CLARA DEA EX MACHINA.
Never during the past four years had Egon been so lonely, never had he
felt so deserted, so miserable and dissatisfied, as during the first
ten days of his residence at Plagnitz. Everything combined to make his
mood of the gloomiest. He was not ill, and yet he was not perfectly
well. The doctor now permitted him to take short walks, but had exacted
from him a promise that he would curb his impatience to take more
exercise until the next week. There was nothing for him to do, after
walking through a field or two, but to return to his room and take up a
book or sit down at the piano.
Could he only have given entire attention to his book, or have become
absorbed in his music,--but this was impossible. After he had
determinedly read a page or two his rebellious thoughts would wander
back to old times at Castle Osternau, or fly after Storting in his
travels, or try to peer into the future. And it was just the same when
he sat down at his piano: before long his hands would drop listlessly
from the keys, and he would resign himself to profitless and cheerless
musings.
After the visit of the Wangens he was, if possible, more uncomfortable
than before; he was annoyed to feel any restraint in his intercourse
with Linau. Bertha's presence, too, had made old memories more vivid
than ever. Where, where was Lieschen? He had received only one brief
letter from Storting, in Berlin. Frau von Osternau had left the capital
a couple of weeks previously; the mistress of the house where she had
lodged could not tell him whither she had gone, and Herr von Sastrow
and his wife were unfortunately absent, travelling. Storting could do
nothing save go to Osternau, where he hoped that the pastor might tell
him what he wished to know; if this hope were disappointed, he was
resolved to apply directly to Herr Albrecht von Osternau, who would
certainly know the address to which the quarterly payment of the
widow's legal income was to be sent.
After this letter, which had been dispatched immediately before
Storting's departure for Osternau, no further news had been received
from him. His silence filled Egon with restless anxiety; he sent a
mounted messenger to the post-office three times every day, but on
Friday evening he had not yet heard that Frau von Osternau had been
found.
At last, on Saturday morning, Egon's eager expectations were
gratified,--the post-bag contained a letter addressed in Storting's
handwriting. Egon tore it open with a hand trembling with anxiety, and
read,--
"My Dear Herr Von Ernau,--Your admirable plan has been successfully
carried out, as I am most glad to inform you. I did well in going to
Osternau, where I learned from the pastor that Frau von Osternau had
established herself at Hirschberg. I instantly travelled thither, and
found the dear lady in excellent health. She was no less pleased than
amazed to see me, and when I told her the story of Herr Carl Johann
Simon and showed her his letter, she was at first quite speechless with
surprise, and then burst into tears of joy and gratitude. Evidently it
never occurred to her to doubt my account. She blessed her husband's
memory, remembered his lending the money perfectly, and that she had
remonstrated with him for his ready confidence in every one's honesty.
And then she broke forth in exclamations of delight at knowing that she
could now bring her daughter home to live with her, and that Fraeulein
Lieschen need no longer sacrifice herself for her mother's sake. I only
wish that you could have witnessed the joy of which you were the
source.
"Frau von Osternau is to go with me to Berlin to take possession of her
property and have the receipt for the same duly made out and signed.
This we do to-morrow; the result of our expedition I shall tell you by
word of mouth, but I write to-day to let you know of my success, and of
a fact which you ought to know immediately. Fraeulein Lieschen is at
present your neighbour; you have, without knowing it, passed a night in
the same house with her. Herr von Wangen engaged her as governess for
his young sister. In order, however, to be near her mother, she has
accepted another situation in the vicinity of Hirschberg, and is to
leave Linau next Sunday. Fortunately, there is now no need of her
accepting any situation whatever, as her mother joyfully declared. It
seems rather odd--does it not?--that you should neither have seen
Fraeulein Lieschen nor heard of her presence in Linau when you were
there; but then your accident probably chased everything else from the
minds of your hosts. I thought it my duty to let you know immediately
that Fraeulein Lieschen leaves Linau on Sunday, thinking that you may be
able to drive over and see her on Saturday afternoon, if this reaches
you, as it should do, on the morning of that day."
Egon dropped the letter; he could not read further; the last lines
danced before his eyes. Lieschen was in Linau! for only one day longer,
it is true, but this day was his own. What did he care for the
physician's prohibition? He must drive to Linau; every moment of delay
was an opportunity lost.
Lieschen in Linau! She had been his nurse that night; it was her lovely
face of which he had been aware in his semi-consciousness; her cool,
gentle hand had been laid upon his forehead; she had leaned over him in
anxious hope for his return to life. His dream, had been no dream,
after all.
And he had supposed that Bertha had cared for him so kindly! He
rejoiced that he owed nothing to her nursing. He could not think of her
save with a sensation akin to dislike. Her charm was utterly gone. Why
had she concealed from him that Lieschen was beneath her roof? No one
had even hinted at her presence there. But yes, Clara! Egon suddenly
comprehended the child's parting words to him, words which he had
understood falsely: 'There's somebody, at all events, who does want
to see you.' She had flown back to say this to him unheard by her
sister-in-law.
Oh, he understood it all,--the _ennui_ of the woman trained to live in
the whirl of society and stranded in her quiet home, knowing 'so ill to
deal with time' as to turn for excitement to an idle flirtation with
the first man available, and dreading lest another should interfere
with her schemes. But it was not too late to baffle them.
To Linau then! He went himself to the stables to order the horses put
to a light hunting-wagon. The coachman could not obey his orders
quickly enough. Anton shook his head over his master's impatience,
while to Egon every moment that passed seemed an irreparable loss.
At last he found himself seated behind his spirited horses; but Anton
did not drive fast enough; his master took the reins from him, and
urged the pair to their quickest speed. To him they seemed to travel at
a snail's pace. On they flew; not until Anton ventured to call his
attention to their condition did he bethink himself that there really
was no need for such urgent haste. The servant's words recalled his
resolve to exercise self-control, to curb the impulse of the moment,
and he gave back the reins to his coachman's hands.
The way seemed to stretch out infinitely, but at last Linau appeared,
half hidden in trees, on the summit of a gentle incline. A quarter of
an hour would bring them to its court-yard, but Egon was forced to curb
his impatience and to order the coachman to rein in his horses. This he
did in obedience to the flutter of a white kerchief waved by a graceful
horsewoman who came galloping across-country towards him. It was Clara,
who had seen him from a distance and thus signalled him to await her
approach. The high-road was separated from the meadows bounding it on
one side by a tolerably wide and deep ditch, but this was no obstacle
for Clara; her pretty little mare took it at a leap, and in a minute
its rider drew up beside the light wagon. With sparkling eyes she
greeted Egon, saying, with a confidential nod, "You have come at last,
Herr von Ernau! I expected you yesterday and the day before, as poor
old Jost knows to his cost," and she pointed with her riding-whip to
the old groom, who had followed her and was riding about on the other
side of the ditch, looking for a narrow place at which to cross it.
"You expected me, Fraeulein Clara?"
"Of course. I considered that you promised me to come before Sunday,
and therefore on the day before yesterday and yesterday I rode about
the fields here at the time when I thought you would appear, looking
out for you. If you had not come now, I was going to send my old Jost
to Plagnitz to remind you to keep your promise this afternoon, and, if
the worst came to the worst, I should have gone and brought you over
myself, for I was determined that come you must to-day."
"If I am right in my conjecture," Egon said, very gravely, "you wished
me to come to Linau to-day because Fraeulein von Osternau leaves it
to-morrow."
Clara dropped her bridle and clapped her hands. "Oh, this is
delightful!" she exclaimed. "You know that Elise is here! I have never
told you, and now my silly promise not to tell you binds me no longer."
"To whom did you make this promise?"
"Why, to Elise, of course. But you need not look so cast down, Herr von
Ernau. I'm sure she felt sorry that she allowed herself to be so
influenced by Bertha's ill-natured words as to make me promise. I was
determined that you should know that my darling Elise is here, for if
you knew her long ago at Castle Osternau, I am sure you must want to
see her again."
"Does Fraeulein von Osternau know that you expect me?"
"Of course not. That would have spoiled it all. I took good care not to
tell her. It is all a little plan of my own. Elise never tells me
anything; she thinks me nothing but a child, but I can see in her eyes
how glad she would be to see Herr von Ernau again. But indeed there is
no time to go on talking. Tell me, honestly and frankly, Herr von
Ernau, do you come to Linau to-day to see Elise?"
"Honestly and frankly then, my dear little Clara, yes."
"And for that only?"
"Yes."
"And would you like to see her now, just when she is alone and
expecting nobody?"
"That is just what I desire beyond all else."
"Then you must not drive on to Linau, but follow me on foot. We will
let your carriage wait, lest it should betray us. Get out, Herr von
Ernau, and I will show your coachman a spot where he can wait for you
without exciting any one's attention. Let him drive along that path
that skirts the fields, and he will find a cool, shady place on the
edge of the forest, where the horses will not tire of standing."
Egon did as he was bidden; and, while his coachman obeyed the young
girl's directions, his master walked beside Clara's horse as she slowly
rode along the highway towards Linau. Old Jost, who had managed to
cross the ditch, followed at a respectful distance.
Clara was in the gayest mood, enchanted that her charming plan, which
she had contrived entirely by herself, was on the eve of being so
successfully carried out, without any necessity on her part of breaking
the promise made to Elise. She never asked what happy chance had
informed Egon of Elise's presence at Linau; it was enough for her that
he knew of it, and that she had not been forced to reveal it herself.
There was no longer any secret to keep, and she ran on with a long
description of how Elise had taken such care of Herr von Ernau on the
dreadful night of the accident, and how her eyes had filled with tears
of joy when she heard the next morning that his wound was not
dangerous. Nor did she fail to dwell upon her own insight in making
sure from Elise's face, without hearing one word from her lips, that
nothing would please her more than to renew her acquaintance with Herr
von Ernau. It was so sad, too, that Bertha did not seem to care for
Elise, and that made it easier for her, Clara, to part with her. Did
Herr von Ernau know that Elise had found another situation near her
mother? For her part, Clara wished that Frau von Osternau lived near
Linau, and then, perhaps, if Bertha would only be as sweet and kind as
she was sometimes, Elise might be persuaded to stay with them. Did not
Herr von Ernau think it a real misfortune to lose so charming a person
from the neighbourhood?
In truth, Egon's mind and heart were in such a turmoil of hope and fear
that he heard but vaguely his young guide's talk. He was absolutely
conscious of but one fact, that along this road, led by this charming
child, he was on his way to see once again the fairy of Castle
Osternau, the girl who had held him captive all these years, whose
influence, established in a few short weeks, had transformed him from
an idle, weary, useless creature to a man who felt that he had a part
to play in the world, and who meant to play it to the best of his
ability. And yet, if she should refuse to stand by his side to aid him
in this new life, how dark the future looked! Could she ever pardon the
falsehood he had practised upon her and those dear to her? Clara was
obliged, to her dismay, to repeat her question before Herr von Ernau
heeded it and looked up with, "The greatest misfortune that could
befall us, my little Clara."
The warmth of the reply when it came soothed Clara's fears lest Herr
von Ernau did not fully appreciate her services in thus procuring him
an interview with her adored Elise. She went on to tell him that at
this hour on Saturday Elise was sure to be in the 'master's arbour,'
which he might now see, half hidden among the trees on their left. "And
there is a gate in the picket-fence," she added, "always kept locked;
no one goes out of the garden by it now that poor papa is dead. He
always went to the meadows that way, but I knew perfectly well where
the key was kept, and I have had it in my pocket since the day before
yesterday, all ready for just this moment. Here we are, Herr von Ernau,
and here is the key," she said, handing it down to him. "Let it stay in
the lock. I will go off with Jost for a ride, and then, after about
half an hour, when you have talked enough with Elise, I will come back
and take you to the house. I want to see how surprised they'll be when
they know that you have found Elise. Good-by, Herr von Ernau! Do not
miss the path,--the one on the left leads directly to the house, and
the one on the right to 'the master's arbour.' Good-by! I shall see you
again in half an hour."
With a merry laugh and a wave of the hand she was off at a pace at
which old Jost found it hard to follow her.
Egon unlocked the little gate, and with a beating heart struck into the
winding right-hand path. The moment that was to decide his future was
at hand; he was to see Lieschen again. Had she really, as Clara would
have given him to understand, cherished his memory kindly? Was it not
more likely that the child's insight had been utterly at fault, and
that his image had long since been banished from the mind and heart of
one go pare, so true, to whom all disguise was hateful?
And now the little arbour, about which the vines hung heavily, making
the closing of its rustic door quite impossible, was just before him.
How quiet it all was! Suppose Clara was wrong, and that upon pushing
wide that door he should find nothing but solitude. He paused for a
moment, half afraid to go on, and as he did so there fell on his ear
the low tones of the voice which he knew so well, singing softly the
words of the old Folksong--
"In Olden forest stands a tree."
It was the first he had ever sung at Castle Osternau. He saw it all
again,--the good old Herr in his arm-chair, the sweet face of his wife
as she sat beside him knitting, and Lieschen's eyes gazing in rapture
at the singer. For an instant memory wellnigh unmanned him, but that
she should be singing just that song gave him for encouragement than he
was himself aware of; he gently pushed open the door. Yes it was she.
She sat half turned from him, her hands resting in her lap upon the
embroidery with which she had been occupied, her gaze fixed upon the
distant landscape, visible through an opening in the vines and
shrubbery. The door had swung noiselessly, she did not look towards it.
"Lieschen!" It was all. She started and turned towards him a face from
which all colour departed, only to return in an instant and mantle
neck, cheeks, and brow in crimson. "Herr von Ernau!--I--" Then, burying
her face in her hands, she burst into an uncontrollable fit of weeping.
In an instant Egon was beside her, at her feet, pouring forth
protestations, vows, entreaties for pardon.
"My love, my darling, can you ever forgive me for deceiving you as I
did? I have no right to ask it, still less to hope that you can, and
yet I do hope. Your memory has been the light of my life since I left
Berlin, four years ago; the though of you and of your words spurred me
on to begin a new existence, it gave me strength in all my struggles
with self, and, oh! Lieschen, take pity upon me. The future will be so
cheerless without you. Complete your work, dear. Try to make me of some
use in the world. You have suffered, my darling; I know it all. Let me
shield you in future, at least from suffering alone. Can you forgive me
and heed my pleadings, for the sake of the love I bear you, which will
always be yours, and yours only, whatever may be your answer to me
now?"
Elise did not speak, but her sobs ceased; she let her lover wipe away
her tears, and read her answer in her eyes.