Rojanow fastened the strap which held his gun a little more securely,
and turned at once into a narrow, half overgrown path, which lay
unquestionably in the direction of Fürstenstein.
Without further parley he assumed the role of guide, and the adventure
began to have charms for him.
The stranger was certainly lovely enough to inspire him with zeal in her
service. The clear, delicate oval of her face, the high, smooth
forehead, with its heavy crown of blonde hair, the regular features,
were all in perfect harmony. The beauty of the countenance was
faultless, though cold and symmetrical, with an expression which
betokened energy of character and great strength of purpose. The girl
was at most only eighteen or nineteen years old, but oddly enough, she
possessed none of that indescribable attractiveness which seems the
natural accompaniment of girlhood, nothing of the hilarity and naiveté
of youth. The great blue eyes gazed at you earnestly but coldly, and you
felt instinctively that the soul which looked out through them never
lost itself in girlish dreams of brave heroes and suppliant lovers. The
bearing and appearance was haughty and reserved, yet in form and gesture
she was gracefulness itself.
Rojanow had time and leisure to notice all this as he directed her
course, sometimes behind her, sometimes in front, now holding back the
low, overhanging branches, and a second later warning her of some sudden
irregularity in the ground. The narrow forest footpath was anything but
a pleasant road for a ramble, and was an especially trying passage for
the woman. Her dress caught frequently on thorn and branch, and her long
gauze veil had to be loosened from more than one bramble, while her feet
sank, time and again, in the soft, moist, moss-covered earth. It could
not be helped, and yet Hartmut felt in his self assumed position as
guide, that he was not covering himself with as much glory as be could
have wished.
"I regret extremely, Fräulein, that you are obliged to take so
uncomfortable a path," he said politely. "I fear you will be exhausted,
but we are in the thickest part of the forest and have consequently no
choice."
"I do not become exhausted so easily," was the answer. "I care little
about the disagreeable features of the way, if it will but lead me to
the goal."
The remark had a somewhat unusual sound coming as it did from the mouth
of a young girl; Rojanow thought so, at any rate, and he gave a slight
mocking smile as he repeated:
"If it lead to the goal! You are quite right, that is my idea too; but
ladies generally cherish other opinions. They prefer to be carried
quietly over all the rough places."
"Not all! You err there; many women much prefer going alone, without
submitting to watch and ward, as though they were children."
"Well, perhaps there are exceptions. I prize the accident which has
afforded me the opportunity of seeing so charming--"
Hartmut, who was on the point of uttering a very florid compliment,
stopped suddenly, for the cold blue eyes met his with such a look of
surprise and hauteur that the words died on his lips.
At this moment the lady's veil caught once more in the branch of an
overhanging thorn, which held it fast. She stopped, and her attentive
companion reached out his hand to free the delicate tissue, when she
suddenly tore it from her hat, with a quick motion, and left it
fluttering on the branch.
Rojanow bit his lips in vexation; the adventure was not at all what he
had expected. He had thought to find this young woman a dependent, timid
creature, who would be very grateful and would turn to him for
protection, just like many another with whom he had come in contact in
his rovings; but this pale girl made it very clear to him by a glance,
that he was nothing but a guide and must conduct himself as such. Who,
and what was she? Still in her teens, and yet acting with all the
reserve and self-possession of a great lady, knowing full well how to
make herself unapproachable. He resolved to enlighten himself on this
matter.
Now the narrow path ended and they stepped out into a small clearing in
the forest, with thick woods again to the left. It was not an easy thing
just here for a man who knew nothing of the region to decide which
direction to take. But Hartmut was not to be daunted, neither did he
intend to exhibit any irresolution, so with apparent security he went on
in the same direction they had followed from the beginning, and
fortunately enough soon struck into a broad wagon road which crossed
that part of the forest. Before long, thought Hartmut, they must surely
come to some place where they could obtain a view of the surrounding
country and get their bearings.
The wider road enabled him to walk beside his companion, and he resolved
to enter upon a conversation which the many obstacles in their path had
made, until now, almost an impossibility.
"I have hesitated about presuming to present myself to you, Fräulein,"
he began. "My name is Rojanow, and I am, for the time being, at Rodeck,
a guest of Prince Adelsberg, who, if you reside at Fürstenstein, has the
advantage of being your neighbor."
"No, I do not belong to Fürstenstein. I am, also, only a guest," replied
the lady. The princely neighbor and name of her companion, appeared to
be alike matters of indifference to her; neither did she deem it
necessary to give her own name in return. She merely bowed slightly as
she spoke.
"Ah, then you probably live in the capital, and are only here to enjoy a
few weeks of the fine autumn weather?" continued Rojanow.
"Yes."
The monosyllable had a very cold, reserved sound, but Hartmut was not
the man to be turned from his course by a rebuff. He was accustomed to
overcome all restraints and obstructions by the power of his
fascinations, and that one of the sex from which he had never received
anything but adulation, should refuse to succumb, was little less than
an insult. There lay a charm, too, in the thought that he would force
this lovely creature into conversation with him, notwithstanding her
reserve.
"Are you pleased with Fürstenstein?" he asked. "I have never been near
the castle, and have only seen it in the distance, but it seems to
overawe the whole region with its magnificence. A singular taste indeed
to find anything lovely in this landscape, and erect a palace here."
"Evidently not your taste, at least."
"I am not specially fond of uniformity, and here there is nothing but
sameness. Woods and woods, and nothing but woods--at times one is almost
driven to despair."
There was a hidden rancour in these words, as if the poor German forest,
with its whispers and its winds was to blame for all the bitterness
which lay in the soul of this returned wanderer; it almost seemed as if
he must flee from them, for he could hardly endure the simple, earnest
song of olden times which fluttered down to him from the tall fir trees.
But his companion only heard the slighting tone.
"Are you a foreigner, Herr Rojanow?" she asked.
A black shadow crossed Hartmut's brow, and he hesitated for a moment
before he answered, coldly:
"Yes, Fräulein."
"I thought as much from your name and appearance, and from the peculiar
opinions which you express, as well."
"At any rate, they are unbiased and candid," answered Hartmut, nettled
by the reproof which lay in the last words. "I have been pretty much all
over the world, and am just back now from the Orient. To him who knows
the ocean with its radiant, transparent blue, or its terrible, deadly
storms, to one who has basked in the witcheries of the warmth and light
of the tropics, everything here seems cold and colorless; these eternal
green forests are, in fact, the only features of a German landscape."
The compassionate shrug of the shoulders with which he concluded,
appeared to rouse his companion from her imperturbability. An expression
of displeasure crossed her face, and her voice had in it a tone of
resentment, as she answered:
"That is altogether a matter of taste. I know, if not the Orient, at
least Southern Europe very well; those sunny, glowing landscapes, with
their vivid colorings attract one in the beginning--that is true
enough--but soon, too soon, exhaust one. You lose all strength and
vitality; you can stagnate and dream, but you can never live and work.
But why discuss it? Naturally you know nothing of our great forests, or
our people either, I presume."
Hartmut smiled with an unmistakable satisfaction. He had succeeded in
breaking through this icy reserve. All his arts and blandishments had
been exercised in vain, but he now saw that the momentary resentment had
added the charm which was needed to her lovely, cold features, so he
determined to arouse her still further.
If he felt aggrieved he would also find pleasure in exciting her.
"That sounds like a reproof which I shall have to bear," he said
derisively. "Possibly I don't view the affairs of life as you do. I am
accustomed to use other scales of measurement for nature, and for
mortals as well. 'Live and work!' The whole question hinges upon the
definition of these words. I have lived, years at a time, in Paris, that
great central point of all civilization, where life ebbs and flows in a
thousand streams. He who has been wont to stem the tide in these great,
almost overwhelming waters, can nevermore find a place in the little
relations, in the narrow judgments and pedantries, in all this marasmus
which the noble Germans call life."
The insulting expression which he laid upon the last words, obtained for
him his desire. His companion suddenly stood still and measured him from
head to foot, while a flash of anger shot from her cold blue eyes. She
seemed for the minute to have an angry answer at her tongue's end, but
she forced it back, and drawing herself up to her full height, said in a
tone of contempt and disdain:
"You forget, sir, that you are speaking to a German--I now remind you
of that fact."
Hartmut colored to the roots of his hair at this merited reproof given
to a stranger, a foreigner, as she supposed, who had forgotten himself.
What if this girl knew to whom she was talking, what if she ever learned
--a feeling of shame overcame him for the second, but he was a man of
the world and controlled himself once more.
"I beg your pardon," he said, with a slight, half-mocking bow. "I was
under the impression that we were merely exchanging impersonal opinions.
I sincerely regret having annoyed you, Fräulein."
A scarcely perceptible movement of her head, and a slight shrug of the
shoulders showed him that he had no power to really annoy her.
"I could certainly not think of influencing your judgments, but as our
ideas are so radically opposed, I think it would be better to drop the
conversation altogether."
Rajanow showed no disposition to continue it. Now he knew for a surety
that the cold eyes could sparkle and blaze with anger, he had forced
them to do it, but the thing had ended otherwise than he had expected.
He gave the slight figure at his side a half-inimical glance, and then
his eyes lost themselves again in the dense green of the forest.
There was something captivating after all about this forest loneliness
under the first light breath of autumn, a breath which touched the
leaves tenderly and laid such delicate tints upon them, brightening the
lovely landscape with its vivid reds and varied browns, with its
glimpses here and there of bright gold where the sunlight pierced the
woodland shade. The branches of the tall trees, centuries old, swayed
gently to and fro, and threw long, cool shadows across the occasional
open spaces, where the wild forest flowers rested on the breast of the
moss-covered earth. An occasional pool of water, lying silent and
placid, mirrored the clear, blue sky with its fleecy clouds, which
seemed to intermingle with the tall green branches, as both cast their
reflection in the water beneath. Only the soft rustling of the leaves,
and the hum of thousands of insects as they sang together a sweet,
dreamy forest song was to be heard. The very sunbeams seemed to echo
this melody as they followed closely the two wanderers, as if this man
and woman had come beneath their ban and would have some penalty to pay
for crossing their shining path so carelessly. Suddenly an unexpected
barrier stood in their way. From a thickly wooded elevation, a broad
mountain stream came rushing down, seeking its way between bushes and
rocks. Rojanow halted abruptly and cast a quick glance up and down, to
see if any means of crossing were to be found, but his eyes could
discover nothing, and turning to his companion, he said:
"I fear we are in an unpleasant situation here. This stream barricades
our path completely. Usually it is no hard matter to cross it, for those
mossy stones make a good enough bridge, but yesterday's heavy rain has
misplaced them or covered them completely."
The young lady had stopped, too, and was looking up and down the stream
also, for some crossing.
"Could we not cross farther up?" she asked, indicating a certain spot
above them.
"No, because the water is swifter and deeper in that direction. This is
the best place to get across. There is nothing to be done but to carry
you over, and that, with your permission, I will do."
The offer was made most courteously, almost hesitatingly, but there was
a gleam of triumph in Hartmut's eye, notwithstanding his modest
demeanor. This time she must accept his assistance, even if she had
left the veil hanging in the thorns rather than do so. There was no
choice now, she must trust herself in his arms in order to reach the
opposite shore. He came up to her now as if he took her consent for
granted, but she drew back.
"I thank you, Herr Rojanow." Hartmut smiled with an irony which he made
no attempt to conceal. He was master of the situation now, and thought
to remain so.
"Would you rather go around?" he asked. "It will take us more than an
hour and here we will be across in a minute or two. You need not doubt
the strength of my arms, and I am sure footed; it is not at all a
dangerous place to cross."
"I agree with you," was the quiet answer, "and for that reason I will
essay to cross it alone."
"Alone? That is impossible, Fräulein."
"To step through a forest brook? I do not consider that an especially
difficult achievement."
"But the water is deeper than you believe. You will be wet through and
through, and besides--it is really impossible."
"A wetting will do me no harm, for I do not take cold easily. Pray lead
the way and I will follow."
That was clear enough and sounded so peremptory that further
remonstrance was impossible. Hartmut bowed without speaking, and stepped
at once into the water, his high hunting boots serving him good purpose.
He was right enough, the water was deep and swift, and the stones were
so slippery that he found it difficult enough to set his foot firmly on
them. He had a slight sneer on his lips as he stepped upon the opposite
bank and turned to wait for the girl whom he was so anxious to protect,
but who rejected all his advances so proudly. Would she venture or would
the first step terrify her and force her to call him back? No, she had
gathered up her skirts and followed without hesitation, notwithstanding
the fact that her silk stockings and thin low shoes afforded no
protection whatever. She stepped slowly and carefully on the stones over
which he had just gone, until she came to the middle of the stream.
Here, while the strong man's foot had been able to find a safe resting
place, the woman's smaller one sought in vain for a secure support on
the slimy stones. Her high heels were as much in her way as her gown,
the edges of which were already thoroughly drenched. Her courage forsook
her for the moment, she made several false steps, then stood perfectly
quiet and cast an involuntary glance toward the opposite bank, where
Hartmut stood watching her in silence, resolved to raise no hand toward
her assistance until requested to do so. Perhaps she read this in his
eyes and it gave her back her strength. With a look of decision on her
face she gave up all further search for a secure stepping stone, and
planted her foot firmly on the pebbly bottom of the stream, and a second
later, thoroughly wet now, she clutched the low bough of a tree in
preference to Hartmut's outstretched hand, and drew herself up on the
further bank. Then turning with dripping garments, to her guide, said:
"We will go on, if you please. We cannot be very far from Fürstenstein."
Hartmut gave no syllable of reply, but a feeling akin to hate rose
within him as he looked at this woman who preferred such great
discomfort rather than come into closer contact with him even for a
moment.
This proud, spoiled man whose dazzling personality won all hearts, felt
the humiliation which had been forced upon him most keenly, and
execrated within himself the chance which had brought about this
meeting.
They went on as rapidly as possible now, and Hartmut cast a glance, from
time to time, at the slender, silent figure with its heavy bedraggled
skirts, the drippings from which marked their course by a long line of
moisture. He kept an attentive eye on the woods on either side; this
dark forest road must come to an end some time.
His course had been the right one after all, which at least was some
slight satisfaction to him. After a few minutes he came to an elevation
which afforded him a view of the region round about. Yonder, across a
sea of forest trees, rose the towers of Fürstenstein, and at the foot of
the hill on which he stood a broad carriage road was plainly visible,
and this road, winding through a part of the forest, led directly to the
foot of the castle hill.
"Yonder is Fürstenstein," said he, as he turned and spoke to the young
girl for the first time since they had left the stream. "It is about
half an hour's walk from here, though."
"O, that is nothing. I am grateful to you for guiding me so
successfully, but the way is very plain now, and I will trouble you no
longer."
"I am subject to your orders," said Hartmut coldly. "If you desire to
dismiss your guide so summarily, he will no longer force himself upon
you."
The lady felt the reproof implied in his words. After a man had spent a
couple of hours in her service, he did deserve something more than a
contemptuous dismissal, even though she had found it necessary to keep
him at a distance.
"I have taken too much of your time already," she said, unbending a
little. "You have introduced yourself to me, Herr Rojanow, and I must,
in return, tell you my name before I say good morning--Adelheid von
Wallmoden." Hartmut drew a short breath, and a fleeting red colored his
face as he repeated, slowly:
"Wallmoden!"
"Are you familiar with the name?"
"I have heard it, but not here, in--in North Germany."
"Very probable; that is my husband's home, and mine, too."
Rojanow's face showed extreme surprise as he heard this young girl, whom
he had taken as a matter of course, for unmarried, speak in so
matter-of-fact a tone about her husband, but he bowed, and said most
courteously:
"I beg your pardon, my dear madame, for mistaking you for a girl, but I
could not know you were married. And I now know that I have never had
the honor of meeting your husband. The only one of the name with whom I
was ever familiar, was a gentleman now past middle life. He belonged to
the diplomatic service, and his name, if I do not mistake, was Herbert
von Wallmoden."
"That is my husband, and he is at present ambassador to this country. He
will be looking anxiously for me now, so I must not linger a moment
longer. Again let me thank you, Herr Rojanow." And with a bow of adieu,
the lady hurried down the hill toward the carriage road.
Hartmut stood looking after her, like one in a maze; heavy beads of
perspiration stood out on his forehead. So soon? He had scarcely set
foot on German soil, and here he was met at once by the old names and
all the painful memories which their mention entailed.
Herbert von Wallmoden, Frau von Eschenhagen's brother, Willibald's
guardian and his own boyhood's friend. Rojanow felt a sharp cut like a
dagger thrust through his breast. He drew himself up and threw his
shoulders back, as though he would throw from him some overwhelming
burden, and the old bitter, mocking smile came to his lips again, as he
said, half aloud:
"Uncle Wallmoden hasn't wasted any of his opportunities, that's evident.
His hair's gray by this time, but it hasn't prevented him winning a
lovely young wife. To be sure, an ambassador is a fine match, and it is
evident that Adelheid von Wallmoden was born to marry such a man. She
has all the aristocratic airs and manners which are the one thing
needful in the diplomatic circle. Doubtless he's had her well trained to
take her place in the diplomatic school. Well, he's fared well in this
world, there's no doubt of that."
His eyes followed the young wife, who had just reached the foot of the
hill, and a deep scowl settled on his brow.
"If I meet Wallmoden here, and perhaps I won't be able to avoid it,
he'll recognize me without a doubt. Then he'll tell her all about it,
and if she ever sees me again, and gives me one of her contemptuous
glances, I'll--" He stamped his foot on the ground with fury at the
thought, and then gave a bitter laugh.
"Pah! What need I care? What does this pale, blue-eyed creature, with
her cold blood, know of freedom, of the throes of passion, of the storms
which come to some lives? Let her pronounce sentence on me. Why should I
shun a meeting? I will face her and bid her beware."
And with a haughty movement of his head he turned his back on the
slender figure, and strode back again into the woods.