Kitabı oku: «Clear the Track! A Story of To-day», sayfa 17

"And twelve years ago you wrote me that you wanted to go as missionary into the interior of Africa, and from that time your letters ceased. Immediately afterwards you must have returned to Germany–without letting me know?"

"It was done only for thy–for your sake, Leonie," Engelbert assured her, with an attempt to give a tender intonation to his voice. "We were both poor, I had no prospects, years might elapse ere I should be in a situation to offer you my hand. Should I allow you to waste your youth, mourning over me, and perhaps forfeiting a different and a happier fate? Never! And since I knew your magnanimity, knew that you would never have broken your word to me, with a bleeding heart I did what I had to–I restored your freedom to you through my supposed death–"

"Give yourself no trouble. I am not to be deceived again," replied she, contemptuously. "Pray remember, Herr Willmann, that all is at an end between us, and we have nothing more to say. I only ask one thing of you: if accidentally our paths should ever cross again, pass me as a stranger and never show by any sign that we were ever friends."

Engelbert secretly breathed more freely at this declaration, for he had not hoped to be let off so easily, and now prepared to depart in a very dignified manner. "You condemn me–well, I must bear it!" said he softly, and in an aggrieved tone. "Farewell, Leonie, appearances are against me, but for all that you have been my first and only love!"

He cast a wofully sentimental glance upon his former lady-love, and then beat a hasty retreat. But outside fate overtook him in the person of Dr. Hagenbach, who unceremoniously grabbed him by the arm. "Now we shall have a few words together, Herr Engelbert Willmann," said he, dragging the terrified creature regardlessly to the other end of the passage, where one was out of ear-shot of the guest-chamber. "I shall certainly not have much to do with you, but this one thing I must tell you, that you are a rascal!"

Once more he gave the annihilated Willmann another good shaking, then left him standing and returned to the room, where he was confident his medical services would be in requisition.

"I wanted to see how you were," said the doctor, with a certain embarrassment. "I was afraid–yes, my dear young lady, I admit that to-day, for once, you have a right to be nervous.–You need not dread ever being ridiculed. Mind!"

"I am quite well," protested Leonie, without raising her eyes. "I have gone through a very painful experience in having my illusions dispelled. You may easily guess, Doctor, how the story runs–spare me the shame of repeating it in detail."

"You have nothing to be ashamed of!" cried Hagenbach, with warm feeling. "There is no shame in putting firm, inviolable faith in the goodness and nobility of a man's nature. And if one has deceived you, you need not therefore lose faith in everybody. There is many a one among us who deserves to be trusted."

"I know it," replied Leonie, softly, extending her hand to him, "and I shall not waste time crying over a recollection that is not worth having tears shed over it. Let it be buried!"

"Bravo!" cried the doctor, grasping her proffered hand, as though about to shake it. But suddenly he bethought himself, and paused. The "rough diamond" must have really been well on the way towards being polished, for an unheard-of thing happened–Dr. Hagenbach stooped down and imprinted upon that hand an extremely tender kiss.

CHAPTER XX.
MAIA MUST BE SAVED

The gentlemen's room at the "Golden Lamb" was almost entirely empty, as was commonly the case in the early afternoon hours. The visitors were not accustomed to come in until towards evening. At present only a single guest was there, namely, Landsfeld, who had come to consult with the host concerning a mass-meeting that was to take place in the course of the next few days. Herr Willmann did not happen to be at home, and Landsfeld, who wanted to have the matter settled, had taken possession of the gentlemen's room, without further ceremony, where he had already been waiting for a quarter of an hour. He had no idea that Herr Willmann had already got home and knew of his being there, but preferred making a servile bow to the Odensburg family ere he gave as respectful a greeting to the leader of the Socialists. Already he began to grow impatient, when finally the door opened. But instead of the party expected Egbert Runeck came in.

The young delegate, who had gone to Berlin for a few days immediately after his election to consult with the leaders of his party, gave a strikingly cold and short salutation to his comrade, who, on his side, acknowledged it only by a slight nod.

"Back already from Berlin?" asked Landsfeld.

"I got here about an hour ago," answered Runeck. "I went straight to your house and heard there that I would be sure to find you at the 'Golden Lamb.'"

"To my house? That is a rare honor! I want to secure the hall for the day after to-morrow, since there turns out to be a necessity for a second mass meeting. As for the rest, we did not expect you back. Are you through with your business already?"

"Yes, for the time being only some preliminaries were to be settled. My permanent presence in Berlin will not be required for four weeks yet, when the sessions of the Reichstag begin, and so it seems to me I am more needed here just now than there."

"You are mistaken," declared Landsfeld. "We need you here no longer, now that your election has been carried. But I thought to myself that you would return as speedily as possible, when you heard that trouble was brewing for your beloved Odensburg. Yes, we have beaten it into the old man's brain at last that he is not infallible. Until now he was so inaccessible that nothing could come nigh him; now that he has to wrestle with us like the rest of his colleagues, it may go hard enough with him!"

"I rather think you have no occasion to triumph," said Egbert gloomily. "Dernburg has responded to your challenge by a wholesale discharge."

"Of course! That was to be expected of the obstinate old man, and we were perfectly prepared for it."

"Or rather, you have planned for it. And what now?"

"Well, it means bend or break. Either the old man withdraws his discharge of the workmen, or all his enterprises come to a standstill."

"Dernburg is not going to bend, that you all know, and to break him you have not the power. But he has it, and will use it unsparingly now that he has been goaded so far. He can hold out if his works lie idle for weeks and months–but not you. The strike is perfectly senseless, and the leaders of our party do not wish it–never have wished it. Now the decision against it has been definitely made."

"Ah, indeed! I know you did your very best to persuade them to come to this decision. Now, didn't you?" asked Landsfeld with a piercing glance. "You are one of the leaders yourself now! The youngest and most masterful of all. You seem to have got the whip-hand of the others already."

Runeck made an unequivocal sign of impatience.

"Have you only personal attacks against me, where the question concerns a party measure? I bring you the positive direction, not to proceed to extremities–conform to it."

"I am sorry, it is too late; the direction should have come earlier," answered Landsfeld coldly. "The offer has been made, and in case of its non-acceptance the strike is announced. The people cannot retract–they will see it so in Berlin also."

"Ah, ah, you show your true colors at last," cried Egbert in embittered tone. "You, who have always had the word discipline in your mouth, have followed your own head entirely!"

"Acted upon my own responsibility, yes! Those narrow-minded cowards, those Odensburgers, must at last be thoroughly aroused from their dream of security. What trouble we have had in getting them to elect you, under what high pressure did we have to work, and all was left in doubt, up to the last minute! Now the dull mass is at last in motion; now it is of moment to urge them forward!"

"And whither? To certain defeat! They have followed you to the polls, and even now they go with you blindly–the intoxication of victory has mounted to their heads! You have not preached to them in vain that they were almighty. But the intoxication will pass away. Just let the people come to their senses for once, and perceive what they lose when they turn their backs upon Odensburg, and what sorrows they thereby entail upon their wives and children–I tell you, you will not be able to hold them together for eight days; they will run back to Dernburg as fast as their legs can carry them. But he will be a different man from what he has been heretofore; he will not and cannot pardon the insult that they have inflicted upon him."

The young engineer had long since lost the cool calmness with which he had opened the interview, and had worked himself up into continually greater excitement. Landsfeld quietly kept his seat and looked at him fixedly: an evil smile played about his lips, as he replied:

"You seem to find this quite in order. On what side do you really stand, may I ask?"

"On the side of reason and of right!" exclaimed Runeck passionately. "That the workmen elected me in opposition to Dernburg was their right, and he would not contest that, either, deeply as it might mortify him. But that they celebrated my victory in his works, that they had processions and rejoiced over his defeat, almost under his windows, that is a bold challenge, and he has given them, in reply, the answer they deserved!"

"Ah, indeed? They deserved it, did they?" repeated Landsfeld, in a tone that should have warned his young comrade; but he paid no heed to it and continued with gathering warmth:

"You had the people stirred up through Fallner, I know this; you goaded them into making that senseless demand, which is equivalent to inflicting incredible humiliation upon their chief. Is it that you so entirely mistake the man with whom you have to deal, or would you have war to the knife? Well, you shall have it! Dernburg has shown himself the protector of the workman long enough, now he will reveal himself as the master, and he does right in this–I would not act differently in his place!"

A loud, bitter laugh from Landsfeld brought Egbert to a stop, for he had uttered those last words inconsiderately, stung into revolt.

"Bravo! Oh, that is an inestimable confession! There at last you show your true face! It was the old man of Odensburg to the life–you are a worthy pupil of your master's school. What think you if I report the sentiment just heard from you in Berlin?"

Runeck could hardly fail to be aware that he had allowed himself to go too far, but he only straightened himself up more defiantly.

"What care I? Do you suppose that I allow myself to be such a slave, that I dare not express my opinions freely, when we are among ourselves?"

"Among ourselves! Do you actually do us the honor to account yourself one of us? It is true you are our delegate! I have warned and counseled enough, for I knew long ago how far we would probably get with you. They would not listen to me, would secure that genial power to our party, and therefore the election must be pushed with all the means at our command. It was the hardest to manage of any in the electorial campaign–and for whom? The eyes of the others will soon be opened too."

"If you want to help them in this, then do so!" said Egbert harshly and proudly. But now Landsfeld jumped up and planted himself close in front of him.

"Perhaps you would be quite agreed to this. You are regularly planning, I believe, to lead up to a breach. Give yourself no trouble, young man: we will not do you that favor, we will not release you. If you choose to turn traitor and runagate, then let the whole disgrace of it fall upon you!"

A bitter expression curled Runeck's lips at these scornful words.

"Traitor! This, then, is what I get for giving myself up to you, body and soul, for sacrificing to you a future grander and more brilliant than falls to the lot of one in a thousand."

"And now you are on the stool of repentance, naturally?" remarked Landsfeld slyly.

"The sacrifice–no! But association with you–yes, I have long ago repented of that."

"You are candid, anyhow," mocked Landsfeld, "and recklessly show us what a rod we have pickled for ourselves in your election. Yet there is no help for that now, and, for the present, you will be obliged to do your duty in the Reichstag. Fortunately your earlier speeches are in the mouths of every one. You could slap yourself in the face; you would now whistle to quite another tune, if you could. And once more, young man,"–he suddenly dropped the mocking tone and his voice became low and threatening,–"make no attempt to meddle in Odensburg affairs, which I have now taken in hand myself. I shall know how to answer for my conduct to the party–only see to it that you cope with your own responsibility. It is not going to be spared you, depend upon that!" So saying, he turned his back upon his comrade, and left the room without any greeting.

Egbert was left alone; silently and moodily he brooded, with downcast eyes. He could not hinder the continual recurrence to his mind of the last words that Dernburg had spoken to him ere dismissing him: "You might have been lord of Odensburg. See whether your associates will thank you for the immense sacrifice that you have made to them!" He had just received a token of their gratitude.

Then the door was softly opened, only half-way, however, and a lovely young girl's head appeared in the aperture. Timidly and with curiosity she peeped in. It was Maia, who, in the course of her tour of discovery in the "Golden Lamb," had finally reached the gentlemen's room. She had hardly cast in a glance, however, before an exclamation of joyful surprise escaped her lips.

"Egbert!"

He started from his reverie, looked at her for a moment in stolid amazement, and then sprang to his feet. "Maia–you here?"

Maia quickly glided into the room, drawing the door to behind her. Fräulein Friedberg and Dr. Hagenbach should know nothing of this meeting, else they would not allow her to have anything to say to Egbert–he was tabooed now at Odensburg!

Runeck, too, seemed suddenly to remember their altered relations; slowly he let the hand drop that he had stretched forth in greeting, and drew back a step.

"May we exchange greetings as we used to do?" asked he softly.

A shadow crossed Maia's face, just an instant before so radiant, but she unhesitatingly drew nearer and offered her hand to the friend of her childhood. "Alas, Egbert, that it had to come so far! If you only knew how it looks now at our house."

"I do know!" was his short and gloomy answer.

"Our Odensburg is no longer to be recognized," lamented the young girl. "Formerly, if we went through the works or had anything to say to the workmen, how joyfully we would be greeted by all; and if, moreover, papa showed himself, then all eyes were fastened upon him, and every one was proud of being spoken to by him. Now"–a subdued sob was perceptible in her voice–"now papa has forbidden Cecilia and me to leave the circuit of the park, since we are not secure against insults outside. He himself goes every day to the works, but I see on the faces of our officers that they regard it as a risk, that they fear he is in danger among his own workmen. But what more than all eats into his heart, is what happened on election-day–he did not deserve it at their hands."

She did not suspect the effect of those words upon the man, who stood half-turned away from her. Not a sound crossed his lips, but his countenance expressed tortures that were with difficulty concealed. Maia saw this and laid her hand on his arm, with the old cordiality.

"I know it," said she soothingly. "But I am the only one at Odensburg who still cleaves to you, and I hardly dare to show it. Papa is dreadfully provoked and bitter against you, and Os–I mean Baron von Wildenrod–confirms him in this. So my begging does no good whatever, and now, besides, Cecilia–"

"She too?" interrupted Runeck, turning suddenly around. "Does she condemn me too?"

"I am not sure," said Maia, frightened at the strange look which Egbert cast upon her. "But Cecilia will never listen when I talk about you, and fairly takes to flight. Ah, Egbert, if any one else stood in opposition to my father, I believe he would stand it better. That it should be you is what he cannot bear."

"Neither can I!" answered Egbert gloomily. "Tell your father so, Maia, if you choose."

The young girl mournfully shook her head. "I cannot–your name is no more to be mentioned in his presence. If it happens, by any chance, it makes him furiously angry. And he did love you so! Dear me, why do people have to hate one another so desperately, just because they belong to two different political parties? I really do not understand it."

Maia's sweet girlish voice sounded soft and pleading, but nevertheless each of her words pierced Egbert's soul, like a glowing reproach. He could stand it no longer.

"Let that be, Maia," said he, controlling his emotion by a great effort. "He must accept it as a stroke of destiny, that we all find it hard to bear. And you, poor child! have we drawn you into the net, too, and destroyed the sunny cheerfulness of your spirits?"

The face of the young girl suddenly flushed up, her head drooped, and softly, almost shyly, she answered:

"No, no–I am often enough ashamed that, in spite of all this, I am so excessively happy; and yet I cannot help it. Do not look at me in such surprise, Egbert. Strangers, to be sure, are not to know it yet, because we are still wearing mourning for our poor Eric, but I can tell you already that I–well, that I am a betrothed bride."

Egbert started back in astonishment. Hitherto he had always considered Maia in the light of a child. It had not occurred to him that love could have already come to her. Now the unexpected news called a fleeting smile to his gloomy countenance, and full of cordiality he stretched out his hands to his youthful playmate. "Does our little Maia actually have to do with such things?" asked he with an attempt at playfulness.

"But I am not so little any more," protested Maia, with a charming pout, while she stood on tip-toe and looked him roguishly in the eye. "See, I already reach up to your shoulders, and his too."

"His? Why, I have not even asked after the name of your intended. What is it?"

"Oscar," whispered Maia softly.

"What did you say?" said Egbert in shocked surprise.

"Oscar von Wildenrod! You know him, yes–dear me, Egbert, what is the matter?"

Runeck had turned pale, and his right hand clinched involuntarily with a look that was full of commiseration. He fixed his eyes upon the young girl, who returned his gaze with a troubled anxious air.

"Baron von Wildenrod is your betrothed?" repeated he at last. "And has your father consented?"

"Certainly. He was opposed to it in the beginning, on account of the great difference of age, but Oscar besieged him so long, and I, too, begged and besought him so hard to let us be happy, that at last he gave his consent."

Egbert was thunderstruck, and gazed upon the lovely young creature who so heedlessly spoke of her happiness, where misery in reality impended. For the second time fate had imposed upon him the task of inflicting a deadly blow upon a being who was dear to him, and crushing her supposed happiness with a ruthless hand. This had been spared Eric in his dying hour; he could be silent when he learned to know Cecilia as she really was; here he had no choice and could not keep silence.

"And you do not rejoice with me?" asked Maia, in a mortified and reproachful tone, as he still said nothing. "Oh, I remember you had something against Oscar, and he has a great deal against you. I have known this a long while, although neither of you will own it. But you can surely congratulate me, any way.–I am indescribably happy."

Runeck ground his teeth together. He could not wish her joy, even as a mere matter of ceremony, which under these circumstances would have been the bitterest mockery, and yet he felt that he dared not now and in this place keep his secret. Fortunately accident came to his assistance, for out in the passage became audible the voice of Dr. Hagenbach.

"Have you seen Fräulein Dernburg anywhere? We must hurry to the station,–the train will be here in ten minutes."

"I must!" whispered Maia, pricking up her ears. "Farewell, Egbert. I shall always hold you dear, whatever happens. And you cannot forget, either, that Odensburg was so long your home."

Once more the brown eyes were uplifted to him in fervent deprecation, and then the young girl glided quickly away. Runeck breathed a sigh of relief that he had no longer to withstand the battery of those happy, unsuspecting eyes, but, at the same time, great waves of rebellion came rolling over his tortured soul.

This, then, had been Wildenrod's aim. He had set his covetous eye upon Odensburg, and would never rest until the booty was his, and Maia's hand was to lay it within his grasp. And Cecilia knew this, and did not interfere. Indeed, he was her brother, whom she loved in spite of everything–it was only to save him that she had become Eric's wife. And she did not know the truth. Oh, why had he concealed it from her that time? But now her feelings were no longer to be considered, either–the thing was to rescue Maia: now, to be silent any longer were a crime.

"No, I shall not forget that Odensburg was, for so long a time, my home," murmured Egbert, drawing himself up resolutely, "if I do have to prove it in a different way from what you expect, my poor little Maia. Shall I write to Dernburg? Impossible. I am wholly out of favor with him–he believes the worst of me; he would deem the letter a wretched calumny, and Wildenrod would win his game nevertheless. There is no help for it, I must fight the battle face to face, and not give up either, until it is decided, until Maia is released from this bond. Be it so, then–I am going to Odensburg."