Dernburg looked upon his daughter-in-law, who, with folded hands, looked entreatingly at him, and he understood the silent appeal.
"Egbert, then, needs entire repose," said he, earnestly, "and self-sacrificing care. I commit him to you, Cecilia--you will be the best nurse here!" Once more he stooped down to the wounded man, exchanged a few whispered words with the surgeon, and then went into his office. Maia, who had hitherto stood silent in the doorway, now followed him, but she approached her father as shyly and timidly as though she had some grievous fault of her own to confess.
"Papa, I have something to say to you," she whispered, with downcast eyes. "I know you have already gone through terrible experiences to-day--but I cannot wait. Somebody out in the park is awaiting your decision and mine--I must convey it to him. Will you hear me?"
Dernburg had turned to her. Yes, indeed, what he had gone through with that day was hard, but this was the hardest of all. He held out both arms, and folding his darling to his heart, said in a breaking voice:
"My little Maia! My poor, poor child----"
Night had come, a dark stormy night, with heavy clouds covering the face of the sky. The Odensburg works, which, a few hours before, had been full of boisterous life, now lay there silent and forsaken. It had needed no special regulations, not even a reminder, to induce the workmen to go home. Since their deputy-elect had struck down their leader, and fallen himself by the knife of one of themselves, consternation had laid hold of the people. They felt all that was hard in these proceedings, although they did not clearly understand their full bearing. Fallner was shyly avoided; and when the news got wind that Landsfeld--who came to in little over a half hour--had left Odensburg on foot, there was a complete revolution in the sentiments of the whole laboring community. There were bitter accusations and reproaches, but not against him who was struggling with death over yonder in the Manor-house--all the bitterness was directed against Landsfeld alone.
Through night and storm came a tall, solitary figure, that remained standing in front of the Manor-house, where dim candle-light was visible behind several windows, in the apartment where Egbert lay under Cecilia's charge, and also in the rooms of Maia and Dernburg. None of them slept that night. The man who stood so motionless below knew nothing of these last events. He had heard, it is true, the noise at the works when he left the Rose Lake, and he knew also the apprehensions entertained for the evening, but what was Odensburg to him now, or what was life in general?
Oscar von Wildenrod was ready for the final step. He knew that he could not, dared not see his beloved again, and yet, with an irresistible longing, he was drawn once more into her neighborhood, to the spot where abode the only being upon earth that he truly loved. He had proven it, although not until the very last hour. The means of escape that was offered him at that time he had put from him for Maia's sake, and with that sacrifice fell off all that had been calculating in his love. It remained the only pure sentiment in a corrupt and blasted life, which was now to be ended by a bullet.
Wildenrod lived over, in memory, the first evening that he had spent at Odensburg. Then he had stood at that window, up there, his head full of ambitious schemes and his heart swelling with the first sweet sensations of love for the charming girl, to whose hand was appended that wealth which he so ardently coveted. Then he had vowed to be, one day, lord and master of this world of industrial achievement, and in the full confidence of his coming victory had gazed proudly upon those works, out of whose gigantic furnaces mounted upward sheaves of flashing sparks. Now all lay in total quiet, the restless machinery stood still, the fires were extinguished. Only over yonder, where the rolling-mills were situated, glimmered a pale, uncertain light, that gradually, however, grew brighter. Oscar eyed this indifferently, at first, but then more sharply. Now the light vanished, to shoot up again directly afterwards; now it quivered here and there, and then all at once it was as if a flash of lightning rent the sky. A flame darted on high, and in its glare one saw that the whole environs were full of moving columns of smoke.
Wildenrod started up at this spectacle; in the next minute he had rushed to the house and was striking against the window of the porter's lodge.