"Clear the Track!" A Story of To-day

by E. Werner

CHAPTER XII.

[THE GOAL IN SIGHT.]

Weeks had elapsed, spring had taken her leave and summer had come in the full blaze of her glory. At Odensburg, they had already begun preparations for the wedding festivities, which were appointed for the last days in August. After the ceremony a grand entertainment was to take place, to which the Dernburg family were to invite the whole circle of their acquaintance, and immediately afterwards the young couple were to set out on their trip to the South.

The officers and operatives belonging to the Dernburg works purposed to have their share in the festivities also. They wished to do honor to their chief upon occasion of the marriage of his son and heir. The director and Doctor Hagenbach were at the head of a committee, who planned a grand festal parade, and all had gone into the affair with spirit.

But in spite of these joyful preparations, there rested, as it were, a cloud over the Manor-house and the Dernburg family. The chief himself was out of sorts on account of various annoyances, public and private; the approaching elections to the Reichstag were beginning to attract sympathy even at his Odensburg, and he knew, only too well, that his men were being tampered with. Openly, this was not done, most assuredly he held the reins too firmly in his hand for this, but he was not able to steer clear of the secret, and on that very account dangerous, activity, with which the Socialistic party encroached step by step upon his works, that had hitherto been kept so clear of any such tendencies.

Moreover, Eric's health was again causing him grave anxiety; he had been obliged almost entirely to renounce the hope of introducing his son (as he had hoped and desired) to his future calling. The young man was perpetually ailing--needed to have his strength spared just as much now as before he went South. Such a thing as his engaging in systematic work was not to be thought of. Finally came Wildenrod's wooing and Maia's openly acknowledged love for him, which Dernburg had heard of with extreme surprise, yes, almost with indignation.

The Baron had asked her father for her hand, on the very same day that he had declared himself to the young girl, but had met with a much more decided opposition than he had expected. However much Dernburg might have been taken with him personally, Oscar was not the husband that he had selected for his daughter, and the thought of wedding the sixteen-year-old child to a man old enough to be her father, was just as repulsive to him as Maia's reciprocating this passion. His darling's entreaties availed in so far that the original No was rescinded, but just as little was he to be moved to give his consent for a speedy betrothal. He declared with all positiveness that his daughter was still much too young to bind herself already for a lifetime, saying that she must wait and put her feelings to the test; two years hence would be ample time to introduce the subject again.

Wait! That was a fatal, an impossible sentence for this man, with whom every minute counted, and yet, for the present, no alternative was left him, because Maia had been withdrawn from his influence. After that declaration he himself had received a gentle but unmistakable hint, that under these circumstances, daily intercourse between the pair was not to be kept up. But to leave Odensburg now, was equivalent to giving up his game as lost. The thing for him now to do was to be vigilant, and confront the danger which, since that threat of Runeck, had hung over his head like a thunder-cloud. And he must also stand by his sister, in order to be sure that she would keep her word with him--wrested from her, as it had been, almost by force. She was incredibly altered since that unhappy hour. Therefore he had not wanted to understand that hint, and had held his ground; but here Dernburg interposed immediately, with his wonted determination, and under pretext of her paying a visit to a friend of the family, he sent his daughter away, not to return until her brother's marriage took place.

Egbert Runeck had come from Radefeld, in order to give in his usual report to his chief. For weeks past, he had been accustomed, at these times, only to tarry awhile in the work-room and then return forthwith as soon as he had dispatched his business. He seemed to have become quite estranged from the family-circle. But to-day he had sought out Eric the first thing, who received him with joyful surprise, but also with reproaches.

"Why, Egbert, is that you,--do I actually lay eyes on you once more? I thought that you had quite forgotten me, and laid our house under a ban. Father is the only one who ever gets a sight of you."

"You know how closely occupied I am," answered Egbert evasively. "My works----"

"Oh yes, those works of yours always serve for a pretext! But come, let us have a good chat--I am so glad to have you all alone to myself once more."

He drew his friend down on the sofa beside him and began to ask questions and narrate his own experiences. He had the conversation almost entirely to himself however. Runeck showed himself strikingly taciturn and absent-minded, and meanwhile he answered mechanically as it were, as though he had his mind bent on very different things. Not until Eric began to speak of his approaching marriage did he grow more attentive.

"We want to set off on our trip immediately after the grand entertainment to be held on our wedding-day," said the latter with a happy smile. "I think of spending a few weeks, with my young wife in Switzerland, but then we shall both wing our flight to the South. To the South! You have no idea what a charm that word has for us. This cold Northern sky, these gloomy fir-clad mountains, all the bustle and stir here, all this lies so heavy upon me. I cannot get perfectly well here. Hagenbach, who just left me, thinks so too and proposes that we spend the whole winter in Italy. Alas! father, though, will not hear of this--it will cost us a battle to carry our point with him."

"Are you feeling worse again?" asked Egbert, whose eyes rested with a peculiarly searching expression upon the pale, sunken features of his friend.

"Oh, nothing to signify," said Eric, carelessly. "The doctor is only so incredibly anxious. He has prohibited my riding, gives me all manner of prescriptions, and now wants the wedding-festivities to be on a reduced scale, because they might cause me to over-exert myself. Anything but excitement. That is the first and last word with him. I am getting rather tired of this thing, for he treats me always like a very ill patient to whom any excitement might bring death."

Runeck's gaze was fixed yet more intently and gravely upon the young man, and there was restrained emotion in his features and his voice, when he asked:

"So Dr. Hagenbach dreads excitement for you, does he? To be sure, you did have a hemorrhage that time----"

"Dear me, Egbert! that was two years ago, and every trace of it has disappeared," interrupted Eric impatiently. "The only thing is, Odensburg does not agree with me, any more than it does with Cecile, who can never feel at home here. She is made for joy and sunshine, that is the element in which, alone, she can thrive; here, where all hinges upon labor and duty, where my father's stern eyes hold her spellbound, as it were, she cannot be herself. If you knew what a change has been wrought in my Cecile, who sparkled with life and exuberant spirits, who was so captivating even in her caprices! How pale and quiet she has grown in these last weeks, how strangely altered in her whole nature. Many a time I am afraid that something quite different lies at the bottom of it. If she repents of having plighted her troth to me, if--ah, I see specters everywhere!"

"But, Eric, I beseech you," remarked Runeck soothingly. "Is this the way you follow the prescription of the doctor? You are stirring yourself up in a manner wholly unnecessary."

"No, no!" cried the young man passionately. "I see and feel that Cecile is concealing something from me--day before yesterday she betrayed herself. I spoke of our wedding-trip,--of Italy, when she suddenly burst out with: 'Yes, let us be gone, Eric, wherever you will, only far, far away from this place! I can stand it no longer!' What cannot she stand? She would not let me question her on the subject, but it sounded like a shriek of despair."

Carried out of himself he sprang to his feet. Egbert, too, got up, managing as he did so, accidentally as it were, to step out of the bright sunshine, that poured in through the window, into the shade. "Do you love your betrothed much?" asked he slowly with marked emphasis.

"Do I love her!" Eric's pale face reddened and his eyes beamed with the tenderest enthusiasm.

"You have never loved, Egbert, else you could not ask such a question. If Cecilia had rejected me that time, when I courted her, I might have stood it. If I had to lose her now--it would kill me!"

Egbert was silent. He stood with his face half-averted, his features still working from the intensity of the emotions that were warring within. At those last words, however, he drew himself up, advanced to his friend and laid his hand upon his arm.

"You are not to lose her, Eric," said he firmly, although with quivering lips. "You will live and be happy!"

"Do you know that so surely?" asked Eric, looking up in surprise. "Why, you talk as if you held the keys to life and death."

"Then take it as a prophecy, which will be fulfilled to you.--But I must go, I only came to bid you farewell, for my course at Radefeld has come to an end sooner than I had supposed."

"So much the better, for then you can come back to Odensburg, and we shall see each other frequently enough, I hope, before I leave."

"I am just on my way now to talk with your father about it."

"You are an enviable fellow!" said Eric with a sigh. "Ever forward, ever upward to new aims, without allowing yourself a moment's repose! Hardly is one task over, when you are as busy as ever carving out new ones. What sort of plans are these, pray?"

"You will hear about them better from your father, now you are in no mood for it. Then--farewell, Eric!"

With emotion that struggled for utterance, he offered him his hand, which Eric took with no sign of embarrassment.

"You do not mean this as a farewell for any length of time. You will be at Radefeld for a while yet?"

"Of course, meanwhile I may leave there very shortly, and who knows where I may have pitched my tent, by the time you come back from Italy, in the spring?"

"But then we'll see each other once more at my wedding!" remarked Eric.

"If it is possible for me----"

"It must be possible for you, I'll not let you go until you have promised me that. You will come under all circumstances, Egbert, do you hear? And now I must let you go, for I see that the ground burns under your feet. Good-bye, then--to meet again soon!"

"Yes--farewell, Eric!"

It was a vehement, almost convulsive pressure, with which Runeck clasped his old friend's hand, then he turned off hurriedly and left the room, as though he dreaded being detained. Not until he was on the pathway out of doors did he stand still, when, drawing a long breath, he murmured to himself:

"That should be overcome! He is right, it would kill him.--No, Eric, you are not to die, not through me! That is what I will not take upon myself."

As usual, about this time, Dernburg was found in his office. He looked grave and troubled, while he listened to Dr. Hagenbach who sat opposite to him. Oscar von Wildenrod was likewise present, but he with folded arms leaned against the window-frame, without taking any part in the conversation, the course of which, however, he followed with breathless attention.

"You give yourself too much solicitude," said the physician in a soothing tone, although his air was not exactly one calculated to inspire confidence. "Here Eric is still suffering from the after-effects of our harsh spring. He should have stayed longer in the South and then selected some half-way station; the abrupt change of climates has been injurious to him. Meanwhile, he must now return to Italy, and I have just been talking with him, persuading him to spend the winter there. He would prefer Rome, on account of his young wife. But I am for Sorrento, or if it must be a larger city than that, Palermo."

Dernburg's brow darkened yet more at these last words, and with hardly concealed displeasure he asked,

"Do you regard it as absolutely necessary for Eric to spend the whole winter away? I had hoped that he would bring his wife back to spend Christmas with us."

"No, Herr Dernburg, that will not do for this time," answered Hagenbach with decision. "That would be to stake everything that we won last winter."

"And what have we won? A half cure, that is questionable after the lapse of a few months. Be candid, Doctor. You believe that my son, in general, cannot stand this climate."

"Provisionally it would certainly be necessary----"

"Nothing about provisionally; I want to know the truth, the whole truth! Do you think that it is at all likely, that Eric can live constantly at Odensburg, that he can be my co-worker, my successor some day, as I hoped when he returned last spring, apparently cured?"

His eye hung in agonized suspense upon the doctor's lips, and Wildenrod's gaze was just as intent, as he now emerged from the window-niche.

Hagenbach was slow in answering; it seemed to cost him a great effort. At last he said earnestly:

"No, Herr Dernburg--since you desire to know the truth--as things are now, a permanent sojourn in the South is a condition of life with your son. He can come to Odensburg, for a few months in summer, but he can never stand another winter in our mountains, no more than he can the fatigues of an active calling. This is my firm conviction, and any of my colleagues will indorse my opinion."

Wildenrod made an involuntary movement when he heard this sentence pronounced so positively. Dernburg was silent; he only supported his head upon his hand, but it was easy to see what a heavy blow was inflicted upon him, by the doctor's outspoken opinion, although he must have had a foreboding of what it would be.

"That means, then, that I must bid farewell to all the plans that I have been cherishing so long," said he softly. "I hoped against hope--nevertheless, Eric is my only son. I want his life preserved, even though my dearest hopes be buried thereby. Let him, then, establish a home somewhere in the South, and limit his activity to building and adorning it--I can afford it."

A heavy, half-suppressed sigh betrayed what this resolve cost him. Then he turned to the physician and offered him his hand.

"I thank you for your candor, Doctor. Although the truth be bitter, I must accommodate myself to it. Let us speak more particularly of it another time!"

Hagenbach took his leave. For a few minutes silence prevailed in the room, then Wildenrod asked in a subdued voice: "Did that sentence surprise you? It did not me, I have long feared something of the sort. If Eric only soundly recovers, then, I hope, you and he will both find the separation a lighter trial than you apprehend."

"Eric will find it very light," said Dernburg, with swelling bitterness. "He has always dreaded assuming the position in life to which he was born. He shrank back before this mighty, restless enterprise, of which he was to be master and leader, with all its duties and responsibilities. He will far rather sit on the shore of the blue Mediterranean, making plans for his villa, and be glad if nothing disturbs him in his dreamy repose. And I am left alone here; forced, one day, to leave my Odensburg, my life-work, to pass into the hands of strangers. It is hard!"

"Must you really do that?" asked Oscar significantly, drawing nearer as he spoke. "You have still a daughter who can give you a second son, but you persistently refuse to the man of her choice the rights of a son."

Dernburg made a gesture expressive of his repugnance to the thought suggested.

"Let that be! Not now----"

"Just now, at this hour, I would like to speak to you. You have taken my wooing of Maia in a manner that I have neither expected nor deserved. You almost reproached me for it as if I had committed a crime."

"It is a crime, too, Herr von Wildenrod. You should not have spoken of love to a sixteen-year-old child, and bound her to you by the confession of your passion, without being sure of her father's consent. One pardons a youth for being carried away by the feelings of the moment, but not a man of your years."

"And yet, this moment has given me the highest happiness of my life," cried Oscar, ecstatically, "the certainty that Maia loves me. She must have repeated this confession to you--we both hoped for a father's blessing. Instead of this we are condemned to an endless probation. You have banished Maia from Odensburg, depriving yourself of her sweet presence, only to withdraw her from my neighborhood----"

"And what else was I to do?" asked Dernburg. "After your premature declaration, unembarrassed daily intercourse was no longer possible, if I did not agree to the engagement."

"Then do so now! Maia's heart belongs to me, neither time nor separation is going to alter that, rest assured, and I love her more than I can tell. You have to let your son go to a foreign land--well, then, let me step into his place! I have learned to love your Odensburg, and bring to it the unbroken energies of a man who is weary of his aimless existence and would like to begin a new life. Will you refuse me this, only because two decades divide me and her whom I love?"

He spoke with passionate entreaty, and could not have selected a better time than this hour in which the man, who sat there with darkly clouded brow, had seen shattered all the hopes which he had built upon his son and upon that other, whom he had, one day, wanted to see by the side of his weak and dependent heir--that plan, too, had been wrecked, since he knew, that Maia's heart was preoccupied. He need not be separated from his darling child if she became Wildenrod's wife, and he with his determined, strongly-marked character, offered him indemnity for all that he had lost. The choice was indeed not difficult.

"That is a serious, pregnant decision, Herr von Wildenrod," said Dernburg, whom this proposition surprised less than Oscar would have supposed. "If you really could adapt yourself to so complete a reversal of your former mode of life--it is no light task that awaits you, and perhaps the only reason that it has a charm for you is, because it is new and strange to you. You are unaccustomed to any kind of systematic business----"

"But I shall learn method," interposed Wildenrod. "You have often called me your assistant in jest, be you now in earnest my instructor and guide. You shall have no cause to be ashamed of your scholar! I have at last come to the conclusion that one must be useful and industrious in order to be happy. And now, pray, grant my request: you have allowed Eric to be happy in his own way, will you refuse Maia and me the same?"

"We shall see," returned Dernburg, but his tone showed that his point was half-conceded. "Eric's wedding will come off in three weeks, then Maia returns to Odensburg and----"

"Then I may ask for my bride," impetuously exclaimed Oscar. "Oh, thank you, we both thank our stern but good father."

A passing smile illumined Dernburg's brow, and although he had not yet given his consent, he did not refuse the expression of gratitude.

"But enough of that now, Oscar," said he, for the first time using the familiar form of address. "Else with your impetuosity you will force everything possible from me, and I have other business to attend to. Egbert ought to be here by this time; he comes in from Radefeld to day to report to me."

The radiant expression vanished from Wildenrod's features, and gave place, for an instant, to a slightly scornful smile; then, with seeming indifference he threw out this hint: "Herr Runeck is very much engrossed in another direction, at present. He bestirs himself in his party's service at every nook and corner."

"Yes, indeed," responded Dernburg quietly, without appearing to notice the insinuation implied. "The socialists begin to feel their own importance and their combs swell visibly. They even seem to want to put up a candidate of their own in our electoral district--for the first time."

"So it is said at all events. Do you know whom they have in view for it?"

"Not yet, but I suppose that it will be Landsfeld, who acts the leader upon all occasions. To be sure he is nothing but an agitator, his affair being merely to bluster, and hound others on. He is not fit for the Reichstag, and that party usually know their men pretty thoroughly. But the question in hand is, in general, only to test their power. The men are not seriously thinking of disputing my right to a seat."

"Is that your belief?" The Baron's eye rested with a peculiar expression upon the face of the speaker. "Well, perhaps, Herr Runeck can supply you with some more exact information on the subject."

Dernburg impatiently shrugged his shoulders. "Egbert will certainly be obliged to make up his mind now, that he knows as well as I do. If he votes with his party, in this case it is to go against me, and he and I part."

"He has already decided," said Wildenrod coldly. "You do not yet know the name of the opposing candidate?--Well, I know it. It touches you and Odensburg tolerably close--it is Egbert Runeck."

Dernburg started as though he had been struck; for a few seconds he stared hard at the Baron, as though he believed he were not in his right senses, but then he declared shortly and concisely: "That is not true."

"I beg pardon, I have it from the best authority."

"It is not true, I tell you! You have been falsely informed--must have been."

"Hardly, but it can soon be settled, since you are expecting Runeck."

Dernburg started up and began to pace the floor in the greatest excitement, but let him consider the matter as he would, it appeared to him as incredible as at the first moment.

"Folly! Egbert is not going to act in such a farce. He knows that he must oppose me, and enter the lists against his old friend."

"Do you believe that will hinder him?" asked Oscar mockingly. "Herr Runeck, at all events, stands high above all those old prejudices of gratitude and dependence, and who knows whether his election is so hopeless? For months past he has been out at Radefeld, withdrawn from observation, and had a few hundred workmen at his disposal. He will, at all events, have secured their votes, and each individual ensures him ten, nay, twenty votes among his comrades here at Odensburg. He has made good use of his time, you may depend."

Dernburg gave no answer, but his step grew ever more hurried, his mien more threatening, while Wildenrod continued:

"And this is the man upon whom you have showered benefits! He has to thank you for his education, his culture,--all that he is. You gave him a position that is envied by all the officers, and he makes use of it to secretly undermine your authority and to strike a blow at you here, with the votes of your own men."

"Do you deem that possible?" asked Dernburg with sharpness. "I think we need give ourselves no anxiety on that score."

"I hope not, but it will at least be attempted, and that is enough. Up to this time Runeck has very wisely been silent, although he must have known for months what was in agitation. This will finally open your eyes to your favorite, or do you still disbelieve my report?"

"I do. As for the rest Egbert will explain matters to me."

"Because he must! It will be an evil hour for you too, for I see how the bare possibility excites you, and yet----"

"Go, Oscar!" enjoined Dernburg, frowning. "Egbert may come any minute, and whatever may be the issue of the interview, I want to talk with him alone."

He held out his hand to the Baron, who took his departure; a proud passionate pride of victory flashed from his eyes, as the latter crossed the next room. Finally he had set foot upon the ground, where his ambition hailed him as future master, sole master, when the present ruler of Odensburg should close his eyes. Eric voluntarily vacated the field to him, if he took his wife to live in a foreign country and became completely estranged from his native place. Now they were to be realized--those proud dreams of power and wealth, beside them blooming a sweet joy unknown before. A little while longer, and the goal so ardently thirsted after would be attained and the past be blotted out--buried!

Wildenrod was just entering the front hall, when the door to this opened and Egbert Runeck confronted him. Involuntarily he retreated a step; Runeck, too, started and then stood still. He saw that the Baron wanted to pass him, but he tarried upon the threshold as though he would obstruct his passage. For a few seconds they stood thus regarding one another, when Oscar asked sharply:

"Have you anything to say to me, Herr Runeck?"

"For the present--no," answered Egbert coldly. "Later, perhaps."

"It is questionable, though, whether I shall then have time and inclination to listen to you."

"I believe you will have time, Herr von Wildenrod."

The glances of the two men crossed, one sparkling with fierce and deadly hatred, the other full of dark threatening; then said Oscar haughtily:

"Meanwhile may I desire you to move aside? You see that I want to go out."

Runeck slowly retired and left the doorway clear. Wildenrod passed him by, and again there played around his lips that mocking, triumphant smile. Now he no longer dreaded the danger that had hitherto hung over his head like a thunder-cloud. If his adversary now spoke, he would no longer find an auditor. The "evil hour" preparing for him in yonder must forever annihilate his foe.