NEWS FROM BERLIN.
Whilst Egon, with Lieschen and Fritz, was taking his ride to the Oster
meadows, Herr von Osternau was pacing his room slowly to and fro.
From his window he had observed old Wenzel saddling Soliman, but he had
naturally supposed that Albrecht had ordered the horse, and it never
entered his mind that the fiery animal had been saddled for the
Candidate, or he would have instantly put a stop to it. He was not
aware of the true state of the case until the moment when Egon swung
himself lightly into the saddle, and then remonstrance was useless.
Involuntarily he had uttered an exclamation of dismay, which called
Frau von Osternau to his side, and together they had looked on while
Egon reduced Soliman to submission. Their horror was speedily
transformed to admiration as they saw how firm was the rider's seat,
how powerless were Soliman's leaps and plunges to do him any injury.
Not a word was exchanged between them until the riding-party had left
the court-yard, when Herr von Osternau first gave utterance to his
amazement:
"This surpasses belief. If I had not seen it with my own eyes I never
could have believed that a mere Candidate, who one would have supposed
had never been on horseback before, could ride Soliman, and ride him in
such a fashion! The man is a riddle. If we were not sure from your old
friend Kramser's letter that he is a Candidate, I should think it
impossible. He is compounded of contradictions, he is never the same
for a moment. When I saw him coming across the courtyard this morning I
was fairly frightened by his ugliness, I called him a scarecrow, and so
did Lieschen when she first saw him, he looked so inconceivably
ridiculous and uncouth, but ten minutes had not passed before I changed
my mind. As he sat there at the piano, playing in that inspired way, he
seemed to me a divinely-gifted artist. He cannot be a mere ordinary
Candidate. His carriage and air are those of one used to refined
society, and the conventional habits of such society are acquired only
by association. Remember his manner to Albrecht in the billiard-room.
He demanded satisfaction just as any well-bred gentleman would have
done, and received Albrecht's apology in the same way. He speaks
English and French with an accent so admirable that he must have had
the best instruction in those languages. It requires capital teachers
and years of practice to attain such proficiency as he possesses in
music, he plays billiards so well as almost to justify Albrecht's sneer
about the professional gambler, and, finally, he has just shown himself
a first-class horseman. No riding-master could have put Soliman more
finely through his paces. The man is a perfect puzzle."
Herr von Osternau had begun to pace the room to and fro as he spoke. He
paused and looked inquiringly at his wife. She nodded assent to what he
said, and he went on: "The more I think of it the more incomprehensible
it is to me that Kramser should have recommended to us just this sort
of man, one who in no single particular corresponds to the description
contained in Kramser's letter."
"I am quite as much puzzled as yourself," Frau von Osternau said,
meekly.
"Go and get Kramser's letter; let us read it once more, and see if it
can give us any explanation."
Frau von Osternau brought the letter from her desk and read it aloud to
her husband:
"Most Respected Lady,--It has been to me an exceeding great joy that,
after the lapse of so many years since the happy season of childhood,
you still remember me, and honour me with the great confidence shown in
your esteemed epistle. My heart swells with gratitude at the thought of
having it in my power to be of service in any way to so highly honoured
a lady.
"I have bestowed the gravest reflection upon the choice among my
numerous scholars of one possessing the qualifications which you desire
for the tutor of your amiable son.
"You ask for a young man possessing the education requisite to give
primary instruction to a boy of six, and sufficiently proficient in
music to be able to give lessons to your daughter of seventeen. You
require, finally, that the young man shall be in no wise distinguished
by beauty of person. Nay, you would on the contrary have him ungainly
in outward appearance, that the Fraeulein your daughter may find no
attraction in the person of her preceptor.
"I sympathize fully with your maternal anxieties, and I have therefore,
in this connection, carefully stricken from my list of pupils all those
possessing goodly exteriors; of those who remain, all are indeed
qualified as scholars to teach the rudiments of learning to a boy of
six, but few, alas! are sufficiently proficient in music to give
lessons on the piano to a lady. At last I have found one, formerly my
favourite pupil, whom I can recommend to you, respected madam, in full
confidence that he will prove a faithful servant to you, and a capable
tutor for your son.
"The Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch possesses in the highest degree all
the desired qualifications. He is of an ungainly exterior, but in his
uncouth form there dwells a soul of great piety, strong in faith in the
Lord. There are, indeed, deficiencies in his worldly attainments, but
he knows quite enough for the instruction of a boy of six, and his
musical capacity far excels that of any of my other pupils. He plays
very well upon the piano, and the Lord has bestowed upon him the gift
of song, his voice is clear and pleasing.
"Pigglewitch has been an usher in schools for three years, the last of
which he has passed in a boys' school in Berlin, where, as I am assured
by the principal, he has discharged his duties with diligence and zeal.
Of all my pupils he, respected madam, is the one whom I can most
earnestly recommend.
"I have written to Gottlieb Pigglewitch; he is only too glad to accept
the honourable position offered him, upon the terms you propose, but he
cannot enter upon its duties before the 6th of July, since he is not
released from his present situation until July 3d. Should this
arrangement meet your approval, respected madam, I beg you to write me
to that effect, and the Candidate Gottlieb Pigglewitch will appear at
Castle Osternau punctually upon the 6th of July.
"With grateful and respectful regard, yours to command,
"Kramser."
"Is there an imaginable contrast greater than that between your
friend's recommendation and the reality?" asked Herr von Osternau when
his wife had finished reading the letter. "His worldly knowledge ought
to be deficient, but sufficient for the instruction of a child of six,
yet he speaks French and English fluently. He ought to be awkward and
ungainly, and nothing can be more easy and graceful than his air and
carriage. And then his ugliness! Uncouth enough he was in that queer
coat, but since he threw that aside he has become another being. I
cannot understand your friend Kramser."
Frau von Osternau agreed with her husband. "You are right," she said,
thoughtfully. "Neither can I understand him. When that young fellow's
eyes flashed to-day as he confronted Albrecht, I thought him actually
handsome, and I could not but admire him again just now as he rode out
of the court-yard, keeping Soliman so perfectly in rein. It makes me
very anxious. It would be terrible to have Lieschen admire him too. He
offered to leave Castle Osternau rather than be a cause of dissension
in our family. Suppose you----"
"Not a word more, Emma," her husband interrupted her. "After his
dispute with Albrecht, in which he conducted himself with such absolute
propriety, it would be a crying injustice to dismiss him. Did I not
declare that he must remain until we had made trial of his capacity as
Fritzchen's tutor?"
"But Lieschen? I have heard you say you should be glad to have Lieschen
marry Albrecht. What if she should take a fancy to the Candidate?"
"No fear of that. The little witch has no idea of taking a fancy to any
one, and as for the wish I may have expressed to you some time ago, I
confess that I no longer cherish it. It arose from my desire to
indemnify our cousin for the loss of the estate, but Lieschen's
happiness is my first consideration, and I do not think Albrecht is the
man to make a woman happy. He is wanting in force of character, he
cannot forget his gay life in the capital, indeed I am afraid that he
has continued it in his frequent visits to Berlin, and that he is in
debt again. But why should we puzzle our brains with what the future
has in store for us? I cannot deny that it is a disagreeable sensation,
the not knowing what to think of this strange man, I wish we had some
one else, even although much more awkward and uninstructed, for Fritz's
tutor, but since we have him and have undertaken certain obligations
with regard to him, they must be fulfilled. We must show him all the
respect we would have Fritz feel for him, we must receive him into our
domestic circle that he may feel at home here, but in the mean time we
must observe him closely, and should he neglect his duty, or prove to
be unfitted for his situation, we can, as we agreed to, part with him."
"But Lieschen?"
"Will take piano-lessons from him. Do not worry yourself unnecessarily;
you can always superintend the girl's music-lessons if it will make you
less anxious to do so, and can soon convince yourself that there is no
danger for the child in Herr Pigglewitch."
Frau von Osternau was not so easy in her mind, but she did not
contradict her husband, she only resolved to watch her daughter and the
Candidate closely, not only during the music-lessons, but at all times
when they were together. The idea of her child's entertaining any
warmer feeling for Herr Pigglewitch than that which a pupil should have
for a teacher was extremely distasteful to her. She was not reassured
when, soon after the above conversation, she saw the riders return from
their visit to the harvesters, and observed the gentle, happy smile
with which Lieschen thanked the Candidate for the ready, easy aid which
he lent her in dismounting. The mother imagined that she perceived a
change in her unconscious child.
Fritz, who had preceded his sister and her cavalier, and had been
seeing that his favourite pony was properly attended to, rushed into
the room. He had a long story to tell his father and mother, first
about the charms of his new tutor during the study-hour, and then of
his wonderful riding. "Even Herr Storting grew pale when he saw Soliman
tearing down to the Oster, but Herr Pigglewitch didn't care, he only
laughed; ah, he knows how to ride! why, he rides better than even
Cousin Albrecht!"
Fritz poured out his raptures over his new tutor, much to his father's
delight, while Frau von Osternau's maternal anxiety was sensibly
increased. She was hardly pleased when her husband sent old Hildebrandt
to invite the Candidate to take tea with the family at eight o'clock,
in the sitting-room; it seemed to her that it was too speedy a welcome
to the domestic circle.
But her fears were appeased when Lieschen, having taken off her habit,
made her appearance, and talked without reserve or embarrassment of her
ride. The very fact of her expressing with perfect frankness her
admiration for the fearless rider and his courage reassured her mother,
and when the girl went on to give a faithful account of her
conversation with the Candidate, and the rebuke she had administered to
him for entertaining such wicked ideas with regard to suicide, her
parents exchanged glances of entire satisfaction.
"Was I not right?" Herr von Osternau asked his wife, with a smile, and
she nodded a pleased assent. Lieschen's freedom from all reserve had
quite reassured her, although, as she repeated to herself, her fears
had not been altogether groundless, since the girl's interest in the
stranger was evident from her manner of speaking of him. Even when she
blamed him there was an unwonted seriousness in her voice and manner,
she really seemed to have suddenly grown older.
Egon appeared punctually at eight o'clock in accordance with his
invitation, and immediately afterwards Albrecht arrived, not by any
means pleased to find the Candidate installed as a member of the
circle. His humour was not improved by hearing Herr von Osternau
request the tutor to consider himself henceforth as one of the family,
joining them at tea whenever he felt so inclined, without further
invitation, a privilege hitherto enjoyed by the Lieutenant alone. The
two other inspectors never appeared at the tea-table without being
specially invited to do so.
In fact, Lieutenant von Osternau did not at all enjoy himself on this
particular evening. Until now he had been the enlivening element of the
little circle, he had, as it were, formed the centre of conversational
interest, but he suddenly found himself superseded by the Candidate,
who conducted himself with an easy assurance inconceivable in a man of
his station, receiving Herr von Osternau's gracious advances as if they
were a matter of course, and taking part in the conversation as though
perfectly accustomed to intercourse with people of rank.
And yet, as the Lieutenant could not but admit to himself, the
Candidate never thrust himself forward, never attempted to lead in the
conversation. When it naturally turned upon his mastery of Soliman, he
made no claim to any special bravery or skill, but smilingly put by all
the compliments addressed to him, and skilfully changed the subject by
remarking upon the interest he had felt in the harvesting, which had
been to him so novel a spectacle. He thus gave Herr von Osternau an
opportunity to expatiate upon his favourite theme.
When the lord of the castle was once fairly launched upon this subject
he usually held forth at great length, but to-day, when Herr
Pigglewitch mentioned the singing of the girls and men as they raked
the hay, Herr von Osternau called to mind the praise given by Herr
Kramser to Herr Pigglewitch's pleasing voice, and he suddenly closed
his discourse by a request that the Candidate would gratify him with a
song.
With ready amiability Egon went instantly to the piano, where he sang
to his own accompaniment, and in a full, rich baritone, a simple
Folksong:
"In Oden forest stands a tree
With branches fresh and green,
Beneath its shade a thousand times
I with my love have been."
The Lieutenant observed, with positive rage in his heart, the effect
which this song produced upon every member of the family. Frau von
Osternau, who was busy at her tea-table, dropped her hands in her lap
at the first notes, and listened intently, with eyes fixed upon the
singer. Her husband sat leaning back in his arm-chair, scarcely daring
to move, for fear of losing one delicious tone, while Lieschen bent
forward in rapt delight with sparkling eyes and parted lips, and when
the last sounds had died away, and Egon arose to take his place again
beside her at the tea-table, she looked up at him with a dreamy,
far-away expression in her dark eyes, which told how great had been her
enjoyment, although she said not a word.
"Charming! Delicious!" Herr von Osternau exclaimed. "Thank you! thank
you! I never heard that song so exquisitely sung. Every note came from
the heart, and, of course, went straight to the heart. You understand,
Herr Candidate, how to render our 'folksongs' with the simplicity that
belongs to them, without any of our modern frippery hung about them."
Egon bowed slightly. Herr von Osternau's cordial enthusiasm was
gratifying, but Lieschen's eyes, as she looked up at him, filled him
with a delicious intoxication, which, however, quickly evaporated when
the Lieutenant, feeling forced to repress his irritation, uttered a few
commendatory phrases in order to display his appreciation of music. His
praise sobered Egon at once. He would willingly have disclaimed it in a
few sharp words, but he suppressed them out of regard for the master
and mistress of the house. He was glad to have further discussion of
his song interrupted by old Hildebrandt's entrance with the post-bag,
which had just arrived from Station Mirbach.
"A letter for you already, Herr Pigglewitch," Herr von Osternau said,
handing Egon an envelope.
Egon hesitated for a moment to take the letter which could not possibly
be for him, but there was no help for it, and he laid it on the table
before him.
"Read your letter, Herr Pigglewitch, you need not stand upon ceremony,"
Herr von Osternau continued, kindly. "Here in the country the advent of
letters is quite another matter than the receiving them in town. We
live here so secluded from the world that letters are all we have to
connect us with it, and of course we wish to open our envelopes as soon
as they are brought to us. The post-bag comes in at this time every
evening, and each of us instantly opens and reads whatever it brings
him or her,--the contents often give us matter for discussion and
conversation. So pray read your letter, I will set you an example by
opening mine, whilst my wife, Lieschen, and Cousin Albrecht look
through the papers and journals."
He broke the seal of his letter as he spoke, and became instantly so
absorbed in its contents that he did not observe that Egon thrust the
one addressed to Herr Pigglewitch into his breast-pocket without
opening it.
Herr von Osternau's letter was very long, and it took him some time to
read it through. Meanwhile there was a pause in the conversation around
the tea-table. Frau von Osternau and the Lieutenant were busy with the
newspapers, and Lieschen turned over the leaves of a journal, without,
however, reading a word; she could not fix her attention, the melody of
the song she had just heard so rang in her ears.
"A very odd, disagreeable letter from your uncle Sastrow," Herr von
Osternau said, after a long pause, turning to his wife. "He wishes us
to invite Bertha von Massenburg to pay a long visit at Castle Osternau,
and I cannot very well see how we can help complying with his wish."
Egon, who had been reflecting for the last few minutes upon what was to
be done with Gottlieb Pigglewitch's letter, started from his revery as
the name of Bertha von Massenburg struck upon his ear. He turned, with
an interest he could hardly conceal, to Herr von Osternau, who went on:
"Very unpleasant things have been happening in Berlin, things that
concern us, although not very nearly: still we are distantly related to
the Massenburgs, and Sastrow reckons upon the relationship. Bertha
should be withdrawn from public attention and the gossip of the capital
for a considerable time, your uncle says, and he thinks her best asylum
would be with us; wherefore he begs me to send her an invitation at his
house as soon as possible."
"What has happened?" asked his wife.
"Oh, 'tis a very ugly kind of story. I had better read you Sastrow's
letter: 'My dear Fritz----'"
Egon rose as Herr von Osternau began reading the letter aloud. However
great his curiosity might be, he could not but remind Herr von Osternau
that there was a stranger present who had no right to a knowledge of
private family affairs. He was about to withdraw, but Herr von Osternau
kindly signed to him to sit down again.
"I appreciate your delicacy, Herr Pigglewitch, but I pray you to
remain. This letter does, to be sure, contain a very unpleasant bit of
family scandal, but it is unfortunately no secret. At the present time,
when distance is annihilated, Berlin gossip spreads far and wide in an
incredibly short space of time. If Bertha von Massenburg comes to us,
the scandal of which she is the innocent subject will follow her very
shortly; all our neighbours will know everything about Bertha and her
unfortunate betrothal, and it will be hard to separate truth from
falsehood. So it is better that you should know the truth from a
trustworthy source, especially as she stands in a certain relationship
to our family. You can then aid to the best of your ability in putting
a stop to idle gossip; therefore I would rather you should hear the
letter.
"My Dear Fritz,--There must, of course, be some important reason for my
sitting here in the middle of the night writing you a lengthy epistle
which must be sent to the post at dawn, that you may receive it
tomorrow evening. This reason consists in my great desire to avert as
far as is possible the consequences of a most unpleasant family affair.
I will be as brief as possible; of course our cousin Werner von
Massenburg is at the bottom of it; who other of the family could
provoke a scandal?
"You have lost money enough by the man to know him well, although
perhaps not so thoroughly as I know him. Of course he is always in
pecuniary difficulties, but even I, poor as is my opinion of him,
should not have suspected him of attempting to relieve himself of his
debts by selling his daughter,--the expression is not too strong,--and
this is just what he has done.
"About two weeks ago Werner came to me and informed me that he was
about to betroth Bertha to a distinguished young fellow, Egon von
Ernau, the son of the Privy Councillor von Ernau. The affair had been
concluded with the young man's father, who declared that his son was
nothing loath. All that remained to be done was to bring the young
people together that the betrothal might take place in the usual way,
since it could not very well be announced before they had even seen
each other. He therefore begged me to invite Bertha to pay us a visit;
he would introduce young Ernau to us, and everything could be speedily
arranged.
"When I expressed my great disapproval of a marriage thus contracted,
he went on to explain that it was a matter of life and death to him.
His old friend the Privy Councillor Ernau had promised to liquidate all
his debts in case the recent patent of nobility of the Ernaus should
receive the aristocratic veneer which would be given it by a union with
the old knightly line of the Massenburgs. He was so persistent in his
entreaties that at last I consented, although sorely against my better
judgment, and wrote to Koenigsberg, inviting Bertha to exchange for a
while her aunt Massenburg's home in Koenigsberg for our house in Berlin.
By return of post I received a charming letter from Bertha accepting my
invitation, and she arrived here yesterday.
"After writing to Bertha, I thought it my duty to inform myself with
regard to our future connections the Ernaus. What I learned of them was
by no means reassuring. Privy Councillor von Ernau is, it is true,
immensely wealthy, the head of an extensive banking business, his
reputation for honesty and business capacity has never been even
breathed upon, but he is the most insufferably self-important,
conceited fellow, who never loses an opportunity of seeing his name in
the papers, so great is his love of notoriety. He keeps open house, and
poses as a patron of art and science without having a conception of
either. He keeps a racing stud, although he is no horseman; and he
contributes vast sums for political purposes, without the faintest real
interest in politics. Only let his name appear in the papers and he is
content, no sacrifice is too great to make to his vanity.
"What I could gather concerning the son is scarcely any better. It is
generally conceded that Herr Egon von Ernau is a very talented young
fellow, but that he abuses most frivolously the brilliant gifts
bestowed upon him by nature. He studied and passed brilliant
examinations, without turning his knowledge to any account. He has
inherited from his father--with whom, moreover, he is on terms of no
intimacy, father and son sometimes not meeting for weeks--an enormous
stock of vanity, which, however, he shows after an entirely different
fashion. It is his pleasure to pay no heed whatever to the opinion of
the world, to appear alike indifferent to praise and to blame, to
attach no importance to worldly honours. He has drained to the dregs
every pleasure, every delight that wealth can give, and he is to the
last degree _blase_. In the assurance of his own superiority he
despises all other men and treats them accordingly. He is a man
of talent but of no character, and he utterly lacks balance and
self-control.
"It is easy to see that such a man is not calculated to make a wife
happy; therefore I thought it my duty, before the affair was finally
decided, to talk seriously to Massenburg, but it was too late; he could
not withdraw, even had he desired to do so. He had made binding
promises to Councillor Ernau; the betrothal, if not actually announced,
was known everywhere. The Councillor had informed his friends on
'Change that the betrothal of his son Egon to the noble Fraeulein Bertha
von Massenburg was shortly to be celebrated by a grand entertainment,
and Werner himself had been so imprudent as to admit this when
questioned upon the subject. The betrothal was already an open secret,
much discussed among the aristocracy of money as well as of blood.
There was pity expressed for the poor girl who was to be sacrificed to
a vain, heartless _roue_. There were various remarks made at the club
in Werner's hearing with regard to the burnishing of an aristocratic
scutcheon with money gained in trade, but he was firm in his resolve.
The effect of all this gossip was to induce him to hurry as much as
possible the public announcement of the betrothal. It was arranged by
the two fathers that Herr Egon von Ernau should pay his first visit
here yesterday and should be invited by me to an evening party. So
soon as the young people had fairly met, there was to be a large
garden-party at the Councillor's villa, and the betrothal was to be
formally announced.
"It was very distasteful to me, of course, to lend myself to what was
to bring about a connection which I considered so undesirable, but I
was forced to consent to what was asked of me. I did so, however, only
upon condition that I should be allowed immediately after Bertha's
arrival to lay before her the true state of affairs. Should she decline
then to accede to her father's schemes, I declared that no force should
be put upon her beneath my roof. I would then refuse to receive young
Ernau.
"Early yesterday morning (the express train from Koenigsberg arrives in
Berlin at six o'clock) I went to the railway-station to meet Bertha. I
did not recognize her when she first stepped out on the platform. I had
not seen her for several years, and she had grown from a pretty little
school-girl into an elegant young lady. She, however, instantly
recognized me, rushed into my arms, calling me 'dearest cousin,' and
was so charming and amiable that she won my heart at once. All the more
did I hold it to be my duty to warn her against the wretched scheme.
"I did so as we drove home from the station. We were alone, and I had
plenty of time to explain matters thoroughly.
"To my exceeding surprise, I found that she showed no distaste whatever
for the union forced upon her, she had without hesitation written to
her father that she was quite ready to bestow her hand upon Herr von
Ernau. Even my unflattering portrait of the young man did not make her
waver in her resolve. With a degree of cool equanimity which seemed
unnatural in so young a girl, she explained that the faults which I
attributed to Herr von Ernau were common to all wealthy young men who
had lived fast, and that she was not at all shocked by them. Certainly,
from all she could hear, she judged young Ernau to be a man of honour,
very clever, and withal extremely rich, wherefore she was quite willing
to forgive him some small faults of which he would probably be cured in
the course of time. She had lived a life of weary dependence with her
aunt Massenburg and longed for freedom. She should not have refused to
marry even a less distinguished suitor than Herr von Ernau, to be
relieved from the cheerless existence she had been leading.
"After the cordiality and affection with which Bertha had greeted me, I
was entirely unprepared to find her so coolly calculating. I told her
so, and she replied with a smile that she was too old--she is just
nineteen--to be deceived by any illusions as to 'love's young dream,'
that the place to seek such was in popular romances; in real life a
poor girl of rank must learn to be practical and to take reason for her
guide. No better match could be found than the one her father had
provided for her, and since she had no fancy for being an old maid, she
certainly should not commit the folly of rejecting such good fortune.
"Much disappointed, I dropped the subject; the girl no longer appeared
so charming to me. Her wonderful self-possession, her cool calculation,
made a very disagreeable impression upon me, but this vanished when I
spoke to her of her father. She was so frankly rejoiced to relieve him
from his embarrassments, to restore to him the possession of his
ancestral estate, and she expressed her joy so warmly and with so much
love for her father, that I was quite reconciled to her again. And it
was just so with my wife. Bertha took her heart by storm. During
breakfast, when the Ernaus were discussed, she was as displeased as I
had been by Bertha's cynicism, but her displeasure was only transitory.
The girl soon conquered her again by her amiability.
"I really dreaded Egon von Ernau's visit. Werner had informed me that
the young man would make his appearance about twelve, but he did not
come. Hours passed, and at four o'clock Werner appeared in his stead.
Bertha rushed into his arms, she was bewitching in her delight at
seeing her father again; indeed, she was like some artless, lovely
child in her tender, caressing ways with her father.
"You know Werner, he neither deserves nor appreciates such affection. I
really think he cares more for a fine race-horse than for his charming
daughter, whose caresses evidently annoyed him. He endured without
returning them, only bestowing a cold kiss upon Bertha's cheek, and
immediately desiring to see me in private.
"As soon as we were alone in my library the tempest, the signs of which
I had already seen in his face, burst forth, he raged and swore, talked
of putting a bullet through his brains; and some time elapsed before he
was sufficiently calm to explain to me the cause of his anger.
"His affairs certainly looked black enough. The son-in-law of his
desires had disappeared, thus destroying the scheme upon which all
Werner's hopes had been based.
"The Privy Councillor von Ernau had risen, according to his wont, at
eight in the morning, and, not at all according to his wont, had been
desirous of breakfasting with his son, that he might consult him with
regard to the arrangements for the celebration of his betrothal. He
therefore sent to desire his son to come to him. The servant sent
returned in a few minutes with Egon's man, who explained that his
master had not returned home at all on the previous night, his bed was
untouched, and upon his writing-table a letter had been found,
addressed to his father, in his handwriting. This letter was handed to
the Privy Councillor. He broke the seal, as he himself stated, with a
trembling hand, but this last is doubtful. The letter contained only
the words 'Farewell! E. von E.'
"'He has destroyed himself!' was the father's exclamation, as he
hastened to Egon's rooms in company with the servant, and searched them
through in hopes of finding some scrap of writing that might allay his
apprehensions, but in vain. His first words seemed the only true
explanation of his son's disappearance.
"Egon could not have left town for a journey, his servant had received
no directions to prepare for a trip, and the young man's clothes were
undisturbed, none were missing save those which he wore when last seen.
A costly revolver, a favourite weapon of Egon's, was not to be found.
Everything strengthened the Privy Councillor in the belief that his son
had committed suicide. He had hitherto taken but a languid interest in
his son, he had often indeed passed weeks without seeing him, although
the same roof sheltered both; now the Privy Councillor suddenly assumed
the part of a tender, agonized parent. He burst into loud lamentations
over the terrible fate of his beloved son, he reproached himself for
having driven him to put an end to himself. Nothing but despair at
being forced to marry a girl whom he did not love could have driven
Egon to such a horrible deed.
"These lamentations were publicly made, and by them Herr von Ernau
attained a vast notoriety. He was quite given over to the _role_ of
tender, agonized parent. He played it before his servants at home and
the clerks in his counting-room. In vain they all tried to soothe him,
to represent that there was as yet no proof that his terrible suspicion
was correct; in vain did his cashier declare that if Herr Egon had
contemplated suicide he would not have drawn, as he had done the day
before, twenty thousand marks from the bank. The Privy Councillor
insisted that his son had shot himself, the drawing of the twenty
thousand marks was an additional proof of the deed. Egon had wished to
pay everything that he owed before his death, and had drawn the money
for this purpose.
"Werner von Massenburg believed that the Councillor's loud lamentations
were all dictated by his vanity, which was always urging him to seek
notoriety at any price. At nine o'clock he had ordered his carriage and
was driving about among all his intimate friends and acquaintances
enacting the same scene over and over again, and declaring that the
wretched proposed betrothal had driven Egon to despair. By noon the
universal topic on 'Change was young Ernau's suicide and its cause, and
the story flew like wildfire all through the town. An hour previously
it had reached Werner, and he had hurried to the Councillor, with whom
he had gone through a terrible scene. The Councillor, in his false,
theatrical fashion, had cursed the unfortunate projected betrothal, and
had heaped reproaches upon Werner, who, of course, was not slow in
retaliating, until at last Ernau vowed angrily that if the faint hope
that still existed should prove a certainty, and Egon be found to be
alive, the hated betrothal should never take place.
"This was the sum of Werner's incoherent narrative. He cursed the
Ernaus, father and son, and in his utter selfishness even found fault
with Bertha for bringing him into this frightful difficulty by a too
ready acquiescence in his plans. She must be completely compromised by
the scandal, which was now known all over the town, and in a few days
society would cast scorn upon the names of Massenburg and Ernau, and
the wildest exaggerations of the story of Egon's suicide would be told
everywhere.
"I tried to soothe Werner, but with small success. He left me at last
with the task upon my hands of informing Bertha of what had occurred.
"This was unpleasant enough, but the girl made it as easy for me as
possible. She listened to my account with great composure, only
expressing her sorrow that her poor father should be disappointed in
his dearest hopes. When my wife spoke indignantly of young Ernau, she
shrugged her shoulders. 'I am sorry for him,' she said, in a tone
expressive of quite as much scorn as pity; 'he is evidently one of
those unfortunate men who, bred in the lap of luxury, have lost all
force of character, all capacity to shape their destiny. He is
certainly more to be pitied than blamed for shuffling off his life like
a coward instead of opposing his father's schemes like a man.'
"I was glad that she so easily acquiesced in the inevitable, and I
hoped that Werner's fear lest her reputation should suffer from what
had occurred would prove groundless. To-day has, unfortunately,
convinced me of the contrary.
"The scandal is full-blown. The whole story is talked of everywhere,
and one of the morning papers tells it in detail, with all sorts of
additions. It is hinted that Herr Egon von Ernau is the victim of a low
money speculation on the part of a family of rank. Fraeulein Bertha von
Massenburg knew that he was in love with a girl of the middle class,
but would not withdraw her pretensions because she did not choose to
lose a wealthy _parti_. The young man had been led, by his love for his
father, into giving his consent to the betrothal, in hopes that
Fraeulein von Massenburg would reject his hand when she learned that he
loved another. Disappointed in this hope, he had recourse to his
revolver.
"Although everybody knows how perfectly untrustworthy are these
romantic tales conceived in the brain of some newspaper reporter,
everybody believes them, as I have, alas! seen only too clearly during
the past day. In the course of it my wife has had more visits than she
has received for weeks from friends and acquaintances of every degree
of intimacy, and she is in despair over the expressions of
commiseration and the curious inquiries concerning private family
affairs to which she has been compelled to listen. These visits have so
unnerved her that I have been forced to forbid the admission of
visitors to the house for some days to come.
"This is only the beginning of the annoyance. The newspapers will all
shortly have their various versions of the affair. Instead of pitying
the poor girl, as people would have done a few days ago for being
sacrificed to a _roue_, all now condemn her, and lavish their
compassion on the poor fellow who was tormented into putting an end to
a life so full of promise.
"Under these circumstances Bertha cannot remain in Berlin. Her stay
here would be intolerable, both for her and for my poor wife. Neither
can her aunt Massenburg recall her to Koenigsberg, where gossip would
inevitably pursue her and be more rife in the provincial town than in
the capital. Moreover, Aunt Massenburg is, as you know, a person of
such very strict ideas that it is doubtful whether she will ever again
receive beneath her roof a girl so talked about.
"In our need we have thought of you, dear Fritz. You are, through your
wife, related to poor Bertha, and you must give her an asylum in your
house until the storm has blown over. After a few weeks, at most after
a few months, no one will remember that there ever was an Egon von
Ernau. We live quickly, and forget as quickly, at the present day.
"So I entreat you to invite Bertha to pay a long visit to Castle
Osternau. I know that I ask you to make a sacrifice in granting my
request. Malicious gossip may follow Bertha even to the depths of the
country and cause you annoyance, but I know you well enough to be sure
that you will not on that account hesitate to do such a kindness.
Nothing can so surely tend to re-establish Bertha's reputation in
public opinion as the knowledge that she is the guest of a family so
highly esteemed as your own.
"And now farewell. My warm regards to your excellent wife. Do not let
her be vexed with her old uncle for asking so great a service at your
hands. Write soon to yours faithfully,
"Sastrow."
A long silence followed upon the reading of this lengthy epistle. Herr
von Osternau waited in vain for some expression of opinion from his
wife. "Well, Emma," he asked, at last, "what do you think of this
unfortunate story?"
"I pity the poor girl," Frau von Osternau replied. "The punishment of
her folly is almost too hard."
"I cannot even see in what her folly has consisted," observed the
Lieutenant. "What has she done to deserve such a reproach? She obeyed
her father, consented to make a brilliant match, and did it gladly. She
could not possibly foresee what would be the consequences of an
engagement which seemed so advantageous both for herself and for her
father."
"That is just it. She thought of nothing save what she thought
advantageous," Lieschen eagerly interposed. "I cannot even pity her.
She knew from Uncle Sastrow all about that odious Egon von Ernau,--that
he was a man without heart or principle,--and yet she was quite ready
to marry him because he was rich. It makes me indignant!"
"Ought she then to have refused to obey her father?" asked the
Lieutenant.
"Yes, she ought! No father has a right to ask his child to disgrace
herself by such a marriage. I am indignant with Bertha Massenburg. I
never could have believed it of her. She was so charming, so
good-natured, so kind, I liked her so much when she spent nearly the
whole summer with us here at Osternau, about five years ago. I cannot
bear to think that she could allow herself to be so dazzled by mere
wealth. She deserves her punishment."
"My child, your judgment of her is very severe," her father said,
gravely. "Since her mother's death, Bertha's lot has been a sad one.
She was homeless, for her father, who spent his time in all kinds of
dissipation, was deep in debt, his estates were mortgaged, and he took
no interest in his child. She was obliged thankfully to accept shelter
with her aunt Massenburg, at Koenigsberg. There her life must have been
absolutely wretched. I know what a hard and loveless woman Gunda
Massenburg is. We must not condemn Bertha for gladly consenting at last
to anything that her father proposed that could deliver her from such a
home. We should rather pity her. It is your duty, Lieschen, to receive
her here with all the affection which you gave her in happier times."
"You have decided to invite her here, then?" Frau von Osternau asked,
anxiously.
"Yes, Emma. The poor girl ought to find a refuge with us from the
gossip and slander which have attacked her good name."
"But, Fritz----"
"Indeed it is our duty, disagreeable as it may seem, so let us say no
more about it except in the way of arranging how your uncle's wishes
may be most speedily fulfilled. I will write to-night both to him and
to Bertha. Herr Pigglewitch is going to Breslau with Herr Storting
to-morrow morning early. If he will kindly post my letters there we can
have a reply by day after to-morrow night, and shall know when to
expect Bertha. You will take charge of the letters, will you not, Herr
Candidate?"
At this direct question Egon started as if from a dream. He had
listened with intense attention to the letter, but had really heard
nothing of what had since been said. It was his fault, all this
wretched scandal which so painfully involved all these people, and from
the annoyance of which Herr von Osternau and his family were not
exempt.
When he left his father's house, as he thought forever, and succeeded
in leaving Berlin without being seen or recognized by any one, he had
taken genuine satisfaction in his success in vanishing without leaving
a trace behind. He had derived a unique enjoyment from imagining the
impression which his disappearance would produce among his
acquaintances; he had never once fancied that his voluntary departure
from the world could cause any real regret to a living being. He knew
that his father was incapable of feeling genuine grief; there was no
one to be pained by his sudden death. Egon had loved and been loved by
no one. And his imagination had not played him false. Herr von
Sastrow's letter described the theatric woo of the Councillor: if he
had actually felt a degree of sorrow for his son's death he was more
than indemnified by the opportunity for playing the part of a bereaved
parent. His vanity was flattered by the sensation caused by Egon's
disappearance.
The young man could see it all in his mind's eye,--his father's
well-acted agony for the death of a son upon whom he had bestowed no
affection, and the equally well acted sympathy of his acquaintances.
All were aware of the farce at which they were assisting, but it was
played because required by the customs of society, and because the
actors were well pleased with their parts.
Yes, everything had happened as Egon had thought it would. What he had
not thought of was that his death could cast a shade upon another human
existence,--upon the reputation of his proposed bride.
He had been most disagreeably affected during the reading of the letter
by the enumeration of his various characteristics, for he could not but
admit the degree of truth in the written picture. A fleeting blush had
passed over his cheek when he heard the terms in which Bertha von
Massenburg had summed up his character, 'An unfortunate man who, bred
in the lap of luxury, had lost all force of character, all capacity to
shape his destiny.' She had bestowed upon him her contemptuous pity!
Lieschen had spoken of cowardice when, during their ride, she had
expressed her detestation of suicide. And Bertha von Massenburg had
pitied him as a coward!
He was so absorbed in these thoughts that he heard nothing of what was
going on about him, and when startled by Herr von Osternau's appeal to
him he was obliged to confess that he had not heard his question.
"Extraordinary absence of mind," the Lieutenant observed, but Herr von
Osternau said, in his gentle, kindly way, "Herr Pigglewitch has had a
most fatiguing day, and it is very natural that he should feel but a
slight degree of interest in the family affairs of strangers."
Then, after repeating his request with regard to the letters, and
receiving on the instant an assurance from Egon that he would gladly
undertake the charge of them, Herr von Osternau added,--
"As you must be tired, Herr Pigglewitch, and need rest, I will not
detain you from seeking it. I would ask but one favour of you. We have
all been moved by Sastrow's letter, which will give me at least a
troubled night. Perhaps you may succeed in diverting our thoughts if
you will kindly go once more to the piano and give us some of your
delicious music."
An eloquent look from Lieschen seconded her father's request, and Egon
willingly complied. He himself had often resorted to music for
consolation, but of late this source of comfort had failed him; he had
played with enjoyment to-day for the first time for months, and now so
soon as his fingers touched the keys the old spell threw its charm over
him. He forgot that Herr von Osternau had asked him to play, he forgot
that he was among strangers, of whom one, the Lieutenant, was eying him
with dislike and suspicion; he played for himself alone. Involuntarily
he glided after a brief prelude into one of Schumann's wonderful
reveries. He had played the studies of the immortal master so often, he
had made them so thoroughly his own, that the notes came now as if from
his very soul, and thus affected his hearers, who listened breathless,
fairly carried away by the magic of sound.
It was over--with the last tone the spell too was broken. He knew that
he was among the Von Osternaus; there upon the lounge sat the
Lieutenant sullenly staring at the floor, and beside him was Frau von
Osternau, her hands clasped in her lap, lost in dreamy enjoyment. And
Lieschen?--there were tears in the girl's eyes! Egon saw no more, he
felt his pulses quicken, any word of praise or thanks would have been
intolerable to him. Rising from the piano, he would have left the room
in silence, but that he suddenly remembered what was due from Gottlieb
Pigglewitch to his employer. Little as he had learned of self-control,
it must be exercised now. So with a courteous bow he turned to the
master of the house and begged to be excused from playing anything
more, he was really much fatigued and would ask permission to retire to
his room. He then kissed Frau von Osternau's offered hand, bowed low to
Lieschen, even bestowed a formal inclination upon the Lieutenant, and
retired.
When the door closed behind him he passed his hand over his eyes as if
to push away some cloud from his mind. Was he the same Egon von Ernau
who had never paid the slightest regard to what others might think of
him,--to anything indeed save his own whim of the moment? A strange and
sudden change had come over him,--he could not comprehend it.