Doctor Fabian and Margaret Frank sat in the superintendent's library with an open book before them. The French lessons had really begun. The teacher was grave, earnest, and enthusiastic, but the pupil seemed listless and indifferent. She had agreeably relieved the monotony of the first lesson which had been given a few days before, by asking the doctor all sorts of questions about his past history, his position as Waldemar Nordeck's tutor, the manner of life at Altenhof, etc. To-day she was bent upon finding out what study so absorbed this incorrigible book-worm, and the retiring scholar, who wished to keep his "History of Ancient Germany" a profound secret, was driven almost to distraction by her pointed questions.
"Would it not be well for us to begin our lesson now, Fräulein Frank?" he asked, imploringly. "We shall accomplish nothing if we go on in this way; we are not speaking French at all."
"Pshaw! who wants to pore over stupid French lessons, when so many interesting and amusing things are going on here?" exclaimed Gretchen, impatiently turning over the leaves of her French reading-book. "My head is full of entirely different things; life at Villica is wonderfully exciting just at present."
"Ido not think so," returned Doctor Fabian, patiently turning back to the page, where they had left off reading.
The young lady gave him an inquisitorial glance.
"Then you must be blind and deaf, Doctor Fabian," she said. "You, above all others, ought to know what is going on in the castle, for you are Herr Nordeck's friend and confidant. Something has occurred, you cannot deny it; now that the young landlord has left, everything over there is in a great commotion. Messengers are flying to and fro, Count Morynski and Prince Leo are passing back and forth from Villica to Radowicz, and our haughty, domineering princess looks as if the end of the world were just at hand. And such goings-on as there are all night in the park! There is a constant fetching and carrying, a continual tramping up and down. You must know all about it, for your windows open on the park."
Herr Frank had stipulated that French only should be spoken at his daughter's lessons, and here Gretchen was rattling on glibly in her native tongue, as if no French phrases were in existence.
Doctor Fabian turned uneasily on his chair, and said, despairingly, in his best French, that he knew absolutely nothing of these matters, and that they were no concern of his.
"Papa says the very same thing," persisted Gretchen, "whenever I ask him; he cannot possibly be involved in any conspiracy, and yet his silence would lead one to believe that he was, Don't you think so?"
"My dear mademoiselle, my best efforts to teach you will be useless if you are constantly absorbed in these outside things. I have been here half an hour, and we have not read a single page. Attend to your lesson, I entreat you."
He offered her the book certainly for the sixth time. She finally took it with a resigned air, and said in an injured tone,--
"Ah, I understand! I am not to be let into the secret; but I shall discover it, and then you will all be sorry you placed so little confidence in me. I certainly know how to keep a secret."
She began to read a French poem, but in an exasperated tone and with a purposely wretched pronunciation which almost drove her teacher to despair.
She was in the midst of the second stanza, when a carriage entered the yard. No one was in it, but the coachman seemed perfectly well acquainted, for he unharnessed immediately. A maid-servant entered with the announcement that Assessor Hubert, being detained by business in the village, had sent on his coachman to inquire if he might again presume on the superintendent's hospitality.
There was nothing unusual in this request. The assessor always passed the night at the superintendent's house when official duties' brought him to Villica, and he managed that this should occur pretty often. Herr Frank had driven out into the country, but would return at evening. Margaret gave orders that the coachman and his horses should be cared for, and that the guest-chamber should be put in order.
"When the assessor comes, our French lesson will be over," said Margaret to the doctor; "but, never mind, he shall not disturb us long. Before he has been here five minutes, I will drop a remark concerning the secret doings in the park, and he will hurry over there and hide behind a tree; then we shall be rid of him."
"For heaven's sake, don't do that! Don't send him over there!" cried Fabian, in the greatest terror. "Keep him here by all means."
Margaret was startled. "What does this mean, Doctor Fabian? I thought you knew nothing, absolutely nothing; why, then, are you so alarmed?"
The doctor lowered his eyes and looked like a detected criminal with no hope of escape. But he was incapable of falsehood, and finally said, looking the young girl full in the face,--
"I am a peace-loving man, Mademoiselle Frank, and I never intrude into the secrets of others. I actually know nothing of what is going on in the castle, but during the last few days I have been forced to see that something is going on. Herr Nordeck has only given me a hint now and then, but I have no doubt that the proceedings here involve great danger."
"Not forus?" replied Gretchen, with a feeling of the utmost security. "Herr Nordeck is away, the assessor cannot seize him; you are beyond suspicion; and as for the princess and Prince Leo--"
"They are Waldemar's mother and brother; do you not see that every blow directed against them will strike him too? He is master of the castle, and responsible for all that occurs there."
"And so he should be," exclaimed Gretchen, excitedly. "Why does he go away, leaving every gate and door open to conspiracy? Why does he side with his relatives?"
"He does not side with them," returned Fabian; "on the contrary, he opposes them. His journey has the sole purpose--but, my dear young lady, do not force me to speak of things which I dare not mention even to you. This much I do know: it is Waldemar's earnest wish to protect his mother and brother. At his departure he made me promise to see and hear nothing of what took place in and around the castle; your father received similar instructions. I heard Waldemar charge him to see that the princess remained unmolested during his absence; and now, when the superintendent is away, some ill chance brings the assessor here; he is bent upon making discoveries, and will do so, unless we can manage to prevent it. I am perfectly helpless."
"That comes from concealing things from me," pouted Gretchen. "If confidence had been placed in me, I should have had a timely quarrel with the assessor, and he would not have come here for many a day. But I shall think of some plan."
"Do so by all means!" entreated the doctor. "You have great influence over the assessor; keep him here; he must not go near the castle."
The young girl shook her head dubiously. "You do not know Hubert," she said; "nothing will detain him here if he once scents conspiracy or mischief, as he surely will if he stays at Villica. He must not remain in this house. Ah, I have it now! I'll let him make a proposal to me, (he always begins one, but I never allow him to finish it,) and then I will refuse him. He will be so furious that he will rush headlong back to L----."
"I will upon no consideration consent to such a thing," protested the doctor. "Whatever happens, your life's happiness must not be sacrificed."
"Do you suppose that my life's happiness is at all dependent upon Assessor Hubert?" asked Gretchen, with a scornful curl of the lips.
Fabian certainly believed this to be the case; he had received the assurance from Hubert's own lips.
"Such things are too sacred for trifling," he said, reproachfully. "The assessor would sooner or later learn the truth, and would be deeply wounded, perhaps estranged from you forever."
Although nothing would so much have delighted Gretchen as an eternal estrangement from the assessor, her conscience reproved her for the trifling part she had contemplated acting. After a moment's reflection, she said: "Then the only alternative left us is to set him upon the wrong track. All Villica is involved in intrigues, why should we not follow suit? But, seriously, do we not conspire against our own government when we prevent its representatives from doing their duty?"
"The assessor has no special orders," replied the doctor, growing courageous all at once. "In coming here he pursues only his own ambitious schemes. We do no wrong in averting an unnecessary calamity which might result from the inordinate zeal of an official."
"Well, then we will have recourse to a little piece of strategy. The assessor must not remain here over fifteen minutes; if he does, he will be out on the chase for conspirators. There he is now coming across the yard. Leave all to me;--now let us resume our French lesson."
When the assessor entered a few moments after, Fräulein Frank was reading the third stanza of her French poem. He was delighted to find that Doctor Fabian had kept his word, and that the future counsellor's wife was diligently acquiring that higher culture so indispensable to the exalted position she would one day occupy. He greeted both tutor and pupil very graciously, and after some polite inquiries after the superintendent, took the proffered seat.
"Your former pupil has surprised us all," he said, complaisantly, to Doctor Fabian. "Do you know that on his way through our town he called upon the governor on official business?"
"I knew that he proposed doing so," replied Fabian.
"His Excellency was much gratified by the visit," continued Hubert, "for he had abandoned all hope of aid from this side. Herr Nordeck was also so amiable as to invite the governor to take part in a hunt at Villica, and he hinted of other invitations no less surprising."
"Did his Excellency accept?" asked Gretchen.
"Certainly! He considered the invitation a great concession on the part of a man who has so long been under hostile influences, and felt in duty bound to accept it. Really, Doctor Fabian, you would do me a great favor if you would give me some definite information concerning the actual position of Herr Nordeck--"
"You will learn nothing from Doctor Fabian; he is more reserved even than our young landlord himself," interrupted Gretchen, feeling bound to come to the rescue of her accomplice, who was no actor and could not play his part properly. A sense of guilt almost choked him; he could not banish the thought that the assessor was to be deceived, and that he was to aid in deceiving him. Gretchen, however, took the matter less seriously, and marched straight on to her purpose.
"Will you take tea with us, Herr Assessor?" she asked. "You undoubtedly have business over at Janowo?"
"Not that I know of. Why just there?"
"Well, I only meant--We have heard so much of the proceedings over there for some days past, that I thought perhaps you had been commissioned to make a search in that place."
The assessor was fully aroused. "Conceal nothing from me, I beseech you!" he said, eagerly. "Tell me all you know about Janowo."
The doctor pushed back his chair unobserved. In his own eyes he was the blackest of conspirators, while his pupil showed a surprising talent for intrigue. She allowed herself to be questioned, and little by little she revealed all she had learned in the last few days, but with one important variation--she changed the field of operations from Villica to Janowo, the adjoining estate. Her plan succeeded far beyond her expectations. The assessor bit eagerly at the bate, and when Margaret had told all she knew, he sprang to his feet in feverish excitement.
"Excuse me, Fräulein Frank," he said, "for not awaiting your father's coming. I must return to E---- at once."
"But not on foot; it is half an hour's walk."
"I must goincognito," whispered Hubert, mysteriously. "I will leave my carriage here, so that it may appear as if I were still at your house. Do not expect me to supper. Good-bye, Fräulein Margaret." So saying, he hurried away.
"He is going to E----," said Gretchen, exultingly, "in search of the two gendarmes stationed there; he will hasten with them to Janowo, and all three will pry about there until late at night. Villica is well rid of them."
Her anticipations were realized; the assessor returned from his expedition at a very late hour. As it had naturally been unsuccessful, he was out of humor, and, besides, he was chilled through and through. Unaccustomed to the night-air, he had taken such a severe cold that even Gretchen felt some sympathy for him. She made him herb teas, and nursed him the whole day with a solicitude that more than consoled him for his affliction. Unfortunately, Gretchen's thoughtful care and evident anxiety strengthened his conviction of her devoted love for him. Doctor Fabian also called upon the invalid, and showed so much sympathy for him, that the assessor was much affected and greatly comforted. He did not know that all these attentions sprang from the remorseful feelings of the two conspirators, and he finally returned to L----, not cured of his cold, but in the best of spirits.
The inmates of the castle little dreamed to whom they owed their security upon that night, when all their secret doings were in danger of being unveiled. At the very moment when Doctor Fabian and Margaret Frank were arranging their plan, a grave family consultation took place in the apartments of the princess. Count Morynski and Leo were in full travelling costume; the carriage which brought the count and his daughter half an hour previously, stood waiting at the door. Leo and Wanda had withdrawn to the deep recess of the central window, and were engaged in earnest conversation, while the princess and her brother also conversed apart, in a half audible tone.
"As matters stand," said the princess, "it is fortunate that circumstances require your immediate departure. I am glad to have Leo go with you, for he could not remain at Villica if Waldemar should assume an attitude of open hostility."
"And will you remain, Maryna?" asked the count.
"I must; it is the only thing I can do for you at present. I believe with you that an open conflict with Waldemar would be useless and dangerous. We have, for the time being, abandoned Villica as the centre of operations; but you and Leo can still send messengers here, and receive tidings from us in return. The castle will also be your refuge in case the worst should happen, and you be obliged to recross the frontier. Peace will not be violated on this side. When do you think of crossing?"
"Probably to-night, and the last transport of weapons will follow us. We must take them all away before Waldemar's return day after to-morrow, for he will be likely to have the castle searched."
"He will find nothing," said the princess; "we have obeyed his orders. But he shall atone for his tyranny. I have in my hands the means of retribution, and also those of arresting his course if he should attempt to go further."
The conversation was here interrupted by the approach of Leo and Wanda. "Mamma, it is impossible for me to change Wanda's determination," said Leo, in an exasperated tone. "She persists in remaining at home, and positively refuses to come to Villica."
"What foolishness is this, Wanda?" asked the princess, gazing at her niece in astonishment. "Months ago it was arranged that you would come to me when the long contemplated absence of your father should occur. You can not and ought not to remain alone at home. I am your natural protector, and you ought to stay with me."
"I beg your pardon, Aunt Maryna, but I can not and will not be a guest in a house whose master stands in open hostility to us."
"Do you suppose it is agreeable to your aunt to remain here?" asked the count, reprovingly. "She makes the sacrifice for our sakes; can you not be as magnanimous as she?"
"But my presence here is not needed," replied Wanda, excitedly. "The reasons that influence my aunt do not affect me at all. Let me go home, papa."
"Yield, Wanda," entreated Leo; "stay with my mother. For my sake, overcome your hatred for Waldemar, and remain at Villica."
He seized her hand, but she forcibly withdrew it. "Let me go, Leo," she said. "If you knew why your mother desires to have me near her, you would be the first to oppose it."
"Bronislaw, assert your paternal authority, and command your daughter to stay at Villica," said the princess, sternly.
"If you force me to remain," returned Wanda, highly incensed at these harsh words, "my father and Leo shall know the reason. You wish to place me as a shield between you and your son. You think me the only one Waldemar will not sacrifice, the only one who can restrain him. I do not believe it, for I know him better than you do; but it is immaterial which of us is right. I will not make the trial."
"No, you shall not make it," broke out Leo; "you shall remain at home. If Waldemar's old passion is not buried and forgotten, you shall not pass a day in his presence."
"Control your anger, Leo; it is quite uncalled for," said Wanda; but her own voice indicated anything but composure. "I shall not again permit myself to be a tool in my aunt's hands. I once trifled with this man and with his love--I shall not do so a second time. He has made me feel his contempt; I know how the remembrance stings him; but that was the mere whim of a thoughtless child. I would rather die than become the instrument through which any of my aunt's schemes could be carried out. I could not live to read in his eyes the contempt I should merit."
"Do you then care so much for Waldemar that you would rather die than incur his contempt?" asked Leo. "Can you read the language of his eyes so well?"
Wanda drew herself up to her full height; her cheeks glowed, her eyes flashed, she gave the young prince a look of withering scorn, and was about to reply to him, when her father interposed,--
"Don't be jealous, Leo! Why embitter our parting, and wound Wanda's feelings at the last moment? Since you insist upon it, my daughter shall remain at home. Your mother will yield to you on this point, but you must cease harassing Wanda by your suspicions. Time is passing, and we must say good-bye."
He embraced his daughter tenderly, and seemed loth to release her from his sheltering arms. The princess waited in vain for the approach of her son, who stood before her with sullen brow and downcast eyes, biting his lips until they bled.
"Will you not bid me adieu, Leo?" she asked.
He started from his gloomy revery. "Not now, mamma. I am not needed just yet; I will remain a few days."
"Leo!" exclaimed the count, angrily, while Wanda, with the same indignant outcry, released herself from her father's embrace. But these protests only strengthened the young man in his determination.
"I shall remain!" he persisted; "two or three days can make no difference. I shall accompany Wanda home, and assure myself that she is to remain there; and, above all, I shall await Waldemar's return, and obtain an explanation from him. I shall question him in regard to his sentiments for my betrothed. I shall--"
"Prince Leo Zulieski will do his duty," interposed the princess, in a clear, cold voice, contrasting strangely with the excited tones of her son. "He will accompany his uncle as he has promised to do, and not for one moment leave his side."
"I cannot," said Leo, vehemently,--"I cannot leave here with this anguished suspense gnawing at my heart. Wanda's hand has been promised to me, but I am never allowed to assert my rights; she has always coldly sided with my mother, saying that she would be the prize of the contest in which I am about to engage. I now demand that she shall be publicly and solemnly declared my betrothed bride, in Waldemar's presence--before his very eyes. He has lately undergone a surprising transformation from an obedient vassal to lord and master; ere my return, I might find him transformed into Wanda's ardent lover."
"No, Leo, that will never happen," replied Wanda, contemptuously; "but your brother certainly would not hesitate to do his duty, even at the cost of love and happiness."
She could not have uttered words more exasperating; Leo completely lost his self-control.
"O, not he! but it might cost me both if I should now leave you, with your boundless admiration for his character and his patriotism. Uncle Bronislaw, I ask only a three days' postponement of my departure; I shall claim it, even without your consent. I know that nothing of importance will occur immediately, and I shall be with you in season."
The princess was about to interfere, but the count forestalled her, saying peremptorily and authoritatively, "It is for me to decide this matter, Leo, and not you; I demand the obedience you have promised me as your commander. You must either go with me now or be dismissed from my service. Take your choice."
"He will obey you, Bronislaw," said the princess, solemnly, "or he is no longer my son. Decide, Leo! Your uncle will keep his word."
Leo had a violent conflict with himself. His uncle's threat and his mother's command would have alike proved powerless, now that his jealousy was so thoroughly aroused, if he had not known that by remaining he would incur Wanda's scorn; that decided him. He sprang to her side, and again seized her hand.
"I will go," he said; "but promise me that during my absence you will avoid Villica, and see my mother only at your own home. Promise me, above all, that you will keep aloof from Waldemar."
"No such promise is needed," she said, mildly; "I have already refused to remain at Villica."
Leo breathed more freely. Yes, it was true, she had positively refused to endure his brother's presence.
"Some day I may apologize to you for wounding your feelings," he said; "but I cannot do so now, Wanda." He pressed her hand convulsively, and added, "I do not believe you could betray yourself and us by loving this Waldemar Nordeck, who is our enemy and our oppressor. You must cherish no sentiment of respect or admiration for him. It is bad enough for me to know that he loves you, and that you are near him."
"Leo's impulsive nature will give you great trouble," said the princess in an undertone to her brother. "He cannot comprehend the meaning of the word 'discipline.'"
"He will learn it," replied the count, firmly. "And now good-bye, Maryna; we must go."
The parting was brief, and less tender than it would have been but for the discord which had preceded it. Wanda received Leo's embrace in silence and did not return it, but she threw herself with passionate devotion upon her father's breast. As the mother bade her son good-bye, she whispered some words of warning in his ear of so grave a character that he immediately released himself from her arms. The count once more silently pressed his sister's hand, and then both men passed into the hall, wrapped their cloaks around them, and entered the carriage which awaited them. There was one more greeting to the two ladies who stood at the window, and then they were whirled rapidly away.
The princess and her niece were alone. Wanda threw herself upon a sofa and buried her face among the cushions; the princess stood at a window and gazed long and wistfully after the carriage that was bearing her darling into conflict and danger. When she turned toward Wanda, her white face and agitated manner plainly told what parting with her son had cost her.
"It was unpardonable in you, Wanda," she said, "in an hour like this, to arouse Leo's jealousy in order to make him obey you; you know how susceptible he is upon this point."
Wanda raised her head; there were traces of tears upon her cheeks.
"You forced me to it, aunt," she said; "I had no other alternative. And, besides, I had no idea that Leo could be jealous of Waldemar."
"My child," replied the princess, in an icy tone, "I have never taken Leo's part when he has tormented you with his jealous suspicions, but to-day I see that they are well founded. I fully concur in your determination not to remain here, where you will be thrown into daily association with Waldemar. For Leo's sake and your own, you had better go."
Wanda started from her reclining posture. She gazed at her aunt with dilated eyes, and white lips that were incapable of speech; she felt like one on the brink of a precipice; almost fainting, she grasped the arm of the sofa for support.
"You deceive yourself," she at length found strength to say; "or you wish to deceive me. I have not deserved this insult."
The princess gazed long and searchingly into the face of her niece. "I know that you have no premonition of your danger," she said, "and therefore I warn you. Somnambulists must be wakened before they reach those giddy heights where awakening will cause their destruction. Energy and an iron will have always been the traits of manly character you most admired; Waldemar undeniably possesses these, while Leo, who is endowed with so many brilliant qualities, unfortunately is wanting in them both. Do not place too much reliance upon your hatred for Waldemar; some day you may find it quite another sentiment. I seek to open your eyes before it is too late, and I believe that the day is not distant when you will thank me for so doing."
"I already thank you," replied Wanda, in a low voice.
"Let us dismiss the subject, then; I hope there is no danger as yet. To-morrow I will accompany you home. I must now see that the necessary precautions are taken to-night, so that no harm may befall us in these last moments of our stay at Villica. I will myself give the orders, and superintend everything in person."
So saying, the princess left the room, firmly convinced that she had done her duty and averted an imminent danger by thus boldly rending asunder the veil which had covered Wanda's heart. If she could have seen the young girl sink back upon her seat as if crushed by remorse and sorrow, she would have discovered that the giddy height where an outcry might prove fatal had been reached already. No cry of alarm could now avail, either to warn or to rescue. The awakening came too late.
It was mid-winter. Thick snows enveloped field and forest, icy fetters stayed the rejoicing flow of brook and river, and chill blasts swept over the frozen, desolate earth.
Another storm had broken loose and was raging more fiercely than the warring elements of nature. Over the border the long dreaded insurrection had at length begun. All Poland was in commotion, and many provinces were in open revolt. All was quiet as yet on the Prussian frontier, and bade fair to remain so, although many Polish families lived on this side the border, and many Germans of Polish lineage had gone to swell the ranks of the insurrectionists.
Villica suffered most. Its position rendered it one of the most important advance-posts of the whole province, and for four years it had been the seat of Polish plots and intrigues. Its great extent rendered it impossible to guard the whole estate fully; and although Waldemar had taken a decided stand in favor of his father's country, it was difficult for him to circumvent and thwart the secret plans of his mother, who was resolved to give all the aid and comfort in her power to her own people. The princess kept her word. Believing herself rightfully entitled to Villica, she did not leave it, and from her present influence Waldemar saw what it had meant to give her that sole control of the estates which she had enjoyed so long. He was now bitterly atoning for his former neglect and indifference.
His castle was no longer the theatre of party machinations, but the estate was mostly in the hands of Poles who had been systematically organized by the princess and were working in her interest. The young landlord found himself betrayed and sold on his own soil. He was nominal master, while his mother was the real mistress. Although she did not openly assume control, her subordinates were well trained, and executed her orders rather than Waldemar's. All Villica stood in secret but determined opposition to its master. He was the victim of intrigues and subterfuges; everything was done to evade his commands and thwart his plans, but he could never discover the culprits, or bring them to punishment. None refused obedience to his face, but he knew that disobedience was the watchword all over his estates. If he enforced submission in one place, resistance raised its head in ten other places; if he triumphed one day, new obstacles confronted him on the next. If he should begin to dismiss his subordinates, all must go, for all were alike at fault. Besides, unless open proofs could be brought against his employés, his contracts with them were binding, and even could he have been rid of them, he would find none to supply their places. Any act of violence at the present crisis might prove fatal.
The young landlord was thus forced into a position exceedingly difficult for a nature like his, because it required patient and quiet endurance. His mother had taken this into account in forming her plans; she thought that Waldemar must soon grow weary of the contest in which they were about to engage. He must surely learn that he could do nothing when all Villica sided with her and opposed him, and he would in his impatience and vexation resign the reins he had so violently wrested from her.
Patience had never been a prominent virtue in Waldemar Nordeck's character, but his mother was again deceived in him. He showed that he had inherited her own indomitable will and energy; no obstacles, no opposition could move him, he was forever on the alert, he was resolved to take the control of everything into his own hands. This course of action made him many enemies. He had been hated merely as a German, he was now hated for his own sake. His servants ere long began to fear him, and fear compelled their obedience.
The relations between Waldemar and his mother grew more and more intolerable, but they maintained a show of outward politeness. Neither questioned nor upbraided the other, and so it was possible for them to remain together in the castle without revealing the mutual rancor and bitterness that filled their hearts. Waldemar became more reserved than ever; he met his mother only at meals, and then not every day, for she passed a great deal of time at Radowicz with her niece. Wanda kept her word, she never came to Villica, and Waldemar in like manner avoided Radowicz.
More than three months had passed since the departure of Count Morynski and his nephew. It was generally known that they were both involved in the insurrection, the count being one of its leaders, while Leo held an important command under his uncle. In spite of distance and all other obstacles, each held unbroken intercourse with the princess and Wanda. Both ladies had reliable and accurate information of all that occurred, and messages constantly passed to and fro.
At the hour of noon, on a cold, blustering day, Assessor Hubert and Doctor Fabian were coming from the village where they had chanced to meet. The assessor wore several wrappings, his recent painful experience having taught him to beware of taking cold. The doctor also was well protected from the severe climate which did not seem to agree with him; he was pale, and evidently ill at ease. Hubert, on the contrary, wore a most satisfied expression; the state of affairs along the border brought him often to Villica, and he now designed remaining for several days in the neighborhood. He had quartered himself, as usual, at the superintendent's, and this fact was no doubt one reason for his exuberant spirits.
"There is a grandeur, an absolute grandeur in Herr Nordeck's character," he said, in his pompous, official tone. "We of the government well know how to appreciate it. This accursed Villica would long since have given the signal for revolt if its master had not stood firm as a rock against insurrection. All L---- admires him and respects him."
Doctor Fabian sighed. "I wish he deserved that admiration less; it is counterbalanced by the hatred he has to confront here. Every time he rides out alone I tremble, for he can never be persuaded to use the slightest precaution."
"Your fears are well grounded," replied the assessor, gravely; "Nordeck's employés here in Villica are capable of any crime, even of firing a shot from some ambush. I think that his only protection thus far has lain in the fact that he is the son of the Princess Zulieski, but who knows how much longer this may be a safeguard against that national fanaticism which is now at its height? What a life they must be leading in the castle just now! It is strange that the princess remains there. Terrible scenes occur between the mother and son, I suppose. Tell me all about them."
"I would not like to gossip about family affairs."
"O, I can use discretion," said Hubert, curious to find out something he could relate in L----, where the young landlord and his mother were a frequent topic of conversation. "You have no idea what prodigious stories are being told in the city. It is said that young Nordeck broke up a band of conspirators who had been wont to assemble in the cellars of the castle, with Count Morynski and Prince Leo at their head; that as the princess was about to interfere, her son placed a pistol at her breast, and then she cursed him, and both of them--"
"How absurd!" interrupted the doctor. "I give you my word that not a syllable of all this gossip is true. None of these violent scenes ever took place between Waldemar and his mother. They are not that kind of people; they are verypoliteto each other."
"Are they really?" asked the assessor, doubtfully. He was very reluctant to give up that story of the pistol, and the maternal curse; it was far more telling and dramatic than Doctor Fabian's unadorned statement. "But conspirators were in the castle," he said, "two hundred of them, and the young landlord put them to flight. O, if I had only been there! Unfortunately I was over at Janowo where I made no discoveries. How could Fräulein Frank, who is usually so shrewd, be deceived in such a matter?"
The doctor was silent. The mention of Janowo embarrassed and confused him. Fortunately for him, they at this moment reached the spot where their ways parted; Fabian bade his companion good day, and the assessor proceeded to the superintendent's house.
Meantime a serious interview had taken place between the superintendent and his daughter. Gretchen had at last assumed a decidedly warlike attitude; she stood before her father with her arms folded, her blonde head thrown back; she even stamped violently to give due emphasis to her words.
"I tell you, papa, I don't like the assessor, and even if he should sigh around me for another six months, and you should encourage him ever so much, I could never be compelled to say yes."
"My child, no one wishes to compel you. You very well know that you can do just as you like, but the matter must be finally settled. If you are determined to persist in your refusal, you must not give Hubert any more encouragement."
"I don't give him the least encouragement," replied Gretchen, almost crying with vexation. "I treat him just as hatefully as I know how, but it is of no use. Ever since I nursed him so faithfully through that cold, he persists in thinking I am in love with him. If I should refuse him to-day, he would smile, and say, 'You don't mean it, Fräulein Frank; you love me, you know you do!' and he would be here again to-morrow."
Herr Frank took his daughter's hand, and drew her close to his side. "Gretchen, now be serious," he said, "and tell me what you really have against the assessor. He is young, rather good-looking, and possessed of some property; he can give you a very good social position. I admit that he has his peculiarities, but a woman of the right sort can make something of him. His highest recommendation is his unbounded love for you. What has changed you so toward him? You did not at first look upon him with such unfavorable eyes."
This question embarrassed Gretchen somewhat. She did not answer it immediately. At length she said,--
"I do not love him; I do not want him; I will not marry him!"
This positive declaration disarmed the father; he answered, with a shrug,--
"Well, do just as you like. I shall tell the assessor the plain truth before he leaves us. I shall, however, wait until the moment of his departure; perhaps your reason may return to you by that time."
"I shall never be of any different opinion," the young girl said, indifferently; then seating herself at her sewing-table, she took up a book and began to read.
The superintendent paced impatiently up and down the room; at length he paused before his daughter.
"What thick volume is that I see constantly in your hands? Is it a grammar, and are you studying French so very diligently?"
"No, papa; grammar is a very tiresome study to me. At present I am studying the 'History of Ancient Germany.'"
"Studying what?" asked the superintendent, scarcely believing his ears.
"The History of Ancient Germany," repeated Gretchen, emphatically. "It is an excellent work, full of the profoundest learning. Would you like to read it? Here is the first volume."
"Don't bother me with your Ancient Germany!" exclaimed the superintendent. "I have all I can do with ancient Slavonia. How do you come by such learned rubbish? Doctor Fabian must have lent you the book; but that is not according to agreement: he promised to teach you French, and instead of doing so, he brings you musty old books out of his library, not a word of which you understand."
"I understand every word," retorted the young girl, angrily. "And this is not a musty old book; it is an entirely new work, and Doctor Fabian himself wrote it. It is creating a great sensation in the literary world, and two of our greatest scholars, Professors Weber and Schwarz, are having a controversy about the book and its author. You will very soon see that he has become a greater man than either of them."
"Schwarz?" said the superintendent, thoughtfully. "That must be our assessor's celebrated uncle at the university of J----. Doctor Fabian may consider himself fortunate if his books attract even the hostile attention of so renowned a man."
"Professor Schwarz knows nothing at all," declared Gretchen, with the infallibility of an academic judge. "He will disgrace himself as much by his criticism of Fabian's book, as the assessor did by his attempted arrest of our young landlord. You might know they were uncle and nephew--for they are both fools!"
A new light appeared to dawn upon the superintendent; he gazed searchingly at his daughter. "You seem perfectly well informed in these university matters," he said; "you must enjoy the unlimited confidence of Doctor Fabian."
"And so I do," replied Gretchen, proudly; "but it has cost me great effort to win his confidence. In spite of his great talents, Doctor Fabian is the most modest and reticent of men. I had to question him a great deal before I found all this out, and it was a long time before he would lend me his book; but I became angry at last, and sulked and pouted, so that he did not dare refuse me any longer."
"My daughter," said the superintendent, gravely, "I fear the assessor made a stupid blunder in advising you to take French lessons of this learned doctor. That quiet, pale-faced tutor, with his soft voice and timid manners, has really bewitched you, and is the sole cause of the shameful treatment poor Hubert receives at your hands. Are you sure you are not acting foolishly? Doctor Fabian is nothing but an ex-tutor, who lives with his old pupil and draws a pension from him. He may write learned works for recreation, but they will bring him little money; they will certainly insure him no certain income. It is fortunate that he is too timid and too sensible to base any hopes upon your predilection for him; I think it best, however, for the French lessons to end, and I shall arrange this in a way that will wound no one's feelings. When you, who scarce have patience to read a novel, study the 'History of Ancient Germany,' and grow enthusiastic over such dry stuff merely because the doctor wrote it, I can but have my suspicions."
Gretchen was highly displeased at her father's words, and was about to utter a vehement protest, when the superintendent was called from the room. Assessor Hubert could not have come at a more inopportune moment, but the evil star which had always controlled this young man's wooing, now guided him into the presence of his beloved. He was, as usual, all politeness and attention, but Gretchen's ill-humor was so marked that he could not refrain from alluding to it.
"You appear out of sorts, Fräulein Margaret," he began, after several ineffectual attempts to enter into conversation. "May I inquire the cause?"
"I am vexed that the most talented people should be the most timid, and show so little self-confidence."
The assessor's face lighted up at these words. 'Talented people--timidity--no self-confidence!' Ah, yes! One day he had drawn back when in the very act of kneeling, and to this day he had not ventured upon a formal proposal. In truth, the young lady herself was to blame for it all, but still she was vexed because he had so little self-confidence. He must redeem himself without delay; no hint could be plainer or more direct.
Gretchen saw at once the effect of her thoughtless words which Hubert had naturally applied to himself. She made haste to conceal her "History of Ancient Germany," as Doctor Fabian had charged her not to mention it to the nephew of his literary rival. As the assessor's glance rested upon her, she said, sharply, "You need not follow me around with a detective's eye, sir; I am engaged in no conspiracy, and I don't want to be watched so narrowly."
"My dear young lady," replied the assessor, in a dignified and yet an injured tone,--for he was conscious of having given only tender glances to the mistress of his heart,--"you reproach me unjustly; I gave you no such glance, and you are inclined to deride my zeal in the performance of official duty, when you should consider it my greatest merit. The security and welfare of the nation rest upon us public servants; thousands have to thank us that they can lie down in peace at night; without us--"
"If you had been our only safeguard, we here in Villica might have been murdered long ago," interrupted Gretchen; "Herr Nordeck is a more powerful protection than the whole police force of L----."
"Herr Nordeck seems just now to be the object of universal admiration," remarked the assessor in an irritated tone; "I see that you, too, are infatuated with him."
"Yes, very much so; with him and no other!" exclaimed Gretchen, throwing a mischievous glance at the assessor; but he only smiled.
"No momentary infatuation would content me," he said. "I hope for quite another feeling in the one soul which is akin to mine."
Gretchen saw that she had gained nothing by this harsh treatment of her admirer. Hubert was evidently on the point of making a direct proposal, but the young girl was determined not to hear it. She did not want to refuse him; she preferred delegating that unpleasant duty to her father. She therefore asked the first question that occurred to her.
"You have not for a long time told me anything about your renowned uncle, Professor Schwarz. What is he doing now?"
The assessor saw from this question that his future wife felt a deep interest in his relatives, and it gave him intense satisfaction.
"My poor uncle has suffered great vexation of late," he replied. "A rival party has sprung up against him at the university (what great man does not suffer from the envy and jealousy of others?) Professor Weber stands at its head. This gentleman literally hankers after popularity; the students are blindly infatuated with him, everybody speaks of his amiability, and my uncle, who disdains such artifices and never caters to public opinion, encounters ill-will on every side. The rival party have brought forward an obscure individual solely to annoy him, and are trying to compare his book on Ancient Germany with my uncle's works."
"Is it possible?" observed Gretchen.
"Yes, with my uncle's works!" repeated the assessor, indignantly. "I know neither the name nor the antecedents of this insignificant rival; my uncle does not enter into details in his letters, but the affair has so enraged him, and his controversy with Professor Weber has reached such a height, that he thinks of tendering his resignation. Of course, this is a mere threat, the resignation would not be accepted; the university would meet with an irreparable loss if he should leave it, but he thinks it necessary to intimidate his opponents."
"I hope they are duly intimidated," said Gretchen in such an indignant tone that the assessor started back; but the next moment he approached nearer, and said,--
"It affords me great pleasure to see you take so deep an interest in the welfare of my uncle. He is already interested in you; I have often written to him of the house and the family where I have found such a friendly welcome, and it would delight him to hear that I had formed a--"
Again he was on the way to a proposal. Gretchen sprang up despairingly, rushed to the open piano, and began to play. She under-estimated the perseverance of her suitor, for the next moment he stood at her side, listening attentively.
"Ah, the Longing Waltz! My favorite piece! Yes, yes; music, far better than words, expresses the longings of the heart--is that not so, dear Margaret?"
Gretchen saw that everything conspired against her to-day. This happened to be the only piece she could play without notes, and she could not venture to rise and fetch her music, for the assessor's manner plainly indicated that he was only awaiting a pause in the playing to give utterance to the emotions of his heart. She therefore rattled off the Longing Waltz with all her might, and to the time of a military march. The discord was horrible, a string snapped, but the tumult was loud enough to thwart any attempt at a declaration of love.
"Isfortissimoproper in a sentimental piece like this?" interposed the assessor at the top of his voice. "I think it should be played inpianissimo."
"I prefer to play it infortissimo," retorted Gretchen, thumping still more forcibly at the keys. A second string broke.
The assessor grew nervous. "You will ruin this splendid instrument," he said, in his loudest key.
"There are plenty of piano-tuners in the world," cried Gretchen; "I want to help one of them;" and seeing the assessor's discomfiture, she banged at the keys with all her might, and coolly sacrificed a third string. This proved effectual. Hubert saw that speech would be impossible to him to-day, and he beat a retreat, vexed at the girl's coquetry, but still with unshaken confidence in himself and in the final success of his suit. This wilful young lady had nursed him so tenderly when threatened with that lung-fever, and only an hour ago she had called him talented, and reproached him for his lack of self-confidence! Her obstinacy was indeed incomprehensible, but she loved him in spite of all.
When he was gone, Margaret rose and closed the piano. "Three strings are broken," she said, regretfully, and yet with an air of great satisfaction; "but I have kept him from proposing, and papa can arrange matters so that he never will." She then seated herself at her work-table, took from one of its drawers the "History of Ancient Germany," and was soon absorbed in its contents.