Vineta, the Phantom City

by E. Werner

"If my aunt has made me an unwilling instrument of her plans, you must settle with her and not with me," she said, in a low tone, and there was no sting in her words. "I suspected nothing, I was only a child following every momentary whim; but, now,"--she raised her head proudly,--"now I am responsible for my conduct, and I make confession to you of my own free will. You are right; the apology was not to Waldemar Nordeck. Since our meeting, after long years of absence, he has given me no cause to seek or to desire a reconciliation. I wanted to force the master of Villica to open his closed visor. That is no longer necessary. I have just learned from you what I had hitherto only suspected, that in you we have a bitter, merciless enemy, who will use his power at the decisive moment, even if he must tread underfoot all ties of family and of nature."

"And to whom should these ties bind me?" asked Waldemar, excitedly. "To my mother? You know our mutual relations, and that she is now less than ever inclined to forgive me for being the heir of the Nordeck wealth in place of her younger son. To Leo? Possibly there may be a feeling of brotherly love between us, but I do not believe it will survive when our ways cross--at least not on his side."

"Leo would gladly have met you as a brother if you had not made it impossible for him," returned Wanda. "You were always inaccessible even to him, but there have been moments when he might have approached you fraternally. He is too proud to seek to break through the icy reserve you maintain toward him and all around you. Any manifestation of affection from him or from your mother would be shattered against a hardness that cares nothing for them, or perhaps for any one in the wide world."

She stopped suddenly as her eyes met Waldemar's searching gaze. "Your judgment is correct, although merciless," he said, gravely. "Have you ever asked yourself what made me hard? There was a time when I was not so--at least not toward you,--when a word or a glance of yours ruled me, when I patiently submitted to your every whim. Wanda, you could then have made much, perhaps everything of me. You did not wish to do so. My handsome, chivalrous brother was your favorite. This was but natural, I cannot blame you. I was not at all suited to you then. But that was the turning-point of my existence, and a man like myself, who is resolved not to allow his life to be blighted by disappointment, will become hard and suspicious. I now consider it very fortunate that my youthful passion was spurned and derided. If it had been otherwise, my mother would have insisted upon our repeating the drama which was played here twenty-five years ago, when a Nordeck led home a young countess for his bride. You perhaps, with your sixteen years, might have yielded to the will of your family, and have married a fortune, while I should have shared my father's fate. We have both escaped such a calamity, and that foolish past is now buried and forgotten. I only wished to remind you that you have no right to upbraid me with hardness, or to complain when this hardness is manifested toward you and yours. Shall I now accompany you to the rendezvous?"

Wanda complied in silence. Although she had at first been irritated and combative, the turn taken by the conversation had finally wrested the weapons from her hands. To-day they again parted as enemies, but both felt that from this hour the conflict between them was of another character, although perhaps none the less bitter.

The whole landscape was wrapped in twilight shadows that grew deeper every moment, and misty vapors rose from field and forest. White clouds, a now shapeless, dissolving mass, still hovered over the lake. The vision that had risen above the waters had sunk beneath their depths, but it would never be forgotten by this strong, earnest, reticent man and this dreamy young girl, who walked so silently side by side.

Here in the desolate autumnal forest, at the ghostly twilight hour, the breath of that old ocean fable of the distant North again floated around them, and whispered anew its ancient prophecy:--"Whoever has once seen Vineta and listened to the chiming of its bells, must be consumed by regret and longing until the fairy vision again appears to bring him peace, or until the old phantom-city draws him downward into its ocean depths."

CHAPTER XV.

[THE "HISTORY OF ANCIENT GERMANY."]

The two rooms in the castle assigned to Doctor Fabian faced the park. The princess, while having the suit of rooms which had been occupied by her first husband put in readiness for his son, had set apart an adjoining one for his tutor, which, although small and noisy from its nearness to the main stairway, was supposed to be ample for a dependant who had been obliged to put up with all sorts of discomforts at Altenhof, and was not likely to be either fastidious or exacting. This arrangement did not suit Waldemar; immediately upon his arrival he ordered that two of the guest-chambers on the other side of the castle should be assigned to Doctor Fabian. These happened to be the apartments occupied by Count Morynski and his daughter on their frequent visits to Villica; but Waldemar, who was not aware of the fact, chose these rooms as the best and most pleasant, and had the corridor leading past them closed up, so that Doctor Fabian might not be disturbed in his studies.