"That is my business. I shall be well able to defend myself."
"I thank you," said Brunnow, in a trenchant tone. "I shall stay to-morrow, and shall then go to the station without the cover of the Raven baronial livery. You will easily understand that I prefer even a possible risk to your protection."
"Rudolph, be reasonable," warned the Baron. "This unhappy obstinacy may cost your freedom."
"What matters it to you? We are enemies, are we not? more bitter enemies than ever from this hour. We shall hardly meet again in this life, but think of my words, Arno. As yet you stand secure on the giddy height to which you have climbed; as yet you look down disdainfully on the dangers now gathering around you. A day will come when the foundations, whereon your power rests, will rock and reel, when all the world will fail you, and then"--here Brunnow's bent form was drawn erect with a certain majesty--"then you will see that it is of some worth to have kept one's faith in one's best hopes and aspirations. The testimony of my conscience has sustained me. You will have no stay, when the glittering edifice of your ambition crashes to the ground. You have been false to yourself. Farewell."
He turned and went. Raven stood, moody and motionless, looking after him.
"False to myself!" he repeated, in a low voice. "Even so--he is right."
CHAPTER XVI.
All was quiet in the town. The "energetic measures" had produced their effect, although they had not been carried into execution with such disastrous rigour as at first appeared. Colonel Wilten knew very well that, notwithstanding the Governor's high standing and authority, some portion of the responsibility would rest with him. On the troops being called out, he gave orders, therefore, that at the word of command the first round should be fired, not among the crowds assembled, but in the air. He counted on the blind panic which would ensue when it was found that recourse would be had to arms, and he was not deceived in his reckoning. The first discharge produced boundless fear and confusion, which were still further increased by the gathering darkness. None had sufficient calm and self-possession to note what had really happened. A wild tumult arose, but there was no attempt at the resistance which had been expected and feared. For one brief moment the masses swayed to and fro without plan or method, then all turned to seek refuge in flight. The Colonel had foreseen this, and had taken his precautions that a way should be opened for the fugitives to escape. A detachment of soldiers succeeded, without any very serious difficulty, in dispersing the dense crowds, and driving them back. Once broken up, they could not re-assemble, as all the central points of the town were occupied by the troops. After some hours, order was restored, and, thanks to the prudence and moderation of the commanding officer, this happy result was attained without bloodshed. Wounds and injuries enough had been inflicted in the press and crush of that hurried flight, but there had been no actual battle, and yet the military intervention had produced the desired effect. The more turbulent party in the town was intimidated; there was no repetition of the riots, and during the ensuing days the public peace had not been disturbed. Authority had once more triumphed, and the Governor still preserved the upper hand.
On the morning following his interview with Rudolph Brunnow, the Baron paid a visit to his sister-in-law's apartments. Madame von Harder's cold had been attended with serious consequences. She was ill, or, at least, declared herself to be so, and since her return to town had hardly left her bed. The Baron sent over regularly every morning to inquire after her health. He had seen neither her nor Gabrielle during the last few days, for the young girl had taken advantage of the pretext afforded her by her mother's illness, and had refrained from appearing at table. Since that sad, stormy interview, a meeting had thus been avoided.
The Baroness was lying on the sofa in the pose of a languid invalid, when her brother-in-law entered. He took no notice of Gabrielle, who was in the room, but went straight up to her mother, and asked, in the cold indifferent tone of one who is using a mere formula, how she felt that morning.