CHAPTER XII.
A TRYING INTERVIEW.
Eric rode to Wolfsgarten. He met on the way the Major and Fräulein Milch, who were walking close together under one large umbrella.
Eric told them that Clodwig was dangerously sick, and the Major said,—
"Don't let him have any other nurse. Fräulein Milch will come and take care of him. Herr Captain, one ought to be sick for once, so as to have Fräulein Milch nurse him."
Fräulein Milch declared herself ready to come to Clodwig, if she were called upon.
Eric rode on, and now sought to put in a right point of view all that he had experienced, so that he might gain the strength necessary to bear up under coming events. How much had happened to him and to others since he rode out from Wolfsgarten to Villa Eden? Every thing passed through his soul, and he breathed deep in silent satisfaction as he thought what would have been his condition now, if he had not exerted all his strength to bring himself into right relations with Bella. How different would it be, were he riding now with a soul torn by conflicting feelings, unable to help wishing for Clodwig's death in order that he might get possession of Bella, and obliged to stand like the most abject hypocrite by the bedside of the dying one. No poet yet has ventured to depict the mental state of two people who expect to base their happiness on the news of another's death; and these, no criminals but cultivated, and intelligent.
Eric looked upon himself as one rescued from destruction. Never was a man possessed by more pious emotions than Eric was now, as, stopping, he said to himself,—
"I thank thee, thou Eternal and Ineffable Spirit; for it is not I who have, through my education and inherited tendencies, become what I am. I am now pure; I will not be unworthy of it, but keep myself pure and innocent."
Wanting to get rid, finally, of his thoughts and speculations, he spoke to the messenger, an old confidential servant of the Wolfsgarten family. The messenger related how Clodwig had come home from Villa Eden in company with the Banker, and how they had thought he would have died at that time.
The servant turned round, and, pointing with his whip to Villa Eden, said, "There's no queerer state of things anywhere than in this world." In the midst of his deep distress, Eric could not help laughing aloud at this odd remark.
"Is any one of the relatives at Wolfsgarten?"
"No: the Jew is the only one there. But he is a friend of our master."
Eric regretted that he had entered into conversation with the servant, for he could not restrain him from talking about what he thought would be done, if the gracious master should die.
At the last hill, Eric dismounted, and walked over the wooded height. It was all still. The hornbeam tree, which first leaves out, was now the first to let fall its yellow leaves: there was a rustling and a low crackling in the wood, and only the hawk screeched above on the height.
Eric came in front of the manor-house, and entered the courtyard. He went to Bella, who looked pale and as if suffering severely. He entered just at the moment that Bella was asking her brother of the news at Villa Eden.
Eric was startled to meet Pranken here. Both had to use the strongest self-control in order to stand up under the interview.
Bella thanked Eric for being the first one to come to her.
"He is now asleep," said she: "he talks constantly of you. Be composed: you will hardly know him; give in to him in every thing, he is very excitable."
Bella's voice was hoarse; and, covering her eyes with a white handkerchief, she asked,—
"Were you present when your father died?"
Eric said that he was.
Bella went to inform Clodwig of Eric's arrival. Pranken and Eric were by themselves. For a long time neither spoke: at last, Pranken began,—
"I never thought that I should speak again to Herr Dournay; but we are now at a sick-bed, and for the sake of the invalid"—
"I thank you."
"I beg you to give me no thanks, and to speak to me just as little as possible,—just enough to excite no remark and nothing more."
He turned round and was about to go.
"Just one word," Eric requested. "We shall soon see an eye closed in death that has always beamed with gentle and noble feeling; let all bitterness toward me disappear, or, for a time, be suspended. Let us not, at such an hour as this, stand in hostility to each other."
"You can talk well: I know that."
"And I want to say what it is well for you to listen to. It troubles me that I appear to you ungrateful; but now, in this mysterious presence which awaits us all, I repeat"—
Bella returned and said,—
"He is still asleep. O Herr Dournay! Clodwig loves you more than he loves any other person in the world."
She gave Eric her hand, and it was cold as ice. The three were speechless for some time, until Eric asked,—
"Is there no hope?"
"No. The Doctor says that he has probably only a few hours to live. Do you hear any thing? The Doctor has promised to come,—to return immediately. Oh, if I could only induce Clodwig to call in another physician! Do urge him to do it: I have no confidence in Doctor Richard."
Eric made no reply.
"Ah, my God!" lamented Bella, "how forsaken we are in our need. You will remain with us, will you not? You will not abandon us?"
Eric promised to remain.
It had a strange sound, a reminiscence out of the past, with its forms of courtesy, as Bella now asked pardon for not having inquired after Eric's mother, Frau Ceres, and Manna; and, with a peculiar jerking out of the words, she asked,—
"How is Herr Sonnenkamp?"
A servant came, and announced that the Herr Count had waked up, and had asked immediately, if Herr Captain Dournay had not yet come.
"Go to him," said Bella, laying her hand upon Eric's shoulder. "Go to him, I beg you; but let it come as if from you, and not from me, that another physician should be called in."
Eric went; and, as soon as he had gone, "Bella said hurriedly to Pranken,—
"Otto, get rid of the Jew as politely as you can. What does he want here?"
Pranken went to the Banker.
Bella was alone, and could not control her feeling of unrest. She had already arranged in thought the announcement of the decease, and had even written the words,—
"To relatives and friends I make the painful announcement, that my beloved husband, Count von Wolfsgarten of Wolfsgarten, formerly ambassador of his royal Highness at Rome, Knight of the first rank, has died after a short illness, at the age of sixty-five. I beg their silent sympathy.
"BELLA COUNTESS VON WOLFSGARTEN (née, Von Pranken)."
A demon continually whispered to her this announcement: she saw it before her eyes with a black border, even while Clodwig was still living. Why is this? What suggests these words, and brings them so clearly before her eyes? She could not get away from them. She took up the sheet of paper, tore it up, and threw the pieces out of the window into the rain.