CHAPTER X.
"There comes Werner again!" Arno said to his father, when an extra post was again seen approaching Castle Hohenwald; and the announcement did not seem particularly to delight the old Freiherr.
The Finanzrath had spent a few days in Dresden about the end of May in arranging for another prolongation of his leave of absence. He had been successful, and upon his return had remained at the castle only a few days when a letter arrived for him from Paris. He immediately declared that he must go to Berlin, where a friend whom he had not seen for a long while was awaiting him. He departed, remaining away but a few days, when he returned, only to leave again after two days, this time to see an old college friend in Hanover, and to take a trip to Cassel, where another of his friends resided. Even after this journey he was not content to stay quietly at home. He had scarcely been at the castle for a week when he left it again for a somewhat longer tour; he wished to visit the South German capitals, Stuttgart and Munich, passing several days in Vienna, and returning by way of Dresden.
The Freiherr received Werner's announcement that this time he should be absent two weeks, and could not return to the castle before the beginning of July, with a smile of satisfaction; he was not at all displeased that his eldest son should break in upon his prolonged stay at Castle Hohenwald with these frequent journeys. He as well as the other inmates of the castle felt relieved when the carriage with the Finanzrath inside rolled out of the court-yard.
"Werner makes the atmosphere dense; he kicks up a dust wherever he goes," the old man was wont to say in excuse of his evident relief at his son's departure; and was it therefore to be wondered at that he greeted with a sigh Arno's exclamation, "There comes Werner again!"
Arno, too, frowned when old Franz announced the Herr Finanzrath's arrival a few moments before Werner himself entered the garden-room.
He paid his respects to his father and greeted his brother with his usual quiet courtesy, in which, however, there was never any genuine cordiality, and then he dropped into a comfortable seat beside the old Baron's rolling-chair. "Home again at last!" he said. "I travelled all night to reach Hohenwald as quickly as possible, and I bring news of vivid interest, especially for you, Arno. Not only for Arno, however, but for every one who carries a good Saxon heart in his bosom. To arms, Arno! It is time that you girded on your sabre again. I hope you will write to the king this very day to ask for your appointment to your former military rank, for I tell you beforehand in confidence that France is about to humble the arrogance of Prussia, and I need not say what side we Saxons should take in the fray; the time has come to revenge ourselves for Königgratz and Sadowa!"
"Are you mad, Werner?" burst out the old Freiherr, who really thought that his son had taken a little too much wine.
"I mad? Do you think madness or the love of change has driven me away upon these various journeys lately?" the Finanzrath exclaimed in his turn. "I must tear the veil from your eyes and rouse you from your fancied security; the time for action has come,--a time that calls upon you, Arno, in especial. You must re-enter the army immediately, for it is eminently advisable that the number of right-minded Saxon officers should be as large as possible, that Saxony may not fail to do her duty at the right moment. There is a wide-spread secret alliance in process of formation against Prussia. War will immediately ensue upon its completion. The question is not of months, perhaps not of weeks, but only of days, for every preparation is concluded, and our action must be prompt and sure."
"From what source have you gathered this wondrous information?" Arno asked, incredulously. "Since when have you linked yourself with those who decide the destiny of nations?"
"Spare your sarcasm, Arno!" the Freiherr said, crossly; "and you, Werner, come to the point. I should like to know something of this wonderful mess you seem to have been helping to cook."
"You shall be informed, father, in a very few words of the present condition of political affairs." Werner began by ascribing the quarrel between Prussia and France to the choice of a Hohenzollern prince for king of Spain, and then continued, "Napoleon will compel William to choose between a humiliating compliance, that will deprive him of all prestige, and war. Now, relying upon the power of the North German alliance, upon the military treaty with the South German states just concluded, upon the friendship of the Emperor of Russia, and upon that of England, Bismarck, who has no suspicion of the secret alliance against Prussia, to which, in addition to the dispossessed princes, Austria, Bavaria, Würtemberg, and the hereditary princes of Russia belong,--Bismarck, I say, will undoubtedly choose war. This you will see by next week, perhaps sooner. We can rely upon Russia absolutely; this I have learned in conference lately with my friend Count Repuin. The heir to the throne of Russia hates Bismarck, and the Emperor's voice is powerless in the matter; the anti-Prussian party at the Russian court is too large and too powerful. The French preparations are all complete. Immediately after war is declared a French army will invade the very heart of Germany, and will be received by the acclamations of the liberated Hanoverians."
"And what part have you assigned to me in the struggle which you describe as so near at hand?" asked Arno, who during the preceding glib explanations had been pacing the apartment with eyes fixed upon the ground, but who now paused and confronted his brother.
"The one marked out for you by your duty as an enemy of Bismarck, as an officer of the Saxon army which was so shamefully defeated in 1866, and, above all, as a true Saxon patriot," the Finanzrath replied. "If Saxony is to hold its own as the equal of Bavaria and Würtemberg after the downfall of Prussia, if it is to have its full share in the distribution of the Prussian provinces, this unnatural Prussian alliance must be dissolved, and that speedily. Now our king will hardly be in a condition to do this; at the beginning of the war he will be deterred by considerations that have no weight, however, with Saxon patriots. As in 1813, York, by his independent action, decided the destiny of Prussia and earned the gratitude of his king--as Saxon troops then, following the ignorant leading of the common people, went over to the German army with flying colours, so must they now, in the coming conflict, act independently for their fatherland. It will produce a tremendous impression upon the entire German people, and conduce essentially to the speedy overthrow of Prussia, if the Saxon regiments sunder the Prussian alliance and turn their bayonets against Prussians. The animus of our troops is good, but it will avail nothing unless their officers take the initiative, and, unfortunately, many of these are not to be relied on. Our corps of officers is tainted with a Prussian mania; they must be recalled to their duty. Let this be your task, Arno. You can easily influence your old comrades; you can arouse their Saxon patriotism, inflame their slumbering hatred of Prussia. You must instantly apply for reinstatement in your old rank. I have provided that your application should receive immediate attention."
"Treason, then! You would incite me to degrading perjury and treason?" Arno exclaimed, looking at his brother with flashing eyes. "Matters have gone far indeed when a Hohenwald can make such proposals to his brother!"
The Finanzrath was quite unprepared for such a reply. He had never imagined that Arno could refuse to undertake the task assigned to him, and therefore had he explained his schemes and hopes with such reckless frankness. He suddenly found himself exposed to a danger of which he had not dreamed. What if Arno should misuse the knowledge thus gained! He grew pale, but speedily recovered his composure. He must show no sign of fear; the game might yet perhaps be won.
"Who talks of treason?" he rejoined, with forced calmness. "Is it treason for a Saxon officer to obey his king's command? Is it treason to break an alliance that was framed by mere brute force? Was York guilty of treason in 1813? Has not posterity honoured him as the saviour of his country? Do not judge too hastily, my dear Arno, do not yield to a momentary emotion, but ask yourself, after calm reflection, whether you are justified in refusing your services to your country at her sorest need. Can you ever forget that you are a Saxon? Our king and country are to be delivered from the Prussian yoke; remember that, Arno, before you decide."
Arno looked at his brother with profound contempt. "I will hear no more!" he said, sternly. "What your share may be in the disgraceful intrigue of which you speak I do not know, nor do I wish to know. Go your own dark way, but do not think to mislead me by your sophistry. I know my duty. You reckon upon my hatred of Prussia, upon my love for our own little Saxon land; your reckoning is false from beginning to end. Yes, I do hate the arrogant, ambitious Prussian, but I have a fiercer hatred for the arch-enemy of all Germany, and it fills me with shame and indignation that a Hohenwald should dream of inciting his brother to a disgraceful league with France in a war with Germany. This is the error in your prudent calculations: you reckon upon the hatred of Prussia in South Germany, in Hanover and Saxony, but that hatred will vanish like chaff before the wind when it comes to be a question of defending Germany against French lust of conquest. Neither you nor your noble Russian friend Count Repuin can use the German love of country as a factor in your calculations, for you do not appreciate its existence, nor that there are happily but few scoundrels in Germany so ready as yourself to satisfy their own selfish ambition by giving over their fatherland to French greed of territory."
The Finanzrath sprang up in a rage, but his brother, without waiting for a reply, left the room. "Insulting!" Werner exclaimed, quite beside himself.
"Not one word against Arno!" the old Freiherr said, sternly. "Every word that he uttered found its echo in my soul, and I thank God that there is at least one Hohenwald who retains within him a sense of right and honour and a genuine love of his country. Not a word, Werner! I will hear no more of your disgraceful schemes; not now, at all events. I must be more myself than I am now when I speak with you again. Now leave me; I wish to be alone."
Werner hesitated for a moment, but judged it wisest to make no attempt at present to recover the ground he had lost. "I obey your commands, sir," he said; "I hope calm reflection will induce you to change your mind, and that it will also have its effect upon Arno."
After the angry dispute with his brother, Arno walked out into the garden, and, feeling the need of quiet to collect himself, took his seat upon a rustic bench nearly hidden in a clump of shrubbery. It was a favourite retreat of his, and from its seclusion he could overlook almost the entire garden. Here, then, he sat down, and resigned himself to thought. So buried was he in reflection that, although he was aware that Fräulein Müller and Celia came from the castle to take their morning walk, and passed quite near him, he did not heed them: his mind was filled with Werner's dark schemes.
Thus he remained for he could not tell how long, when he was suddenly roused from his reverie by the sound of the voice that never reached his ear without thrilling him to the heart. He looked up. Walking along a leafy side-path came Werner and Fräulein Müller; she was speaking, and looking, not at Werner, but upon the ground. Arno thought he perceived that her voice trembled, although he could not distinguish what she was saying.
Werner's reply was made in so low a tone that not a sound reached Arno's ear; he could only perceive its effect upon Fräulein Müller, and it aroused within him a feeling of indignation. There was pain that was almost agony expressed in Anna's face as she listened eagerly to her companion's whispered words. Werner spoke long and persistently, bending above Fräulein Müller the while, and devouring with passionate admiration the lovely downcast face. As the pair passed his retreat Arno caught two words from his brother's lips, "Count Repuin," and marked how colourless was Anna's cheek, down which a tear was trickling from beneath the drooping eyelid.
They passed, and at the end of the woodland path turned into a walk leading to the castle. Celia here joined them. Near the castle gate they paused. Fräulein Müller, with a slight inclination to Werner, left him and entered the castle with Celia. The Finanzrath turned into a side-path leading to the forest and disappeared from Arno's sight.
What had passed between Werner and this girl? Was there a secret understanding between them? Arno felt his blood boil at the thought. Had Werner really induced Anna, who had hitherto treated him with cool reserve, to grant him a private confidential interview? She had begun her morning walk, accompanied by Celia, and had sent away her pupil that she might speak alone with Werner. Arno sprang from his seat in uncontrollable agitation; but he grew calm again as he remembered the pained expression of Anna's features, the tear that had rolled down her pale cheek. If there were some private relation between them, it certainly was not a friendly one. Still the mere thought that Werner by some fine-spun scheme had induced the girl to accord him this tête-à-tête, and to listen with eager attention to his words, was torture to Arno. If he had succeeded thus far, what might not be the result? She must be warned, warned against the vile arts of the betrayer! Thus much was certain. But who should warn her? To whom could he confide his fears? To his father? Impossible! The Freiherr was not overfond of Werner, but he would indignantly have rejected the idea that his son, that a Hohenwald could be guilty of such infamy. Celia, then? An innocent child of sixteen? No! Celia never must dream that her eldest brother could harbour a thought that could wrong her dear companion. And there was no one else in the castle who could speak one word to Anna upon such a subject; he had held himself so aloof that he never could advise her in so delicate a matter.
To Styrum he would turn in this need; but first he would narrowly observe Anna and Werner, that he might be able to give his friend a clearer idea of the relations between them than he had yet been able to gain for himself.
The result of his observation during the next few days could scarcely be called favourable,--it strengthened his suspicions as to Werner's dishonourable intentions, but he arrived at no decided conclusion.
There was evidently a change in the relations between Werner and Anna. She no longer avoided casually meeting the Finanzrath; she did not cut short her morning walks with Celia when he joined them, but Arno never again saw them alone together.
The political horizon darkened daily,--the newspapers were read with avidity. None of the Hohenwald household could resist the conviction that a political convulsion was at hand; there were constant discussions at table and in the evenings in the domestic circle as to public affairs. On these occasions Celia's governess, who took an eager interest in the conversation, proved herself as enthusiastic an admirer of Bismarck as was the Finanzrath his bitter opponent.
One morning, in the library, Arno was eagerly discussing the news of the day with Fräulein Müller. Celia's teacher was unusually interested; she declared that her hopes for her country were centred on Bismarck. "His enemies," she said, with ardour, "conspire in secret; in their foolish conceit they believe him blind to their manœuvres, deaf to their machinations, but I am convinced that he clearly sees through their dark dealings. A Bismarck is not to be hoodwinked by such men as the Herr Finanzrath."
Scarcely were the words uttered when she seemed to regret them,--they had evidently escaped her unawares.
Arno listened surprised. "You know of my brother's schemes, then?" he asked.
There was nothing for it but to reply. "They are not difficult to divine; he has made no secret of his desires and hopes; but he and all his associates will find themselves deceived. Your brother in his miserable plans reckons upon the pitiable jealousies of all petty governments; but he is out in his reckoning,--the German people is not yet so degraded as to lend itself to so frivolous a game. If war should really be declared, Germans will, with a few disgraceful exceptions, rally promptly around the banner that will wave in the front of the battle to vindicate German honour and faith against all rude assaults. The very attempt now made to retard Germany in its march towards internal unity will but bear it more swiftly to its goal of unity and freedom!"
As she spoke her dark eyes sparkled, her cheeks glowed, and Arno thought he had never seen her so enchantingly beautiful.
"I trust from my soul that you are a true prophet!" he rejoined.
She rewarded him for these words by a brilliant glance of appreciation. "I knew that you must think thus," she said, with emotion; "you will be among the first to forget an ancient grudge when the time comes to stand forth for German honour and German right. The Freiherr Arno von Hohenwald will be at hand when the German people is summoned to the defence of the fatherland; of that I am convinced from my very soul." She held out her hand to him: he seized it and pressed it to his lips: for the moment he scarcely knew what he was doing; his past, his prejudices, were all forgotten; it was as if a dark cloud which had enveloped him were suddenly rent asunder, revealing to his mental vision a bright, sunlit future. "Your trust shall not be deceived," he said, with enthusiasm. "Be sure that when the battle begins I shall be ready. And when I return from the field, will you not give me a kindly welcome?"
He had not released Anna's hand; he bent over it to kiss it once again, when it was suddenly withdrawn. He looked up, and was shocked by her altered looks. Her cheeks were deadly pale, the light of enthusiasm in her dark eyes was gone: they were veiled in tears. "This must not be, Herr Baron," she said, in a low monotone.
"Have I offended you?" Arno asked, startled.
"No--but--I must leave you, Herr Baron; I must not and will not listen any longer!"
She would have turned and left the room, but Arno took her hand again and held it fast. "But you must listen," he said, gravely; "there must be truth between us. You will not yield to an over-sensitive delicacy of feeling that is unworthy of you, you will not leave me without letting me tell you that the light of your candid eyes has banished the mists that hung about me; your words have broken the spell that parted me from you. My heart is filled with sunshine; I know now that I love you with my whole soul, that I have loved you from the first moment that I saw you in the quarry. I have struggled with this love, I have even tried to hate you; have in my blind folly often shocked and offended you, because I would have it that the deception which so blasted my first youthful passion had killed all power to love in my heart. I know now how grossly I deceived myself. I am in your eyes a gloomy, irritable misanthrope; you can accord no liking to one who has so often wounded you by his severity; but it is my dearest hope that one day your love may be mine, and in this hope I shall leave you when duty calls me to the field. It will henceforth be the star of my life."
Anna had listened in silence to this torrent of words; her hand still rested in his: she did not withdraw it until he had ended; then first she raised her eyes and looked him full in the face with an expression of profound sadness. She did not reply at once; she could not for a few moments sufficiently master her emotion to attain an external calm. When she spoke at last, it was with an evident tremor in her voice. "There must be truth between us," she said; "you require it, Herr Baron, and I owe perfect truth both to you and to myself. Your sudden and unlooked-for declaration has destroyed the hope in which I had found peace. I hoped to regard Castle Hohenwald as my home; I hoped to pass years here, sheltered from the sorrows which have poisoned my life; but your words drive me forth into the world again!"
"Anna! I conjure you----"
"No more, Herr Baron! I must not listen to you; must not permit hopes that can never be fulfilled. You say that the hope of one day winning my love will be the guiding star of your life; banish the idle thought, for never,--I swear it by Almighty God,--never may I return your love."
"You love another, then?" Arno exclaimed.
"No, Herr Baron."
"Then I will not resign the hope you call idle. I implore you not to turn from me; I ask for so little, for no promise, only for permission to love you."
"And this little I must not grant. I pray you leave me, Herr Baron; we must part forever. I must not again expose myself to a danger from which I thought myself safe with you; my duty as well as my honour forbids me to listen to you. Once more I entreat you to leave me!"
"You rob me of all hope?" Arno asked, gently.
"All!"
She spoke so calmly, and with such absolute firmness, that Arno despaired of moving her; he did not venture to add a single word of entreaty; after so decided a rejection he could no longer refuse to accede to her request. He took her hand once more, kissed it passionately, and hurried from the room.
He never looked back, and therefore could not see how, even before the library door had closed upon him, Lucie's hardly-won composure utterly forsook her. She sank into a seat, buried her face in her hands, and burst into a passion of tears.
Half an hour afterward she was seated at her desk in her room, writing to her dearest, her only friend, Adèle.
"I must leave here immediately,--every hour of my stay at Castle Hohenwald is a period of unspeakable torment for me. I had feared and hoped so much from this place; both fears and hopes are unfulfilled, and I must leave Hohenwald, where I was so content. I love the old Freiherr like a father, and I know he is fond of me; scarcely a day passes that he does not tell me that the sun has shone more brightly in Hohenwald since I came here. And I love my darling Celia, dear, innocent child; with my whole heart do I return the tender affection she lavishes upon me,--her progress delights me, but I must go.
"Do not, dear Adèle, think me variable and fickle,--my heart bleeds at the thought of leaving these dear people, but it must be; you will say so yourself when you hear all. You know I have faithfully described my life here to you. I have told you of the distaste with which the Finanzrath's attentions inspired me. I did all that I could by the cold reserve of my manner to impress him with this fact. I did not think he would ever succeed in forcing me to grant him a private and confidential interview, and yet this he has done. About a week ago he came into the garden where Celia and I were taking our usual morning walk. He had just returned from one of his frequent journeys, and I could not avoid replying to his courteous greeting. He joined us and entered into conversation with us. He talks extremely well, and even I could not help being amused by his lively descriptions of his travelling adventures, while Celia, who is not very fond of her eldest brother, was much entertained. Suddenly he paused, and, turning directly to me, said, 'But I have not told you the most interesting experience of my trip, Fräulein Müller.' Then, with a searching glance, he added, 'I have seen several friends of yours, and have talked of you a great deal.'
"I felt the blood mount into my face at these words. I could not conceal the terror with which they inspired me; whereupon the Finanzrath, with a satisfied smile, went on, 'I need only mention the name of one of my friends, of Count Repuin, to convince you how interesting was our conversation about you.' The detested name of that terrible man produced upon me all the effect that the Finanzrath had doubtless expected. It was only by a strong effort that I could keep myself from fainting. Celia noticed my pallor; she had not heard her brother's words,--he had chosen a moment for them in which she was lagging behind to pluck a flower. 'What is the matter, dear Anna?' she exclaimed, in terror; 'you are deadly pale.' In fact, had she not put her arm about me I think I should have fallen, although I soon recovered myself. The Finanzrath offered me his arm, and despatched his sister to the castle for a vinaigrette. I did not dare to refuse his proffered aid, lest I should offend him, and thus I found myself alone with him, forced to continue my walk leaning upon his arm. 'I thank you, Fräulein Müller,' he said, as soon as Celia had left us, 'for your readiness to grant me this tête-à-tête. It gives me a precious proof of your confidence in me,--a confidence which, I promise you, you never shall regret. Chance has revealed to me your secret; but I give you my word of honour it shall remain buried in my breast.' He then told me how he had learned who I was. Repuin is his friend,--he had seen him in Munich, and one day, while Repuin was engaged in writing letters, had whiled away the time by looking over some photographs in a book upon the Russian's table. Many of these he was familiar with; but his astonishment was great when in one of them he recognized his sister's governess. He waited until Repuin was at leisure, and then his first thought, so he told me, was to ask the Count whether he was acquainted with Fräulein Anna Müller, the original of the photograph; but, reflecting that Count Styrum had made it a request that no curiosity should be shown regarding my past, he suspected that I should prefer the Count's remaining in ignorance as to my whereabouts, and therefore he took up the book of photographs again, as if casually, and suddenly exclaimed, 'A pretty face, Count; who is this girl?' showing my likeness as he spoke.
"'Not a girl, but a married woman,' Repuin replied. 'Sorr's runaway wife!'
"'I could not so command my features,' the Finanzrath continued his narrative, 'as not to show the surprise I felt at this information. Fräulein Anna Müller the wife of that Herr von Sorr whom Repuin had presented to me! It seemed impossible!
"'And then the shameful words which Repuin had uttered, "Runaway wife." I could not rest without some explanation. Can you wonder at it, Fräulein Müller? "The picture reminds me of a lady whom I saw not long ago," I said.
"'Scarcely had I uttered these words when Repuin sprang up in great agitation. "You have seen her?" he cried. "There is no other face that resembles hers; tell me where you saw her. I have been searching for her for months, but she has vanished utterly."
"'What was I to tell him? I saw instantly that he must be put upon a false track, and on the spur of the moment replied that I had shortly before travelled in a railway carriage with a young lady who closely resembled the picture.
"'My answer was so prompt that Repuin was fortunately deceived. He never suspected that I was misleading him, and questioned me further with the greatest eagerness. I told him that the young lady had been my travelling companion from Berlin to Cassel, but that of course I had not exchanged a word with her.
"'"I will go to Cassel this very night!" Repuin exclaimed, in the greatest excitement. "I must find her! I have sworn to do it though it should cost me half my fortune. Now that I have traced her she shall not escape me."
"'He was completely deceived by my invention, and I could no longer doubt that it was to destroy all trace of your existence that you had taken refuge in Castle Hohenwald under a feigned name. I remembered your enigmatical letter to me, and was convinced that I had found its explanation. Let me assure you that it was entirely owing to my profound sympathy for you that I now begged the Count for further particulars concerning you. What I heard filled me with horror and indignation. With cynical candour he informed me that he had spent fabulous sums upon Sorr that he might be near his charming wife, who at last, when he had actually purchased her of her wretch of a husband, vanished without a trace.'
"Such, dearest Adèle, was the Finanzrath's story, which he concluded with assurances of his profound secrecy.
"I cannot describe my sensations while he was speaking, of mingled fear lest he should betray my secret and give Count Repuin some clue to my retreat, and aversion for the man himself. I quivered with anger when he called me, as he did repeatedly, 'dear Fräulein Müller,' and yet I did not dare to show him that it offended me, lest I should provoke his resentment. Celia, who came from the castle with the salts, at last relieved me from my embarrassment. The Finanzrath left us. Then I determined to leave Hohenwald, but, as the days slipped by and the Finanzrath made no further allusions to my secret, I decided to remain, since the noble old Freiherr would surely grant me his protection in case of any disagreeable advances from his son. Each day the shadow that the Finanzrath's revelations had thrown upon my peaceful life here faded still more; my courage returned to me. I believed myself quite safe in my beloved Hohenwald with my dear Celia, when one wretched moment blasted all my hopes.
"I must go; I cannot stay here, for Arno has just told me that he loves me. I thought his heart was dead to all affection, and he has just declared his passionate attachment for me.
"I suffered indescribably when all that I could do in answer to his frank avowal of affection was calmly and coldly to crush his hopes forever. I wept bitter tears when he left me, and yet--yet the consciousness of his love brought happiness with it as well as misery.
"Strength was given me to fulfil my duty; not by look or word did I betray what I felt in rejecting him, but could I resist him a second time? I must flee from my own weakness.
"I can write no more, dear Adèle, and must close. I am filled with but one desire,--to go away from here as soon as may be. I rely upon your aid again, my dear, kind friend; try to find me another asylum. I do not care where it is or what it is, only let it be far, far away from here and from all of you.
"Help me, dear Adèle; protect your
"Lucie."