CHAPTER VII.
[CECILA VISITS RADEFELD.]
The engagement of the young heir of Odensburg to Baroness Wildenrod had now indeed been announced and had excited great surprise in neighborhood circles, that had always supposed that in this matter, too, Dernburg would act as his son's guardian, and have the first word to say as to this union, and now Eric had made his own choice, far away at the South, without asking either his advice or permission. The beauty of the bride-elect, her good old name and her evidently brilliant fortune and connections, lent to this choice, it is true, the prestige of a thoroughly suitable one. And the father's consent was taken as a thing for granted.
At present, Cecilia had no ground for complaint as to the dreaded solitude of Odensburg, for her betrothal made the usually quiet Manor the scene of a constant round of social festivities. The engaged couple had made the usual visits, and now received return-calls from all the neighbors, by far the larger number of whom were the families of the large landed proprietors of that district. There were numerous invitations, larger and smaller entertainments, of which Cecilia was ever the center of attraction. Here, too, homage was paid to her wherever she appeared, and happily Eric had not the foible of jealousy. So swam Cecilia with full sails, upon the stream of satisfaction; new acquaintances and surroundings, new triumphs that hardly allowed her, for the moment at least, to miss the life to which she was accustomed.
The appearance of Baron von Wildenrod made the most favorable impression on every one. His distinguished appearance and his gifts as a brilliant conversationalist in general, won the favor of every one that he wanted to win, and here he was treated with double honor, as the future relative of the Dernburg family. Already, during the few weeks of his sojourn here, he had attained to a prominent position in these circles, and well knew how to maintain it.
At Radefeld the works had been forwarded with all the forces available. The men, for the most part, had been accommodated in the adjacent village, and the chief engineer had also taken up his quarters there, in order to avoid the loss of time in a daily ride to and from Odensburg. He usually went there only once or twice a week to give in his report to his chief.
Radefeld, indeed, was only a little village in the woods, and a stay there was not comfortable in the least. The two confined rooms in which Egbert lodged at a peasant's house, were meanly furnished, but the young engineer was not a Sybarite. He had taken nothing with him from his ordinary residence but his books, his plans, and drawings, and as for the rest, contented himself with things as he found them.
Runeck was usually to be found early at his place of business. But to-day he had had a visitor from the city. His guest, a man of about fifty years, with sharply-cut features and dark eyes, sat in the old arm-chair, that here had to take the place of a sofa. The two seemed to have had an earnest and interesting conversation.
"As for the rest," said the stranger, "I should like to ask why you so seldom come to town now? You have not been there for weeks, and if one wants to have a talk with you, he has to institute a veritable search after you."
"I have a great deal to do," answered Egbert, who stood at the window, with a rather clouded brow. "You see for yourself how immersed I am in work."
"Work?" mocked the other. "I should think that our work was more important than digging and rooting here in the woods. You contrived the plan, so I learn. Will you, perhaps, earn another million for your chief to add to the other millions that he already has?"
"That is not the question, but whether I shall perform a duty that I have undertaken to perform," was the brief reply. "The execution of this plan was properly the upper-engineer's work, and I have to justify the confidence that called me to do it, in his stead."
"To chain you fast here at Radefeld, so that you will not be dangerous at Odensburg! The old man is not stupid, nobody can accuse him of that, he always knows very well what he is about, and you may depend he knows a thing or two about your proclivities already."
"Be done with your insinuations, Landsfeld," interposed Egbert impatiently, "of course Dernburg knows, from my own lips. He called me up for a talk, and I gave him my views without any reserve. I naturally expected my dismissal after that--but instead the superintendence of the Radefeld water-works was entrusted to me."
Landsfeld started and directed a searching glance at the young engineer.
"That is remarkable, to be sure, it does not look like the old man! He must either be perfectly infatuated with you, or he has some object to subserve. He is capable of anything. As for the rest, your candor was very out of place in this case, for now, of course, your movements at Odensburg will no longer be free. You have managed very awkwardly, young man!"
"Was I to deny the truth?" asked Egbert with knitted brow.
"Why not, if it could serve a good purpose?"
"Then look out for some one else who is more practiced in lying! I regard it as cowardice, to deny one's convictions and one's party, and acted accordingly."
"That is to say, you have again followed your own head, and acted in utter defiance of orders. Odensburg is your field of labor, you are to get the fellows there to affiliate with you, instead of which, here you are quietly constructing water-works at Radefeld, at the same time that you are being coddled in the so-called Manor-house, and yet you know perfectly why we sent you here!"
"And you know that I resisted from the very beginning, that finally only a direct order from headquarters forced me into line."
"Alas! I suppose you confided that to your chief, too?" The question came in the sharpest of tones.
"No," answered Runeck coldly; "he attributed my return to an entirely false motive, and I left him in his error. Never again would I have gone voluntarily to Odensburg, and I cannot stay here either, my position is an untenable one, as I foresaw."
"And nevertheless you will be obliged to remain," said Landsfeld dryly. "This Odensburg is like an impregnable fortress, that defies all attacks. The old man has made his people tame, with his schools and infirmaries and funds for the poor, they dread to lose the good berths they have, and, above all, they have an incurable fear of their tyrant--the cowards! However often we applied the lever, nothing was to be done, he has made them thoroughly suspicious of our agitators. You are a child of a workman, have grown up in their midst, and even now have intimate relations with their chief. They will listen to you, and follow you too, if it comes to that."
"And to what end?" asked Runeck moodily. "I have often enough explained to you that a strike at Odensburg would be perfectly futile. Dernburg is not a man to be coerced: I know him--he would rather close his works. He is a man after this sort, that he would rather take any loss upon himself than to yield, and he is rich enough to resist to the uttermost."
"Just for that very reason he must be brought down from his throne of infallibility! He shall see, that there are men who dare to make head against him, puffed up as he is, sitting there on his millions in luxury and idleness, while----"
"That is not true!" burst forth Egbert passionately, "and you know that what you say is a lie! Dernburg works more than you and I. Often enough have I been compelled to admire his immense strength and wonderful powers of endurance, that actually put to the blush the youngest among us. And he seeks recreation only in his family-circle. Once for all, I'll not stand having that man slandered in my presence."
"Oho, you speak in that tone, do you?" cried Landsfeld, now irritated in his turn. "You take sides with him against us? It only shows how tame living the life of a lord makes one, if he once gets a taste of it."
"Take heed, else you might learn that I am anything but tame," said Egbert, more quietly, but in a threatening tone. "I repeat it, I'll submit to nothing of the sort, for it has nothing to do with our cause. Either you will omit these personal attacks upon Dernburg or----"
"Or?"
"I'll never more cross your threshold and shall know how to protect mine from things that I will not hear."
Landsfeld shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that he did not care.
"That means, in other words, that you will put me out of doors? Right friendly and brotherly, to be sure, but we will not dispute about that. It is not our way anyhow to pass many compliments. You are coming to our next meeting, are you not?"
"Yes." This word sounded harsh and sullen.
"Well, I am going to depend upon that. An important matter is to be brought up. We expect a few comrades from Berlin, and it is likely you will be taken pretty sharply to task, on account of your inactivity up to this time."
"Until next week then!"
He nodded shortly and went out in front of the house, however, he stood still and sent back a look of hatred, while he murmured in an undertone:
"If we did not need you, absolutely need you! But it is impossible to get along without you at Odensburg. Just wait though, my young man, and we'll see if we cannot curb that haughty spirit of yours!"
Egbert, being left alone, stood in the middle of the room, with fist doubled up and deeply-furrowed brow. It was manifest that a fierce battle was being waged in his soul, but suddenly he straightened himself up and stamped with his foot, as though he would quell by main force the storms that were raging within.
"No, and again no! I have made my choice and will abide by it!"
The Radefeld estate, ordinarily a quiet, lonely valley in the midst of a forest, now again resounded with the noise of laborers who were hard at work. Everywhere there was shoveling, ditching, and blasting; trees and shrubs fell beneath the stroke of the ax; the indefatigable host having already progressed as far as the foot of the Buchberg, the tunneling of which was the enterprise afoot.
Runeck, who had come later than usual, stood upon an eminence and thence directed a tremendous blast. In obedience to his order, all the workmen had retired from the neighborhood of the mine, which now exploded with dull, muffled sounds. The cliff against which the work of destruction was aimed, was split in two, one part still standing erect, while the other fell with a crash; the earth round about trembled when the mighty boulders rolled heavily down.
The group of laborers at the foot of the eminence dispersed: Runeck, too, left his place, to examine closely what had been effected, when an old inspector stepped forward and announced:
"Herr Runeck--the master's family from Odensburg."
Egbert looked up, in expectation of seeing the wagon of Dernburg, who frequently came out to inspect the condition of the works, but suddenly gave such a violent start that the old man looked up in surprise.
Over at the entrance to the ravine Eric Dernburg and Cecilia Wildenrod had halted, on horseback, while the groom had dismounted, and had firmly by the bridle their animals, who seemed to have been made unruly by the noise of the blasting. The young engineer, meanwhile, had quickly recovered from his surprise, and went across to pay his respects to his waiting visitors. Eric cordially stretched out his hand.
"We have kept our word, Egbert, and come upon you without any warning. Will you allow us an insight into your province?"
"I shall be delighted to be of the least service," replied Runeck, while he bowed to the young lady, who now gracefully and lightly swung herself out of the saddle, and in doing so hardly touched the proffered hand of her betrothed.
"We stopped at Radefeld and through the open windows cast a glance in at your lodgings, Herr Runeck," said she. "Dear me, what surroundings! Do you really intend to spend the whole summer there?"
"Why not?" asked Egbert composedly. "We engineers are sometimes here, sometimes there, and have to accept work wherever it is offered."
"But you have your comfortable home at Odensburg, and a carriage is always at your disposal. Why do you not stay there?"
"Because then I would daily lose three hours in going and coming. I have my books and works at Radefeld, and as for the rest I am entirely independent of my surroundings."
"Yes, you are a Spartan by constitution, physically as well as intellectually," said Eric with a sigh. "I wish that I could do like you, but, alas! there is no chance of that. I have gotten too much spoiled at the South and must now do penance."
He drew himself up and shivered; evidently he suffered more from his native climate than he himself was willing to confess. He looked pale and worn, the ride through the woods seeming to have been an exertion to him rather than a pleasure.
So much the more blooming appeared the young lady by his side. For her the brisk, rather long, ride had been only an exhilaration, and she had reined her horse in impatiently enough out of respect to Eric. She had been accustomed to race at full-speed, having been tutored into this by her brother, and she did not understand how any one could be cautious and circumspect in riding like Eric. As for the rest, she was beaming with cheerfulness and high spirits, even Egbert was treated with perfect amiability, not a look, not a word, reminded of that disagreement when they first met.
The laborers reverentially greeted the young master and his promised bride, whom all eyes followed with admiration. Even here Cecilia's beauty celebrated a triumph, only Egbert Runeck seemed perfectly insensible to its charms.
He became their guide through grounds in the act of being laid out, taking pains to show his guests whatever was worth seeing, but he observed towards the Baroness Wildenrod the same cold reserve as before, and turned mostly to Eric; in him, to be sure, he did not have a particularly attentive listener. The young heir showed only a faint, half-forced sympathy in all these things, with which he should properly have felt himself identified.
"It is incredible, the quantity of work that you have all done in these few weeks," said he, finally, with genuine admiration. "That would be something for my brother-in-law, who now buries himself all day in the Odensburg works and has regularly constituted himself my father's assistant. I would never have believed that Oscar had so keen a relish for such things."
Runeck did not answer, but his lip curled contemptuously at these last words. Eric, who did not observe this, continued in the most unembarrassed way:
"One thing more, Egbert, we recently made an excursion into the mountains, and some of our party noticed that the great cross on the Whitestone had sunk. Father wishes the matter to be carefully looked into, so that no accident may happen. Is there any one among your people here, who will undertake the dangerous task?"
"Certainly," assented Runeck. "It would be very perilous, if that heavy cross should one day fall from that high cliff, since the road runs along just below. I shall go up and see about it myself in the course of the next few days."
"Upon the Whitestone?" asked Cecilia, whose attention had been awakened. "How is that? They say it is inaccessible."
"Assuredly it is for ordinary people," mocked Eric. "One's name must be Egbert Runeck to undertake such a walk on our most dangerous cliff. I believe he has been up there already three or four times."
"I am practiced in mountain-climbing," said Egbert composedly. "When a boy I used to be familiar with every cliff and mountain of my native district, and that is knowledge which is not unlearned. As for the rest, the Whitestone is not inaccessible, it only demands a steady head, clear eye and the necessary fearlessness, then the way is to be forced."
"Dear me, do not say that!" cried Eric laughing, but yet with a certain unrest. He really feared lest Cecilia might be seized with one of those madcap fancies by which she had recently so frightened him. "She was wild to go to the top of the Whitestone."
Runeck seemed to think this project something unheard of, he looked doubtingly and in surprise upon the young lady, who replied in a haughty tone:
"Why, yes! I should like just for once to stand on such a dizzy height, immediately above that abrupt precipice. It must be a thrillingly sweet sensation! Eric was horrified at the bare idea."
"Cecilia, you torture me with such jests!"
"How do you know that it is a jest? And suppose I act upon it in earnest--would you go with me?"
"I?" The young man looked as if he thought they expected him to jump down from the cliff in question. About the lips of his betrothed played a half-compassionate, half-contemptuous smile; almost imperceptibly she elevated her shoulders.
"Compose yourself, pray! I shall not demand such a proof of love--I would go alone."
"Let me implore you, Cecile, not to think of such a thing!" exclaimed Eric, now alarmed in good earnest, but Egbert interrupted him with quiet decision.
"You need not disturb yourself on that score. That is no path for the dainty feet of a lady to tread. Baroness Wildenrod will hardly make the attempt, and, if she should do so, she would give it up again in five minutes."
"Cecilia tossed her head, and her eyes flashed as she asked in a peculiar tone:
"Are you so certain of that, Herr Runeck?"
"Yes, noble lady, for I know the Whitestone."
"But you do not know me!"
"May be so."
Cecilia started, the answer seemed to surprise her, but her glance strayed to her betrothed, and she laughed scornfully.
"Do not look so miserable, Eric! All this is only bantering! I am not thinking of the Whitestone and its break-neck cliffs.--How do you manage, really, Herr Runeck, when you blow up these colossal masses of rock?"
Eric breathed more freely after the conversation had taken this new turn. He was already accustomed to being put on the rack by various whims and wild ideas suggested by his promised bride, that had no substantial basis, however, and were never to be taken seriously. Being restored to his composure now, he turned to the old inspector, who stood close by, expecting, evidently, to be noticed.
Old Mertens had served the father of the present chief, and now they had given him to perform the light and lucrative duties of an upper-inspector of the Radefeld works. Eric, who had known him from childhood, spoke kindly to him, making particular inquiries after his family, and afterwards greeted with the same kindliness the other workmen within speaking distance. Any stranger seeing him stand thus among the people, with stooping gait, delicate, worn features and almost timid manner, would never in the world have suspected him of being the future lord of Odensburg. There was nothing of the master at all about him.
Perhaps Baroness Wildenrod had imbibed this same impression, for her delicately-arched eyebrows contracted as though from displeasure, and then her glance turned slowly to the young engineer, who stood in front of her. Hitherto she had only seen him in company-suit, to-day he wore a gray woolen jacket and high-top boots, such as wind and weather asked for, but he gained wonderfully by this simple garb. It matched so admirably with the bold manliness of his appearance; here on his own territory his individuality was most strikingly manifest. The first glance showed that here it was his to command, and that he was fully equal to the trust reposed in him; the diminutive form of the friend of his youth shrank into nothingness at his side.
He gave the explanation desired, fully and in detail, illustrating what he said by showing the mine already laid to that part of the cliff which still stood erect, yet in doing this, he turned his whole attention to the rocks and had hardly a look to bestow upon his fair listener, who now said smilingly:
"We saw the blasting from over yonder, and the explosion was extremely effective. You were enthroned yonder on the height like the mountain-sprite in his own person--all the others like ministering gnomes at your feet--a wave of your hand, and with the sound of muffled thunder the cliffs were split and sank in ruins--a genuine glimpse of fairyland!"
"Why, do you know anything of the tales and legends of our mountains?" asked Egbert coolly. "I really would not have supposed it."
"Only Maia is to be thanked for it. She has introduced me into the legends of her native hills, and I verily believe the little thing believes them to be solidly true. Maia sometimes is still a real child."
These last words sounded very scornful. The slender young lady who stood there, leaning against the wall of rock, in a stylish riding-habit of silver-gray, with hat and plumes to match, could not, by any means, be accused of being a child. Even here she was the lady of fashion and distinction, who was making it her pastime just to see for once how the sons of labor lived and delved. And yet she was ensnaringly beautiful, despite her pride and self-consciousness; radiant and certain of conquest she stood before the man who alone seemed to have neither eye nor ear for charms that had never elsewhere played her false. Perhaps it was this very insensibility which attracted the spoiled girl, who now continued in taunting tone:
"When I beheld that telling picture of which you formed the center, I could not help thinking of the old saying about the caper-spurge. That is the mysterious magic wand of the mountains, to which every bolt yields and every cavern opens. And then the buried treasures of the earth shine and beckon to the chosen one, who is to bring them to the light.
'He takes from night and darkness
Their treasures, hidden deep,
And he those jewels sparkling
And all that gold may keep.'
What think you--has not Maia had an apt scholar?"
She looked at him smilingly as she repeated the verse of that old song which told of the all-powerful enchanting rod, but the young engineer's manner did not soften, in spite of all her blandness. His face, embrowned by exposure to sun and wind, was a shade paler, perhaps, than usual, but his voice sounded cool and self-controlled, as he answered:
"Our time no longer has need of an enchanter's wand. It has found another sort of one for splitting rocks and opening the earth--You see it, do you not?"
"Yes, indeed. I see bald destruction, rubbish and splintered quartz--but the treasures stay buried below."
"It is empty and dead below--there are no longer any buried treasures."
The answer had a harsh and joyless sound, and the tone in which it was spoken did not soften its asperity.
"Perhaps it is only because the magical word has been lost, without which the wand remains powerless," answered Cecilia lightly, without observing, apparently, his forbidding manner. "Do you not think so, Herr Runeck?"
"I think, Baroness Wildenrod, that the world of fairies and magicians has long been left behind us. We no longer comprehend it, and no longer want to comprehend it."
There was something almost menacing in these apparently insignificant words. Cecilia bit her lips, and through the sunny brightness of her smile there gleamed a flash of hostility from her eyes, but then she laughed gayly.
"How grim that sounds! The poor gnomes and dwarfs have a determined enemy, I perceive. Only hear, Eric, how your friend denounces the whole legendary world."
"Yes, it is not worth while to approach Egbert with such things," said Eric, who just now came up. "He has no opinion of poetry, either, that one cannot make by line and plummets, nor needs to draw plans for--therefore he regards it as a highly superfluous thing. I have not yet forgiven him for the way in which he took the news of my engagement--actually, with formal commiseration! And when I indignantly hurled at him the reproach that he knew nothing about love, nor cared to know it either--would you believe that I got for answer a frigid 'No.'"
Cecilia fixed her large, dark eyes upon the young engineer, and again that demoniacal spark flashed in them as she said smilingly:
"And were you really in earnest, Herr Runeck?"
Some seconds elapsed ere he answered. He seemed yet paler than awhile ago, but his eye met that look fully and darkly, while he coldly replied:
"Yes, Baroness Wildenrod."
"There, you hear it for yourself," cried Eric, half-laughing, half vexed. "He is as hard as these rocks."
The young lady tapped lightly with her riding-whip against the pile of rocks that lay heaped up in front of her.
"Maybe. But rocks, too, can be brought to yield, we see. Take heed, Herr Runeck, you have mocked and defied those mysterious powers----they will have their revenge!"
The words should have sounded playful, and yet there was a perceptible breath of defiance in them. Egbert answered not a word, while Eric looked in amazement from one to the other.
"Of what were you talking?" asked he.
"We were speaking of the caper-spurge, which cleaves rocks asunder, and unlocks the hidden treasures of earth.--But I think we had better go now, if you approve."
Eric assented, and then turned to Runeck.
"There is to be more blasting, I perceive; wait, though, before you apply the match, until we get beyond the region of the ravine. Our horses were made very unmanageable by it awhile ago, the groom could hardly hold them."
Again that wicked and contemptuous smile played about Cecilia's lips, for she had been quick to note awhile ago, that Eric had nervously started at the dull sounds of the explosion and had summoned the groom to his side. Her horse, too, had become very restive, but she had held it firmly in with the bit. Meanwhile she suppressed any remark and only said, while Egbert guided her and Eric to the place where the horses stood:
"Accept our thanks for your friendly guidance and explanation. You will be glad to be rid of such disturbing guests."
Runeck bowed low and formally.
"Oh, do not speak of it, I pray. Eric is here as proprietor on his own estate, there can be no talk of disturbance."
"And yet it would seem so. You were fairly shocked, when you caught sight of us in the entrance to the ravine."
"I? Have you such sharp eyes, noble lady?"
"Oh, yes, Eric often teases me about my 'falcon-glance.'"
"In this case, however, your sight deceived you. I was only anxious, when I caught sight of you so near--horses are so easily frightened by blasting."
The riding-whip struck impatiently against the folds of her silver-gray habit. Did that rock resist everything?
Meanwhile they had reached the spot where their horses were tied. Cecilia and Eric mounted. The former nodded slightly an adieu, then applied her switch sharply to her beautiful roan, The fiery animal reared, and immediately set off at a gallop, so that the other could hardly follow him.
They were still visible for about five minutes, on the forest-road that led to Radefeld. Like some apparition flew the slender girlish figure on the back of her racing steed, with her habit fluttering and the plumes in her hat streaming behind. Once more she was seen at the bend, then the forest closed behind her.
Egbert was still standing motionless in his place, looking with fixed and burning eyes upon that road through the woods. His lips were firmly compressed, and on his features rested a singular expression, as though of stifled pain or wrath: finally, he straightened himself up and turned to go.
Then he perceived something at his feet, soft and white, as though some blossom had blown there.
The foot of the young man seemed suddenly to be rooted to the ground, then he slowly stooped and picked it up.
It was a fine lace handkerchief, delicately perfumed, that appealed to Egbert's senses in a bewitchingly flattering manner. Involuntarily his fingers clutched the airy fabric tighter and tighter.
"Herr Runeck!" said a voice behind him.
Runeck started and turned around. It was old Mertens.
"The men would like to know if they are to go on with the blasting, it is all ready."
"Certainly, I am coming directly.--Mertens, you are going to Odensburg this evening, I suppose?"
"Yes, Herr Engineer, I want to spend Sunday with my children."
"Well, then, take----"
Runeck stopped, and the old man looked at him in amazement. It was exactly as if the engineer was with difficulty, struggling for breath. And yet it lasted only a second, when he continued with a peculiarly gruff voice,
"Take this handkerchief with you, and hand it in at the Manor-house. Baroness Wildenrod has lost it."
Mertens took the handkerchief held out to him, and stuck it in his pocket, while Egbert went back to the workmen, who were only waiting for his appearance. He gave the signal, and the magic wand of the new times did its duty. The startling explosion took place, and the cliff still uninjured, that had stood there so proud and lofty, was split in twain. It trembled, tottered, and then fell in ruins at Runeck's feet dragging trees and shrubs to destruction with it.