son--was in love with Marietta Volkmar. I snatched him instantly from the danger and returned to Burgsdorf. This was the reason of our sudden departure, which I kept from you, because I considered Willy's condition as a passing fancy. The boy seemed to have returned to his senses completely. I would not otherwise have permitted him this journey; and to be surer still, I placed him under the protection of my brother. He cannot have been more than three or four days in town, and now we must live to see this!"
Quite exhausted, she threw herself into an arm-chair. The Chief Forester began to stride about the room vehemently. "And this is not the worst yet," he cried. "The worst is the farce which the boy is playing with his betrothed here. My child goes to Waldhofen day after day, consoling and helping wherever she can, and the Herr Willy always runs along, and uses the opportunity as a rendezvous. That is too outrageous! You have raised something nice in that son, Regine."
"Do you think I make excuses for him?" demanded Regine. "He shall answer to us both--I have come for that. He shall learn to know me."
She lifted her hand as if making a vow, and Schonan, who was still racing through the room, repeated angrily: "Yes, he shall learn to know us."
Then and there the door opened, and the betrayed bride-elect entered into this wild excitement--calm and serene as usual, and saying in the most innocent way: "I have just heard of your arrival, dear aunt; you are very welcome."
She received no answer, but from both sides instead sounded the question: "Where is Willibald?"
"He will be here directly; he has gone to the castle gardener for a few moments, as he did not know of his mother's arrival."
"To the gardener! Perhaps to get roses as before," burst forth Frau von Eschenhagen; but the Chief Forester opened his arms and cried in pathetic tones:
"My child! my poor betrayed child! Come to me come into your father's arms."
He attempted to draw his daughter to his heart, but Regine came upon the other side and also attempted to draw her to her breast, crying out in just as pathetic tones: "Compose yourself, Toni. An awful blow confronts you, but you must bear it. You must show your betrothed that he and his betrayal are an abomination to your deepest soul."
This stormy sympathy was rather startling, but fortunately Antonie had strong nerves. So she freed herself from the double embrace, stepped back, and said with calm decision: "I do not think it so. I begin only now to really like Willy."
"So much the worse," said Schonan. "Poor child, you do not know yet; you have no idea of anything! Your betrothed has had a duel for another's sake."
"I know that, papa."
"For Marietta's sake," explained Frau von Eschenhagen.
"I know it, dear aunt."
"But he loves Marietta!" cried both in accord.
"I know that, too," replied Toni, with superior mien. "I have known it for a week."
The effect of this explanation was so crushing that the two furious people became silent and looked at each other in consternation. Toni continued with imperturbable composure:
"Willy told me everything directly upon his arrival. He spoke so beautifully and truly that I wept with emotion. At the same time a letter arrived from Marietta, in which she begged my pardon, and that was still more touching. So nothing was left to me but to give back to Willy his promise and freedom."
"Without asking us?" exclaimed Regine.
"The asking would not have been of any use here," said Toni, calmly, "for I could not marry a man who tells me that he loves another. We have therefore quietly dissolved our engagement."
"So? And I learn it only now? You have become very independent suddenly," cried her father angrily.
"Willy intended to speak to you the next day, papa, but he could not have remained here any longer after such an explanation, and just then occurred the serious illness of Dr. Volkmar and Marietta's arrival. She was in despair poor Marietta! and Willy's heart almost broke at the thought of leaving her alone in this anxiety and of going away without knowing what turn the illness would take; so I proposed to him to keep quiet for the present, until the danger should be past; but I went with him to Waldhofen daily, so that he could see and console Marietta. They have been so grateful to me--those two. They have called me the guardian angel of their love."
The young lady seemed to find this very touching, too, for she carried her handkerchief to her eyes.
Frau von Eschenhagen stood stiff and rigid as a statue, but Schonan folded his hands and said with a resigned sigh: "May God bless your kindness, my child! but such a thing has never happened before. And you have arranged the affair very smoothly, I must confess. You have sat and looked quietly on while your betrothed made love to another girl."
Antonie shook her head impatiently. Apparently she liked the rôle of guardian angel, and found her position one she could fill without any great exertion, since her affection for her betrothed had always been a very cool one.
"There was no sign of love-making, as the doctor was too seriously ill," she returned. "Marietta cried incessantly and we had plenty to do to console her. Now you see and understand that I am not at all betrayed, and that Willy has acted openly and honestly. I asked him myself to be silent to you, and, in fact, the matter concerns us only----"
"Do you think so? It is therefore of no concern to us?" interrupted the Chief Forester furiously.
"No, papa. Willy is of the opinion that we need not mind our parents in this matter at all."
"What does Willibald mean?" demanded Frau von Eschenhagen, who regained her speech at this unheard-of assertion.
"That each must love the other before marrying, and he is right," declared Toni, with unusual vivacity. "It was not in our engagement at all--in fact, we were not even consulted--but I shall not permit it another time. I see now what it means for two people to love each other with all their heart, and how remarkably Willy has changed through it. I, too, want to be loved as Marietta is loved, and if I do not find a man who loves me exactly like that--then I shall not marry at all."
And after this remark Fraulein Antonie walked out of the room with much decision and a highly elevated head, leaving father and aunt in an indescribable condition.
The Chief Forester was the first to regain composure, but suppressed vexation was still in his voice as he turned to his sister-in-law and said: "Your boy has managed nicely, I must confess, Regine. Now Toni wants to be loved also, and begins to get romantic ideas in her head, and Willy seems to be far gone already in that respect. I actually believe he has managed to make this second proposal by himself."
Frau von Eschenhagen paid no attention to this bitter hint of her interference at the former time. Her face bore an expression which promised nothing good.
"You seem to look upon this affair from a comic standpoint," she said. "I take it differently."
"That will not help you any," returned Schonan. "When such a model son commences to rebel, the affair is usually hopeless, especially when he is in love. But I am curious to know how Willy behaves himself as a lover--it must be a remarkable sight!"