The relations between mother and son became in this way more and more hostile, the situation more untenable, though the same outward forms of cool politeness were preserved. That first explanation between them had been the only one. They were neither of them given to many useless words, and both felt that there could be no question of reconciliation or agreement where character and principles were so thoroughly opposed as was here the case. Waldemar never attempted to call his mother to account; he knew she would admit nothing of the manœuvres which yet incontestably proceeded from her, and she on her side proffered no question relating to these matters. Life under the same roof was therefore possible, and, viewed from without, even tolerable. Its stings and mortifications were known but to the two concerned. Waldemar wrapped himself in a still more impenetrable reserve. He saw his mother only at table, and often not even there. The Princess, too, would frequently absent herself, going over to Rakowicz to see her niece, and staying away a considerable time. Wanda had kept her word. She had not again set foot in Wilicza, whilst Waldemar in his expeditions avoided even the part of the country in which her father's property lay.
More than three months had elapsed since Count Morynski and his nephew had left. It was generally known that they were in the thick of the strife, that the Count was playing an important part in the insurrection, and that young Prince Baratowski had been appointed to a command under his uncle. In spite of distance and difficulties, they were both in uninterrupted communication with their friends. The Princess, and Wanda also, received exact and detailed accounts of all that happened beyond the frontier, and constantly despatched messages to the scene of action themselves. The readiness with which every one in those border-districts undertook the office of messenger, laughed all obstacles to scorn.
It was about noon on a rather cold day when Assessor Hubert and Dr. Fabian walked back together from the village where they had met. The Assessor was fairly swaddled in wraps. He knew by his Janowo experience the unpleasant consequences of catching cold. The Doctor, too, had put up the collar of his cloak as a protection against the wintry weather. The severe climate did not appear to suit him. He looked paler than usual, and seemed worn and fatigued. Hubert, on the other hand, was beaming with cheerfulness and satisfaction. The events now happening on the frontier took him very often to Wilicza, or its neighbourhood. On this occasion he was about to conduct an inquiry which would detain him several days in these parts; as usual he had taken up his quarters at the steward's house, and his radiant air of contentment showed that he found them to his liking.
"It is splendid, sir," he was saying in his solemn official tones; "I tell you, Herr Nordeck's present conduct is splendid. We Government men best know how to appreciate it. The President is of opinion that this cursed Wilicza would long ago have set the example of revolt here, if its master had not stood like a wall and a rampart, holding it back. He has the admiration of all L----, the more so that no one ever expected he would one day show himself in these colours."
Dr. Fabian sighed. "I wished he deserved your admiration somewhat less. It is precisely the energy he shows which draws down more hatred on him day by day. I tremble each time Waldemar rides out alone, and there is no persuading him to take even the simplest precautions."
"True," said the Assessor, gravely. "The people here at Wilicza are capable of anything, even of lying in ambush to get a shot at their enemy unawares. I believe the only thing which has protected Herr Nordeck hitherto has been the fact that, in spite of everything, he is the Princess Baratowska's son; but who knows how long, with their national fanaticism, they will respect even such a consideration as that! What a life it must be for you all up at the Castle! No one can make out why the Princess remains. It is well known that she is heart and soul with the Polish cause. There must have been some terrible scenes between her and her son, eh?"
"Excuse me, Herr Assessor, these are family affairs," replied Fabian, evading the question.
"I understand your discretion," said Hubert, who was burning with curiosity to learn something that he could relate on his return to L----, where people busied themselves now more than ever with the owner of Wilicza and his mother; "but you have no idea what terrible stories are going the round of the town. They say that, at that time when Herr Nordeck declared himself so decidedly for us, he had come upon and dispersed a meeting of conspirators, who held their conferences in the underground vaults of his Castle under the presidency of Count Morynski and the young Prince Baratowski. When the Princess would have interfered, her son, they say, placed a pistol at her breast; she flung her curse at him, and then they both ..."
"How can people in L---- believe such nonsense!" cried the Doctor, indignantly. "I give you my word that no such outrageous scene has ever taken place between Waldemar and his mother--it would be contrary to their natures; no, far from that, they are on very--very polite terms."
"Really?" asked the Assessor, incredulously. He was evidently reluctant to give up the tale of the pistol and the curse--it suited his romantic fancy far better than this tame explanation. "But the conspiracy did exist," he added, "and Herr Nordeck did put the traitors to flight--he alone against two hundred! Ah, if I had only been there! I was over at Janowo, where I unfortunately failed to make any discovery. Fräulein Margaret is generally so clever, I cannot think how she could have been so mistaken--for we know now that the secret stores of arms were hidden at Wilicza, though Herr Nordeck can never be brought to admit it."