CHAPTER XXIV.
[THE FATAL VENTURE.]
Waldemar entered hastily, and was approaching his mother, when his glance fell upon Leo. His face expressed something more than astonishment; it blanched suddenly and a deathly terror crept over it. For some moments he seemed incapable of speech; he measured Leo from head to foot, and his eyes flashed scorn and contempt as he at length asked slowly and emphatically,--
"Are you here, Leo, at a time like this?"
Leo's face betrayed a sort of malignant satisfaction as he saw the object of his hatred right before him.
"You certainly were not expecting me," he said, with a sneer.
Waldemar did not answer; he paid no heed to the sneering tone, he was thinking only of the danger to which Leo had exposed himself in coming to Villica in the open day. He turned away to close the door leading to the next room, and then approaching his brother, he said,--
"No, I did not expect you; neither did our mother."
"I wished to congratulate you upon your heroic exploit at the border-forester's house, for you doubtless think it heroic," said the young prince, mockingly. "You shot the forester and overawed all the others; the cowards did not venture to touch you."
"They crossed the boundary that very night," replied Waldemar; "did they reach you?"
"Yes."
"I thought so. When did you leave your command?"
"Why do you catechise me in this way?" cried Leo, furiously. "I am here to call you to an account. Come! We two have a settlement to make."
"You will remain here," said the princess, imperiously. "If a meeting between you must take place, let it be in my presence. Perhaps you will not then entirely forget that you are brothers."
"Brother or not," cried Leo, beside himself. "Waldemar has dealt treacherously with me. He knew that Wanda was my betrothed, but he has not hesitated to rob me of her and of her love. None but traitors and ren--"
The mother tried to check him, but in vain. The word renegade fell from his lips, and Waldemar started as if struck by a ball. The princess turned pale. It was not the insane fury of her younger son that frightened her, it was the expression in the face of the elder, and his menacing attitude. She feared him, and tried to restrain him, although he was unarmed, while Leo wore a sword at his side. With all the authority of a mother she stepped between them, and cried, in a commanding voice,--
"Waldemar--Leo--control yourselves! I demand obedience!"
Whenever the Princess Zulieski assumed this voice and manner, she was always sure to enforce submission. Her sons obeyed her involuntarily. Leo's hand slipped from the hilt of his sword, and Waldemar restrained his fury. He had been passing through a terrible conflict with rage and indignation, but his mother's words had brought him back to reason, and nothing more was needed to restore his self-control.
"Leo," he said, "I have borne insult enough from you; one word more, one single word, and no settlement between us can be possible except by a resort to arms. If yesterday you had the right to censure me, it is forfeited to-day. I love Wanda more than you suspect, for you have not, like me, fought against an ardent passion for years, and been driven through hatred and separation and mortal peril, to the consciousness that it is stronger than yourself; but not even for Wanda's sake would I have neglected my duty and sacrificed my honor. I would not have deserted my post and the soldiers who were intrusted to me; I would not have broken my oath of allegiance. You have done all this: our mother may decide which of us deserves the opprobrious name you hurl at me."
"What is this, Leo?" cried the princess, starting up in terror. "You are here with the knowledge and consent of your uncle? You had his express permission to come to Villica? Answer me!"
The face of the young prince had been colorless, it now became crimson; not daring to meet his mother's eye, he turned in a towering passion to his brother,--
"What do you know of my duties? Why should they concern you? You belong to our enemies. I have thus far held my place at the front, and I shall be there when needed; on this very account our business demands prompt action. I have not much time for settlement with you, I must return to my soldiers in a few hours."
"You are too late," said Waldemar, coldly; "you will not find them."
Leo apparently did not understand the import of these words; he gazed bewildered at his brother as if he were speaking in a foreign tongue.
"When did you leave your command?" repeated Waldemar, and with such terrible earnestness that his brother answered him half involuntarily,--
"Yesterday afternoon."
"The attack took place in the night; your detachment is dispersed--annihilated."
A shriek broke from the lips of the young prince. He rushed upon the speaker. "It is impossible--it cannot be! You lie! You only seek to frighten me away with such tidings," he cried.
"No, no, it cannot be!" interposed the princess, with quivering lips. "Waldemar, you can have no tidings of what occurred over the border during the night; I must have received them sooner than you. You are deceiving us; do not resort to such ignoble subterfuges!"
For some moments Waldemar gazed silently at his mother, who would sooner accuse him of falsehood than believe his brother guilty of a breach of faith. It must have been this consciousness that made his voice so icy and his words so pitiless, as he said,--
"Prince Zulieski was intrusted with an important position, and had the strictest orders not to leave it. He was in command of a detachment which protected his uncle's rear. When the attack was made, the prince was missing from his post. The subordinate officers proved unequal to the emergency; they had no definite plan of defence, and a massacre ensued. Some twenty men saved their lives by flight across the border, where they fell into the hands of our patrols. Three of the refugees lie out in the yard severely wounded; I have learned these facts from them. The rest of Prince Leo's soldiers are dispersed or slain."
"And my brother?" asked the princess, with forced composure. "What has become of the Morynskian corps?"
"I do not know," answered Waldemar. "It is said that the victors went on to W----. I have no intelligence of what has occurred there."
He was silent. A momentous, breathless pause followed. Leo had buried his face in his hands, hollow moans issued from his breast, and his whole frame was convulsed with anguish. The princess stood erect, her eyes were fixed upon him, she struggled for breath.
"Leave us alone, Waldemar," she said at last, in a hollow voice, but with her usual firmness.
Waldemar hesitated. His mother had always appeared cold, and often enough hostile to him; here in this very spot she had stood opposed to him as an embittered rival, when the strife for supremacy in Villica had broken out; but he had never seen her hard and pitiless as she appeared at this moment, and he, the stern, relentless Nordeck, was seized with apprehension and sympathy, as he read his brother's sentence in her face.
"Mother," he said gently.
"Go!" she repeated; "I have to deal with your brother; no third person must come between us. Leave us alone!"
Waldemar obeyed and left the room, but bitter and painful emotions swelled his heart to bursting as he went. He was banished when the mother wished to speak with Leo; it mattered not that she was now to let her younger son feel her anger, as she had so often allowed him to feel her affection; the elder son had no participation in either her joy or sorrow; he had always been a stranger to her, and such he must remain. He was told to go, he must not intrude between this mother and son, whether they met in love or hatred. But an emotion of pity touched this heart so cruelly defrauded of a mother's love: Waldemar knew that he was more than avenged, that his mother's love and pride were suffering the most cruel punishment in her favorite child, her idol.
He closed the door behind him, but remained in the ante-room to guard the entrance, for he knew the danger to which Leo was exposed. Prince Leo Zulieski had taken too prominent a part in the insurrection to escape even here, and he was liable to arrest and trial. He had acted very rashly in visiting the castle in broad daylight, and his presence was likely to become known. The guard that had brought the wounded prisoners was still in the village, and an escort with the other refugees might pass at any moment. Precautionary measures must be taken.
Waldemar stood at a window as far as possible from the door; he did not wish to hear anything of a conversation from which he was excluded, and it was impossible to catch a word, for the heavy folds of the velvet portiére shut out every sound. The interview was a lengthy one; more than half an hour had passed, and it still went on. Neither the mother nor Leo seemed to realize that the young soldier's danger was every moment increasing. At length Waldemar felt obliged to interrupt them. He entered the parlor, but was surprised at its silence.
The princess had left, and the door leading to her study was closed. Leo was alone in the room, and lay upon a sofa with his face buried in the cushions. He seemed completely crushed, and did not notice his brother's entrance. Waldemar approached and called him by name.
"Arouse yourself!" he said, in a low, earnest voice. "Care for your own safety! We are in close communication with L----, and I cannot guard the castle from visitors who might be dangerous to you. For the present, withdraw to your own chamber, which may be kept closed, as it has been during your absence. Paul is reliable. Come!"
Leo slowly raised his head; his face was white as death, every drop of blood seemed to have left it. He stared wildly and vacantly at his brother, but did not comprehend his words. His ear caught only the last.
"Where?"
"First of all, leave these reception-rooms, which are accessible to so many. Come, I entreat you!"
Leo rose mechanically; he stared around vacantly as if he did not recognize the familiar rooms, and did not know where he was, but as his eyes fell upon the door leading to his mother's study, a shudder passed over him.
"Where is Wanda?" he at length asked.
"In her room; do you wish to see her?"
"No; she would repel me with aversion and contempt. I can endure no more."
He leaned heavily against the chair; his usually clear, joyous voice was hollow and broken. That scene with his mother had completely unmanned him.
"Leo," said Waldemar, remorsefully, "if you had not enraged me so, I should have broken the news to you more gently; but that fatal word, 'renegade,' exasperated me beyond endurance."
"You are avenged; my mother has hurled it back at me. In her eyes I am a traitor and a renegade. I was forced to hear her and to be--silent."
There was something ominous in the rigid, unnatural composure of this fiery, passionate youth, whose whole nature seemed to have undergone a transformation within the last half-hour.
"Follow me!" urged Waldemar. "You must conceal yourself in the castle."
"No; I shall go immediately to W----. I must know what has become of my uncle and his men."
"In heaven's name, do not make the foolhardy attempt to cross the boundary in broad daylight. It would be deliberate suicide."
"I must," persisted Leo. "I know the place where passage is still possible. If I found the way this morning, I shall be able to do so again."
"I tell you that it is impossible. This morning our guards were strengthened, we have now three lines of outposts. Our men have orders to shoot every one who does not know the password. In any event, you will be too late; the conflict at W---- has already been decided."
"No matter!" cried Leo, recovering from his prostration, and breaking out into the wildest despair. "There will be a light somewhere yet,--one fight, at least, and that is all I need. Ah, you do not know what my mother's terrible words have done for me! She is fully conscious that if I am responsible for the overthrow of my soldiers, I must bear the curse and torment of my crime, and she ought to pity me; but instead of that--O my God! she is still my mother, and I have been her all!"
Waldemar trembled before this outburst of agony. "Let me call Wanda," he said; "she will--"
"She will follow my mother's example. You do not know our Polish women, and therefore"--a sort of grim triumph broke through the young soldier's despair--"therefore hope nothing from them! Wanda will never be your wife, not even after my death,--not if she dies of her love for you. You are the enemy of her people, you take sides with the oppressors of her country. This pronounces your sentence. No Polish maiden will ever become your bride. And it is well that it is so," he added, breathing more freely; "I could not die in peace, knowing that she was in your arms. Now I can die content,--she is lost to you, as well as to me."
He was hurrying away, but he paused suddenly as if rooted to the floor. For some moments he seemed to hesitate, then he went slowly and timidly to the door leading into his mother's study.
"Mother!"
All within was quiet; there was not a sign of life.
"I wish to bid you good-bye."
No answer.
"Mother!" The young man's voice faltered in agonized, heart-rending supplication. "Do not let me leave you in this way. If I cannot see you, give me one parting word--one only. It will be the last. Do you not hear me, mother?"
He fell upon his knees, and pressed his forehead against the bolted door, as if it must open to him. In vain. The door remained closed, and no sound came from within. The mother had no farewell for her son, the Princess Zulieski had no word of forgiveness for his offence.
Leo rose from his knees. His face was still rigid and colorless, but around the quivering lips and in the bloodshot eyes there was an expression of wild, intense, unutterable agony. He did not speak another word, he silently took up his cloak, threw it around his shoulders, and approached the door. His brother vainly tried to detain him.
"Let me go!" he cried, pushing Waldemar aside. "Tell Wanda--no, tell her nothing. She does not love me, she has discarded me for you. Farewell!"
He rushed away. For some moments Waldemar stood gazing after him, entirely bewildered and helpless. Then collecting his thoughts, prompted by a sudden resolution, he hastened to his mother's room. He found Paul standing at the vestibule. The old man was in great trouble at the terrible tidings he had just heard,--at the sudden departure of the young prince, who had rushed past him without a word.
"Paul," said Waldemar, "follow Prince Zulieski at once; he is rushing on to certain death. He intends to cross the boundary by daylight."
"God in Heaven!" ejaculated the old man.
"I cannot restrain him," continued Waldemar, "and I dare not aid him openly,--that would only augment his danger; but in his present desperate mood, some person must accompany him. You ride well; take a horse at once. The prince is on foot; you can overtake him before he reaches the boundary. You know the route he will take, and the place where he will attempt to cross. It is the spot where secret communication is still kept up with the insurgents, and cannot be far from the house of my border-forester."
Paul did not reply; he did not dare confirm the truth, and he had not the courage to deny it. Waldemar understood his silence.
"The strictest watch is kept at that very place,--so I hear from our officers. I do not know how my brother succeeded in passing through this morning; he cannot do it again. Hurry after him, Paul. He must not attempt to cross there. Let him try any other place, but not that. He must wait until night; he can conceal himself in the forester's house. Fellner has charge there now; he sides with me, but he will not in any event betray Leo. Hasten!"
Paul needed no urging. Intense anxiety for his young master would be sure to hurry him away.
"I shall be ready in five minutes," he said; "and I shall ride as if my life were at stake."
A few minutes after, he rode swiftly out of the yard. Waldemar, who gazed after him, breathed more freely. "This was the only resource left me," he thought. "Paul may yet overtake my brother, and save him from almost certain death."
Four, five hours passed, bringing no tidings of Leo. Communication--usually so frequent between the frontier and Villica, which was on the direct route to L----, seemed broken off to-day. Waldemar paced his room restlessly, trying to take Paul's long absence as a good omen. He must surely have overtaken Leo, and would remain at his side as far as the boundary. Perhaps both were concealed in the forester's house. At last--it was late in the afternoon--the superintendent entered hastily and unannounced.
"Herr Nordeck, will you come out into the court?" he said; "your presence is very necessary."
"What is the matter?" asked Waldemar. "Has anything happened to the wounded men?"
"O, no," returned Frank; "but I wish you to come yourself. We have tidings from the frontier; a desperate battle was fought at W---- this morning with Count Morynski's corps."
"And how has it resulted?" asked Waldemar, breathlessly.
"The insurgents are defeated, and it is said that they owe this result either to treason or to an unexpected attack. They defended themselves bravely, but were compelled to yield to superior forces. The survivors are scattered, and have fled in every direction."
"And the leader, Count Morynski?"
The superintendent cast down his eyes, and was silent.
"Is he dead?"
"No; but he is severely wounded, and in the hands of the enemy."
Waldemar had always been estranged from his uncle, but he knew how tenderly and passionately Wanda loved her father. If he had fallen in battle, she could have borne it better than to know that he was wounded, suffering, and a prisoner in the hands of his enemies. Who was responsible for the defeat of the corps which should have been protected from an attack in the rear by the detachment of Prince Zulieski?
Waldemar summoned all his self-control. "Who brought you this news?" he asked. "Is it reliable?"
"Paul brought it," replied the superintendent. "He is over yonder--"
"And why does he bring you tidings, when he knows that I have been for hours anxiously awaiting his return? Why does he not come to the castle?"
The superintendent's eyes again sought the floor. "He could not venture--the princess or the young countess might have come to the window; they must be prepared for evil tidings. Paul is not alone, Herr Nordeck--"
"What has happened? My brother--"
"Prince Zulieski has fallen. Paul brings the corpse--"
Waldemar was speechless. A great blow had fallen upon him, depriving him, for the instant, of sense and motion. All was dark around him; for some moments he covered his eyes with his hands, then he roused himself by a powerful effort, and hastened to the superintendent's house. Paul came to meet him, gazing timidly into the face of the man he had been taught to regard as an enemy, but the sorrow depicted there plainly told him that the brother of his young master, weighed down by a sorrow greater even than his own, stood before him. The old man's self-control gave way.
"Our princess!" he wailed, "she will not survive it, neither will the Countess Wanda."
"Did you not overtake the prince?" asked Waldemar.
"Yes," replied Paul, in a faltering voice; "I reached him in season, and gave him your warning. At first he would not listen; he was determined to cross the border at all hazards. He thought the denseness of the forest would protect him. I entreated, I fell upon my knees, and asked if he would allow himself to be shot down like a hunted deer. This at length moved him; he consented to wait until evening. We were just considering whether we could venture to seek admittance to the forest-house, when we were met--"
"By whom? A patrol?"
"No, by the tenant of Janowo, whom we could trust implicitly, as he has always belonged to our party. He told us that there was fighting at W----, that the battle was still in progress, and that the Morynskian corps was struggling desperately and against great odds. Our young prince now lost all reason and discretion; but one idea possessed him,--to reach W----, and plunge into the thick of the fight. We could not restrain him; he would not listen to us. Shortly after he left us, we heard shots; at first there were two in quick succession, then half a dozen all at once, and then--" The old man could not go on; his voice choked, and tears streamed down his cheeks.
"I have brought back his body," he resumed, after a pause. "The colonel who visited you at the castle yesterday gave me permission and assistance. But I dared not take him to the castle. He lies in there."
He pointed to the opposite room. Waldemar entered the chamber of death alone. The last gray beams of the departing day faintly lighted the room and revealed the lifeless form of the young prince. The landlord of Villica stood in silence by his brother's corpse. The handsome face, once glowing with animation and happiness, was rigid and cold; the dark, flashing eyes were closed, and the breast which had swelled so high with dreams, of freedom and a glorious future bore the death-wound. Whatever wrong this fiery, impulsive temperament had committed was now expiated by the blood that welled from his riddled breast, coloring his apparel with dark and fatal stains.
Only a few hours before, all the passions of youth had stormed within this lifeless frame,--hatred and love, jealousy and revenge, despair over the deed he had unwittingly committed and its frightful consequences. Now all was over, chilled in the icy repose of death. Yet upon that still, white face was stamped, as if for all eternity, that expression of bitter agony which had quivered around the lips of the son when his mother refused him a last adieu, when she let him go from her bolted door without her forgiveness, without one parting word. All else had vanished with life, but the young prince had taken this anguish with him, even into the throes of dissolution: the veil of the tomb itself would not hide it.
Waldemar left the room speechless and sad as he had entered it. As he approached those who were awaiting him without, his pallid face and trembling voice attested that he had loved his brother.
"Bring the body to the castle," he said; "I will go on before, and break the tidings to my mother."