The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. II.

by Friedrich Spielhagen

CHAPTER IV.

He stood sunk in the deepest thought, his slender white fingers stroking his dark beard. "It is amusing to be the only well-informed man amongst the ignorant; amusing and sad. I feel it for the first time, now that I can no longer share my thoughts and plans with her. She has brought it on herself, and she is heaping wrong upon wrong. A little while ago and the measure was nearly full. If a spark of the old love remained in her she must have taken it differently. That pallor, that terror, that 'no!' at the mere vision of what formerly her soul thirsted for, as the thirsty traveller in the desert longs for the stream of water in the oasis. Only because it was a vision? Because it was not the truth? And if it were made truth?" Giraldi slowly paced the apartment. "His parents are dead, the monk may be disposed of, and the handsome youth can have no objection; he is vain and false, and in love; any one of the three would suffice to induce him to play the part. And then the likeness--it is not very striking, but she cannot convict me of falsehood when she sees him; and she must see him." In the anteroom was a stir as of several people moving; Giraldi, who was near the door, advanced a step nearer and listened; doubtless the visit announced in the niece's note. They were all pressing round her now; they who had formerly avoided Valerie as an outcast and castaway hastened to her now that she was their equal and doubly as powerful. They would try to make up by the flatteries and caresses of one hour for what they had for long years committed against her in their stupid shortsightedness. She had said once that she longed for this hour, in order that she might set her foot on the necks of her persecutors, and pay them back in their own coin for their treatment of her. He had just now repeated the words that had often been mentioned between them, but she had not taken them up. The old German love of family was moving in her towards her blood-relations, while her own flesh and blood--his own-- He struck his forehead with his clenched fist. "That was the only foolish action of my life. What would I give if I could undo it!" All was quiet again in the anteroom; Giraldi opened the door and beckoned in François, who handed him a number of visiting cards.

"I brought them out again, monsieur," said François; "I was not sure of being able to remember those German names."

"You must practise," said Giraldi, letting the cards run through his fingers; "Privy Councillor Wallbach, Frau Louisa von Wallbach (née Herrenburg Semlow), Ottomar von Werben, Carla von Wallbach--mon Dieu! it is not so very difficult--I can remember twenty names that I have heard mentioned."

"Oh yes, you, monsieur!" said François, bowing with a cringing smile.

"I expect the same of you. How did madame receive the lady who came first, the young Fräulein Elsa von Werben!"

"Mademoiselle shut the door when I wanted to follow her. I could not do it with the best will in the world. Mademoiselle seems to be very determined."

"You are a fool. And the second lady, the older one, Fräulein Sidonie von Werben, or were you out of the way again?"

"Oh! no, monsieur! She is a great lady who gives herself airs; there was no difficulty with her. She walked ten paces forward and then made her curtsey. Oh, monsieur! such a curtsey! I could not help thinking of Madame la Duchesse de Rosambert, from whose service I came into monsieur's."

"Good! and madame?"

"Madame could not help smiling--a melancholy smile, monsieur, that went to one's heart." And François laid his hand with a hypocritical look on his dazzlingly white closely-plaited shirt-front with its large gold studs.

"You may dispense with those grimaces in my presence! Go on."

"Madame, who had passed her left arm through mademoiselle's, and did not let it go now, held out her right hand and said: 'Ah, que nous----'"

"In French?"

"No, monsieur, in German."

"Then repeat it in German; the same words, if you please."

"Do we meet again thus after eighty-seven years?"

"Twenty-seven, idiot! But the actual meeting?"

"It was such a confusion, monsieur! I could not distinguish anything in particular; it was impossible, monsieur!" Giraldi shrugged his shoulders impatiently.

"If Count Golm calls, tell him that I am at home to him, and add that monsieur can only spare him a few minutes because he is himself expected in madame's salon. Then mention, casually, who is in the salon. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly, monsieur."

"One thing more; I do not pay two hundred francs a month to people to whom anything is impossible. You must perfect yourself if you wish to remain any longer in my service."

"I will do everything to satisfy monsieur, and to prove myself worthy of the confidence with which monsieur honours me." François bowed himself out of the door.

"That is to say," said Giraldi, "you have confided too much in me already to dare to send me away at a moment's notice. It is our misfortune that we cannot live without these creatures. In Machiavelli's time people took the precaution of not letting them live long. In these days one has to pay double without assuring one's safety. Ah! the Count." François had opened the door to Count Golm; the Count entered with hurried steps. He looked out of temper and absent; his attitude and the tone of his voice showed the carelessness of the man of rank, who does not think it worth his while to conceal his dissatisfaction.

"I am sorry to disturb you," he said; "but I will not take up your time for long; I have only come to tell you that in all probability nothing will now come of our bargain."

"I should be sorry for that for your sake, Count," answered Giraldi.

"Why for my sake?"

"We make nothing by the bargain, Count Golm."

"Which is as much as to say that I should gain by it! I should be much obliged, sir, if you would tell me what."

"If the Count, who proposed the bargain, does not know, we cannot pretend to do so."

"And who are 'we,' if I may venture to ask, in this case; the trustees of the Warnow property, or yourself?"

"In this case the Baroness von Warnow, whom I have the honour to represent." There was so much calm superiority in the Italian's coolly courteous manner, his black eyes shone with such a steady light, that the Count could not bear their glance and looked confusedly on the ground.

"I beg your pardon," he said; "I--I did not mean to offend you."

"And I am not offended," answered Giraldi; "I never am when I see that people vent on me the vexation which I have not caused; it is like a letter that has been addressed to me by mistake. Shall we sit down?" The Count accepted the invitation unwillingly.

"I cannot, however, consider you exonerated from all blame; it was you who told me yesterday that it would not be difficult for me to raise the first instalment of the purchase-money. As I take it for granted that you are in a general way acquainted with my circumstances, and on the other hand, you have been so long intimate with the Councillor, I could not but believe that between him and you on the one side, and him and Herr Lübbener on the other, some conversation had taken place upon the matter in question, and that you were authorised by those gentlemen to make an advance to me in their names, which could not be made by the gentlemen themselves to whom I am to sell again, though only in their capacity as directors of the new railroad. Good! I went this morning to Lübbener; he professed great astonishment, said it was very strange, might create bad feeling if it were known that he had advanced the money, still--to please me, as I was determined to be the seller--in short, he made conditions--impossible, degrading conditions, I tell you--for which I could have horsewhipped the--the fellow! I went away furious, and went straight to Herr Philip Schmidt. Herr Schmidt, you must know--"

"I know--a merchant-captain, much thought of by the Werbens. The Councillor spoke to me about him." Giraldi played with his watch-chain while he said these words in a careless, conversational tone, and looked up in astonishment when the Count exclaimed eagerly:

"Heaven forbid! What could I have to do with him! Herr Philip Schmidt is, as I learnt unfortunately too late, a cousin of that otherwise utterly insignificant fellow, who has, with incredible audacity, forced himself into the best circles; a man of no birth----"

"I beg your pardon; Herr Philip Schmidt then, to whom you went----"

"Is the contractor for the Berlin-Sundin Railroad, and is to build our line also--a successful man, fairly presentable, and immensely rich. Polite reception, as I expected, assurance on assurance of meeting my wishes; but his money was tied up in every possible undertaking; his new house had cost him fearful sums; he must keep a balance in hand for the contract for our new railroad, and--in short, scarcely better conditions than those of Lübbener. Now you see how easily I can raise the half million which you demand as an instalment." The Count pulled at his fair moustache; his pale blue eyes looked angrily at Giraldi. He made a motion to rise, but on a sign made by the latter with his white hand, remained sitting, as if rooted to his chair.

"I must again ask your pardon," said Giraldi "I thought I had made myself clear enough yesterday. I had forgotten that German ears are--I will not say duller than Italian, but different to them. I could otherwise have spared you an unpleasant morning; for what could be more unpleasant for a nobleman than to be obliged to deal with crafty men of business, still more when these men, as is apparent, are in collusion! I hope that with us you will be relieved from this and any other unpleasantness."

"'With us?' With you?" asked the Count in the greatest astonishment.

"I must again say 'we' and 'us,'" answered Giraldi, smiling; "for if I am myself only the manager, still the savings of an income of ten thousand thalers could not have increased to so large a sum without--what shall I say--some speculation by a lucky hand. For the last few years the money has been really lying idle, and I herewith offer it to the Count in the name of the Baroness." The Count stared at Giraldi; but the man's dark eyes shone as calmly as before. It could not be a joke.

"In the name of the Baroness?"

"If it so pleases you."

"The entire half million?"

"As it appears to us--this time I mean the trustees--that the payment of half the purchase-money at once is necessary for the better regulation of the property."

"And the conditions?" asked the Count, after a short pause, with a somewhat hesitating voice. Giraldi stroked his dark beard.

"We make really none, with the exception of one special condition, for the registration of the debt as a first mortgage on the property--which, as the Count knows, is quite free from debt--and the low interest of four per cent, can hardly be called conditions, but rather natural securities, which the Count----"

"Certainly, certainly," said the Count; "quite natural. And the special condition?"

"That the Count pledges his word of honour not to tell any one, be they who they may, or even to hint from whom he has obtained the money." Giraldi held out his hand with a pleasant smile. "It is the hand of a friend, not of a usurer, that we hold out to you." The Count was ashamed of his momentary hesitation. "There you have my hand and my word!" he exclaimed, laying his hand in that of the Italian. "I will speak of it to no one."

"Not even to the Baroness," continued Giraldi "She wishes to be entirely unconcerned; that is to say, quite free. The Count will understand this womanly delicacy, not to say weakness."

"Perfectly," said the Count.

"Even her name--that is her particular wish--must not appear in any part of the transaction; so that the mortgage must be made out in my name. Do you agree!"

"Of course," said the Count. Giraldi dropped, with a friendly pressure, the hand which he had till then held in his, and leaned back in his chair.

"Then we are agreed," he said. "I on my side consider myself fortunate in having delivered a nobleman, whose intelligence and energy had won my entire sympathy even before I had the happiness of making his personal acquaintance, from the unclean hands of these roturiers, and in having placed him in a position which, as it appears to me, confers on him that leading position in this affair which in every way is his right. I at least see the road quite clear before him. To raise the second half of the purchase-money--let us for the present fix the 1st of March as the term--I say to raise the second half of the purchase-money cannot be the least difficult, as by that time you will have long ago sold the property to your associates for double the money; you must not on any account agree for less than two millions. And now, Count, if it is agreeable to you, allow me to conduct you to the Baroness, who is longing to make your acquaintance, as I am sure you will be happy to become acquainted with a lady whom no one can know without loving and honouring her." Giraldi had risen; the Count stood embarrassed and undecided.

"You will easily believe that I should prize the happiness proposed to me at its fullest value; but--your servant--there are a lot of people--nearly all the family--in the salon. I fear I should be looked upon as a stranger and an intruder at such a moment."

"But if," answered Giraldi, "it should just be in the presence of her family that the Baroness especially needs the friendship of men of position and weight? If she lays the greatest stress on showing that wherever she appears the friendship of those men is secured to her."

"Let us go!" exclaimed the Count.

"One word more," said Giraldi. In the hitherto calm eyes of the Italian a deeper fire burned. The Count stood breathless; he had an undefined feeling that now he was to hear the solution of the riddle which, in spite of all, was still a mystery to him.

"And if," continued Giraldi slowly, as if weighing every syllable, "the Count should imagine that the Baroness does not expect to buy his friendship by doing him a service in a matter of business, but rather by using all her influence in his favour, in case he should have the wish, once for all, to make the reproach of being a stranger and intruder in the family impossible. I need say no more, if the Count understands, and I dare say no more if he has not understood me." The blood mounted into the Count's face.

"If he dared to understand you!" he exclaimed, seizing the hand of the Italian and pressing it warmly--"if he dared!"

"That would be my smallest fear," answered Giraldi, with a crafty smile; "but I feel neither that nor any other. Only let prudence go hand in hand with courage, and let Count Golm kindly trust in this delicate business to the experience and knowledge of the world of an older man."

"I will not take a step without you--not a step!" They had already reached the door when François entered with a card, which Giraldi, after glancing at it, handed to the Count.

"You see. Count Golm! II n'y a que le premier pas qui coûte! The cost is not counted on that side! Ask Herr von Werben to come in." François opened the door for Ottomar.

"I come at the general wish of the ladies," said Ottomar. For the first time he saw the Count, The sarcastic smile left his delicate lips; his bright eyes took a gloomy shade.

"I beg pardon," said he; "I thought I should find you alone, or I would have chosen a better time----"

"To me any time is right at which I make the acquaintance of the nephew of my highly revered friend," answered Giraldi. "Besides, the Count and I were on the point of going to join the ladies in the drawing-room; now, indeed, I must ask the Count's permission to enjoy the honour of Herr von Werben's society here for a few minutes more."

"Au revoir, then!" said the Count, leaving the room, and considering as he crossed the anteroom, accompanied by François, whether he ought to be affronted or amused at Ottomar's distant manner. He came to the conclusion that he had more cause for the latter. Ottomar, indeed, had now reached the important goal; but it was extremely probable that he never would have reached it at all if a certain other person had arrived in Berlin a few days earlier. Everybody said so; and that it was only jealousy which had brought Ottomar's indecision and faint-heartedness to an end. Faint-heartedness, indeed! To satisfy a woman like Carla von Wallbach, a man must have very different qualifications to any that Ottomar von Werben could boast--must, in short, be a Count Golm. Well, he had kindly released the family from the anxiety which he had caused them--Fräulein Elsa, too, who had evidently trembled for her brother. They owed him some gratitude, and all of them, excepting Ottomar, would feel that--they would be eager to show him that gratitude. And if when he rose that morning he had not quite made up his mind about the other matter, he had done so now. Favoured by the lady here, whom the whole family had hastened to visit the very morning after her arrival, the remaining difficulties would vanish that opposed themselves to his entering that family as a highly desirable member--if he chose to do so! Of course, he should reserve his liberty of decision to the last moment! The Count lingered a little at the door to follow up his agreeable train of thought to the end, and to arrange his fair wavy hair and long moustache to the best advantage, before he desired François, who was waiting respectfully, to open the door for him; no special announcement was needed as he was expected. François obeyed with a low bow the order given him in French, and then behind the closed door, with a still lower bow, said: "Monsieur le Comte, vous parlez français--comme une vache espagnole---je vous rends cette justice, ah!" and drawing himself up the man shook his fist: "que je déteste ce genre là!"