Vineta, the Phantom City

by E. Werner

She was about leaving the room to make preparations for departure, when her glance fell upon Wanda, who stood gazing at her, motionless and speechless, but with such a look of determination in her face that the princess paused, and said,--

"I would like to impress one thing upon you before I go: If I do not warn Waldemar, no one else should dare warn him; it would be treason to our cause. Why do you shudder at that word? What would you call it if any one of our party revealed our secrets by a spoken or a written word to the master of Villica? It would thwart our plans and cost us the loss of the forester's place. Wanda, the Morynskis have never had cause to regret taking the women of their house into their confidence--a traitoress has never been found among them."

"Aunt Maryna!" cried Wanda in such a tone of horror that the princess withdrew the hand she had laid heavily on her niece's arm.

"I only wished you to know what is at stake here," she said. "You do not want to be ashamed to look your father in the face when he returns; as to the manner in which you will settle with Leo for the mortal terror concerning his brother which now tortures you, that is your affair, not mine. If I had known that this blow threatened Leo, I should have opposed his fatal love for you instead of fostering it. Now it is too late for him and for you. This present hour has proved to me--"

The sentence was cut short by Paul's announcement that the carriage was at the door. At parting, Wanda silently placed her ice-cold hand in her aunt's, and the latter seemed content with the unspoken promise.

Wanda fled to her own room: she was finally alone with herself, alone with her apprehension of danger to Waldemar, of which his mother had no fear. Love alone could foreshadow such peril, and the princess did not love her eldest son. If she had known that Waldemar's life was in danger, she would not have uttered a word to save him, for this word might have jeopardized the interests of her party.

Wanda seated herself at her writing-desk. A brief warning, a few written lines, sent to Villica, might save Waldemar; he need not know whence they came. If he went to the forester's place, he would go accompanied by others, and no one would venture to attack him. He would, thus sustained, easily enforce obedience; he could have the forester arrested, and the forest-house guarded by soldiers. Then Waldemar would have peace.

But what would be the result to her own party? This forester's place was now used for the same purpose which Villica Castle had so long served; a portion of the weapons which had been removed from Villica were concealed there, it was the focus of the insurrection, the point whence all messengers went and to which they came. It was of the utmost importance that the present forester should remain, as firm reliance could be placed upon his loyalty and his silence. His removal would be the loss of this central point of operations; he knew that fact as well as his mistress, and he resolved to remain at all hazards.

Nordeck himself came but seldom to this remote house in the forest; his idea in going there now was to enforce obedience by his personal authority. He had often been called to such duties of late, and he probably did not regard the present affair as one of any great importance. If his authority should meet with opposition at the forester's place, if he should discover that a systematic resistance had been organized against him, he would act with his wonted energy, and deprive his mother of her last foothold. Discovery could no longer be prevented if he were told that danger threatened him from that quarter.

All this was terribly clear to Wanda's mind, and Waldemar's danger was just as clearly revealed to her. She was firmly convinced that the ball which had recently imperilled his life had come from the forester's rifle; that the man whose bitter hatred had culminated in an attempt at assassination, would not hesitate to slay his master should opportunity offer. Knowing this, must she allow Waldemar to rush unwarned perhaps into the very jaws of death? But before that terrible word Treason her resolution faltered; hitherto she had been her father's confidant, he relied implicitly upon his daughter, and would have scorned the thought that she could divulge a word of the secrets he had committed to her, in order to rescue an enemy. She herself had treated Leo with contempt when in a fit of jealousy he had hesitated to do his duty. The same duty that had forced him from her side to deadly conflict, now bade her do the most difficult of all things: remain silent and inactive, a witness of an impending danger she could avert with a single stroke of the pen--a single word from her lips.