A Noble Name; or, Dönninghausen

by Claire von Glümer

"In a moment; I only want to pluck a few roses," she made reply. But she stood motionless for a while, looking after the pair as they vanished in the dim depths of the linden avenue. Yes, she was leading him away, his sovereign, who, as he had confessed on that January evening, had ruled him by coquetry, and who would still so rule him, for the love which he had summoned to his rescue did not appear to have discovered the magic word that could break the spell. Or was it that he himself had not meant to summon it? What would he have said had Magelone not made her appearance? Idle questions upon which it were folly to ponder. Johanna walked towards the castle. Magelone was right; it was intolerably sultry beneath these trees, the air was heavy with the fragrance of the lindens. She wished she could have Elinor saddled and gallop off through the dewy meadows in the valley, or along the edge of the forest, but she dreaded Aunt Thekla's amazement, Magelone's ridicule, and Otto's companionship, so she gave up the idea.

The next morning early Otto took the jewels to town to procure a loan of Löbel Wolf, but returned in high displeasure by the next train. The old broker and curiosity-dealer would not loan money on the jewels unless with the permission of the Freiherr or his sister. When the young man had asked him angrily whether his own name were not enough to give as security, Löbel Wolf had declared that he wanted no security, he was but acting in accordance with his rule as a business-man. All that he would consent to do was to give Otto a written acknowledgment to be signed by Fräulein Thekla. At first the old lady looked grave, and made objections, since the jewels were not hers but Johanna's, but when the latter entreated her not to complicate matters by refusing to sign the paper, she complied, and Otto went back to town by the noon train.

There was no further difficulty. Otto received the necessary sum with his ticket of deposit, and returned to Dönninghausen, in spite of a tremendous thunder-storm, light of heart, and in entire unconsciousness that a far more terrible tempest was gathering above his head.

Löbel Wolf, so soon as the young man left him, betook himself to the examination of the parure. In his little office behind his shop, stuffed from floor to ceiling with all sorts of curiosities, he sat at his desk, and held the jewels beneath the light of the gas-jet perpetually burning there. They were clumsily set, but he was enough of a connoisseur to see plainly what they would be if set by an artist, and the wish was aroused in the soul of the old man, whose hobby was precious stones, to become the possessor of these.

But would the Freiherr sell them? The Dönninghausens were among the richest of the neighbouring nobility. Löbel Wolf wagged his gray head: a period of embarrassment might come for even the wealthiest, and it seemed more and more probable to Löbel Wolf that it had come for the Dönninghausens. One of the Freiherr's grandsons was making an expensive tour, another was marrying more rank than money, and the third was involved in debt and dissipation. Resolving to propose to the Freiherr the purchase of the parure so soon as he should return from Vienna, Löbel Wolf locked up the seductive stones in his safe.

But the spell of their sparkle, under which he had fallen, left him no rest, and even before Otto had reached Dönninghausen Löbel Wolf had decided to write to the Freiherr in Vienna.

For Otto, life and the world had taken on a new aspect since he had received the money which was to be his salvation. Aunt Thekla, when she handed him the jewels, had obtained from him a promise that he would confess the whole affair to his grandfather as soon as he possibly could.

"It will be an evil hour for us," she said, "but it would be worse still if my brother should discover the absence of the jewels before we had made our confession. If your plan of procuring the money from the bailiff had been practicable, you would have had to speak with your grandfather without delay."

Otto had assented, and had promised to await at Dönninghausen his grandfather's return, but as he rode back he changed his mind. He reflected that it would be cruel to trouble his grandfather with anything so disagreeable immediately upon his return home, and that it would be far easier for the old Herr, as well as for all concerned, if Aunt Thekla or Johanna would select some favourable moment for the confession and tell him all, and that it would be very desirable for the chief culprit to avoid the first outbreak of displeasure. He therefore determined to take his departure at an early date; it would not be impossible to convince Aunt Thekla of the advisability of this. Thus everything was arranged delightfully, and he could enjoy himself to the full during the rest of his stay at Dönninghausen.

The thunder-shower changed to a steady rain, which made walks or rides in the open air impossible for a time.