ANGELA IS EVEN WITH IVAN
Success brings with it fame, fortune, and universal esteem. Men
worship success, and with justice.
He who has saved a great treasure, who has restored to thousands of
people their country, their industry; he who has overcome a universal
calamity which threatened an entire province; he who has given to
thousands on the verge of beggary their livelihood, who has dried the
tears of the widow and the orphan--he is near to God himself.
Honors and rewards were showered upon Ivan. The government gave him
for all time the patent for his discovery. By the Joint-Stock Mining
Company he was handsomely remunerated. A monster deputation obliged
him to accept the place of director. Scientific societies at home and
abroad elected him member. His picture and biography appeared in all
the illustrated papers of Europe and America. The simple villagers in
Bondathal prayed for him night and morning; and when the first train
steamed out of the Bondavara station, the locomotive bore the name of
"Behrend." It was only God's providence that preserved him from
receiving "an order."
Perhaps the most interesting testimony, and the one most valued by
Ivan, was a letter which the Countess Angela wrote to him with her own
hand.
The countess told him frankly all that had happened to her since they
had met; how she had married the Marquis Salista; how unhappy he had
made her by the pressure he brought to bear upon her grandfather,
Prince Theobald, which ended in his property being sequestrated, to
the ruin of the whole family of Bondavary. She had suffered greatly in
consequence, and had known what privation meant; also the income of
the Countess Theudelinde had been considerably diminished, and the old
lady had been forced to reduce her household. This condition of
affairs had shown them their former friends in their true light--among
others, Salista, her husband, who had gone to Mexico, and left her to
shift for herself. Then Ivan had come to the rescue. Prince Waldemar's
triumphal progress had been effectually checked. The million of money
placed by Prince Theobald in the Bondavara Company had regained its
value. The prince had arranged with his creditors, and his affairs
were once more settled. She had been reconciled to him, and lived with
him. Countess Theudelinde likewise had recovered her rents. The great
family of Bondavary, which had been so near ruin, was reinstated in
its former position. And for its new lease of life it had to thank a
certain beneficent, clever--
Here Countess Angela's letter broke off. There was, however, a
postscript:
"Answer this letter. I beg for one word. Write 'I forgive you.'"
Ivan answered her immediately. He expressed his gratitude for her kind
remembrance of him, but he could not imagine what he had to forgive.
On the contrary, he had a lively recollection of the many kindnesses
he had received from the Countess Angela Salista.
The letter was evidently written with an effort to be cold and polite.
It was followed by a second letter from Angela, which ran thus:
"Do not answer me in that way. I have sinned against you. You do not
reproach me, but my own heart and conscience do. To quiet these
tormentors I need your pardon. Answer me sincerely. Can you ever
forgive me? I should not have treated you as I did--"
Ivan answered this by a long, confidential letter. He confessed to her
secrets of his heart, made to her confessions which never before
passed his lips. The countess might be confident that she had never
offended him. She had never forfeited the place she held in his
respect.
A third letter came from Angela.
"If you can do so from your heart, write upon a piece of paper,
'Angela Bondavary, I forgive you, from my heart.'"
Ivan wrote these words and nothing else.
* * * * *
One evening two carriages drove into the court-yard of Ivan's house.
He lived now in the handsome residence provided by the company for the
director of the mines. The porter exchanged some words with the person
who sat in the first carriage, and then came to Ivan with two
visiting-cards.
Ivan, to his surprise, read the names--
_Countess Theudelinde Bondavary._
_Countess Angela Bondavary._
These names caused a great disturbance in Ivan's mind. What did they
want? Why did they come to him? He told the porter to show the ladies
in, and then, taking up the cards again, it struck him as odd that
the Countess Angela's did not bear the name of her husband.
The door opened, and only one lady entered. She was dressed in
mourning, and her face was covered by a thick veil, the thick crape
concealing her features. It was the Countess Theudelinde. She had on a
long black travelling-cloak with two capes. She came to Ivan and held
out to him the finger-tips of her black glove, which he carried to his
lips, while she murmured some words of greeting.
"Where is the marquise?" asked Ivan, anxiously.
"She will be here immediately; but it is very difficult to bring her
in."
Ivan conducted the lady to a sofa and asked her to be seated.
"Do not go to meet her," continued the countess. "She will find her
way. You will receive her kindly, won't you?"
"Oh, countess," Ivan began; but Theudelinde interrupted impatiently.
"No phrases, please. We have not come here for polite words or to
exchange compliments. We come to make a request; the answer is simple.
Yes or no. Angela wants to remain here."
"Here!" repeated Ivan, horrified.
"Yes, here! Do not be afraid; not in this house, but in the
neighborhood. She wishes to remain near you--never to leave you--that
is her desire; and she has a right to have her wishes granted."
Ivan began to think he must be dreaming; he did not know what to say,
but his thoughts were distracted by a strange noise outside. Along the
passage came the heavy tread of several men. The door opened and four
miners came in, carrying between them a metal coffin, on the lid of
which lay a white wreath of _repoussé_ silver.
The wreath surrounded the arms of the Bondavary family, and underneath
was carved in gold letters--
ANGELA BONDAVARY.
The coffin was placed upon the oak table. Ivan stood as if he were
turned into a statue, his eyes fixed upon the wreath and the name
underneath.
Theudelinde got up and seized his hand, saying, in a low, agitated
voice:
"This is the Countess Angela Bondavary, who begs of you, as the master
here in Bondavara, to find for her a small place in the family vault
of the castle, where she may lie among her own people, waiting for the
coming of Jesus Christ--the Bridegroom of all poor women whose lives
have been desolated."
"How is it possible that she is dead?" said Ivan, who was deeply
moved.
"How? Very easily! When you throw a rose into the fire, in two minutes
you will only find its ashes. I had just heard her laugh; she was
quite gay. Then she went too near the stove; the next moment she
screamed, and I saw her enveloped in flames!"
"She was burned to death!" cried Ivan, covering his face with his
hands. Then, after a pause, "Was there no one near to save her?"
"Was there no one?" answered Theudelinde. "Were you, then, asleep at
midnight? Did you not hear her call, 'Ivan, help me!'? Did you not see
her standing beside your bed in flames--an angel with hell in her
heart? Why were you not by her side to hold her in your arms, to
stifle the flames, to snatch her from the jaws of death? Where were
you, who should have saved her? Now she is here, and says to you, 'I
am gone. I am no one. Let us be united.'"
Ivan felt as if an iron band had been laid upon his heart.
"She lived," continued Theudelinde, "for two days. She suffered the
most terrible pain. When I think of all she went through I feel as if
my senses were leaving me. To the last she was conscious. She spoke--
But no--why should I tell you what she said? Just before she died she
asked for a pencil, and wrote a few words to you. Here they are in
this envelope. Do not break the seal, do not read them, so long as I
am here. I would rather give you no explanation. If you have anything
to ask, ask it from her. Here is the key of the coffin; I give it to
you."
Ivan recoiled from receiving such a present.
"Why should you be afraid? Why do you object to opening the coffin?
There is nothing to fear. The body is embalmed, and the flames did not
touch her face. You will see that she smiles."
Ivan forced himself to raise the coffin-lid and to look on the face of
the dead. There was no smile on her lips. She was calm and cold; as
when she lay insensible in the wood, with her head upon a cushion of
moss, so now she lay upon her white satin cushion. Ivan felt that if
she could open her eyes for one minute she would look at him proudly
and say, "I want nothing," and close them again. How beautiful she
was, with her still, marble face, her immovable eyebrows. Ivan would
not disturb its calm loveliness by even one kiss. He would have felt
it to be dishonorable, and yet, if she could have come to life again,
who knows--? As on the day when he had closed her dress with his
breast-pin, so now he shrouded her secret with the coffin-lid. Her
secret was safe with him.
"Keep the key," said Theudelinde. "The coffin, its key, and the
treasure it holds are yours; that is settled. You are the master of
the vault; it is your duty to take her there. You cannot escape it."
With eyes that were hot and tearless, Theudelinde looked through her
veil at Ivan. He returned the glance. If either had shed a tear, or
even let a sob escape, both would have burst into passionate weeping,
for grief is infectious; but each one of them was resolved to show
mental strength in the presence of the other. They could even command
their emotions.
"Do you undertake the duty?"
Ivan bowed his head.
"Then you will perform it alone. Alive I shall never enter the family
vault. You know why."
Both were silent. Then Theudelinde burst out:
"Why was I not left in my castle? Why was I undeceived when I imagined
that my ancestors visited me? If I had not been shaken in my delusions
I should still have been happy. I should never have gone into the
world, where I have only found misery; Angela would not have come to
me; my brother Theobald would not have been ruined; hell would not
have been let loose in the Bondavara mines; I should have never known
you; all--all would have been different!" Then, after a pause, she
went on: "There is no need of a clergyman; there is no need of any
ceremony. You can say some prayers. You are a Protestant--so was
Angela. She became one that she might get a separation from her
unworthy husband. Let them carry the coffin quietly and reverently to
the family vault. There I shall leave you and it, for I shall not go
inside--never, until I am dead. You will put the coffin in its place,
and then I return whence I came, where I am wanted by no one."
Ivan called the miners to take the coffin again upon their shoulders,
and told them to carry it through the vestibule to the private door
which led into the park. The park separated the director's house from
the castle.
As they walked through the winding paths of the park the trees shed
their golden leaves upon the coffin and the titmice in the brushwood
chanted the dirge.
Ivan walked bareheaded behind the coffin, and behind him came Countess
Theudelinde.
When they reached the entrance of the vault Ivan told the bearers to
put the coffin down, and, kneeling down beside it, he remained for a
long time praying. God hears us if we speak to Him in a whisper; nay,
He hears us, even although we do not speak, but feel.
Theudelinde bent over Ivan and kissed his forehead.
"I thank you. You walked behind her with your head uncovered. Now she
is all yours." Then she returned by the winding path, as if she were
afraid that Ivan would make her take away what she had brought.
Ivan placed the coffin in its resting-place and sent away the bearers;
then he remained for many hours beside it. By the light of the torches
he read Angela's last words to him--
"For whom shall I wait on the shore of the new world?"
Ivan sighed deeply. "Who will wait for me on the shore of the new
world?"
* * * * *
Then he made his way back to the house. There was no trace of either
the countess's travelling carriage or Angela's hearse.