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

by E. Werner

CHAPTER XIII.

[RUNECK LEAVES ODENSBURG.]

When Runeck entered his chief's work-room, he found him at his desk, and there was nothing unusual in the manner of his reception and the way in which his salutation was returned. Not until he took out a portfolio and opened it did Dernburg say:

"Let that be, you can report to me later; for now I must talk with you about something more important."

"I should like to have your attention for a few minutes, beforehand, if you please," said Egbert, taking a number of papers from the portfolio. "The works at Radefeld are almost finished, the Buchberg is tunneled, and the whole water-power of the estate available for Odensburg. Here are the plans and the drawings; the only thing to do now is to conduct the supply to the works, and this can be done by some one else if I withdraw."

"Withdraw? What does that mean? That you will not carry the works on to completion?"

"No. I have come to--to beg my dismissal."

The words sounded low, and were evidently hard to utter, and the young engineer avoided looking at his superior. The latter gave no sign of surprise. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms.

"That, indeed! Well, you must know what you have to do. If you really want to go, I shall not detain you. But I believed that you would at least complete the work you had undertaken. It has not otherwise been your way to half do things."

"I am going for that very reason. The voice of another duty calls me, that I must obey."

"And which makes it impossible for you to remain at Odensburg?"

"Yes!"

An infinitely bitter expression flitted across Dernburg's features. Here was the confirmation of that which he had not wanted to believe; there was hardly any need to put the question.

"You mean the approaching elections?" said he with freezing calmness. "It is said that the Socialists are going to put up a candidate of their own for our district, and you, I suppose, are determined to vote for him. In that case, I can well understand how you should ask for your discharge. Neither the confidential position that you hold at Radefeld, nor your relations to me and my family comport with such a step as that. There is no deceiving of ourselves into imagining that the antagonism here is against any one but myself."

Egbert stood there speechless, his eyes fixed on the ground. One could see how hard it was for him to make a confession, which was not lightened for him by word or hint. But suddenly he straightened himself up with determination stamped upon his face.

"Herr Dernburg, I have a disclosure to make to you, which you will misinterpret, but which you must hear nevertheless. The candidate whom my party has nominated is--I."

"Do you actually demean yourself so far as to make me such a communication?" asked Dernburg slowly. "I hardly believed it. The surprise intended would have been more complete, if I had learned it through the newspapers."

"What, you know already----" exclaimed Egbert.

"What you have found good to hide from me until today. Yes, I knew it and wish you good luck in your schemes. You are not timid, with your eight-and-twenty years; you already boldly grasp at an honor which I first felt to be my due after the toil of a lifetime. You have barely left apprentice-years behind you, and already allow yourself to be lifted upon the shield, as tribune of the people. Well, good luck to you!"

Listening to the bitter sarcasm of this speech, Runeck's complexion changed rapidly, the color coming and going, while his voice had not its wonted firmness, when he replied:

"I have feared that you would take such a view of the matter, and this makes yet more painful the position into which I have been forced by the action of my party. I resisted to the last moment, but at last they----"

"Forced you, did they?" interrupted Dernburg with a bitter laugh, "of course you are nothing but a victim to your convictions. I foresaw that you would screen yourself thus. Give yourself no trouble, I understand."

"I speak truth, I think, you know that," said Egbert, solemnly.

Dernburg got up and stood close in front of him.

"Why did you come back to Odensburg, if you knew that the difference between us was an irreconcilable one? You did not need the position that I offered you. The whole world stood open to you. Yet why do I ask? The thing was to prepare for the contest with me; to undermine the ground upon which I stand; to betray me first on my own soil, and then strike----"

"No, I did not do that!" impetuously declared Runeck. "When I came here, nobody dreamed of the possibility of my election, and I least of all. Landsfeld was alone in our eye. This plan did not loom up until last month, and culminated only within the last few days, despite my opposition. I durst not speak sooner, because it was a party-secret."

"Really! Well, the calculation is very cleverly made. Neither Landsfeld nor any other person would have had the least prospect of success. Where the matter in hand was to unseat me the plan would have been wrecked at the very outset. You are the son of a workman, have grown up among my people, gone forth from among their midst, and, in short, they are all proud of you. If you make it clear to them that I am, at bottom, a tyrant, who has been oppressing them and consuming all their substance all these years, if you promise them a return of the golden age--it takes hold upon and leads the people astray--you they will believe, perhaps; doubtless you are a distinguished orator. If the man, who has been treated almost like my own son, puts himself at their head, to lead them into battle against me, then their cause must be the right one, then they will swear by it."

These were almost the identical words which the young engineer had heard months ago from the mouth of Landsfeld, and his eyes fell before the piercing looks of Dernburg, who now drew himself up to his full height, as he continued:

"But we are not at that point yet. It still remains to be seen if my workmen have forgotten that I have labored with them and cared for them these thirty years, if a bond that has been forging for a whole generation is so easily broken. Try it. If any one can succeed, it will be you. You have been trained in my school and mayhap have learned how to strike down the old master."

Egbert had turned pale as death; upon his features was mirrored the conflict that was raging within his soul. But now he slowly raised his eyes.

"You condemn me, and yet, if put in my place, would perhaps not act differently. I have often enough heard from your own mouth that discipline is the first and highest law of every great undertaking. I have bowed and must bow to this iron law--what it has cost me, nobody but myself knows."

"I ask obedience from my men," said Dernburg coldly. "I do not compel them to commit treason."

Egbert writhed, and a glance almost threatening flashed from his eyes.

"Herr Dernburg, I can take much from you, especially in this hour; but that word--that word I cannot bear."

"You will have to bear it. What have you done out yonder at Radefeld?"

"What I can answer for, to you and myself."

"Then you have performed your task poorly and they will have their revenge upon you. Yet, why bring up the past? The question is about the present. You are the candidate of your party, then, and have accepted the nomination?"

"Since it is a party measure--yes! I must submit to it."

"You must!" repeated Dernburg with bitter scorn. "That is every third word with you, now; formerly you were a stranger to it. Then it was only you would. You deemed me a tyrant, because I would not forthwith adopt your sublunary ideas about the welfare of the people, and rejected this hand, that would have guided you. You wanted your course in life to be unimpeded. And, lo! now you bow your neck to a yoke, that enchains your whole being, forcing you to break with all that is dear to you, that lowers you even down to treachery--do not flare up so, Egbert, it is so! You should not have come back to Odensburg, if you had known that such an hour as the present must come. You should not have remained when you learned that they would force you to heed the opposition against me--but you did come back, and stayed because they bade you do it. Call it what you like, I call it treachery! And now go, we are done with one another!"

He turned off. Egbert, however, did not obey, but drew nearer, yielding to an irresistible impulse.

"Herr Dernburg--do not let me go thus! I cannot part from you in this way--you have been like a father to me!"

There was in this outbreak of long-pent-up anguish, an intensity of grief that was truly appalling in one usually so self-contained as Runeck, but the sorely provoked man, who stood before him did not, or would not, see it, but drew back; and his whole attitude and manner were expressive of repulse, when he said:

"And the son lifts his hand against the 'father.' Yes, I would gladly have called you son--you above every one else in the world; I showed it to you, too, plainly enough. You might have been lord of Odensburg. See if your comrades will thank you for the immense sacrifice which you have made for their sakes. And now this is all over--go!"

Egbert was effectually silenced; he made no further attempt at reconciliation, slowly he turned to go; only one last agonized glance he sent back from the threshold, then the door closed behind him.

Dernburg threw himself back in a chair and put his hands over his eyes. Of all the trials that had come down upon him to-day, like an avalanche, this was the heaviest. In Egbert he had admired the brave, strong spirit, so like his own, that he had wanted to bind to himself for the rest of his life, and now it seemed to him that in parting from this young man, the best part of his own power and his own life had also taken their departure, never to return.

With heavy heart Runeck hurried through the entrance-hall, rushing along as though the ground burned beneath his feet. It was plain how much this hour had cost him, the hour in which he had torn loose from all that was dear to him, how dear, he now felt fully for the first time when he had lost it. "You might have been lord of Odensburg!" In that one sentence lay the greatness of the sacrifice, which he had offered up--and offered up to whom?

It had been long since he had felt any of that joyful enthusiasm which neither asks questions nor doubts. However, to resolve and act were no longer left to his free choice; it was no longer for him to will--he must.

Just then there was heard, quite close to him, the rustling of a woman's silk skirt: he looked up and found himself face to face with Baroness Wildenrod. For one instant he stood as it were, transfixed, then was about to pass by with a profound bow. But Cecilia stepped close up to him and said, in a low tone:

"Herr Runeck!"

"Gnädiges Fräulein?"

"I must speak to you."

"Me?" Egbert thought that he could not have heard aright, but she repeated in the same tone:

"Speak with you alone--please let me!"

"I am yours to command."

She took the precedence, he following her into the parlor. There was nobody there, and even if any one had appeared, the meeting might have passed for an accidental one. Cecilia had stepped up to the fireplace, as though she wanted to take refuge from the sunshine, which poured in its bright golden rays, through the lofty windows. A few minutes passed ere she spoke. Runeck, too, was silent; his eyes scanning her countenance, which was so entirely different from what it had appeared earlier.

Eric was right; the radiantly beautiful creature that he had brought home as his promised bride had strangely altered. She was no longer the gay, captivating girl, whose whole being sparkled with high spirits and the joy of existence. A pale, trembling girl leaned against the marble pillars upon which rested the mantelpiece, with downcast eyes, a painfully drawn look about the mouth, and she sought after words that would not cross her lips.

"I wanted to write to you, Herr Runeck," she finally began. "Then I heard to-day that you were in the Manor-house, and determined to speak to you in person. There is need of an explanation between us."

She paused, seeming to expect an answer, but as Egbert only bowed in silence, she continued with visible effort: "I must recall to your mind our interview on the Whitestone; you will have forgotten it as little as I have forgotten the words, the threats which you hurled at me. They were darkly mysterious to me at the time and are still so, even now; but, from that hour, I have known you to be the implacable foe of my brother and myself----"

"Not of you, Baroness!" exclaimed Egbert. "I had been in grievous error, which was explained away at that time. I begged your pardon, which, however, you would not grant. My words like my threats had reference to another."

Cecilia lifted her eyes to him, and the deprecatory look in them was touching to behold.

"But that other is my brother, and what touches him touches me as well. If you ever confront him as you did me that time, the issue will be a bloody, a horrible one. For weeks I have been trembling at the thought of it, and now I can stand it no longer. I must have certainty,--what do you intend to do?"

"Does Herr von Wildenrod know of that scene on the Whitestone?" asked Egbert with strong emphasis.

"Yes!" This word was well-nigh inaudible.

Runeck asked no farther. In the first place, he had no need to hear what Wildenrod's answer had been, it was written clearly enough in Cecilia's distressed looks, and he spared her the painful question.

"Compose yourself," said he earnestly. "The meeting which you fear will not take place, for to-morrow morning I quit Radefeld and Odensburg. And inasmuch as you are going to the South with Eric, Herr von Wildenrod will have no further occasion nor pretext for remaining longer after your marriage. That will rid me of the necessity for meeting him in a hostile manner. But that there is no need to protect Odensburg and the Dernburg family against you, I well know now."

He little suspected what a blow these words inflicted upon Cecilia. She knew Oscar's vaulting schemes, she knew that through her betrothal, he had only paved the way for the accomplishment of his own aims, that the knot between him and Maia, would, sooner or later, be tied, and make him master of Odensburg; but she kept her lips tightly closed, closed although fully conscious of the wrong that she committed, in order that the specter of dread which had just been exorcised, should not again be called up, to haunt her again with new terrors.

It was still as death through the length and breadth of that vast apartment, only the monotonous ticking of the great standing-clock made itself heard, marking the flight of seconds, of minutes--how fast they did fly in that farewell hour!

Then Egbert drew one step nearer, and with a peculiarly vibrant sound in his voice said:

"I did you great injustice, with those unsparing words of mine, so great that you cannot forgive me. I had to believe that you stood, with open eyes, in the midst of the relations that encircled you; how could I imagine that they had left you in perfect ignorance? Will you, in spite of all that has happened, hear from me, one last entreaty, one warning?"

The young girl silently nodded her head in the affirmative.

"Your marriage sunders all such connections, and frees you from your brother's control--then free yourself from his influence, at any price! Let him no longer have any power over your future life, for it is unwholesome and brings destruction. What I only suspected formerly, I now know for a certainty. The Baron's path leads to an abyss--who can say where it will end?"

Cecilia shuddered at these last words. She thought of Oscar's dark threat, when she refused to stay at Odensburg, and the image of her dead father loomed up before her.

"No farther, Herr Runeck," said she, forcibly recovering her self-control. "You are talking of my brother!

"Yes, of your brother," repeated he, with marked emphasis. "And you have nothing to say in refutation of my charge. You know then----"

"I know nothing, will know nothing--Oh! my God, have pity on me!"

She clasped both hands before her face, and tottered, as though she would fall. The same instant Egbert was already at her side, supporting her; just as that time on the Whitestone, the beautiful, fair head, with closed eyes, lay upon his shoulder.

"Cecilia!"

It was only a single word, but it escaped Egbert's lips in the fervent tone of passion, and at its sound, the large dark eyes opened and met his. For a second their looks mingled--rather an eternity. With loud, clear strokes, the clock told the midday hour. Egbert let his arm drop and drew himself up erect.

"Make Eric happy!" said he, with difficulty, in a hollow tone: "Farewell, Cecilia!"

In the next minute he had left the room, and Cecilia, pressing her hot brow against the cold marble of the mantel-piece, wept and wept, as though her heart would break.