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

by E. Werner

At Odensburg, flags were flying, cannon being fired off from the surrounding heights, and triumphal arches, wreaths of evergreen, and flowers, everywhere greeted the young bridal-pair who had just returned, after the performance of the marriage-ceremony.

The service had taken place in the somewhat remote church of Saint Eustace, where Dernburg, too, had once stood before the altar with his own bride. Now the wedding-procession came back, a long line of carriages, at the head of which drove the equipage of the newly-married couple.

The works were silent to-day, as a matter of course, the workmen forming a lane all the way to the Manor-house, and the golden sunshine of this beautiful day in late summer enhanced the merriment and jollity that had taken possession of Odensburg to its utmost bounds upon this great occasion.

Now the carriage drove through the grand triumphal arch, that made a gorgeous display with its banners and green wreaths, drawing up in front of the terrace. Eric lifted his bride out. The foot of that young woman trod literally on flowers, which had been scattered along her path in profusion. The entrance-hall was transformed into a garden blooming with sweet blossoms, and the entertaining-rooms, now thrown wide open for the reception of their new mistress, were likewise adorned.

Dernburg followed, with his sister on his arm, his features betraying deep emotion, when he embraced his son and daughter-in-law. He had offered a costly sacrifice, when he consented to the separation and lasting abode of the young pair in the South, but the infinite rapture depicted upon Eric's face indemnified the father for it, in some measure. Then Dernburg's glance fell upon Maia, who now entered by Wildenrod's side. He surveyed the proud bearing and handsome appearance of the man, who seemed just fitted, one day, to be the presiding genius of Odensburg. He saw the sweet countenance of his darling equally illumined by the light of joy, and then the shadow passed away also from his own brow. Fate offered him full indemnity for what he had to give up.

Maia flew into her brother's arms and then kissed her beautiful sister-in-law with the greatest tenderness. Oscar, too, embraced the young pair, but as he stooped down to Cecilia, he gave her a dark look, half-solicitous, half-threatening: and she must have felt this, too, for she slightly shuddered, and by a quick movement, extricated herself from his arms.

Not much time was allowed, however, for family greetings, inasmuch as other carriages now drove up to the door, and the wedding-guests began to assemble. The newly-married pair were congratulated upon all sides and soon formed the center of the brilliant circle that had collected here. None of the prominent people in the neighborhood were missing, with the solitary exception of Count Eckardstein, who had declined the invitation.

The young husband was inexpressibly happy. On this day, that had witnessed the fulfillment of his most ardent desires, his health also seemed to have been given back to him. He no longer looked sickly and broken. With flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes, he accepted, with smiles, the congratulations offered him, and exhibited a cheerfulness and animation, that visually did not belong to his nature. His eyes continually turned to her, who had just linked her destiny with his own, as though he could not exist a moment without beholding her loved face.

And this admiration was pardonable enough. Cecilia looked radiantly beautiful in her bridal attire. The white satin gown, costly lace veil, and--Eric's present---the diamonds that sparkled on neck and arms, enhanced the peculiar charm of her appearance. Only her beautiful face looked strangely pale beneath her myrtle-crown. She too smiled and bowed, in acknowledgment of the congratulations that were spoken, and uttered the usual grateful speeches; but there was something forced and cold in that smile, and her voice was without ring. Fortunately this attracted nobody's attention, for the right to look pale and serious was allowed a bride.

The director of the Odensburg works and Dr. Hagenbach, who were both among the guests, stood in a window, somewhat apart. The former had undertaken the superintendence of the festal arrangements, with which the employés meant to compliment the son of their chief upon his wedding-day. All had succeeded beyond their expectations,--the triumphal arches, the decoration of the road to the church, the delegations, and congratulatory addresses in prose and verse, which had been partly attended to the day before. The main thing, however, was yet to come--the grand holiday parade of the workmen themselves, who were just now forming into line out of doors. The director was mildly excited because his management had been called in question, and spoke in a low, and forcible manner to the doctor, who, however, listened abstractedly and often looked across at the young pair, who were still surrounded by a circle of friends.