Dr. Fabian and Fräulein Margaret Frank sat in the steward's parlour with an open book before them. The French studies had really begun; but, as the master showed himself earnest and conscientious, so, in proportion, did the pupil prove volatile and unreliable. On the occasion of the first lesson, which had been given some days previously, she had amused herself by putting all sorts of questions to the Doctor, questions as to his past life, his former tutorship to Herr Nordeck, the doings at Altenhof, and other kindred subjects. Today she insisted upon knowing what he really was studying, and drove the unfortunate scholar, who would on no account own to his 'History of Teutonism,' hopelessly into a corner with her persistent inquiries.
"Had we not better begin to read, Fräulein?" said he, beseechingly. "At this rate we shall get nothing done today. You are speaking German all the time."
"Oh, who can think of French now!" cried Gretchen, impatiently turning over the leaves. "My head is full of other things. Life at Wilicza is so exciting."
"Is it? I should not have thought so," said the Doctor, patiently going back through the pages to find the place at which they left off.
The young lady scrutinised him with the gaze of an inquisitor. "No, Doctor? Yet you are at the best source for knowing all that has been going on at the Castle--you, Herr Nordeck's friend and confidant! Something has happened, that is certain, for there is a perfect whirlwind abroad now since the young master went. Messengers are flying continually between Wilicza and Rakowicz. First, Count Morynski comes here, then Prince Baratowski rushes over there; and when one catches a glimpse of our sovereign lady the Princess's awe-inspiring mien, she looks as though the world were coming to an end without further notice. And then, what are all these doings in the park of an evening, which the inspector has been telling me of? They are busy bringing things, or carrying things away. Your windows look out just on that side."
She was speaking German persistently, and the Doctor was so far led away as to answer her in that language.
"I know nothing of it, absolutely nothing," he asserted, fidgetting uneasily on his chair.
"That is exactly what papa says when I ask him," pouted Gretchen. "I can't understand my father at all in this business. He snubbed the inspector when he came in with the news, and gave him explicit orders not to concern himself with the park any further--'Herr Nordeck did not wish it.' Papa cannot possibly be in the plot; but I must say it looks very like it. Don't you think so?"
"But, Fräulein, the object of my coming here will not be attained, if your thoughts are so taken up with such things as these. I have been here half an hour, and we have only read a page. Let us go on, pray," entreated the Doctor.
He pushed the book before her for the sixth time at least. She took it at last with an air of resignation.
"Well, never mind. I see I am not to be let into the secrets; but I shall very well find them out by myself. I can keep silence too--implicit silence, I assure you!" Thereupon she began to read a French poem with every appearance of great vexation, and with so purposely false an emphasis that her teacher was driven to the verge of distraction.
Before she had got through the second strophe, a carriage rattled into the courtyard. It was empty; but the coachman seemed to feel himself quite at home, for he at once set about unharnessing the horses. Next minute one of the maids came in with the announcement that Herr Hubert would shortly do himself the pleasure of calling at the manor-farm--he had stayed down in the village, where he had business with the mayor, and sent on his carriage with an inquiry as to whether he might once again trespass on Herr Frank's hospitality.
There was nothing remarkable in this. Taking advantage of the friendly footing on which he stood with the Frank family, the Assessor was wont to pass the night under their roof whenever his official duties brought him into the neighbourhood of Wilicza, and he took care that this should happen pretty often. The steward was absent, it is true. He had driven out on a long excursion into the country, but was expected home in the evening; so his daughter gave orders that the carriage and coachman should be accommodated, and sent the maid to see that all was in readiness in the spare room.
"If the Assessor comes, there's an end to our reading," said Gretchen to the Doctor, rather petulantly; "but he shall not stay to disturb us long. Before five minutes are over, I shall let a hint drop of the secret goings-on in the park. He will be sure to hurry over there at once, and go hiding behind some tree to watch--and we shall be quit of him."
"For Heaven's sake, do no such thing!" cried Fabian, in a tone of great alarm; "do not send him over there! On the contrary, try and keep him away, at any cost."
Gretchen gave a start. "Oh, Doctor, I thought you knew nothing, absolutely nothing! What puts you in such a fright all in a moment?"
The Doctor sat with downcast eyes like a detected criminal, and sought in vain for a loophole through which to escape. At length he looked up frankly at the young girl--
"I am a man of peace, Fräulein, and never intrude on the secrets of others," said he. "I do not, in truth, know what is going on at the Castle, but that something is astir there I have been forced to remark during the last few days. Herr Nordeck has only given me some hints of the matter; but there can be no doubt that danger is involved in it."
"Well, it involves no danger to us," remarked Gretchen, with great equanimity. "What if the Assessor does spring a mine under their feet? Herr Nordeck is away, so he can't seize him; besides, he will take good care not to meddle with your friend again, after that story of the arrest. You are beyond suspicion; and as to the Princess and Prince Leo ..."
"They are Waldemar's mother and brother," interposed the Doctor, greatly agitated. "Do you not see that any blow directed against them must strike him as well? He is the master of the Castle. He will be held responsible for all that takes place in it."
"And quite right too," cried Gretchen, growing warm. "Why does he start off on a journey and leave the door open to all their plots and intrigues? Why does he aid and abet his relations?"
"He does not," asseverated Fabian; "on the contrary, he opposes their proceedings in the most decided manner. His journey has no other object---- But pray do not force me to speak of things which I ought not to disclose, I am afraid, even to you. This I do know, that Waldemar is most anxious to spare his mother and brother in every way. On leaving, he made me promise to see and hear nothing of what was passing at the Castle, and he has given your father similar instructions. I heard him say to Herr Frank, 'I shall hold you responsible for the Princess's remaining unmolested in the mean time. I take all upon myself.' But now he is away, Herr Frank is away, and an unlucky accident brings this Assessor Hubert over just at this time--a man who has set his heart on making discoveries, and who will make some if he is not hindered. I really don't know what to do!"
"This comes of concealing things fromme," said Gretchen, reprovingly. "IfIhad been taken into your counsels, I should have quarrelled with the Assessor just at the right moment, and then he would not have come over again at present. Now I must reflect."
"Yes, do please," begged the Doctor. "You have great influence with the Assessor. Keep him away; he must not go within a certain distance of the Castle today."
Fräulein Margaret shook her head thoughtfully. "You don't know Hubert. No one will be able to keep him away, if once he gets scent of the truth; and get scent of it he will if he remains at Wilicza, for he questions the inspector regularly each time he comes. He certainly cannot stay here---- I know a way. I will let him make me an offer--he begins whenever he sees me; but I never let him go on--and then I will send him about his business. He will be in such a rage that he will rush off back to L---- as fast as his horse can take him."
"No, I cannot allow that on any account," protested the Doctor. "Come what may, your happiness must not be sacrificed."
"Do you imagine that my happiness depends on Herr Assessor Hubert?" asked Gretchen, with a contemptuous curl of the lip.
Fabian imagined it, certainly. He knew from Hubert's own mouth that that gentleman 'felt sure he could count on her consent,' but a very natural shyness withheld him from touching further on this delicate theme.
"One should never trifle with these things," said he, reproachfully. "The Assessor would learn the true state of the case sooner or later, and it would wound him deeply, perhaps alienate him for ever. No, that shall never be."
Gretchen looked rather disconcerted. She did not understand how any one could view the matter in so serious a light, and cared nothing at all about alienating the Assessor for ever--but the reproach stung her conscience, nevertheless.
"Well, there is nothing for it then but to lead him away from the right track, and set him on a false one," she declared when she had deliberated awhile. "But, Doctor, do you know we are taking a heavy responsibility on ourselves! Everybody is conspiring here at Wilicza, so I don't see why we two should not conspire in our turn; but, strictly speaking, we shall be plotting against our own Government, if we prevent its representative from doing his duty."
"The Assessor is not commissioned to do this," cried the Doctor, who had suddenly risen to a pitch of heroism. "He is only following out his own ambitious designs in coming searching about this place. Fräulein, I give you my word that all these secret intrigues have had their day. A stop is now to be put to them once for all. I have it from Waldemar's own lips, and he is a man who keeps his word. We shall be doing our countrymen no wrong by trying to prevent a most useless catastrophe, which would be brought about by the over-zealous efforts of an official enjoying, perhaps, not too great favour even at L----."
"Very well, we will have our plot then," said Gretchen, resolutely. "The Assessor must go, and that before a quarter of an hour is over, or he will be off as usual, on the hunt for conspirators. There he is coming across the courtyard. Leave all to me, only agree with everything I say. Now we will get the book out again."
Assessor Hubert, coming in a few minutes later, overheard the third strophe of the French poem, and was much pleased to find that Dr. Fabian had kept his word, and that the consort-elect of the future Counsellor was practising those higher accomplishments which would be indispensable to her position. He greeted the pair politely, inquired for his excellent friend the steward, and then took the seat offered him and began to relate the latest news from L----.
"Your old pupil had prepared a great surprise for us the other day," said he to Fabian, affably. "Did you hear that Herr Nordeck, as he passed through our town, drove to the President's house, and made him what appeared to be quite an official visit?"
"Yes, I did hear it spoken of," replied the Doctor.
"His Excellency was much gratified. To be candid, all hopes of any overtures from that quarter had been given up. Herr Nordeck made himself very agreeable, I believe. He even solicited from the President a promise to be present at the next hunt held at Wilicza, and alluded to some other invitations which will excite no less surprise."
"Did the President accept?" inquired Gretchen.
"Assuredly. His Excellency is of opinion that Heir Nordeck's proceedings on this occasion almost amounted to a demonstration, and he felt it his duty to give him his support. Really, Doctor, you would greatly oblige us if you would give us a key to your friend's true position with regard to ..."
"You will learn nothing from Dr. Fabian. He is closer than the young master himself," put in Gretchen, who felt bound to go to her accomplice's aid, for she saw at a glance that he was ill at ease in his new rôle. He was, indeed, almost crushed by the consciousness of guilt--not even the pureness of his intentions could reconcile him to the thought that the Assessor was to be cheated, and that he was helping to cheat him. Fräulein Margaret, however, took the matter much more lightly. She went straight to her aim.
"Shall we have your company at supper, Herr Assessor?" she asked in an easy tone. "You have business over at Janowo, no doubt."
"Not that I know of. Why there in particular?" replied Hubert.
"Well, I only thought--we have heard so many queer things of late, especially within the last few days--I thought you had perhaps been appointed to investigate matters out yonder."
The Assessor became attentive. "What is it you have heard? Pray, Fräulein, conceal nothing from me. Janowo is one of the places we have constantly to keep an eye upon. What do you know of it?"
The Doctor gave his chair a little imperceptible push farther off. He appeared to himself the blackest of traitors. Gretchen, on the other hand, showed a really alarming talent for intrigue. She related nothing, but she allowed herself to be questioned and cross-questioned, reporting by degrees and with the most innocent face in the world all that had been noticed during the last few days, with this difference alone that she transferred the scene of action to Janowo, the great neighbouring estate which lay on the confines of Wilicza. Her plan succeeded beyond all expectation. The Assessor took the bait as eagerly as could be wished. He fairly hung on the girl's lips, working himself into a state of feverish excitement, and finally sprang up from his seat.
"Excuse me if I do not wait for Herr Frank's return, Fräulein Margaret. I must go back as far as E---- at once, without delay ..."
"But not on foot. It is quite a mile and a half there."
"Above all noéclat, I entreat you!" whispered Hubert, mysteriously. "I will leave my carriage behind. It is better I should be supposed to be here. Pray do not expect me to supper. Good-bye, Fräulein," and with a short and hasty salutation, he hurried out and immediately afterwards re-crossed the courtyard.
"Now he is off to E---- to fetch the two gendarmes stationed there," said Gretchen to the Doctor, triumphantly; "then he will rush straight over to Janowo, and all three of them will go prowling about the place until far on into the night. Wilicza is safe from them."
She was not mistaken in her suppositions. It was late at night when the Assessor returned from his expedition, which had, as she had guessed, been undertaken in the company of the two gendarmes, and had, naturally enough, been productive of no result. He was much out of temper and very depressed, to say nothing of a violent cold which he had caught by the unaccustomed exposure to the night air. Next day he was so unwell that even Gretchen was roused to a sense of humanity. In a fit of repentance she made tea for him, and nursed him with such care that Hubert forgot all the discomfort he had endured. Unfortunately this behaviour on her part confirmed him in his conviction--unalterable from this time forth--that he was beloved beyond all telling. Dr. Fabian, too, came over in the course of the day to see how the patient was progressing, and showed so much anxious sympathy, such deep regret at his indisposition, that the Assessor was touched and completely comforted. He little knew that he owed all this attention to the remorse of the two confederates in league against him. So he set out at last, burdened with his cold, but with spirits much revived, on his way back to L----.
If on that evening the Wilicza park and its environs still remained free from all inopportune vigilance, the dwellers at the Castle had naturally no notion to whom their thanks for such immunity were due. About the time that Dr. Fabian and Fräulein Margaret were engaged in concocting their plot, a family meeting had taken place in the Princess Baratowska's apartments. Count Morynski and Leo were equipped for travelling; their cloaks lay in the ante-room, and the carriage, which half an hour before had brought the Count and his daughter over, still stood in the courtyard, ready to start again. Leo and Wanda had withdrawn into the deep recess of the centre window, and were talking eagerly, but in a low voice, while the Princess was also carrying on a conversation in an undertone with her brother.
"In the present state of affairs I look upon it as fortunate that circumstances require your hasty departure," she said. "On Leo's account it is desirable, for he would never endure to stay on at Wilicza, if Waldemar begins to play the master. He is not capable of controlling himself. I saw by the way in which he received my disclosures that I should certainly be provoking a catastrophe, if I were to insist on his remaining longer with his brother. As it is, they will not meet for the present, and that is best."
"And you yourself will really be able to hold out here, Hedwiga?" asked the Count.
"I must," she answered. "It is all I can do for you now. I have yielded to the reasoning by which you describe open war with Waldemar as useless and full of peril. We have given up Wilicza as our centre of operations--for the time being, that is; but for you and Leo it is still the place where messages can be sent, and whence news can be transmitted to you in return. So much liberty, at least, I shall be able to maintain. At the worst the Castle will still be your refuge, should you be obliged to re-cross the frontier. Peace will not be disturbed on this side, at all events for some time to come. When do you think of going over?"
"Probably to-night. We shall wait at the last forester's station to find out how and where it will be possible to cross. This evening the last transport of arms will be sent after us; it will be left provisionally in the forester's charge. I consider this precaution to be urgently necessary. Who knows whether your son may not take it into his head to search through the whole Castle on his return the day after to-morrow?"
"He will find it clear"--the Princess clenched her hand in repressed rage, and her lips twitched strangely--"clear as he commanded it should be; but I swear to you, Bronislaus, he shall pay for that command and for his tyranny towards us. I hold the means of retaliation and a bridle wherewith to hold him in check, should he attempt to go still greater lengths."
"You hinted something of the sort before," said the Count; "but I really do not understand by what means you still hope to tame such a nature. Judging by Wanda's description of the scene between you and Waldemar, I place no faith in the power of any bridle to restrain him."
The Princess said nothing; she evidently had no wish to answer him, and was freed from the necessity of so doing by the two young people at that moment leaving the window recess and coming up to them.
"It is impossible to make Wanda change her mind," said Leo to his mother. "She decidedly refuses to come to Wilicza--she will not leave Rakowicz."
The Princess turned to her niece with an expression of great severity.
"This is folly, Wanda. It has been arranged for months that you should come to me when your father's long-foreseen absence should occur. You cannot, ought not to stay at Rakowicz alone. I am your natural protector, and you will put yourself under my charge."
"Excuse me, dear aunt, I shall do nothing of the sort," replied the young Countess. "I will not be the guest of a house whose master conducts himself towards us in this hostile spirit. I can bear it no better than Leo."
"Do you think it will be easy for your aunt to hold her ground here?" asked the Count, reproachfully. "She makes the sacrifice for us, because she wishes to keep Wilicza open as a refuge for us in case of need, because it must not permanently be given up, and were she to go, it would be lost to us for ever. I may well ask for equal self-denial from you."
"But why is my presence here so necessary, so indispensable?" cried Wanda, hardly attempting now to control her vehemence. "The considerations which weigh with my aunt do not exist for me. Let me stay at home, papa."
"Give way, Wanda," entreated Leo; "stay with my mother. Wilicza lies so much nearer the frontier, we can keep up some communication far more easily. Perhaps I may make it possible to see you once. Certainly I hate Waldemar as bitterly as you do, now that he has openly declared himself our enemy; but, for my sake, put a constraint on yourself and endure him."
He had seized her hand. Wanda drew it away almost violently. "Let me be, Leo; if you knewwhyyour mother wishes to have me with her, you would be the first to oppose it."
The Princess knitted her brow, and quickly interfering to cut short her niece's speech, she said, turning to the Count--
"Show your authority as her father at last, Bronislaus, and command her to remain. She must stay at Wilicza."
The young Countess started angrily at these words, which were spoken with great harshness. Her exasperation drove her beyond bounds.
"Well, then, if you compel me to speak out, my father and Leo shall hear my reason. I did not at the time understand the ambiguous words you spoke to me a little while ago, but now I know their meaning. You think I am the only person Waldemar will not offer up, the only one who can restrain his hand. I do not think so, for I know him better than you; but no matter which of us is right--I will not put it to the test."
"And I would never, never endure that such an experiment should be made," blazed out Leo. "If that was the motive, Wanda shall remain at Rakowicz, and never set foot in Wilicza. I believed that Waldemar's old attachment had long ago died out and was forgotten. If it is not so--and it cannot be, or the plan would never have been imagined--I will not leave you near him for a day."
"Make your mind easy," said Wanda, her own voice, however, sounding anything but tranquil; "I shall not again allow myself to be used as a mere tool, as I was in the old days at C----. I have played with this man and with his love once, but I will not do it a second time. He has let me feel his contempt, and I know the weight of it; yet there was nothing worse then to arouse his scorn than the caprice of a thoughtless child. If he were to discover a scheme, a calculation, and I were one day to read that in his eyes--I would rather die than bear it!"
She had allowed herself to be so carried away by her vehemence that she forgot all those around her. Erect, with glowing cheeks and flashing eyes, she delivered this protest with such passionate intensity of feeling that the Count gazed at her in astonishment, and the Princess in consternation; but Leo, who had been standing by her side, drew back from her. He had turned very pale, and in his eyes, as he fixed them on her steadily, enquiringly, there was more than astonishment or consternation.
"Rather die!" he repeated. "Do you set such store by Waldemar's esteem? Do you know so well how to read in his eyes? That is strange."
A hot flush overspread Wanda's face. She must herself have been unconscious of this, for she cast a look of unfeigned indignation at the young Prince, and would have answered him, but her father interfered.
"Let us have no jealous scenes now, Leo," he said gravely. "Do you wish to disturb our parting, and to offend Wanda just when you are about to leave her? As you now insist upon it, she shall remain at Rakowicz. My sister will yield to you on this point, but do not again wound Wanda by any such suspicions. Time presses, we must say farewell."
He drew his daughter to him, and now in the moment of separation all the tenderness which this grave, melancholy man cherished in his heart towards his only child, broke forth. He clasped her to him with profound and painful emotion. But the Princess waited in vain for her son to approach her. He stood with a dark frown on his overcast face, looking down at the ground, and biting his lips until they bled.
"Well, Leo," remonstrated his mother, at last, "will you not say good-bye to me?"
The words startled him from his brooding. "Not now, mother. I will follow my uncle later. He will not want me at first; I shall stay here a few days longer."
"Leo!" cried the Count angrily, while Wanda, raising herself from his arms, looked up in indignant surprise. These marks of reprobation only served, however, to harden the young Prince in his rebellion.
"I shall stay," he persisted. "Two or three days cannot possibly make any difference. I will take Wanda back to Rakowicz before I leave, and make myself sure that she will remain there; above all, I will wait for Waldemar's return, and have the matter cleared up in the shortest way. I will challenge him with his feelings towards my affianced wife. I will ..."
"Prince Leo Baratowski will do what duty bids him, and nothing else," interrupted the Princess, her cold clear voice ringing out in sharpest contrast to her son's wild agitated tones. "He will follow his uncle, as has been agreed, and will never stir one minute from his side."
"I cannot," cried Leo, impetuously. "I cannot leave with this suspicion at my heart. You have promised me Wanda's hand, and yet I have never been able to assert my right to it. She herself has always sided coldly and inexorably with you. She has always wished to be the prize which I must fight for and win in the struggle we are now entering on. But now I demand that she shall be publicly and solemnly betrothed to me beforehand, here in Waldemar's presence, before his eyes. Then I will go; but until this is done, I will not stir from the Castle. Waldemar has proclaimed himself master and lawgiver here in such a surprising manner--no one ever expected it of him--he may just as suddenly transform himself into an ardent adorer."
"No, Leo," said Wanda, with angry disdain; "but at the beginning of a struggle your brother would not refuse to follow where duty leads, even though it should cost him his love and his happiness."
They were the most unfortunate words she could have spoken; they robbed the young Prince of all self-control. He laughed out bitterly.
"Oh,hisrisk would be small; but it might easily costmeboth if I were to go away and leave you to your unbounded admiration of him and his sense of duty. Uncle, I ask permission to put off my journey, only for three days, and if you refuse me, I shall take it. I know that nothing decisive will be done at the first, and I shall be there in time enough for all the preparatory movements."
The Princess would have interposed, but the Count held her back. He stepped up to his nephew with an air of authority.
"That is for me to decide, and not for you. Our departure has been fixed for today. I consider it necessary, and with that all is said. If I have to submit each of my orders to your approval, or to make them subservient to your jealous caprices, it will be better that you should not go with me at all. I exact from you the obedience you have sworn to your leader. You will either follow me this very hour or, take my word for it, I will exclude you from every post where I have power to command. You have the choice."
"He will follow you, Bronislaus," said the Princess, with sombre earnest. "He will follow you, or he will cease to be my son. Decide, Leo. Your uncle will keep his word."
Leo stood battling with himself. His uncle's words, his mother's imperious looks, would probably have remained powerless in presence of his jealousy, now so violently aroused; but he saw that Wanda shrank from him. He knew that by staying he should incur her contempt, and that thought turned the scale. He rushed to her, and took her hand.
"I will go," he gasped; "but promise me that you will avoid Wilicza during my absence, and only see my mother at Rakowicz--above all, that you will keep at a distance from Waldemar."
"I should have done that without any promise," replied Wanda, more gently. "You forget that it was my refusal to remain at Wilicza which led to this outburst of most groundless jealousy on your part."
Leo drew a breath of relief at the thought. Yes, it was true. She had refused, peremptorily refused to remain under the same roof with his brother.
"You should have spoken more convincingly," he said, in a calmer tone. "Perhaps I may one day apologise for having wounded you--I cannot now, Wanda"--he pressed her hand convulsively in his. "I do not believe you could ever be guilty of such treason to me, to us all, as to love this Waldemar, our foe, our oppressor; but you ought not to feel any of this esteem, this admiration for him. It is bad enough that he should love you, and that I should know you to be within his reach."
"You will have some trouble with that hot-headed boy," said the Princess to her brother in a low voice. "He cannot comprehend the word 'discipline.'"
"He will learn it," replied the Count with quiet firmness; "and now good-bye, Hedwiga. We must be gone."
The leave-taking was short and less hearty than it would have been under other circumstances. The dissonance of feeling called forth by the foregoing scene prevailed to the last. Wanda suffered Leo to take her in his arms in silence; but she did not return his embrace, though she threw herself once again with passionate tenderness on her father's breast. The same jarring note disturbed the adieux of mother and son. The Princess whispered a remonstrance, a warning so grave and earnest that Leo withdrew himself from her arms more hastily than was his wont. Then the Count once more held out his hand to his sister, and went, accompanied by his nephew. They put on their cloaks outside in the ante-room; and going down, entered the carriage which was waiting for them below. One more wave of the hand to the windows above, then the horses moved on, and soon the roll of the carriage wheels was lost in the distance.
The two ladies were left alone. Wanda had thrown herself on the sofa, and hidden her face in her hands. The Princess still stood at the window, and looked long after the carriage which was bearing her darling away to the strife and to danger. When at length she turned round and came back into the room, traces might be seen even in her proud face of what the parting had cost her--only by an effort could she maintain her accustomed outward calm.
"It was unpardonable of you, Wanda, to arouse Leo's jealousy at such a moment in order to carry your point," said she, with bitter reproach. "You ought to be sufficiently aware of this weakness of his."
The young Countess raised her head. Her cheeks were wet with recent tears.
"You yourself compelled me to do it, aunt. I had no other resource; besides, I could not divine that Leo would turn upon me in his jealous anger, that he would insult me by such a suspicion."
The Princess stood before her, looking down scrutinisingly into her face.
"Was the suspicion really an insulting one? Well, I hope so."
"What do you mean?" cried Wanda, startled.
"My dear," replied the Princess, in an icy tone, "you know that I have never taken Leo's part when he has tormented you with his jealousy; to-day I do feel he has cause for anxiety, though to him I would not admit it, not wishing to excite him further. The tone in which you delivered that 'rather would I die!' made my blood boil within me, and your dread of Waldemar's contempt was very significant, so significant that I now willingly give up all idea of keeping you at Wilicza. When I conceived the plan, I thought I could be absolutely sure of you; now I really could not be responsible for the issue to Leo, and I perfectly agree with you that--it would not do to put it to the test."
Wanda had risen. Pale as death, mute with dismay, she stared at the speaker, feeling as though an abyss were yawning open at her feet. Giddy with the sudden shock, she leaned for support against the sofa.
The Princess kept her eyes steadily fixed on her niece's face. "I know you do not suspect it yourself, and that is why I give you this hint. Sleep-walkers should be roused before they reach a perilous height. If the awakening comes too suddenly, a fall is inevitable. You have ever set energy, an iron will, above all else in your estimate of a man--that alone has constrained you to admiration. I know that, in spite of his many brilliant advantages, this one quality Leo unhappily does not possess, and I will no longer deny that Waldemar has it; so beware of yourself with your--hatred of him, which might one day reveal itself in a new light. I open your eyes now while it is yet time, and I think you will be grateful to me for it."
"Yes," replied Wanda, in a voice which was scarcely audible. "I thank you."
"Well, we will let the matter rest then; there can be no danger in it yet, I hope. To-morrow I will myself take you back to Rakowicz; now I must see that all necessary caution is observed again this evening, so that no disaster may befall us on the last day. I will give Pawlick my orders, and superintend all the arrangements myself."
So saying, the Princess left the room, firmly persuaded that she had only done her duty, and had prevented a future catastrophe, in that, energetic and unsparing as ever, she had torn away the veil which hid from the young Countess the state of her own heart. Had she seen how, on being left alone, Wanda sank down stunned and crushed, she would perhaps have perceived that the perilous height had already been reached at which a cry of warning may be fatal. It could avail neither to admonish nor to rescue. The awakening came too late.
Winter had come in all its bitter severity. Woods and fields lay shrouded in a thick white pall of snow, the flow of the river was stopped by a strong coating of ice, and over the frozen earth the wintry storms howled and blustered, benumbing all with their icy breath.
Another storm had been roused by them which raged more wildly than the elements. Over the frontier the long-dreaded revolt had broken out. The whole neighbouring country blazed with revolutionary fire, and each day brought its own fearful tidings. On this side the land was quiet as yet, and it seemed as though the quiet would be maintained; but peaceful the temper of that border-district could hardly be, for a thousand ties and connections bound it to the struggling province, and hardly a Polish family lived in those parts which had not at least one of its members in the ranks of the combatants.
Wilicza suffered most severely of all from this state of things. Its position made it one of the most important, but also one of the most dangerous outposts of the whole province. Not on light grounds had it been chosen to play so conspicuous a part in the plans of the Morynski and Baratowski faction. The Nordeck domain offered the most convenient connecting point with the insurrection, the surest retreat in case of contests near the frontier, while it was too densely wooded to allow of the strict supervision which had been prescribed being kept up throughout its whole extent, in spite of the numerous posts and patrols. Much had been changed, certainly, since the young proprietor had, on that memorable occasion shortly before the departure of Leo and Morynski, ranged himself so decidedly on the side of his countrymen; but from that hour a silent, bitter struggle had set in between him and his mother, a struggle which had not even yet come to an end.
The Princess was true to her word. She yielded to him not an inch of the ground to which she conceived she had a right, and Waldemar at last began to realise all the consequences of his own negligence in leaving his estates for years in her hands. If such negligence and indifference were ever to be atoned for, he atoned for them now.
He had achieved this--that his castle should no longer be made the centre of party intrigues; but he could not clear his whole domain in like manner, for its allegiance had been systematically alienated from him. The unbounded authority so long exercised by the Princess, the complete expulsion of the German element from the administration, the appointment of Polish functionaries to every post of any importance, all this now bore its fruits. Nordeck was indeed, as he had said, sold and betrayed on his own soil. The title of master was accorded him, but his mother was looked on as mistress in point of fact. Though she was careful not to appear openly in this light, her orders were transmitted to her underlings and instantly obeyed, while all Wilicza banded itself together in secret but determined opposition to those given by Waldemar. All possible intrigues and expedients were busily employed to thwart him; all that could be done to evade his orders, to counteract his measures, was done, but invariably in a way which eluded detection and punishment. No one refused him obedience in so many words; and yet he knew that "war and resistance" was the order daily issued against him. When in one place he compelled submission, rebellion raised its hydra-head in twenty others; and if one day he carried his point, on the next fresh obstacles stood in his path. He could not meet the difficulty by discharging all the disaffected; he must have parted with the whole staff of his officials. In some cases he was bound by agreements, in others he would have found it impossible to replace the men, and at the present time any arbitrary act might have been fraught with disaster. So the young master of Wilicza was forced into a position which was of all the hardest for him to bear, in that it gave no scope to his energy, but demanded only quiet, deliberate perseverance in a course once marked out; and this was the very basis on which the Princess had built her plan. Waldemar should weary of the strife. He should learn to know that his power could avail nothing in a matter wherein all Wilicza was leagued together for her, and against him. In his anger and vexation of spirit he should let fall the reins which he had so forcibly withdrawn from her hands. Patience had never been his forte. But once again she deceived herself in her estimate of her son. He now gave proof of that tenacity of purpose, that inflexible will which she was wont to consider as exclusivelyhercharacteristic. Not once did he recoil before the obstacles and annoyances she heaped up in his path; one by one he overcame them. His eye and hand were everywhere; and if, on a rare occasion, obedience was actually refused him, he then proclaimed himself the master in such a way that the first attempt would also be the last. This conduct certainly did not win for him the affection of his subordinates. If formerly they had only hated the German in him, they now hated Waldemar Nordeck personally; but already they had learned to fear, and gradually they grew to obey. Under existing circumstances fear was the one stimulus which might yet extort compliance.
The relations between mother and son became in this way more and more hostile, the situation more untenable, though the same outward forms of cool politeness were preserved. That first explanation between them had been the only one. They were neither of them given to many useless words, and both felt that there could be no question of reconciliation or agreement where character and principles were so thoroughly opposed as was here the case. Waldemar never attempted to call his mother to account; he knew she would admit nothing of the manœuvres which yet incontestably proceeded from her, and she on her side proffered no question relating to these matters. Life under the same roof was therefore possible, and, viewed from without, even tolerable. Its stings and mortifications were known but to the two concerned. Waldemar wrapped himself in a still more impenetrable reserve. He saw his mother only at table, and often not even there. The Princess, too, would frequently absent herself, going over to Rakowicz to see her niece, and staying away a considerable time. Wanda had kept her word. She had not again set foot in Wilicza, whilst Waldemar in his expeditions avoided even the part of the country in which her father's property lay.
More than three months had elapsed since Count Morynski and his nephew had left. It was generally known that they were in the thick of the strife, that the Count was playing an important part in the insurrection, and that young Prince Baratowski had been appointed to a command under his uncle. In spite of distance and difficulties, they were both in uninterrupted communication with their friends. The Princess, and Wanda also, received exact and detailed accounts of all that happened beyond the frontier, and constantly despatched messages to the scene of action themselves. The readiness with which every one in those border-districts undertook the office of messenger, laughed all obstacles to scorn.
It was about noon on a rather cold day when Assessor Hubert and Dr. Fabian walked back together from the village where they had met. The Assessor was fairly swaddled in wraps. He knew by his Janowo experience the unpleasant consequences of catching cold. The Doctor, too, had put up the collar of his cloak as a protection against the wintry weather. The severe climate did not appear to suit him. He looked paler than usual, and seemed worn and fatigued. Hubert, on the other hand, was beaming with cheerfulness and satisfaction. The events now happening on the frontier took him very often to Wilicza, or its neighbourhood. On this occasion he was about to conduct an inquiry which would detain him several days in these parts; as usual he had taken up his quarters at the steward's house, and his radiant air of contentment showed that he found them to his liking.
"It is splendid, sir," he was saying in his solemn official tones; "I tell you, Herr Nordeck's present conduct is splendid. We Government men best know how to appreciate it. The President is of opinion that this cursed Wilicza would long ago have set the example of revolt here, if its master had not stood like a wall and a rampart, holding it back. He has the admiration of all L----, the more so that no one ever expected he would one day show himself in these colours."
Dr. Fabian sighed. "I wished he deserved your admiration somewhat less. It is precisely the energy he shows which draws down more hatred on him day by day. I tremble each time Waldemar rides out alone, and there is no persuading him to take even the simplest precautions."
"True," said the Assessor, gravely. "The people here at Wilicza are capable of anything, even of lying in ambush to get a shot at their enemy unawares. I believe the only thing which has protected Herr Nordeck hitherto has been the fact that, in spite of everything, he is the Princess Baratowska's son; but who knows how long, with their national fanaticism, they will respect even such a consideration as that! What a life it must be for you all up at the Castle! No one can make out why the Princess remains. It is well known that she is heart and soul with the Polish cause. There must have been some terrible scenes between her and her son, eh?"
"Excuse me, Herr Assessor, these are family affairs," replied Fabian, evading the question.
"I understand your discretion," said Hubert, who was burning with curiosity to learn something that he could relate on his return to L----, where people busied themselves now more than ever with the owner of Wilicza and his mother; "but you have no idea what terrible stories are going the round of the town. They say that, at that time when Herr Nordeck declared himself so decidedly for us, he had come upon and dispersed a meeting of conspirators, who held their conferences in the underground vaults of his Castle under the presidency of Count Morynski and the young Prince Baratowski. When the Princess would have interfered, her son, they say, placed a pistol at her breast; she flung her curse at him, and then they both ..."
"How can people in L---- believe such nonsense!" cried the Doctor, indignantly. "I give you my word that no such outrageous scene has ever taken place between Waldemar and his mother--it would be contrary to their natures; no, far from that, they are on very--very polite terms."
"Really?" asked the Assessor, incredulously. He was evidently reluctant to give up the tale of the pistol and the curse--it suited his romantic fancy far better than this tame explanation. "But the conspiracy did exist," he added, "and Herr Nordeck did put the traitors to flight--he alone against two hundred! Ah, if I had only been there! I was over at Janowo, where I unfortunately failed to make any discovery. Fräulein Margaret is generally so clever, I cannot think how she could have been so mistaken--for we know now that the secret stores of arms were hidden at Wilicza, though Herr Nordeck can never be brought to admit it."
The Doctor was silent, and looked greatly embarrassed. The mention of Janowo always flurried him. Fortunately, they had now reached the spot where the road to the Castle branched off. Fabian took leave of his companion, and the latter pursued his way alone to the manor-farm.
Meanwhile an interview was there being held between the steward and his daughter, which at one time threatened to take a stormy turn. Gretchen, at any rate, had assumed a most warlike attitude. She stood before her father with her arms folded, her head with its fair crown of plaits defiantly thrown back, and as she spoke, she even stamped her little foot on the ground, in order to give more emphasis to her words.
"I tell you, papa, I don't like the Assessor, and if he chooses to come languishing about me six months longer, and you speak up for him ever so much, I'll not be forced into saying Yes."
"But, child, nobody wants to force you," said her father, soothingly. "You know that you are quite free to do as you like; but the matter must be spoken of and settled at last, one way or the other. If you persist in saying no, you must not encourage Hubert any further."
"I do not encourage him!" cried Gretchen, almost crying with vexation. "On the contrary, I treat him abominably; but it is all of no use. Ever since that unlucky time when I nursed him for his cold, he has been firmly persuaded that I return his affection. If I were to refuse him to-day, he would smile and reply, 'You are mistaken, Fräulein; you do love me,' and he would be at me again tomorrow."
Frank took his daughter's hand, and drew her nearer to him. "Gretchen, be a good girl, and tell me what it is you object to in the Assessor. He is young, tolerably good-looking, not without means, and he can offer you a social position which has considerable advantages. I admit that he has some absurd little eccentricities; but a sensible wife would soon make something of him. The main point is that he is head over ears in love with you, and you did not look on him with such unfavourable eyes at first. What has set you so against him just of late?"
Gretchen made no answer to this question, it seemed to embarrass her a little; but she soon recovered herself.
"I don't love him," she declared with great decision. "I don't want him, and I won't have him."
In face of this categorical refusal, her father had no resource but to shrug his shoulders and turn away--which he did.
"Well, as you like," he said, a little annoyed. "Then I will tell the Assessor the plain truth before he leaves us. I will wait until he is going away; perhaps you will think better of it by that time."
The young lady looked most disdainful at such inconsistency being ascribed to her. The thought that she had just destroyed all the Assessor's chances of earthly happiness did not appear to disturb her equanimity in the least; she sat down calmly to her work-table, took up a book, and began to read.
The steward paced up and down the room, still with a shade of annoyance on his face; at last he stopped before his daughter.
"What is that great thick volume which I see now constantly in your hands? A grammar, I suppose. Are you studying French so zealously?"
"No, papa," replied Gretchen. "Grammars are a great deal too tiresome for me to take one in hand so often. I am studying"--she laid her hand solemnly on the book--"I am at present studying the 'History of Teutonism.'"
"The history of what?" asked the steward, who could not believe his ears.
"'The History of Teutonism,'" repeated his daughter, with infinite self-complacency. "A book of rare merit, of the most profound erudition. Would you like to read it? Here is the first volume."
"Don't bother me with your Teutonism," cried Frank. "I have enough to do with Slavs and Slavism; but how did you get hold of this learned stuff? Through Dr. Fabian, no doubt. This is all quite against the agreement. He promised to give you some practice in French; instead of that he brings you old rubbish out of his library, of which you don't understand a single word."
"I understand it all," said the girl, much offended, "and it is no old rubbish, but quite a new book which Dr. Fabian has written himself. It has made a wonderful sensation in the literary world, and two of our greatest scientific men, Professor Weber and Professor Schwarz, are at daggers drawn about it and about the new celebrity just rising into fame, that is, the Doctor; but you'll see, papa, he will be greater than both of them put together."
"Schwarz?" said the steward, reflectively. "That is our Assessor's famous uncle at the University of J----. Well, Dr. Fabian may think himself lucky if such an authority condescends to take notice of his book."
"Professor Schwarz knows nothing about it," declared Gretchen, to her father's amazement, delivering her verdict with the assurance of an academical judge. "He will get himself into a scrape with his criticism of Dr. Fabian's book, just as the Assessor did with his attempt to arrest Herr Nordeck. Naturally enough--they are uncle and nephew--it is the way of the family!"
The steward began to take a more serious view of the matter in question. He looked at his daughter attentively.
"You are as well versed as any student in these university stories. You appear to enjoy Dr. Fabian's unlimited confidence."
"So I do," assented Gretchen; "but you have no idea what a deal of trouble it cost me to bring him to it. He is so shy and reserved, although he is such a remarkably clever man. I have had to worm it all out of him, word by word. He would not hear of giving me his book at first; but I grew angry, and I should like to see him refuse me anything when I look cross at him!"
"I tell you what, child, the Assessor did a very stupid thing when he brought about these French lessons," broke out Frank. "This quiet, pale Doctor, with his soft voice and timid ways, has fairly bewitched you, and he is the sole cause of the ill-treatment you bestow on poor Hubert. You are not going to be foolish, I hope. The Doctor is nothing but an ex-tutor who lives on with his former pupil, and receives a pension from him. If he writes learned works the while, it may be an amusement for him; but such an occupation brings in no money to speak of, certainly not an assured income. Fortunately, he is too shy, and too sensible, I trust, to build any hopes on your fancy for him; but I consider it better that the French studies should be put a stop to at once. I will try and manage it without giving offence. If you, who have hardly patience to read through a novel, are now studying the 'History of Teutonism,' and growing enthusiastic over it merely because Dr. Fabian is the author, the matter looks to me serious."
His daughter tossed her head impatiently at this paternal reprimand, and was about to put forward an emphatic protest, when the inspector came in with a message. Frank left the room with him, and Fräulein Margaret remained behind in a very ill-humour. Assessor Hubert could have chosen no worse time to make his appearance; but, as usual, his unlucky star brought him in now at the wrong moment. He was, as ever, attention and affability itself; but the object of his wishes proved to be in so ungracious a frame of mind that he could not refrain from noticing it.
"You seem out of humour, Fräulein Margaret," he began after several vain attempts to engage her in conversation. "May one know the reason?"
"It makes me wild to think that it is just the cleverest men who are shy and have no self-confidence," exclaimed Gretchen, whose thoughts were far away.
The Assessor's face brightened at these words. "Cleverest men--shy--no self-confidence." True, he had paused that day when about to fall on his knees before her, and up to the present time had not succeeded in making the declaration which was expected from him. No doubt, the young lady herself was chiefly to blame for the delay; yet she was evidently vexed that he should show so little self-confidence. This must be repaired without loss of time. No hint could have been plainer.
Gretchen had hardly spoken when she saw what she had done with her imprudent words, which Hubert naturally applied to himself. She put her 'History of Teutonism' speedily away in safety from him, for the Doctor had made her promise not to betray him to the nephew of his literary foe, and resolved on repairing her hasty error by behaving as rudely as possible.
"You need not keep looking at me with the eye of a detective, Herr Assessor," said she. "I am not a conspirator, and conspiracies are the only things in the world which interest you."
"Fräulein," replied the Assessor, with dignity, and also with a touch of wounded feeling, for he was conscious that his glance had not been keen as that of a detective, but languishing rather as a lover's, "you reproach me with my zeal in the discharge of my duties, while I myself am inclined to make a merit of that very quality. On us officials rests the whole responsibility for the order and security of the State. To us thousands owe it that they can lay down their heads in peace; without us ..."
"Oh, if our safety depended upon you, we should all have been murdered long ago here at Wilicza," interrupted the girl. "It is lucky we have Herr Nordeck to look after us. He is better able to keep order than the whole police department of L----."
"Herr Nordeck appears to enjoy an extraordinary amount of admiration everywhere now," remarked Hubert, in a tone of pique. "You share in it too?"
"Oh, certainly, I share in it," assented Gretchen. "I am extremely sorry to tell you that my admiration is given to Herr Nordeck, and to no other."
She cast a look of most pointed meaning at the Assessor, but he only smiled.
"Ah, that other would never lay claim to so cold and distant a sentiment as admiration," he protested. "He hopes to awaken far different emotions in a kindred soul."
Gretchen saw that rudeness availed her nothing. Hubert was steering steadily, perseveringly, straight ahead towards a declaration. The girl, however, had no wish to listen to him; it was disagreeable to her to have to say No, so she struck in with the first question which came into her mind.
"You have not told me anything of your famous uncle in J---- for a long time. What is he about now?"
The Assessor, who saw in this question a proof of her interest in his family affairs, entered promptly into the subject.
"My poor uncle has had much vexation and worry of late," he replied. "There exists at the University a party of opposition--what truly great man has not his enemies?--at the head of which stands Professor Weber. This gentleman lays himself out to gain popularity, and the students entertain a blind predilection for him. Every one vaunts his amiable character, and my uncle, who disdains such artifices and cares nothing for public opinion, meets with enmity and ill-will on every side. Just now the opposition party, for no other purpose than to spite him, are crying up some obscure person who has just published his first work; they have even the audacity to declare that this novice's book is superior to Schwarz's writings on Teutonism."
"Impossible!" said Gretchen. "Superior to my uncle's writings," repeated the Assessor, with generous indignation. "I do not know the author's name, nor the circumstances of the case--my uncle is not fond of going into details in his letters--but the matter has vexed him to such a degree, and his dispute with Professor Weber has assumed such proportions, that he has thought fit to tender his resignation. It is, of course, nothing but a menace; they would never let him go--the University would suffer far too great a loss by his withdrawal--but he considers it necessary to put some pressure on the personages in question."
"I wish it Would take effect," said Gretchen, with such a wrathful expression that Hubert drew back a step in his surprise, only to advance two the next minute, however.
"It makes me very happy to see you take such an interest in my uncle's welfare. He, too, is already most kindly disposed towards you. I have often mentioned in my letters the family at whose house I find so hospitable a welcome, and he would be delighted to hear that I was to be connected ..."
He had got so far on the road again, when the girl jumped up in desperation, ran to the open piano, and began to play; but she undervalued her suitor's persistency. Next moment he was at her side, listening to her.
"Ah, the 'Longings of the Heart' waltzes, my favourite piece. Yes, music is the language which best renders the feelings of the soul; is it not so, Fräulein Margaret?"
Fräulein Margaret thought that to-day everything had conspired together against her. This was, as it happened, the only piece she knew by heart, and she dared not get up and run to fetch her notes, for the Assessor's looks plainly said that he was only waiting for a pause in her performance to give vent to the feelings of his soul in words. So the 'Longings of the Heart' waltzes raged over the piano to the time of a galop. The noise was fearful, and a string broke; but no matter, such a din must drown any love declaration.
"Ought this to be fortissimo, do you think?" Hubert ventured to remark. "I always fancied the piece should be played in a soft, melting piano."
"I play it fortissimo," declared Gretchen, and banged on the notes so violently that the second string broke.
The Assessor was growing rather nervous. "You will spoil this beautiful instrument," said he, making himself heard with difficulty.
"What are pianos in the world for?" cried Gretchen; and, seeing that the musical uproar was disagreeable to the Assessor, she raised it to an almost incredible pitch, and deliberately sacrificed a third string. At last her strategy succeeded. Hubert saw that he would not be allowed to speak to-day, and beat a retreat, a little annoyed, but with unshaken confidence. The young lady had nursed him with such touching care when he was ill with his cold, and to-day she had spoken of him as a remarkably clever man, and had reproached him with lacking self-confidence. True, her waywardness defied all calculation; but she loved him nevertheless.
When he had gone, Gretchen stood up and shut the piano. "Three strings broken!" said she, dolefully, but yet with a certain satisfaction; "never mind, I have managed once more to keep him from making his offer. Now papa may settle the rest." With that she sat down at her work-table once more, brought out her book, and plunged anew into the 'History of Teutonism!'