CHAPTER XIII.
The two friends wandered up and down the brightly-illuminated platform of the station, waiting for the train. Uncle Ernst's carriage which had brought them, had come very quickly, the train was only just being made up, they had still nearly half an hour.
"You will not stop in Sundin?" said Justus.
"Only to-morrow," answered Reinhold; "I hope that will suffice to present myself before the President, and my immediate superiors, the Government surveyor, and the other gentlemen, and to receive my instructions."
"I think the President has been here," said Justus, "for the last four days. He is to be Chairman of the Board for the new railway. They made him the most splendid offer, I am told."
"So the papers say, but I do not believe it," answered Reinhold. "A man like the President could not agree to such a project, and moreover, if he were here, he would certainly have sent for me."
"And the day after to-morrow you will be at your post with a north-easter whistling in your ears, and will swagger about in your pilot coat. What a lucky man you are!" Justus sighed; Reinhold looked at his friend, who, with downcast eyes walked dejectedly beside him, and then burst into a fit of laughter.
"It is all very well to laugh," said Justus; "'laden with foreign treasures, he returns to his former home,' but how do I stand? A leafless stem."
"Do not cry yourself down, Justus."
"Ah! cry myself down!" said Justus; "do you mean to say that it is not enough to drive a poor fellow mad! I meant to have spared you this to-day, so as not to disturb your happiness and joy; but perhaps it is better for me to tell you now, instead of writing to you as I intended. You will be in his immediate neighbourhood, and will surely do me the kindness to go over some day and appeal to the old gentleman's conscience--though I don't believe he is old."
"Alack!" said Reinhold, "blows the wind in that quarter?"
"And how it blows!" cried Justus, "so that one can neither see nor hear. You know that Meta wrote to me on her arrival that every thing was going capitally. Mamma was, as she foresaw, entirely on her side, but papa, of course, made a tremendous row--only then, as she also foretold, to give in utterly a little while after, supposing that the 'stone-cutter' could maintain his daughter suitably, as he could give her nothing--not a shilling--he was a poor, ruined man. Good! I accept the ruined father-in-law, and he accepts me upon my showing that I had already for some years made--but you know all about that, and I only repeat it now to set before you in its proper light the abominable treachery of this man." Justus had halted under a lamp, and took a letter out of his pocket. "If the spelling leaves something to be desired, the letters are big enough, as you see, and the interpretation is clear enough from one point of view at any rate." Justus struck the crumpled leaf with the back of his hand, and read:
"'Sir' (the first time I was 'Dear Sir'),
"'In consequence of a telegram that I have just received from Berlin, the state of my affairs is so completely altered, my daughter's future prospects are so entirely changed, that the position which you can offer her at the best no longer appears sufficient to me; and before I give a final answer'--as if he had not done so already, the Jesuit!--'I must, as a conscientious man and provident father, beg for a few weeks delay, until the fortunate conjuncture of circumstances which has just occurred for me can be completely gone into.
"'Sincerely yours,
"'Otto von Strummin,
"'Lord of the Manor of Strummin,
Member of the Assembly, Vice-President
of the Agricultural Society of ----'
"I can't read that--but it is enough!" And Justus crumpled up the unfortunate letter, and with a scornful snort stuffed it again into his pocket.
"Am I not right, Reinhold? Every possible difficulty stands in your path, I admit, but through it all, at the worst, you have to deal with a man who is the very soul of honour, and on whose word once given--and he will give it--you may rely. You can build your house upon a solid foundation, but how can a man build a house upon sand--treacherous quicksand, which, when he thinks he is as firmly fixed as the Colossus of Rhodes, gives way under his feet? If I only knew what the 'Lord of the Manor' really means! It is my belief that the whole story--telegram, conjuncture, every thing--is all dust which he wants to throw into my eyes to get rid of me--don't you think so?"
"Of course he wants to get rid of you," answered Reinhold, "and the man's meaning is pitiful enough; but the matter to which he alludes has some truth in it, and I think I can tell you what it all means. Herr von Strummin has probably, for some reason or another, been kept in the dark as to the position of the question of the concession, so as to shut him out of a share of the first rich booty, possibly has been persuaded that the concession will not be granted. Disordered as his affairs appear to be, perhaps in a desperate condition, he was delighted to see his daughter provided for, and shut both eyes (which, by the way, are somewhat prominent) to the 'stone-cutter's' position. Now he has been informed that the concession is a fait accompli, some additional promises--God knows what--have been made to him, and everything looks bright to him. He reminds himself that he is lord of the manor and so forth, and that it is his duty to protect his daughter from a mesalliance. You see it is again the old pitiful bargaining with men's hearts, sticking to insane prejudices at the expense of all sound morality. But console yourself, Justus, it is not you, but Herr von Strummin who has built his house upon sand. He will find it out soon enough, and he will come to you and say, 'My dear sir, I have been terribly in the wrong, and here is my daughter's hand.'"
"That would be splendid," said Justus, smiling in spite of his trouble, "only--I do not believe in it."
"Justus! Justus!" cried Reinhold; "do I hear this from you? From whom have I learnt that sandstone is hard to work, but marble much harder, and that whoso works all his life in sandstone and marble must take life easy, if he would not have the devil take possession of him. Do you really mean him to take possession of you?"
"You may well say that," answered Justus; "I do not recognise myself any longer. It is as if gipsies had stolen me in the night, and left a miserable, dismal, incapable sneak in my place. All that I have lately done has been rubbish, which I would undo were I not certain that I should make it still worse. Oh! this love! this love! I have always foreseen it, I have always said it would be fatal to me; it always has been fatal to every artist. To-day, whilst you were paying your visit, I glanced into Ferdinanda's studio. She is working at a Bacchante--in her present mood! but there is genius in it, only it is carried to madness, to absolute caricature. That is what she has got by it, that glorious creature! Uncle Ernst is all right again. He has allowed himself to be elected delegate of the city, because he has not got enough to do, and next year will have himself elected to the Chamber of Deputies and the Imperial Diet, and will stupefy himself with work, which is at any rate more wholesome than wine. But poor, poor Ferdinanda! I think, Reinhold, you must get in." The platform had meanwhile filled with travellers, some of whom hurried into the opened carriages, or after taking possession of their places, stood chatting at the doors. Amongst the latter was a party of young men in shooting dress, whom the two friends had just passed.
"I don't think he will come," said one of them, in whom Reinhold thought he recognised Herr von Tettritz.
"Seems so," said another--Herr von Wartenberg, as Reinhold, turning his head, convinced himself. From the door of the waiting-room hastily appeared a gentleman, also in shooting-dress, followed by a soldier-servant carrying the game-bag and gun over his shoulder. It was Ottomar. And Ottomar, for all his haste, had at once recognised the two friends. They saw how he started, and then, as if he had remarked nothing, passed on, but suddenly turned round.
"I am not mistaken. Good-evening, gentlemen. You are coming with us?"
"I am," said Reinhold, "to Sundin."
"Ah! I heard as much from my sister, who, I think, had it from Fräulein von Strummin, and also at Wallbach's, from whom I have just come. You have got the post; I congratulate. Sorry I was not at home this morning. Parade, barracks--nonsense! You may be thankful that you have nothing more to do with such stuff. I envy you, by Jove! It's shameful that we have seen so little of each other lately. It's a little your fault too; you might have let yourself be seen again. I shall heap coals of fire on your head, and visit you at Wissow--next spring. Golm has invited me to shoot snipe--best in all Germany, so he says, and I believe him--for once. My sister will very likely come earlier--to Warnow; perhaps Fräulein von Wallbach also. My aunt Valerie, who finds this place too noisy, has invited both the young ladies. Au revoir, then, or will you--but that will not do--we are already six. We are only going as far as Schönau, a property belonging to an uncle of the Captain's. Au revoir, then. I will soon pay you a visit too, if you will allow me--it was delightful in your studio. I must also see Fräulein von Strummin; I hear she is wonderfully----"
"Take your seats, gentlemen!" said the guard.
"Werben, Werben!"
"Coming! Good-bye, good-bye!" Ottomar shook hands with the friends in passing, and hurried to his clamouring companions.
"Does he know?" asked Justus.
"No--by-and-by, perhaps; it is, for the present, a strict secret between Elsa and me. I shall write to the General from Wissow."
"It is better so," said Justus. Reinhold did not answer. The evening of his arrival stood out suddenly, with all its details, in his memory. How eagerly Ottomar had then sought his friendship, how heartily Uncle Ernst had received him, how Ferdinanda herself had welcomed him! And now! It was not his fault--that was at least a consolation.
"Here is an empty carriage," said Justus.
"Farewell, my dear Justus! Say goodbye again to Cilli for me, and Herr Kreisel, and tell him not to trust in the Sundin-Wissow; and hearty thanks for your friendship and affection."
"Not a word more, or--I am desperately sentimental to-day. This love--this horrible----" Justus smothered the rest of his blasphemy in a mighty embrace, pulled his broad-brimmed hat over his eyes, and rushed away.
"Good fellow!" said Reinhold to himself, as he arranged his goods in the carriage. "I never should have credited him with it. Strange! What has restored to me courage, and the old feeling of security, has robbed him of his ready creative power and his cheery humour. And yet the impediments which lie in his way are child's-play compared to those that surround us. God grant he may soon smile again! Cilli is right--he cannot live without sunshine." Reinhold had seated himself. The signal for starting had already been given, when the door was again thrown open, and a gentleman was hastily bundled in by the guard.
"Here, please, I have no more empty carriages. Your ticket at the next station!" The guard shut the door.
"Good-evening, President; allow me," said Reinhold, taking the President's great travelling-bag and putting it in the net.
"Good gracious! is it you?" cried the President. "Where are you going?"
"I would not fail to present myself before you in Sundin on the 1st of December, according to your orders," answered Reinhold, rather surprised.
"Yes, yes, of course!" said the President. "Pardon me--such a stupid question! I am so worried, so perplexed--once more, forgive me!" And he stretched out his hand to Reinhold with his accustomed gracious friendliness.
"It is quite unnecessary, President," said Reinhold; "I know that you are busied about more important things and men."
"Yes, yes, more important things," said the President--"evil things! And the men--these men, these men--pray sit opposite to me! One can talk so much better, and I am very glad to see an honest face again." The President wrapped his rug round his knees. His fine, clever face looked pale and worn, and the touch of quiet irony and sarcastic humour which Reinhold had noticed at their first meeting had altogether failed him.
"I have been four days in Berlin," said the President, "and should certainly have begged you to come and see me, only, to confess the truth, I have been skulking about like a criminal with the police after him, so as not to be seen by any respectable men, if I could avoid it. Perhaps you know what took me to Berlin?"
"The papers, President----"
"Yes, yes, the papers. Unfortunately there is no longer any decent obscurity. Everything will come out, and if it were only confined to the truth!--but unfortunately it is generally neither the whole truth, nor even the half. What falsehoods have not people--that is to say, the gentlemen concerned in the matter--told about me! I was concerning myself actively in the existence of the railroad, working for it, dinning into the Minister's ears that the concession must be granted--I, who have fought against it from the first, and warned the Minister most strenuously against it! Then, as that would not do, they attacked me from the other side. I had been an opponent, a determined opponent--I had been convinced at last--Saul had become Paul. That sounded more probable, but not probable enough. I was not convinced--I was simply bought. That was believed at once--it spoke for itself. A President, with his few thousand thalers salary, notoriously devoid of private fortune, the father of six children--how could he withstand such inducements! It is a shame and disgrace that it was believed, as it will be believed to-morrow, that there was not enough offered! The crafty fellow knows only too well what he is worth; he will quietly bide his time, watch for his opportunity, and feather his nest well!' That is the worst, you see. Confidence, is shaken in the honour and integrity of our officials. It is the beginning of the end for me--the threatening cloud which foreshadows a future which I pray God I may never live to see!" The President tugged here and there at his rug which he was generally so careful to keep smooth, unfastened his kid gloves which he had just buttoned, and drew them off his trembling hands. Reinhold himself was moved by the intense emotion of a man usually so cautious and so shrouded in diplomatic mists.
"It would be presumption in me," he said, "if I ventured to contradict a man of your great experience and judgment. Nevertheless I cannot refrain from suggesting that, just because the case concerns you so nearly, you may perhaps see it in too black a light."
"May be, may be!" said the President, "but this is no isolated case; there are others which unfortunately speak on my side, where high officials have succumbed to the temptation put before them. And then----" He was silent for a few minutes, and then continued even more excitedly:
"If the higher powers only had tact, I say--only tact not to strengthen this most dangerous, and I confess exaggerated, tendency of the public mind to suspicion and distrust. But you will feel it painfully--the slightest acquaintance was sufficient to make one honour and respect the man--General von Werben----"
"I know, President," said Reinhold, as the President again became silent; "and my acquaintance with that excellent man has not been a transient one."
"Well then, what do you say to this?" cried the President. "Differences have existed between him and the Minister, I know; differences which must have been settled by a superior authority. It is difficult, it is almost impossible to work with any one who is determined not to act in concert. One must give way, and of course the inferior; but just at this time that should have been avoided. It will throw fresh oil into the fire, as if it did not burn fiercely enough already, as if matters had not already been made easy enough for these promoters! They will laugh in their sleeves: 'Do you see that? do you hear that? We had just intended, modest as we are, to take our shares into the market to-morrow at 75; but now we ask 80--85! Paper that can send a General von Werben flying, cannot be difficult to float!'
"You will see, my dear sir, they will trumpet it in all the papers, and--even if it is all false--if the General's position were untenable, the mob goes by outward appearance, judges by outward appearance, and--outward appearance is against us." The rug slipped from his knees, but he never seemed to observe it.
"And if that were all! But we, of whom our illustrious sovereign has so rightly said that we are appointed by fate to eat our bread in the sweat of our brow, we begin to desire to live for show, for glittering useless show. Take this railway business; it is all show whichever way you look at it--good high roads, decent communal roads are all that we need for the moderate requirements of our island, which the prospectus boastfully calls the 'granary of Germany.' Show is the security upon the ground of which alone the concession can be obtained; I know that they could not raise even the few hundred thousand thalers. The subscriptions according to rule from 'good and substantial houses,' are show--shameful show; the only real subscription is from Prince Prora, through whose territory nearly a third of the railway passes; the other ten million are from Count Golm, and Co.--and not one thaler is paid up, or ever will be paid. So it goes on, so it must go on. You can't gather figs from thistles, and as to what is to be expected from that magnificent harbour which is to crown the whole, well, you know all about that as well as or better than I do." The President stood up and went to the window, through which the lights of the town were already disappearing. Then he came back to his place and said as he leant over towards Reinhold, in an almost mysterious voice:
"Do you remember a conversation on the evening when I had the pleasure of making your acquaintance at the Count's table at Golmberg? I have so often thought of it lately. Your storm--I hope to God it may not come--but if it comes as you have prophesied, I should take it for a parable of what is hanging over us. Yes! for a sign from heaven! to awaken us, to startle us out of our criminal intoxication, out of our empty, visionary life, to withdraw the glittering show from our eyes, to show us, as Fichte says, 'that which is.' Ah! where is the hand which would now write us 'Speeches to the German nation?' I would bless that hand. Instead of it our philosophers prate about the intellect, which is meant for nothing but to lead the will into absurdities, and to crush and destroy all joy and cheerfulness which is yet the mother of all virtues; and our poets are disciples of the French school, and learn how to be frivolous and disreputable to the heart's core without offending external proprieties, or wander, poor creatures, with their beggar's staves in the ruins of the age, and try to make us believe that the clouds of dust that they raise are creatures of flesh and blood; and our composers show forth the blasé impudence, the shameless sensuality of the age in music which fairly bewilders the moral and æsthetic feelings of the great and small world, or heats the fevered blood to madness.
"It cannot remain so. It is impossible; a nation cannot continue to dance before the golden calf and sacrifice to Moloch. Either it will be overwhelmed in the flood of its sins, or it must cling to the saving Ararat of honest, manly, and middle-class virtue. God grant that our people may have strength for the latter. There are times when I despair of it." The President leant back and closed his eyes. Did he wish to break off the conversation? Was he too much exhausted to pursue it further? At any rate, Reinhold did not venture to express the thoughts with which his heart was full. Each sat silent in his corner. The last lights of the town had long disappeared. Over the broad, dark plain, through which the train rushed, lay a light covering of snow, from which the woods rose up gloomily. Above, in the darkening sky, sparkled and shone, in countless numbers, the eternal stars. Reinhold's eyes were gazing upwards. How often had he so gazed from the deck of his ship on stormy winter nights with an anxious, fearful heart! And his heart had again beat high with courage, if only one of the loved and trusted lights illuminated his lonely path. And now, when they all beamed upon him, those silver stars--and greater, mightier than all, the star of his love--now, should he lose courage? Never! The storm might come--it would find him ready; it would find him at his post.