Kitabı oku: «Vineta, the Phantom City», sayfa 16

CHAPTER XXII.
THE NEW UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR

The forester's death prevented any concealment of the tragedy at the border-house, and all Villica was in commotion. Nothing could have been more unwelcome to the princess than this open and bloody conflict. Doctor Fabian and the superintendent were horror-stricken, while the tenants were divided into two parties, and discussed the affair with angry vehemence. One person only was elated at this melancholy event, and that person was Assessor Hubert. As he chanced to be stopping at the superintendent's, he seized his opportunity, and went at once to the castle in his official capacity, forcing Herr Nordeck into a personal interview, a consummation he had long devoutly wished.

Waldemar told him, very briefly, that he had shot the forester in self-defence, and declared himself ready to proceed at once to L–, to undergo an examination by the civil authorities; meanwhile Hubert could obtain all the information in his power.

The representative of the police department of L– was right in his element, and set about his duties with a very consequential air; but he was doomed to disappointment; the witnesses he had hoped to seize and bear in triumph to L– had eluded his grasp; the men concerned in the affray had seen fit to escape all judicial investigation by flight beyond the border where they had long desired to be. They had escaped by night, and had already joined the insurgent army. Hubert was inconsolable.

"They have gone!" he said, despairingly, to the superintendent. "Not a single one of them remains behind."

"I could have told you that before," rejoined Herr Frank; "it was the wisest thing they could do. Over there they are secure from indictment as accomplices."

"But I wanted to arrest them–I wanted to bring them all to justice."

"And I am glad they are out of the way; they are a wild, dangerous set, and we are well rid of them. Herr Nordeck does not want a great ado made about it."

"It is none of Herr Nordeck's business," said Hubert, in his most pompous, official tone; "he must submit to the majesty of the law, which demands the most thorough and searching investigation. Of course he will not be compromised; he fired in self-defence, after the forester had aimed at him. He will only have to submit to an examination which will end in an honorable acquittal; but there is something else involved: we are dealing with a conspiracy, with an insurrection–"

"For heaven's sake, are you on that track again?"

"Yes, an insurrection!" repeated Hubert, with unshaken equanimity; "all the facts go to prove it."

"Nonsense!" ejaculated the superintendent; "it was a revolt against the landlord personally–nothing more. The forester and his men were accustomed to acts of violence, and the princess allowed them great liberty because they implicitly obeyed her commands. They would learn obedience to no other, and when their master sought to teach it to them, they rebelled. Any other man would have been killed, but his energy and presence of mind saved him. He shot down the would-be assassin without ceremony, and this paralyzed the others. The affair is as clear and simple as possible, and I do not comprehend how you can see a conspiracy in it."

"And how do you explain the presence of the Countess Morynski?" asked Hubert, triumphantly, as if he had just proved an accused person guilty of some heinous crime. "What business had she at the forester's place? We all know the part she and the princess take in the Polish movement. The women of that nation are very dangerous; they know everything, they are capable of everything, most of the political intrigues are in their hands, and the Countess Morynski is her father's own daughter, the apt pupil of her aunt. Her presence at the forest-house proves the existence of a conspiracy as clear as noonday. She hates her cousin with all the fanaticism of her nation, and she must have planned that murderous attack. That is why she suddenly appeared in the midst of the tumult, why she endeavored to disarm Herr Nordeck when he levelled his revolver at Osiecki, why she urged on the forester and his men to assassination. Waldemar Nordeck is a remarkable man; he not only put down the revolt, but he secured its instigator and carried her forcibly to Villica; in spite of all resistance, he tore his treacherous cousin from the midst of her followers, placed her in his sleigh, and dashed away with her as if life or death were at stake. Just think of it! during the whole journey he did not vouchsafe her one solitary word; he held her firmly by the hand so as to frustrate any attempt at flight. I have all this from a reliable source. I have questioned the coachman very minutely–"

"You had him on the rack for three hours, until the poor man became confused and said 'yes' to everything," interposed the superintendent, dryly. "He really knows very little about the matter; he only told what you put into his mouth. Herr Nordeck's story alone is reliable."

The assessor was deeply offended, but ere he gave vent to his indignation, he bethought himself that the person who indulged in such censure was his prospective father-in-law and must be treated accordingly, even though he were wanting in proper respect to his own official wisdom and dignity. So he swallowed his indignation, and replied in his usual self-possessed tone,–

"Herr Nordeck conducts himself like a sovereign as usual. He made his report as laconic as possible, would enter into no details, and refused to allow me to question the Countess Morynski on the plea that she was ill. Then he went on giving orders and making arrangements as if I were not present, and as if no other person had a right to say a word upon a matter he would prefer to keep secret. 'Herr Nordeck,' said I to him, 'you greatly deceive yourself if you look upon this affair as a mere outbreak of personal hatred. I perceive that it has a deeper significance: it was a deliberately planned insurrection which broke out prematurely; it was not designed merely as an attack upon you, it was a plot against order, law, and government. We must sift the matter to the bottom.' What do you suppose he said in reply? These were his words:

"'Herr Assessor, you deceive yourself in regarding the violence of a brutal man against me personally as a conspiracy against the state. As the main actors have escaped, in the absence of other conspirators you will be obliged to fall back upon Doctor Fabian and me. For your own sake, I advise you to restrain your ardor. I have given you the necessary materials for your report to the police department of L–, and you need not feel concerned about law and order here in Villica, for I consider myself competent to maintain both.' He then made a cold, polite, and incredibly haughty bow, and left me standing there alone."

The superintendent laughed. "He is just like his mother. I know this manner in the Princess Zulieski, and I have often enough been enraged by it. It is a sort of superiority which awes you in spite of yourself, and which Prince Leo does not at all possess. Herr Nordeck was right, however, in advising you to restrain your ardor; it has often enough brought you into difficulty."

"That is my fate," said the assessor, in a resigned tone. "With the noblest motives, with self-sacrificing devotion to the state and untiring zeal for its welfare, I reap nothing but ingratitude, misrepresentation and neglect. I had finally grasped the clew to a conspiracy, but it slipped through my hands. Osiecki is killed, his men have fled, no evidence can be obtained from the Countess Morynski; I can make an ordinary report and nothing more. If I had only been at the forest-house yesterday! When I arrived there this morning, it was empty. Yes, it is my destiny always to arrive too late!"

The superintendent, thinking that this would be a favorable opportunity to introduce the subject of the assessor's suit, and to inform him distinctly that he must cherish no hopes of obtaining his daughter's hand, cleared his throat portentously; but at this moment the landlord's coachman appeared with a message from his master. This was the man who had driven Waldemar to the forest-house on the preceding day, and who had already been subjected to an exhaustive examination from the assessor. Hubert now lost sight of everything else, he forgot misrepresentation and neglect, and suddenly recollected that he had some very important questions to ask. Heedless of Frank's protestations, he took the coachman to his own room, with a view to prosecuting the examination with renewed ardor.

The superintendent shook his head; he began to incline to the opinion that there was something morbid in the assessor's nature, and to feel that his daughter was not so greatly at fault for rejecting a suitor whose frantic official zeal could no more be moderated than his fixed belief in a general insurrection.

Gretchen meantime was following the assessor's example by putting very pointed questions to Doctor Fabian, who sat near her in the parlor of the superintendent's house. The doctor could tell her nothing of recent events that she did not know already, and he was not at all informed upon the point which most excited her curiosity,–the part the Countess Wanda had played at the house of the border-forester. She placed small reliance upon Hubert's assertion that the young countess hated her cousin, and that she had planned the attack. With true womanly intuition, she imagined that the relations between these two were of an entirely different nature, and she was vexed and indignant because she could learn nothing further.

"You do not know how to use your influence, Doctor Fabian," she said, in a reproachful tone. "If I were the intimate friend of Waldemar Nordeck, I should be better informed in regard to his affairs."

The doctor smiled. "I hardly think you would," he said; "Waldemar has a reticent nature, he does not feel the need of confiding in any one."

"That is because he has no heart," said Gretchen, who was very hasty in her judgments. "One can see at a glance that he is heartless; a freezing atmosphere surrounds him, he chills me whenever he speaks to me. He has taught all Villica to fear him, and he is loved by none. In spite of his friendly regard for my father, he is as cold and distant to us now as he was upon the day of his arrival here. I am convinced that he has never loved a human being–and least of all a woman. He is perfectly heartless."

"My dear young lady, you do my friend great injustice. He has a heart, a warmer one than you think,–warmer perhaps than that fiery Prince Leo. He does not wear his heart upon his sleeve, however. I thought as you do about Waldemar Nordeck, until an accident which happened to me and nearly caused my death taught me to know him as he really is."

"Well, one thing is certain," said Gretchen, decidedly, "he possesses very little amiability, and I do not understand your great affection for him. Yesterday, you were almost beside yourself on his account, and something must have occurred to-day, for you are again excited and depressed. Does any danger still threaten Herr Nordeck?"

"No, no," replied the doctor; "my excitement concerns only myself. I received letters from J– this morning."

"Has that scientific and historic monster, that Professor Schwarz, again caused you vexation?" inquired the young lady, with a belligerent air, as if she were all ready to begin a contest with the aforesaid gentleman.

Fabian shook his head. "I fear," said he, "that it is I who now cause him the greatest vexation, although I do so sorely against my will. You are aware that it was my 'History of Ancient Germany' that first gave rise to that unfortunate strife between him and Professor Weber,–a strife that has grown more and more bitter, until it has resulted in estrangement. Professor Schwarz, who has a very impetuous nature, was exasperated at the popularity of my book, and resorted to personalities against his colleagues. Seeing that the whole university sided with his rival, he threatened to resign, but the threat was merely for effect, as he supposed that his services could not be dispensed with. His irascible nature, however, had made him so many enemies among the regents of the university, that no attempt was made to retain him, and his resignation was accepted. He is soon to leave."

"That is a lucky thing for the university," coolly remarked Gretchen; "but I really believe you censure yourself for it; it would be just like you."

"And this is not all," said Doctor Fabian, hesitatingly and half audibly; "there is a desire that I–that I should take his position. Professor Weber writes that I am to be offered the professorship–I, a mere private tutor, without academic experience, and whose sole merit lies in his book, the first he has ever published. This is an occurrence so unusual, so unprecedented, that at first I was taken completely by surprise."

Gretchen looked neither surprised nor confounded; she seemed to think this proceeding the most natural thing in the world. "They are very wise in offering you a professorship," she said; "you are a greater man than Professor Schwarz; your work stands far above his writings, and when you once occupy his chair, your renown will overshadow his."

"But, Fräulein Frank, you are acquainted neither with the professor nor with his works," protested the doctor, timidly.

"That does not matter; I am acquainted with you," said the young girl, in a manner that forbade all protest. "You will of course accept?"

"I hardly think I shall. Honorable as the position is, I scarcely dare accept it, for I fear I am not fitted for it. Years of seclusion and a solitary life with my books, have almost disqualified me for public life, and have totally unfitted me for the social requirements of such a station. But my main objection is that I do not wish to leave Waldemar now, when so many dangers and difficulties environ him. I am the only one whose absence he would regret; it would be the height of ingratitude if, for the sake of mere personal advantage, I should–"

"And it would be the height of selfishness in Herr Nordeck to accept the sacrifice of your whole future," interrupted Gretchen. "Fortunately, he will not do it; he will never oppose your entering upon a path which would insure your happiness and prosperity."

"My happiness," repeated Doctor Fabian, in a tone of deep dejection; "there you are in error. I have sought and I have found perfect satisfaction in my studies, and I considered it an especial favor of fortune when my pupil, who had once been so cold and distant toward me, became my warm, true friend. I have never known what is called real happiness,–a home, a family; I probably never shall. It would be presumption in me to dream of that higher bliss now that so great and unexpected a success has been granted me. I am content with my lot."

For all their resignation, these words had a very melancholy tone, and yet they did not seem to awaken much sympathy in the youthful listener. Her lips curled in scorn.

"You have a peculiar nature, Doctor Fabian," she said; "the prospect of a life of renunciation would fill me with despair."

The doctor smiled sadly. "It is very different with you," he said. "One who, like you, is young and charming and has grown up under easy and fortunate circumstances, has a right to expect happiness from life. That it may be yours in fullest measure is my most ardent wish. You will be happy, for Assessor Hubert loves you, and–"

"What has Assessor Hubert to do with my happiness?" broke out Gretchen. "You have hinted at such a thing once before; what do you mean?"

Fabian was greatly embarrassed. "I beg your pardon if I have been indiscreet," he stammered; "the words escaped me ere I was aware. I know that there has been no public betrothal, but my heartfelt interest in you must be my excuse, if I–"

"If you what?" cried the young lady, passionately, seeing that the doctor hesitated. "I really believe that you seriously consider me the betrothed of this silly, tiresome Hubert, who talks to me all day long of nothing but conspiracies and his future title of government counsellor."

"But, my dear young lady," said the doctor, in profound astonishment, "the assessor himself informed me, last autumn, that he had positive encouragement from you, and could with certainty reckon upon your consent."

Gretchen sprang from her seat so violently that the chair fell over. "Ah, he said that to you, did he! But you alone are to blame for it, Doctor Fabian. Do not look so terror-stricken. It was you who induced me to send him to Janowo, where he caught a severe cold. Fearing a serious illness, I nursed the assessor, and ever since that time he has had a fixed idea that I love him. He is one who never gets rid of his fixed ideas–we know that from his everlasting talk about conspiracies."

She almost cried from vexation, but the doctor's face lighted up at sight of her unfeigned indignation.

"Do you not love the assessor?" he asked, breathlessly. "Do you not intend to give him your hand?"

"I never dreamed of such a thing," replied Gretchen, very decidedly; and she was about to add some remarks not at all complimentary to poor Hubert, when her eyes met the doctor's ardent gaze. She blushed deeply, and was silent.

A long pause followed. Fabian had a hard struggle with his timid nature; several times he sought in vain to speak; but meanwhile his eyes spoke, and so plainly that Gretchen could not remain in doubt as to what was coming. She now felt no impulse to run away, or to break piano-strings, as at that moment when Hubert had been on the point of making a declaration. She resumed her seat, and awaited the inevitable.

After a while, the doctor approached her timidly and anxiously.

"My dear young lady," he began, "I really believed–that is–I supposed–the ardent affection of the assessor for you–"

He stopped, and bethought himself that it was very unwise to be speaking of the assessor's ardent affection when he ought to speak of his own. Gretchen saw that he was becoming hopelessly involved in his phrases, and that she must come to his rescue. It was only a glance she gave her bashful wooer, but it spoke as plainly as his own had spoken a few moments before. The doctor all at once took courage, and went on with incredible boldness:–

"That error has made me very unhappy," he began. "Still I would not have ventured to confess it to you, even so short a time ago as yesterday. Dependent as I was upon Waldemar's magnanimity, how could I give utterance to the dearest wish of my heart? A moment ago, Fräulein Margaret, you reproached me for possessing a too self-sacrificing nature; if you knew the life of renunciation I have led, you would take back the reproach. I have passed through life neglected and solitary from my childhood; I have pursued my studies only through the greatest self-denial, and they have yielded me nothing but dependence upon the whims and generosity of strangers. It is galling to a man, spurred on by high and noble purposes and possessed of a heart glowing with enthusiasm for science, to descend, day after day, to the intellect of a boy, and instruct him in the rudiments of learning. This was my lot until Waldemar made it possible for me to devote myself to study, and paved my way to the career which is now open before me. I had, in truth, resolved to sacrifice this career for his sake, and also to keep the fact of my call to it a secret. Then I looked upon you as the affianced bride of another, but now,"–he took her hand, all his embarrassment vanished, while words came thronging to his lips,–"but now that my future is so full of promise, it depends upon you whether it shall bring me happiness. Decide for me, Margaret; shall I accept or decline the position?"

He had reached the very place where the assessor had made his great dramatic pause preparatory to falling upon his knees, and where he had been checked by the precipitate departure of his adored. The doctor, however, made no attempt at kneeling; he spoke on without hesitation, while Margaret sat near him with downcast eyes, and listened with intense satisfaction. Formal proposal, acceptance, and betrothal kiss followed in quick succession, and Doctor Fabian's future was decided.

Assessor Hubert came down the stairs. He had subjected the coachman to a detailed and lengthy examination, until both were weary; he now proposed to rest from fatiguing official duties, and give free course to the emotions of his heart. Poor Hubert! As he had said, it was always his misfortune to arrive too late. He had as yet no suspicion of the way in which the words would be verified to-day. He was to leave this afternoon, and he had resolved to come to a positive understanding with Margaret before his departure. He was resolved to leave Villica as her accepted lover, and in the ardor of this resolution he opened the hall-door so boisterously, that the newly-betrothed couple found time to assume an unembarrassed attitude. As he entered the room, Margaret sat at a window, and the doctor stood near her in front of the piano, which to Hubert's relief was closed. Hubert greeted the doctor graciously, but condescendingly; he had always treated him in a patronizing manner, as a mere salaried tutor of no consequence whatever excepting as the chosen friend of the master of Villica. Now, as he had resolved to propose at once, he thought Fabian's presence a great intrusion, and took no pains to conceal that fact.

"I regret disturbing you," he said; "you are doubtless giving your pupil her French lesson."

He said this in a tone so supercilious, that even Doctor Fabian, so accustomed to being addressed by him as a hired teacher, was offended. Hitherto he had not resented Hubert's treatment, but to-day, his new dignity as Margaret's accepted lover would brook no slight or insult. Drawing himself up, he said with an emphasis that delighted Margaret,–

"You mistake; we are taking lessons in an entirely different science."

The assessor paid no heed to the words; he was wholly absorbed in devising some way to get rid of this tiresome, intrusive man.

"Are you giving lessons in history?" he asked, maliciously. "I believe that is your hobby; but unfortunately, it is not a science pleasing to young ladies. I fear you will weary Fräulein Frank with it, Doctor Fabian."

A reply was on the doctor's lips, but Gretchen anticipated him. Thinking it high time to silence the assessor, she undertook that duty with no small delight.

"You will soon have to address Doctor Fabian by another title," she said. "He is about to accept a professorship in the university of J–, which has been offered him on account of his great literary and scientific acquirements."

"Wh–a–t are you saying?" cried the assessor, with a start, and an expression of utter incredulity. He could not reconcile himself to this sudden transformation of the neglected Fabian into a university professor.

The doctor's amiable disposition had again won the mastery. His sympathetic nature was troubled at thought of the double wound he must necessarily inflict upon the nephew of his rival and the unsuccessful wooer of his betrothed.

"Herr Assessor," he began, believing that Hubert was acquainted with recent events at the university, which was by no means the case,–"I regret that your uncle has so misunderstood me. No one can be more sincere than myself in recognition of his great ability. Let me assure you that I have not taken the least part in the strife which my 'History of Ancient Germany' has provoked. Professor Schwarz seems to believe that I instigated the dispute and carried it to its present pitch from selfish motives."

A terrible light now began to dawn upon the assessor. He had not known the name of the obscure man whom the opposition had chosen for its champion, and whose first book had begun to be compared with, and even placed above his uncle's works; but he was aware that a "History of Ancient Germany" was the prime cause of the dispute, and Fabian's words left him in no doubt that the author of this book, this intriguer, this assailer of his family renown, stood before him. He was on the point of giving vent to his astonishment and indignation, when Gretchen, who felt called upon to assert her dignity as the future wife of the professor, interposed,–

"Yes," she said, "the professor may well believe this, since Doctor Fabian has an urgent call to replace him, and accept the chair of History at L–. You already know, I suppose, that your uncle has tendered his resignation?"

The assessor struggled so desperately for breath, that Fabian cast a look of entreaty upon his betrothed: but she remained inexorable. She could not forget that Hubert had boasted for months of her readiness to accept his suit, and she wanted to teach him a lesson. She therefore played her last card by formally grasping Doctor Fabian's hand and leading him up to the assessor with these words:–

"And furthermore, Herr Assessor, I have the pleasure of introducing to you in the person of Professor Fabian, the successor of your renowned uncle,–my future husband!"

"I believe the assessor is deranged," remarked Superintendent Frank to his overseer, as the two were standing in the yard. "He has just dashed out of the house like a lunatic, and rushed to his carriage without greeting me. He was in high spirits this morning. I fear this new chase after a conspiracy has turned his brain. Go and look after him, and see that no harm befalls him."

The overseer shrugged his shoulders, and pointed to Hubert's carriage, which was already in rapid motion. "It is too late," he said; "there the madman goes!"

Frank entered the house, and there learned the cause of the assessor's headlong flight, while the coachman, who stood gazing after the fugitive, said with a sigh of relief,–

"Thank Heaven, he has gone, and will quiz me no more!"