CHAPTER XXVICLOUDS ON THE HORIZON
In the mean time, John Toker and Helmer were chatting in the salon. The two men were sitting in the embrasure of one of the windows behind a screen of tall, big-leafed plants, and were unseen and undisturbed.
“This would seem an admirable place for a pair to flirt in,” remarked Toker, as he led his guest to it; “but this privacy will also suit us. I have as yet had no good opportunity to thank you for your address; moreover, this afternoon, I have read the translation of it, and so only now realize how completely our ideas and aims are in agreement. You say quite rightly, mankind has reached the turning of the ways. Either—Or. It truly cannot continue as it is. Therefore, we must put forth all our energies, even if our energies are of no great magnitude. And I have a high opinion of the power of the pen; it can charm in a playful way; but it can also be a very mighty instrument of harm and of help.”
“What you say, Mr. Toker, reminds me of a conversation which I had not long ago with a fellow-countryman, a boyhood friend of mine. He asked me how I could devote my art, my talent to the service of politics and such inartistic objects. I answered, ‘Because there is a fire, my dear friend. And if—in such a case—one holds in one’s handsa brimming pitcher, one uses it to quench the flames and not to water flowers.’”
“Quite right; so let us put out the fire. News which has reached me to-day makes me fear that there is going to be a great disturbance. The work which we are doing here—the exerting of influence on thinking men—proceeds—quite too slowly, I am sorry to say—in spite of all our apparatus for wide publicity.”
“Yes,” agreed Helmer; “it is a dribbling, instead of a flood. Before minds gradually change, the avalanche of collected stupidity comes rolling down and buries the whole region. Here I am speaking in metaphors again.... I keep detecting myself in this habit. Prince Victor Adolph thought that pardonable in a poet. Now, that I think of it: this prince—in spite of his position—is on our side in all his inclinations, and so—precisely because of his position—he might successfully help us in the endeavor to put out the fire.”
“I had the very same idea. You know his reputation?”
“More than that: I know his inclinations.” And Helmer related the interview which he had held that very same day with the prince.
“Well, he seems to be a splendid young man,” said Toker. “To-morrow, at eleven o’clock, he is coming to see me, in order to plan a campaign. The rescue, the saving of the lives of a hundred thousand people—that is to be the object of our conspiracy. He just told me....”
“Just told you? Is he here?”
“Yes, he came at my invitation. At this instant he is on the terrace, as my daughter told me, and is sitting in the moonlight very sentimentally talking with Miss Garlett.”
Helmer made a sudden motion and suppressed a groan. This did not escape the older man’s attention.
“Oh, Herr Helmer, is that disagreeable to you? Perhaps you are somewhat sentimentally inclined to your pretty table-companion and fellow-countrywoman yourself?... That would be quite natural. Don’t shake your head...young men are quite properly in love; I like to see it. I will not detain you ... go out on the terrace and interrupt the flirtation, if you object to it. It would be much better for the young lady if she should incline her heart to you....”
“Good Heavens! I could not enter into competition with the prince ... if things are actually as you seem to think.”
“Why not? ‘Faint heart never won fair lady.’”
“You yourself, Mr. Toker, set me very different tasks from that of winning a maiden’s heart.”
“Hold on! Hold on!... I am no fanatic, no man of one idea. To work for a great public object does not require that a man should give himself body and soul to this affair. One must not neglect one’s duties toward one’s own happiness. When one has the foundation of domestic content, of cheerful peace of mind, one can work much more effectively for a great cause. It gives harmony and balance. And then, energy grows out of it as a treesprings out of a rich soil—you see, I can also speak in figures. Well, good-bye for now. I will go around among my guests for a little while longer. To-morrow we will take up our plot again.”
Helmer hastened out on the terrace: not as Mr. Toker had advised, to break up the flirtation, but to observe it. Yet in spite of his zeal to find that which would cause him misery—he found nothing: the couple was not to be seen on the terrace.
Franka had been for some time in her room. She did not turn on the light, but went out on the balcony and threw herself into her rocking-chair. She wanted to think over what had occurred in the very same atmosphere in which it had occurred—in the fragrant moonlit, summer night.
She drew her lace shawl closer over her shoulders and leaned back in her chair, rocking slowly to and fro. She recalled the words which had so overwhelmed her with amazement. Again she seemed to hear distinctly the accent in which “Franka, I love you” had been spoken and the still more momentous “You must not for an instant misunderstand me: I offer you my hand.”My hand—my hand... like a refrain which runs in one’s head these words sang themselves to her, and here again were the same warm breath of the night, the same penetrating perfume of violets which emanated from the already half-faded bouquet that she wore on her bosom. He was in no hurry for a reply—so much the better! Had she given either a hasty “Yes” or a hasty “No,” perhaps she might be evennow regretting it. So the decision was postponed: it was left to her free and deliberate choice, whether she should seize this marvelous Future, big with portentous eventualities, or reject it.... “Difficulties, reserves.”... Her pride revolted ... why had she not said “No” on the spot? But is it not true—a king’s son: such a step is not taken so easily. And it would involve sacrifices, renunciations, struggles....
That very morning she had been anticipating with some longing a thunderstorm of love—to tell the truth, the image of another lover had arisen in her mind; now in truth such a storm had burst upon her, but it had not brought any relief to her mental strain. In the dazzling lightning-stroke of that declaration of love by the one, the image of the other had grown somewhat pale, but was not wholly obliterated. Evidently this other did not love her. He had constantly shown himself active in promoting the interests of Victor Adolph; that very evening in the hall....
“Are you there, Franka?” It was Frau von Rockhaus. She had turned on the light in the room and was now standing in the balcony door. “I did not see you any longer downstairs and supposed that you had gone to bed.... Why didn’t you call me?”
“I knew that you would soon be following. It is pretty late.”
“That was a very pronounced wooing this evening,” observed Frau Eleonore. “Did he propose at last?”
“Who?”
“Who! The prince, of course!”
“You are inquisitive, dear Eleonore. Let us go to bed. I am sleepy. Good-night.”
She rang for her maid and went to her bedroom. But she found no rest.
Victor Adolph also spent a restless night. During the past forty-eight hours events and impressions had been overwhelmingly sweeping in upon him. That address of Helmer’s, opening new perspectives before his soul; the tidings that perhaps a throne would be offered him; that conspiracy for the advantage of the contemporary world, which John Toker wanted to conduct with his assistance; and finally this summer night’s dream which had ended with such a sudden and mighty flaming up of passion that he had surrendered to it for all time....
The tormenting part of the situation was that he saw himself facing not merely one, but several fateful questions. When he wanted to devote himself to thoughts of his beloved arose the vision of the beckoning throne, and when he attempted to balance the chances and the obligations which such a change of conditions would bring with it, then arose the image of the woman whom he loved—to whom he had offered his hand. And what difficulties heaped themselves up before him! What battles there would be! Had not this step been indiscreet? Aye, that it had; but is passion ever discreet?
When the prince, agreeably to his promise, reached Toker’s study the next morning, Toker hadalready gone through his mail. He had found various additional particulars which tended more than ever to arouse his fears regarding the threatened dangers. He went to meet the exalted visitor.
“You are very punctual, Prince.”
Newspapers and letters were arranged on a round center-table.
“Please, let us sit down without delay; I have put in order the various papers which might serve to show my motives for the action I have in mind.”
“I have faith in your action, Mr. Toker, without your proving motives,” said the prince, as he took his place at the table.
Toker followed his example and put a few English, French, and German newspapers before him. “Please read first of all the passages marked in blue pencil.”
“Those are sheer alarmist prognostications,” remarked the prince, after he had glanced through the designated passages. “‘War-in-sight’ news. And actually maps—already—of the probable seat of war!”
“And now read the passages marked in red.”
“Bad news again: bomb-throwing ... strikes ... conspiracy ... lynchings ... hunger-revolts ... riots....”
“In other words, we are facing a war on the one hand and a revolution on the other.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Toker, but perhaps you take the matter too tragically,” said the prince, pushing the papers to one side. “The rumors of wars are apparently false or are merely incitements—wehave been reading the like for many years regularly in the papers and yet nothing comes of them. These revolutionary attacks do happen here and there and are always speedily suppressed: order is immediately restored.”
“Yes, yes, it has been smouldering now for a number of years. But we must not wait until the flames break out; it is time for us to trample out the sparks.” Toker spoke these last words in a wrathful tone. “Patience ceases to be a virtue,” he went on to say, “when it consists in allowing misfortune to approach; then it should be called simply unconcern. Now read this also.” He handed the prince some letters and telegrams for him to glance over. “Those are private communications from parties in a position to be well informed. They show much more clearly than the news published in the papers that the evil so much talked about is ready to appear.”
The prince read the letters and dispatches carefully. “In truth,” was his comment, “things do look a bit threatening. What do you propose, Mr. Toker, in order to avert the danger? And do you think there is still time enough?”
“The term ‘too late’ should never be allowed when the question concerns a work of help or rescue. As you yourself just remarked, for a number of years conflicts have cropped up in the most varied places; panics have been precipitated; people have been getting ready for the conflict; the catastrophe has been generally expected, and then nothing has come of it. In early times it was not so. When thewell-known black speck appeared on the political horizon, one could expect a storm with certainty. Now new forces have entered into the world, which have succeeded in driving away the clouds. The peaceable intentions of the rulers have been strengthened; the pugnacity of the nations has been curbed—the world is gradually changing. And perhaps these perils also”—he pointed to the newspapers and letters—“will be dissipated and there will be time to act. Only we must not delay. If we allow things to go on unchecked, the crash must come.”
“Well, what is to be done? And what couldIdo to help? A little princelet like me—I need not tell you—has no power and no liberty. Even at this minute, while I am engaging in this conspiracy with you behind the back of my honorary jailer, General Orell, I am deeply involving myself in disgrace!”
Toker smiled. “This is not your first offense, as I have reason to suspect. Your attendance at popular meetings is well known; your predilection for the reading of sociological books, not receivable at court, is well known. But for the very reason that you have a knowledge of the problems of the day and an open mind, I have turned to you. So, then, listen—this is the thing:—A new Hague Conference is about to be opened....”
“Pardon me,” interrupted Victor Adolph, “these conferences have so far failed to bring about the change expected of them.”
“Still, they have brought something significant, new, and great into the world—the generality of the people certainly know very little about them.They have not attained their object for the reason that they have been diverted from that object by their own members:—an article was smuggled into the programme that had no business to be there—regulation of war:—for a large proportion of the delegates consisted either of soldiers or adherents of sovereignty. These men were assiduous in keeping the old principles safe from the danger with which they were threatened by the conference as originally proposed—that is, from compulsory arbitration and limitation of armament. But the old principles have not remained entirely intact, for there were also representatives of the new ideas at The Hague, who fortunately achieved the foundation of new institutions. Imagine a congress of freethinkers in which the majority of the delegates were bishops and where the larger part of the time was spent in discussing the regulation of ritualistic forms!... There you have a picture of the first Hague Peace Congresses. But I am speaking of the next one. Since the last one, things have ripened. Since then, the desire for peace has strengthened among all the governments, and especially among the masses. Since then the waste of money on armaments has reached such dimensions that universal bankruptcy is at hand. Since then, the battleships have grown into such monsters, and all the other instruments of death and destruction have attained such fiendish power, that they serve not so much for fighting as for combined self-annihilation.... Since then, the common people have been brought to the end of their endurance by loans andtaxes and high prices. Since then, the proletariat, always hostile to war, has more and more come to a realization of its solidarity and power. Since then, so many friendships, treaties, and conventions have arisen that it needs now only an impulse for a general European ‘Legal Union.’ Since then, all the groups interested have combined in an international organization. Since then, a world-conscience has come into being. Since then, the atmosphere has been conquered. Since then, human thoughts have attained wings.... Since then....”
The old gentleman had worked himself into a fine heat; he had got up, and at every sentence his voice had grown louder. At the last “Since then,” he suddenly stopped and sat down again. Then he went on in a calmer tone:—
“Here we will pause—at the conception ‘Soaring Thoughts.’ The delegates to the next conference are to be inspired with such thinking. They must bring with them the resolution to accomplish something great, something bold. The position of affairs has so entirely changed in the mean time, with its promising new possibilities, and the dangers, so nearly threatening, must be looked in the face unflinchingly. That would be our salvation.”
“But what can I do in all this, Mr. Toker?”
“Prince, you by virtue of your rank can obtain the ear of those on whose will the programme and the results of the conference depend.”
“And you believe that I could influence that?”
“You can explain. They will listen to you. You can show what golden bridges this conference offers.You can bring it about that a peace league of rulers shall be formed.”
“Rulers are the prisoners of their armies....”
“If they do not break these chains, which also at the same time bind the peoples,—then the peoples will do it; and that would be terrible, like every deed of despair.”
“And do you believe that the armies would consent to disband?”
“Who speaks about ‘disbanding’? If the States make an alliance for one common international law, then their armies—the greatly reduced armies—will unite for the protection of the laws that affect them all in common, for defense against attacks from those that stand outside the alliance, for the maintenance of internal order, for affording aid....”
“I understand....”
“Yes, I knew that you are one who would understand. But do you understand also why I, an American, have the fate of Europe so deeply at heart; why I want to see the Old World protected from a catastrophe, why I likewise wish that its aristocratic and monarchical institutions, so long ago with us outlived, should, at least for a time, remain intact?”
“Perhaps from an artistic sense,” suggested the prince, “just as we preserve picturesque ruins.”
“‘Ruins’ is too strong a term; they are still proud and lofty castles; only they are—let us say—a little dilapidated: a violent storm would devastate them; they can still be safeguarded by rods. Again, why do I feel and act for Europe? You must know that we Americans, at the bottom of our heartscherish a family-feeling for Europe. It is the cradle of our race; it is the ultimate source of our civilization—physically and spiritually, it is our ancestral fatherland. We love it and are thankful to it. Therefore it comes about that, when we accomplish any great technical advance or conceive some higher social or political ideal, we immediately feel the impulse to let the ‘whole world’—and by that term we think especially of Europe—share in it. We are like children who have been educated far away, have made our fortune there, and regard it as a pleasant duty to send back to the aged parents some share of the treasures we have gained.... But let us return to our conspiracy, Prince. You are not the only one with whom I am conspiring. I place my mines in various localities. The Government at Washington is in the alliance. The propositions which it will bring forward at the next conference will not leave anything in the way of ‘High Thinking’ to be desired. I have already spoken with the President of the French Republic—”
“Yes—as I have mentioned before: Republicans—”
“No; that is not the condition. In order that something great may come out of the conference, it is essential that it be approached with magnanimous resolves; we must attempt not only a little step forward, but we must attempt flying. I know one man, one powerful man, who is capable of making such resolves and such a flight. And what I want of you, Prince, is: Speak with the one man—he will listen to you—you are his son!”