CHAPTER XI.
Celia peered into the forest on either side of the road; she had ridden from the castle more quickly than usual, that she might not be unpunctual, and for the first time Kurt was not at his post. She listened with bated breath, but no sound was to be heard except the rustling of the boughs overhead and the soft note of a woodland bird.
What could have happened? He had hitherto always been awaiting her at their place of meeting. How could he allow anything to curtail, even by a few moments, the short hour to which they both looked forward so eagerly? Although he could not be to blame, still she felt aggrieved. Pluto, too, seemed to find his absence very unnatural. He pawed the ground impatiently with his fore-foot and shook his black mane; then pricked his delicate ears with a neigh as a distant crackling of the underbrush was heard, and a minute afterwards Kurt made his appearance. He was very warm and quite out of breath with the haste he had made to atone for his want of punctuality.
"Now this I call scant courtesy!" exclaimed Celia, who had intended to punish him by a cool reception for his tardiness. She was quickly appeased, however, when she saw how warm he looked from his hasty walk. She held out her hand to him, and when he took it leaned down towards him. "You do not deserve a kiss for keeping me waiting so long, but I will temper justice with mercy. Poor fellow! you are terribly warm; you ought not to have walked so fast!"
What had become of Kurt's good resolutions? They had shared the fate that awaits such resolutions generally. How could he resist when Celia smiled so bewitchingly upon him? The temptation was too great. Besides, he had only resolved never by a single word to betray Celia's childlike trust in him, to treat her as a brother would treat a tenderly-loved sister, and is it not perfectly allowable for a brother to kiss a dear sister? He was not wrong in kissing her. Had he been wrong several weeks before, when Celia, after some slight dispute, offered him her rosy lips in token of reconciliation, not to refuse the precious gift? Celia, in her innocent purity, never could have comprehended such a refusal, and would have been deeply grieved by it.
Since then it had become a custom for the young girl to receive him daily with a kiss, and to take leave of him with a kiss, and they called each other by their first names. It would have been ridiculous in Kurt, after becoming so intimate with Celia, to adhere to the formal "Fräulein von Hohenwald" in addressing her. It had vanished; neither Kurt or Celia could tell when or how; it had done so so naturally.
Still, after that kiss of reconciliation Kurt had not felt perfectly comfortable as he walked home to Grünhagen; he was dissatisfied with himself. Cool reflection told him that he had been false to his resolve,--he, a man to whom life and its perils were familiar, should have conquered himself; he should have been a guide to Celia, who was half a child, and who had no idea that there could be any danger in her guileless familiarity. But his heart bore away the victory from his understanding. Kurt quieted his conscience when it would have reproached him. Was it his fault that he did not go directly to Celia's father and declare his love for her, and that she loved him in return? Ah, how gladly would he, if he could, have done this! But the miserable family feud, the invincible prejudice of the old Freiherr, forbade all approach. Should Kurt, then, sacrifice the happiness of his life, his love for Celia, to such a phantom? Should he reject the dear girl's confidence because the old Baron in his obstinacy had an unaccountable hatred for the name of Poseneck? No; he could not and he would not. He never had asked Celia whether she loved him and would be his; but there was no need of such words between them. He knew that her heart belonged to him, and his determination to win her hand was absolute, although he vainly sought in his imagination for some means to attain this end.
Castle Hohenwald was surrounded for him by an insurmountable wall; there was no possible way by which he could approach Celia's father. Did not the Finanzrath whenever he came to Grünhagen loudly lament that it was impossible for him to invite Herr von Poseneck to return his visit? The attempt, too, which Count Styrum had made to influence Arno had been without result. Arno was as inaccessible as his father. Castle Hohenwald was closed against Kurt.
Yet he would not resign hope; he was resolved that his life should not be ruined by a silly prejudice. Although Celia was now too young to bestow her hand where she chose, perhaps, in direct opposition to her father's will, it would not always be so. Thus Kurt hoped in the future for some lucky chance that would make it possible for him to surmount the barriers that kept him from Castle Hohenwald.
With these hopes he soothed his conscience when it reproached him for yielding to the spell that Celia's confidential familiarity cast around him. He knew that no unholy thought stained his devoted love for the dear girl, and knowing this, he believed himself justified in enjoying the bliss of the present.
"But you were angry with me, Celia," he said, as, after her kiss, he walked slowly along beside Pluto. "You were angry with me for keeping you waiting. Confess it; your first words hardly sounded kind."
"Well, yes; I will not deny," Celia replied, "that I was a little vexed and hurt. I had been thinking of you all day long, and you were not here; I did not know what to think. You never kept me waiting before; indeed, you spoil me, Kurt, as does every one,--you, and my father, and Arno, and my dear Anna. You all spoil me, and ought not to be surprised when I am impatient."
"I am only surprised that you forgave me so quickly."
"Oh, I was so glad to have you here, although I ought to have scolded you for walking so fast in this terrible heat. You look warm still."
"I could not help it. I was afraid you would think I was not coming and would ride home again. In my heart I cursed that tiresome Assessor for detaining me, and when at last I escaped from him, I walked straight across the Hohenwald fields to meet you here."
"You need not have done that, you dear, kind Kurt. I should have waited an hour here for you at least." Again she held out her hand to him, and surely it was but natural that he should kiss it passionately.
"Have you another visitor at Grünhagen?" Celia continued, without being put at all out of countenance by the tender kiss imprinted upon her hand. "You said something of a tiresome Assessor who had detained you."
"Yes, an Assessor von Hahn, who has lately been transferred to the courts at A----, saw fit to pay my uncle a visit this morning. With his usual hospitality my uncle invited him to stay, and to my horror he accepted the invitation. He is a commonplace, tiresome man, and incredibly inquisitive. He has only one good quality, which is that he is a distant relative of yours."
"Yes, the Hahns are remotely connected with my mother's family, but I never heard anything of them, and did not even know of the existence of an Assessor von Hahn."
"I assure you it would mortify him excessively to hear you say so. He has already told my uncle and myself much with regard to his relationship to the Hohenwalds, and has deeply lamented that Castle Hohenwald is closed even to near connections. When he heard that your father had consented to have a governess for you he was overwhelmed with astonishment, and asked every imaginable question concerning Fräulein Müller, where she came from, who she was, how she looked; whether she were ugly or pretty, young or old, learned or ignorant. He wanted to know all about her, and I could see was greatly dissatisfied with the scanty information he gathered from us. He tormented me with questions about you and your brothers and your father, and I escaped from him only by slipping off when he was engaged for a moment with the newspaper. My uncle told him that I was in the habit of taking a solitary walk in the forest every afternoon, upon which he offered to accompany me, and was not at all dismayed by the terrible picture I drew of the difficulties of the path through the underbrush. I could not get away from him except by secret flight."
"My precious cousin seems to be a very agreeable man," said Celia, laughing.
"He is insufferable, and yet I ought to be glad of his visit. In his loquacity he supplied my uncle and myself with some important information which made it especially desirable that I should see you this afternoon."
"Information that concerns me!----"
"That concerns your brother Werner," Kurt replied, very gravely. "I am afraid he has allowed himself to be drawn into certain schemes which may place your father and Arno in a very embarrassing situation, although I do not believe that, as the Assessor hinted, they have any share in them. I never regretted so deeply as to-day that your father's and Arno's wretched prejudice against our family made it impossible for me to hasten to Hohenwald to warn your father, and to entreat him to turn a deaf ear to Werner's insidious whispers. I long to do this, but how would he receive one of the hated Posenecks? He would not credit my information, just because it came from me; he would repulse me as an unauthorized intruder. My warning would probably do more harm than good, and Arno is just as inaccessible as your father."
"Unfortunately, you are right," Celia said, sadly. "You would not be kindly received at Hohenwald. But can you not tell me what you wish to say to my father and Arno? I am afraid that neither of them would pay me much heed, but I will induce Anna to help me, and my father at least will be influenced by her. Arno, to be sure, is incorrigible; even Anna has no effect upon him."
"Has Fräulein Müller any influence with Werner?"
"I do not know," Celia replied, thoughtfully. "I have sometimes thought so; at all events, the relations between them seem to me very odd and quite incomprehensible. She cannot endure him, and avoids him whenever she can, and yet he pays her devoted attention. I cannot understand it."
"It might be dangerous, then, to trust Fräulein Müller?"
"Now you are unkind, Kurt!" Celia exclaimed, indignantly. "You must not speak so of my Anna."
"But you yourself said----"
"I never said or thought anything that could imply a want of confidence in her. I trust her entirely. But you have told me nothing of these mysterious schemes of Werner's. I know nothing as yet."
"You shall know all that I know myself, although it may be wrong for me to acquaint a young girl of sixteen with political intrigues existing perhaps only in the diseased fancy of this garrulous Assessor."
Celia hastily withdrew the hand which Kurt had held in his own as he slowly walked along beside Pluto. "You are very disagreeable, Kurt," she said. "I am no longer a child; girls are far more precocious than boys, and at sixteen I may surely be trusted. And I am very much interested in politics: I read the papers daily; have we not often discussed them together? I continually scold papa and Arno for abusing Bismarck as they do."
Kurt could not but smile at her indignation. "Do not be angry with me, dearest Celia," he said. "I will tell you all I know, which, unfortunately, is not much; the Assessor's hints were rather vague and confused. Since you read the daily papers you know well how imminent is the danger of a war with France. At such a time it is the duty of every German to be true to the fatherland, and yet there is a large party in Germany who ignore this, and who, because they are opposed to the Prussian government, wish for a war with France and the overthrow of Germany and Prussia. To this party your brother Werner unfortunately belongs."
"Unfortunately!" Celia said in confirmation of his words.
"Those belonging to it," Kurt continued, "know nothing of true patriotism. Prompted by mean self-interest and by silly hatred of Prussia, they are ready to ally themselves with the Frenchman, the arch-enemy of Germany, who believes that when war is declared all the enemies of Prussia in Southern Germany, in Saxony, and in Hanover will flock to his banner. There are at present French agents scattered through Germany employed in plotting and arranging for this disgraceful treachery. These agents are of every nation; some of them are even Germans of rank, who believe that their names shelter them from suspicion, and that they can pursue their dark designs unobserved. But they are mistaken; the leader of Prussian polities is not so easily hoodwinked as they think; he knows his treacherous opponents, and will know how to bring them to the punishment they deserve."
"And you are going to tell me that Werner is one of these treacherous agents," Celia interrupted Kurt, "I suspected it; this is why he has taken these frequent journeys. Werner is sufficiently unprincipled to lend himself from vanity and ambition to such treachery, but Arno, I assure you, Kurt, is incapable of it. He is stern and hard, but he never would dream of aiding in treason against his country. You must not suspect him for an instant."
"I do not suspect him, but others do, and therefore I fear both for him and for your father. The gossiping Assessor hinted to my uncle and myself that Castle Hohenwald is the centre of various treasonable intrigues, that Werner is in constant communication with the most dangerous French agents, with a certain Count Repuin, for example; nay, that he is himself such an agent, working in the French interest among the Saxon nobility, and that he is probably assisted by your father and Arno, whose hatred of Prussia is well known. The Assessor implied further that Castle Hohenwald is under strict surveillance, and that it is only a question of time when these treasonable intrigues are to be crushed out by the arrest of all the Hohenwalds. Your father and Arno must be put upon their guard against Werner, but how it is to be done I do not know."
"I will warn them!" Celia said, decidedly.
"Will they believe you? Will not your father's first question be whence came your information?"
"Of course it will, and I know he will be terribly angry when he knows all; still, I must not mind that if he and Arno are in danger of arrest. He will get over it in time. The worst is, that until he does he will forbid my riding out, or will always send Arno with me, so that we shall not see each other. But I must bear that too. It has perhaps been wrong for us to have these meetings here every day. I have never been able to look papa full in the face when the Posenecks were mentioned, or any allusion made to my afternoon rides. I never before had a secret from my dear old father, and he has a right to be angry that I have concealed from him what he ought to have known long ago. But if I should hesitate now from fear of his anger to tell him that danger threatens him, and that you have informed me of it, how could I ever forgive myself if anything should really happen to him? Tell me, dear Kurt, am I not right?"
"Yes, you are right, darling courageous child that you are. I do not know how I can bear to lack the sight and sound of you every day; I shall be wretched without this hour of delight; but you are right. We must not think of ourselves, but of how to avert the danger that threatens your father and Arno."
"You are the dearest and the best fellow in the world!"
As she spoke, Celia allowed Kurt to lift her from her horse and conduct her to a rustic bench, which he had himself constructed, just upon the borders of the Grünhagen forest, where they usually parted from each other. Many a time lately they had sat here side by side, but to-day every moment seemed more precious than ever, the future was so uncertain.
They sat silent for a long while, his arm about her waist and her lovely head reclined upon his shoulder, while her eyes were downcast; she was reflecting upon the coming parting.
"Will your father believe you when he knows that your warning comes from me?" Kurt asked, suddenly. "Will he not suspect me of giving it with a view of arousing his gratitude, and thus obtaining an entrance into Castle Hohenwald? If I did not fear that this would be so, I would go to him myself, his commands to the contrary notwithstanding; but, as I told you before, I dread his transferring his doubt of him who warns, to the warning itself to the extent of rejecting it incredulously. The same thing will happen if you tell him that it is I who warn him; he will even be more suspicious and mistrustful in his anger at our intimacy, which has become such without his knowledge and against his will."
Celia's eyes sparkled. Hard as she knew it would be to put a stop to these meetings by a frank confession, she was still resolved to make the sacrifice, but Kurt's words showed her that it would be useless; she was quite ready in a moment to convince herself that for the present it was best that her father should be ignorant of her meetings with Kurt, lest he should regard the warning with suspicion.
She raised her head, and looking at Kurt with a happy smile, said, "Anna will help us; we will tell her all. If she puts my father upon his guard and tells him that she cannot mention the source whence comes her information, but that she knows it to be correct, he will pay heed to her; he has the greatest confidence in her, and it never will occur to him that she could deceive him."
Kurt had no objection to urge to this. He consented that Celia should confide everything to her friend, both as regarded their daily meetings, and as to what Kurt had heard from the Assessor von Hahn.
Thus conversing, the time flew by so quickly that the lovers did not suspect the lateness of the hour. The outer world was forgotten, when suddenly they were recalled to it by an unfamiliar voice, that gayly interrupted their confidential talk with, "Found at last! I beg ten thousand pardons for disturbing you; I never suspected that I should find Herr von Poseneck in such charming society. Now I understand his sudden disappearance; but pray don't let me disturb you; I am thoroughly discreet; I will not boast of it, for discretion is a gift of nature; I possess it, and would not for worlds interrupt a delightful tête-à-tête."
Kurt and Celia, as soon as the voice fell upon their ears, started up from the bench, Celia looking down blushing, greatly confused, while Kurt, with anger flashing in his eyes, confronted the Assessor, who, in the best of humours, did not seem to perceive how unwelcome was his presence. This first appeared to occur to him when Kurt approached him, saying sternly, "Sir, what do you mean? how dare you thus follow me without my permission?"
The Assessor retreated a step, taught by the angry gleam in Kurt's eyes that his jesting remarks had been quite out of place. In much confusion he stammered, "I beg pardon; indeed nothing was farther from my intention than to intrude; I am inconsolable at having disturbed you."
The poor little man, as he shrank from Kurt's indignant glance and poured out his terrified excuses, cut so odd a figure that Celia could not help smiling, although she was anything but pleased with the present aspect of affairs. She could see that Kurt's indignation was still further aroused by the intruder's apology, and she whispered to him as gently as possible "Be calm, dearest Kurt, I pray you, for my sake."
Her words produced an instant effect. Kurt's brow grew smooth, the angry look vanished from his eyes, which sparkled strangely as he looked at Celia, and then turned with an air of sudden determination to the Assessor, saying, in a much gentler tone, "It is not to me, Herr von Hahn, that you should excuse yourself, but to my betrothed, Fräulein Celia von Hohenwald." As he spoke he cast at Celia a quick glance of inquiry, afraid lest his words might offend her; but no, she did not even look surprised; an arch smile quivered about her lips for a moment, and she nodded to him assentingly.
The Assessor's amazement, however, was unbounded; his large and rather prominent blue eyes grew larger and more prominent as he looked from Kurt to Celia. "Ah--really--indeed"--he stammered, bowing low--"I had no idea--I humbly beg the lady's pardon--permit me to offer my cordial congratulations--indeed--I am so surprised that I hardly know what to say."
Celia laughed; she could not help it: the flaxen little Assessor was too comical; and Kurt smiled; he was no longer angry, but inexpressibly happy. Celia's hand was in his and returned his pressure. How could he be angry with the Assessor, who had been the cause of his sudden resolve? "Never mind, Herr Assessor," he said, kindly. "We will credit you with the most heartfelt good wishes. But"--and he suddenly changed his tone to one of grave admonition--"since chance has willed that you should be the recipient of our confidence, I must pray you not to misuse it. You know that there exists an hereditary feud between the Hohenwalds and the Posenecks, which some of the members of the families have not yet agreed to forget, therefore we, my betrothed and myself, do most earnestly enjoin upon you to be silent as to what you have learned. Any allusion to it to others would be an indiscretion for which I should be obliged to call you to account. I am sure we may rely upon you."
"Absolutely. I swear it!" the Assessor eagerly replied. "Not a word shall escape my lips. I am silent as the grave!"
"I am quite sure that your promise will be kept. And now we will no longer detain you from the enjoyment of your walk. This broad road leads to Castle Hohenwald; by pursuing it until you reach three huge oaks in a group you will find a by-path on the right, which will give you a pleasant stroll through the forest and lead you out into the open, whence you will perceive Grünhagen in the distance."
The Assessor bowed. Clearly he was dismissed. He would have liked to exchange a few words with his relative Celia, whose voice even he had not heard, but there was something in Kurt's manner that told him it was hardly advisable to linger here longer. In a few choice phrases he expressed to Celia his delight at this chance meeting with so charming a cousin, and his sorrow that circumstances over which he had no control would prevent him from calling upon her at the castle. Then imagining that Herr von Poseneck was growing impatient, he took his leave, turned in the direction that had been pointed out to him, and was soon out of sight.
"Are you angry with me, dearest Celia?" Kurt asked so soon as this was the case.
"Why should I be angry with you?"
"I could not help it; I had to decide on the instant what to do, and it was only by presenting you as my betrothed to the Assessor that I could prevent him from speaking of having seen us."
"And why should I be angry with you? It was perfectly natural; you only said what we have both long known. I am glad you said it; I only wish I could tell my dear kind father how very, very happy I am. But," she added, with a little sigh, "it would not do,--it would not do at all; he would be terribly angry, for he does not know you, Kurt, does not know how dear and good you are, and if I should tell him we were betrothed he never would give his consent. Anna must help us. I will tell her everything to-day; she has more influence than any one else over him, and she will contrive to have you come to Hohenwald,--she is so good and so wise!"
Kurt shook his head doubtfully, but he could not shake Celia's confidence in Anna's power over the old Baron. Meanwhile it had grown late; they had been together much longer than usual. Pluto was evidently impatient; still, Celia had more to say than ever before. Kurt put her on her horse again, and, when she begged him to turn back with her for a little way, walked slowly beside her along the broad forest road.