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

by E. Werner

CHAPTER XXV.

[TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH.]

Meanwhile, in the Manor-house they were awaiting in terrible anxiety the issue of the noise and commotion, that were plainly audible as coming from the works. When Maia came from the park, her father had already gone forth to quell the workmen, and she could not, therefore, talk with him. She took refuge with Cecilia, wanting to unbosom herself to her, but had found her in such grief and distress, that it was useless to expect from her attention and sympathy.

"Leave me, Maia!" pleaded the young widow in accents of despair. "Only leave me now! Later, I will listen to everything you have to say, and advise you, too, but now I can think of nothing, and feel nothing but his danger!" So saying, she rushed out upon the terrace, whence one could overlook the works.

Poor Maia's heart grew still heavier. His danger! By that she could only mean her father, to whom Cecilia, too, was tenderly devoted. Was he actually in such sore peril when among his workmen?

Thus more than an hour had elapsed, and Maia could stand it no longer. What was Oscar to think of her staying away? He would believe that she had wavered in her resolution, and was minded to let him go alone to destruction. She must go back to him, if only for a few minutes, in order to tell him that it was impossible to speak with her father now! With quickening breath she hurried into the park, which already lay shadowed in twilight gloom. There who should come to meet her but her father.

Dernburg, with his attendants, had selected the shortest way, the same little by-path which he had used awhile ago on his way to the works, and which could not be seen from the terrace either. Through the movement of the stretcher and pain of the wound Egbert had been brought back to consciousness: his first question had reference to Landsfeld. Hagenbach assured him that the man's wound was insignificant and did not involve the slightest danger, and a deep sigh of relief showed how much comfort this assurance gave the young engineer. Maia, who at first only saw her father, threw herself impetuously on his bosom.

"You live, papa, you are saved! Thank God, now all will be well!"

"Yes, I am saved--at this price!" said Dernburg in a whisper, while he pointed behind him. Now, for the first time, the young girl caught sight of the wounded man, and uttered a shriek of horror.

"Hush, my child!" admonished Dernburg. "I did not want to frighten you. Where is Cecilia?"

"Out on the terrace. I must run and tell her; she is almost distressed to death about you," whispered Maia, with a glance at the friend of her youth, that was full of anguish, for he looked like one dying. Then she hurried off to her sister-in-law.

Dernburg had Egbert carried into his own chamber, and helped to lay him on the bed, while Dr. Hagenbach exerted himself in his behalf, and gave a few directions to the servant-man who came hurrying in. Then the door opened, and in Maia's company appeared Cecilia. Without disturbing herself about witnesses, without even seeing them, with a wild movement, she rushed up to the couch, and there fell upon her knees.

"Egbert, you had promised me to live!" she cried despairingly, "and yet you sought death."

Dernburg stood there as though struck by lightning. He had never had even the faintest suspicion of this love, and now one unguarded moment betrayed everything to him.

"I did not want to die, Cecilia, assuredly not," said Egbert, faintly. "But there was no other possibility of saving him."

His eye turned upon Dernburg, who now approached, and continued to look from one to the other, as though dazed.

"Is that the way it stands between you two?" asked he, slowly.

The young woman did not answer; she only clasped Egbert's right hand in both her own, as though she feared that they might be parted. He tried to speak, but Dernburg would not allow him to make the effort.

"Be tranquil, Egbert," said he, earnestly. "I know that Eric's betrothed was sacred from your approach: you need not assure me of that; and after his death, you have to-day, for the first time, entered Odensburg. My poor boy! That interposition has been fatal to you--you have been obliged to pay for it with your heart's blood."

"But this blood has forced me from that chain!" cried Egbert, with a return of his old fire. "You, none of you, have any idea how hard I have found it to wear. Now it is broken--I am free!"

He sank back, exhausted, and now Dr. Hagenbach asserted himself. In the most decided manner, he forbade any talking, and any further agitation of exciting topics, in the presence of the wounded man, from whom he did not conceal the perilous in his situation.

Dernburg looked upon his daughter-in-law, who, with folded hands, looked entreatingly at him, and he understood the silent appeal.

"Egbert, then, needs entire repose," said he, earnestly, "and self-sacrificing care. I commit him to you, Cecilia--you will be the best nurse here!" Once more he stooped down to the wounded man, exchanged a few whispered words with the surgeon, and then went into his office. Maia, who had hitherto stood silent in the doorway, now followed him, but she approached her father as shyly and timidly as though she had some grievous fault of her own to confess.

"Papa, I have something to say to you," she whispered, with downcast eyes. "I know you have already gone through terrible experiences to-day--but I cannot wait. Somebody out in the park is awaiting your decision and mine--I must convey it to him. Will you hear me?"

Dernburg had turned to her. Yes, indeed, what he had gone through with that day was hard, but this was the hardest of all. He held out both arms, and folding his darling to his heart, said in a breaking voice:

"My little Maia! My poor, poor child----"

Night had come, a dark stormy night, with heavy clouds covering the face of the sky. The Odensburg works, which, a few hours before, had been full of boisterous life, now lay there silent and forsaken. It had needed no special regulations, not even a reminder, to induce the workmen to go home. Since their deputy-elect had struck down their leader, and fallen himself by the knife of one of themselves, consternation had laid hold of the people. They felt all that was hard in these proceedings, although they did not clearly understand their full bearing. Fallner was shyly avoided; and when the news got wind that Landsfeld--who came to in little over a half hour--had left Odensburg on foot, there was a complete revolution in the sentiments of the whole laboring community. There were bitter accusations and reproaches, but not against him who was struggling with death over yonder in the Manor-house--all the bitterness was directed against Landsfeld alone.

Through night and storm came a tall, solitary figure, that remained standing in front of the Manor-house, where dim candle-light was visible behind several windows, in the apartment where Egbert lay under Cecilia's charge, and also in the rooms of Maia and Dernburg. None of them slept that night. The man who stood so motionless below knew nothing of these last events. He had heard, it is true, the noise at the works when he left the Rose Lake, and he knew also the apprehensions entertained for the evening, but what was Odensburg to him now, or what was life in general?

Oscar von Wildenrod was ready for the final step. He knew that he could not, dared not see his beloved again, and yet, with an irresistible longing, he was drawn once more into her neighborhood, to the spot where abode the only being upon earth that he truly loved. He had proven it, although not until the very last hour. The means of escape that was offered him at that time he had put from him for Maia's sake, and with that sacrifice fell off all that had been calculating in his love. It remained the only pure sentiment in a corrupt and blasted life, which was now to be ended by a bullet.

Wildenrod lived over, in memory, the first evening that he had spent at Odensburg. Then he had stood at that window, up there, his head full of ambitious schemes and his heart swelling with the first sweet sensations of love for the charming girl, to whose hand was appended that wealth which he so ardently coveted. Then he had vowed to be, one day, lord and master of this world of industrial achievement, and in the full confidence of his coming victory had gazed proudly upon those works, out of whose gigantic furnaces mounted upward sheaves of flashing sparks. Now all lay in total quiet, the restless machinery stood still, the fires were extinguished. Only over yonder, where the rolling-mills were situated, glimmered a pale, uncertain light, that gradually, however, grew brighter. Oscar eyed this indifferently, at first, but then more sharply. Now the light vanished, to shoot up again directly afterwards; now it quivered here and there, and then all at once it was as if a flash of lightning rent the sky. A flame darted on high, and in its glare one saw that the whole environs were full of moving columns of smoke.

Wildenrod started up at this spectacle; in the next minute he had rushed to the house and was striking against the window of the porter's lodge.

"There is a fire at the works. Awaken Herr Dernburg! I'll hurry on!"

"Fire on this stormy night! God be with us!" cried the horrified voice of the man, startled out of his sleep. Oscar did not hear what he said, for he was far on his way to the works, where the conflagration became more and more distinctly visible. Where, formerly, even at night, hundreds used to be astir, to-day only the inspectors remained, and they lay wrapt in slumber.

Wildenrod knew the works thoroughly: he turned first to the cottage of old Mertens, who, since work at Radefeld had come to an end, had held a place here, and aroused him also. The alarm was sounded; in a few minutes some twenty men had assembled, and now the sensational, howling tones of the fire-horn were heard. Odensburg had the most admirable arrangements for extinguishing fire to be found far or near: Dernburg had formed a volunteer fire-company out of his working force, and the men were excellently drilled. But now all the bonds of order were loosed, the workmen were scattered in their remote dwellings, so that assistance from them was hardly to be expected.

Now appeared Dernburg himself, who had been sitting up alone in his office, when the alarm of fire was given, and at the same time came hurrying up some of the officers whose residences were near by. Wildenrod suddenly saw himself face to face with the man, who, a few hours ago, had admitted him to the rights of a son, and who, meanwhile, must have heard that crushing revelation. Dernburg, also, involuntarily shrank back upon catching sight of the Baron, whom he had supposed to have taken to flight, and imagined already as far away. But now there was no time for any discussion whatever--Oscar had resolutely gone up to Dernburg.

"I was the first to discover the fire," said he, "and had the fire-signal sounded at once. The flames seem to have broken out in the rolling-mills."

"Yes, that is the place!" agreed Dernburg. "But it cannot have arisen there through heedlessness--no work has been done there since noon. It must be the work of an incendiary!"

Those present all shared his opinion, it was plain, but Wildenrod cut off any further remarks. "Never mind, we must penetrate to the seat of the fire!" he cried. "In this wind all the works are in the greatest danger."

"In this wind they are lost!" said Dernburg, gloomily. "We have not the hands for putting it out."

"But our fire-company! The workmen----" objected old Mertens, but a bitter laugh from his master interrupted him.

"My workmen? They will let burn whatever is afire. Call them up as much as you please with your fire-horns, nobody is coming--nobody, I tell you! They are my works, not a hand will stir!"

But, as if in reply, loud shouts and voices were now heard, and torches were seen gleaming at the entrance to the works. A troop of workmen appeared in closed ranks, with fire-helmets on their heads and asbestos frocks thrown on, while behind them thundered the engines. And after five minutes came a second troop, and then a third and a fourth. Now the cry of "fire!" was heard on all sides; near and far it resounded, until the whole valley was alive, and lights were shining in all quarters. The works filled with men; all came and all were prepared to help.

In the beginning Dernburg had been almost petrified at the sight of these arrivals; but now, when one procession after the other emerged from the darkness, when the people came as though on a race between life and death--anything so as only to arrive in time--when the engines drove up at a gallop, then the lord of Odensburg heaved a long, deep sigh; he straightened himself up, as though he had cast from him a burden long borne, and shouted:

"Well, men, if you want to help, then, forward! Down with the fire!"

This was done, but the conflagration had already found too abundant aliment. The whole interior of the rolling-mills seemed to be in flames, and in vain they sought to force their way in. Dernburg had undertaken, in person, the superintendence of the attempts to quench the fire, and guided his men by word and look, while they obeyed him as punctually and studiously as ever.

But Oscar von Wildenrod also worked unweariedly to the same end. He did not stop to ask whether they would concede to him this right--he simply took it. He was everywhere as the emergency demanded. But although he courageously and undauntedly led forward single detachments again and again, although the engines incessantly hurled their hissing streams into the fiercest of the flames, yet the fire had an overpoweringly strong ally in the prevailing wind, and, in union with it, defied all their exertions. Like fiery serpents the flames darted out of the house windows, licking the walls and shooting their tongues forth venomously from the roof. The wind was already driving them across to other roofs; it bore burning bits of wood aloft through the air, in order to drop them again where they would kindle and extend the disaster.

Already the fire had broken out in single spots, and wherever this happened, detachments had to be sent for its extinction.

Oscar von Wildenrod had just returned from one of these side-fires, which he had had put out under his own supervision, to the starting point of the conflagration, where Herr Dernburg had planted himself like a rock. Dernburg was just talking with the upper-engineer, who stood before him with the crestfallen look of one at his wits' end.

"We are not subduing it, Herr Dernburg," said he. "Only see, the fire already threatens to catch the foundries, and if they burn, then it will make a clean sweep of the whole. There might be one expedient, perhaps, but you will not consent to it--suppose we made the attempt to turn on the water from the Radefeld aqueduct."

"No, never--that would imperil human life! Maybe volunteers might be found; in their present mood the people are capable of any sacrifice, but no man's life shall be victimized for my sake--rather let the works all burn down."

He stepped up to the engineers that were advancing to a new attack with their water-jets, and there gave a few orders, while Wildenrod, who had been listening, turned to the upper-engineer.

"What is that about the Radefeld aqueduct?" asked he, eagerly.

"The aqueduct is immediately adjacent to the rolling-mills," answered the officer. "If it had been possible promptly to open the large main pipe, then the fire might have been quenched. But there it originated and burned most fiercely, so that we could gain no access to its focus. The pipe lies----"

"I know," interposed Wildenrod. "I was present when the conduit was joined on and tested, and saw, too, how they opened the afflux. Access is impossible to it, do you say?"

The upper-engineer shrugged his shoulders and pointed to the state of the conflagration. "Earlier it might have been possible to have cleared a way with our engines, at least for a short while, but Herr Dernburg is right, the attempt would cost human life. Who would venture into those glowing walls that may cave in at any moment? And even if one did succeed in opening the pipe, and conducting the mass of water in the reservoir to the seat of the fire, how would our men get back? The smoke would smother them. If the water escapes no one would come forth alive."

"The only question is, how one may get in alive," murmured Oscar, with his eye fixed upon the leaping flames. The upper-engineer looked at him in surprise, but before he could answer the chief came back. "You assume the command over there," was his order. "Winning can hold out no longer."

The officer hurried away, and Dernburg scanned the Baron with a forbidding look. "What do you want here?" asked he in a subdued tone. "There are hands enough for putting out the fire, we do not need your help."

"More than you think, perhaps!" said Wildenrod, with a strange smile.

Dernburg stepped close up to him. "I did not want to expose you before my officers and workmen, but now I tell you, you are no longer in place here, Baron von Wildenrod. Go!"

Wildenrod met firmly the eyes that were fastened upon him so menacingly, then said slowly and earnestly: "I am going! Bid Maia farewell for me; perhaps you will still allow her--to weep for me!"

He turned off and was lost in the crowd of toilers.

Those were awful experiences that Odensburg passed through that night. The wind-chased clouds, tinted blood-red by the aspiring flames, the waving masses of men rushing hither and thither, a commingling of dreadful sounds, shouts, cries, and the clattering of the engines--it was a dismal scene.

Then, all of a sudden, there arose a mighty column of smoke from the very center of the fire, that spread out farther and farther, while at the same time a peculiar hissing and roaring became audible. The flames no longer leaped up so high as before; they seemed to sink, to flee before some mysterious power, while the smoke and the roaring were ever on the increase. Those standing around could not explain the phenomenon: suppositions of all sorts were heard, but Dernburg was the first one to solve the problem. "The Radefeld aqueduct is open!" he cried. "The water has broken in. Perhaps the pipe has burst or the fire has sprung the lock. Never mind--it brings us deliverance!"

Breathlessly all watched the conflict between the two hostile elements, but soon the flood conquered, which evidently deluged the whole surface where the fire had found its chief nutriment. Different spots on the roof were still afire, it is true, but these could be put out, and were put out, when the sea of flame in the interior had disappeared for good. Again the engines played with renewed force and activity, and now a portion of the long tottering walls tumbled down, the main building caved in, its sides falling inwards. Thus was averted all danger to the neighboring houses and the fire restricted to its own hearth.

"That was help in time of need!" said Dernburg to the officers standing around. "And that the water broke loose at the critical moment was assuredly more than accident--the interposition of a Higher Hand."

"I am afraid that it was a human hand!" returned the upper-engineer, softly.

Dernburg turned to him in surprise. "What mean you to say?"

"Baron von Wildenrod is nowhere to be found," explained that official gravely. "He spoke with me awhile ago as to the possibility of opening the conduit, and at the same time made use of a singular expression that startled me at the time. A few minutes later I saw him hurrying in that direction and there vanish. There has been no accident in this case."

Dernburg turned pale: now all of a sudden Oscar's last speech became clear to him and he understood it all. "For God's sake!" he exclaimed, with a start, "then we must penetrate to the seat of the conflagration, must at least try----"

"Impossible!" interposed the director. "Beneath those glowing, smoking ruins no living thing yet breathes."

What he said was only too true, Dernburg was obliged himself to admit. Deeply shaken, he covered his eyes with his hand. For him there was no longer any doubt but that the man who had coveted Odensburg for his own, at any price, had sacrificed himself to save Odensburg!

Hours of labor were still needed at the scene of the fire. Here and there forks of flame shot up again and had to be extinguished, the area covered by the conflagration had to be isolated, and the ever-flowing streams of the Radefeld aqueduct had to be cut off.

Day had already dawned, when it was finally possible to dismiss the people, only retaining a sufficient number of men to act as a guard. All had done their utmost, vying with one another in courage and endurance; now the men waited for their chief, exhausted as they were from their long labors, with faces blackened by smoke and their clothes dripping wet. All eyes were silently and questioningly fastened upon him, as he now stepped into their midst, his voice, although full of deep feeling, was audible to a great distance.

"I thank you, children! I shall never forget you and what you have done for me this night. You gave me warning that you had quit work, and I wanted to forbid your taking it up again. Now, you have worked for me and my Odensburg, and so I think"--here he suddenly held out both hands to an old workman with hoary head, who stood close before him--"we'll stay together now, and work together as we have done for the past thirty years!"

And in the hearty shout of rejoicing that rang forth from all quarters ended the strike at Odensburg.