By the afternoon, preparations for the evening greatly increased the
noise and confusion. The families of rank from the neighbouring estates
arrived, and apartments had to be assigned them. Trunks filled with
costumes were brought from town: the performers were to dress in the
villa. Barbers and milliners came and went, and through it all the
gardeners were bringing palms, orange-trees, and tropical plants from
the conservatories.
In spite of all the noise and bustle that could be heard in her room,
Henriette had fallen into what seemed a refreshing slumber. In the
adjoining dressing-room sat Nanni, sewing spangles upon a cloud of gauze
that was wanted by the decorators of the stage below-stairs. Kitty
softly opened the door, and, bidding the girl pay special heed to her
sleeping mistress until her return, she left the room and went
downstairs to go to the mill, where she still had some arrangements to
make.
She avoided the large hall,--it was swarming with people, coming and
going,--and turned into the passage beside the ballroom. It was
quieter, but at the low door at the end of it leading into the open air
stood the councillor, a straw hat on his head, apparently about to go to
the tower. He was instructing Anton, his servant, who lodged in the
tower, with regard to commissions which he was going to town to fulfil.
"Take time enough," he called after him; "I shall not dress before six
o'clock."
Kitty walked slowly on along the corridor in hopes he would now leave
the door and go into the park, but he thrust his hands mechanically into
the pockets of his light coat and stood still. He was standing on the
topmost of three or four steps, and the view obtained thence of a
considerable portion of his beautiful domain apparently delayed his
descent. Perhaps he had never before so enjoyed this view in all its
wondrous beauty, when the rosy light of the charming afternoon invested
it with a tender splendour. The movement of his head showed that his
gaze was wandering hither and thither, but the young girl also saw that
he was trembling with profound, suppressed emotion, as with his right
hand he suddenly covered his eyes. He must have been struggling with the
illness of which he had spoken, and which he was determined should not
disturb the evening's festivities.
She walked more quickly and with less caution, and he turned hastily at
the sound of her approach.
"Is your headache worse?" she asked, kindly.
"Yes; and I have just had a slight attack of giddiness," he answered, in
an uncertain voice, as he pulled his hat down over his eyes. "No
wonder! If I had had the least idea of the thousand annoyances
inseparable from this ball I never would have given it," he added, more
calmly, although his manner was not natural. "Those stupid workmen have
made all kinds of mistakes in my absence; they did not understand my
ideas, and what they had been hammering away at for a week had to be
pulled down and put up again in twelve hours. That is why this bustle
and noise must go on until the very moment when the curtain rises."
He descended the steps slowly and cautiously, as if everything were
again swimming before him.
"Shall I go back and get you a glass of Seltzer-water?" she asked, as
she stood in the door-way; "or would it not be better to send for the
doctor?"
"No, thank you, Kitty," he replied, in a strangely gentle tone, and his
moistened glance rested lingeringly upon the girl who had expressed such
kind anxiety, "And indeed you are mistaken if you think Bruck is to be
had so easily. He is overwhelmed with practice; I believe he will have
to be sent for to leave some sick-bed to come to his very marriage, the
day after to-morrow." A sarcastic smile flitted across his face. "My
best remedy is, I know," he instantly added, "my vaults in the tower. I
am just going there to select the wine for this evening; the air in
those cellars will act like a cooling bandage."
Kitty arranged her hat upon her head and came out upon the door-steps.
"And you are going to the mill? No farther, I hope?" he said, looking
at his watch. It was a simple question, and negligently uttered, and
yet it seemed to Kitty that he caught his breath as he asked it.
Descending the steps, she told him her errand to the mill, and then,
nodding a farewell, she crossed the road while the councillor turned
towards the tower. Behind the first group of shrubs, she turned and
looked after him; he was surely suffering more than he would admit. His
knees seemed to tremble beneath him; he had thrust back the hat from his
forehead as if his brow were burning, and his eyes were wandering
aimlessly over the park.
Suddenly her temples throbbed; a vague terror assailed her. That sick
man tottering so uncertainly alone in the tower-cellar! Like some
fever-bred phantom, the horrible thought that had shocked her once
before in sight of the tower again occurred to her. "I pray you,
Moritz, be careful with the light," she cried anxiously after him.
He might have been deep in thought, or perhaps his nerves were in that
unusually irritable state when a loud voice sufficed to terrify; he
started as if struck by a shot.
"What do you mean by that?" he called back, hoarsely. "Are you seeing
ghosts by daylight, Kitty?" he instantly added, with a burst of laughter
that mortified his ward, as he vanished among the trees, waving his hand
and holding himself erect.
Scarcely half an hour later, Kitty was walking along the river-bank.
Her errand to the mill accomplished, she found she had time to snatch
one sweet, stolen glance at the house by the river. How her heart beat
as she saw the weather-cock on the roof gleaming in the sunlight through
the quivering birch-leaves! How she started at the crunching of the
gravel on the path beneath her tread! She came like an exile to have
one last look of a beloved country. She leaned against the trunk of the
poplar that stood by the bridge, whence she had stamped that last scene
so ineffaceably on her memory,--the peeping children, their heads
showing against the brilliant landscape beyond as upon a golden
background, the strong stern man by the garden-table seeming crushed by
some inexplicable emotion.
All was quiet now in the shaded garden. The trees, then in all the
pride of spring, were now bending with the load of bright-coloured fruit
that filled the air with its fragrance, and the trellis was hardly seen
beneath its purple load. Only one shy glimpse towards the corner
window, where stood the doctor's writing-table. He was not at home; he
was hastening from one bedside to another, driven by professional cares.
And he no longer occupied that room. White muslin curtains adorned the
window; upon the sill, among the pots of Alpine violets in full bloom,
lay a snow-white kitten, and two knitting hands and a woman's head
crowned with snowy hair beneath a muslin fichu could be distinguished
there; the Frau Dean's old friend was already established. He too had
burned his ships behind him; he was ready to go, and the day after the
morrow, the "last moment" would come, when her proud, heartless sister
would stand beside him in glistening white satin, to become mistress of
the mansion to a man of note. Had she once struggled as bitterly--that
fair young dame of by-gone days--as did the girl who now, in a burst of
tears, clasped her arms about the poplar's slender stem and pressed her
brow painfully against the rough, hard bark? She of the legend had once
been loved, if deserted at last; no blame could be attached to her; but
here an evil jealousy was gnawing at the heart of one unloved, and she
whom she envied was--her own sister.
A loud footfall behind her made her look around. Franz the miller, with
an iron crowbar over his shoulder, was passing by, to look after the
upper weir, he said. His presence sent the blood to her cheeks and
scared her from her post of observation. While Franz hurried on she
walked slowly along the bank of the stream. She could not yet make up
her mind to return to the villa; her toilette for the evening would be
completed long before Henriette, who was determined to be present at the
fete, had half finished the adornments which were to make the ravages of
disease less conspicuous.
The solitude here was so delicious; there was no one to see how red her
eyes were, or how angrily her wayward heart was battling with the sinful
desires that had urged her hither,--yes, they had been the cause of her
coming. She would not spare herself or lie to her own soul! She had
not come to see the quiet house, and the dear old friend whose home it
was, and she had not been sure that he was not there. She had
hoped--what? And when another face than his had appeared at the window
the whole place had been to her lonely and deserted.
Franz had vanished in the distance. She was approaching the ruin. The
circle of water about it glistened, and through the shrubbery she could
see the graceful bridge spanning the ditch. At the moment a man was
crossing it from the tower. A thick reddish beard covered the lower part
of his face; he wore a labourer's blouse, and was driving two roes
before him with his stick. They leaped across the bridge and fled into
the recesses of the park.
Kitty would have paid the man no especial attention--workmen were
continually employed in and about the tower--if his conduct had not
seemed strange to her. The councillor was very fond of these roes; he
was provoked when they strayed into the park, and here this stranger was
intentionally chasing them across the ditch! Was he one of the
discontented crowd of factory-hands who envied the rich man and wrought
mischief to his possessions whenever they could? He turned into a path
leading through the park-gates out upon the high-road; she followed him
with her eyes until he was lost in the thicket. The resemblance was
wonderful! In his carriage and height, in his whole make, indeed, the
man in the blouse might have been the councillor's twin brother.
She stood involuntarily rooted to the spot, looking towards the tower
whence he had come. How charmingly the landscape here harmonized with
the structure! How well the modern architect had known how to spare and
now to efface so as to weave about the old ruin a romantic charm!
Silence reigned again; no sound was heard but the faint flapping of the
doves' wings; those graceful sailors of the air were floating in the
crimson evening light, slipping through the interstices of the mural
crown of the tower as it showed clear against the western sky--No, it
was no mural crown! in a flash it was a burning crater, vomiting forth
with a noise like thunder a cloud of pitchy vapour into the serene
skies. The ground seemed to be torn from beneath the girl's feet. She
was dashed to the earth and in an instant immersed in the cool waters of
the fosse.
What was it? Every one came running from the villa to take refuge in
the garden. The house tottered from foundation to roof-tree. An
earthquake? As if bereft of all sense, the members of the household
stood still in the open air as though expecting to see the earth yawn at
their feet. Little rills of water were trickling through the grass of
the lawn. The air began to be filled with smoke, and to scatter
everywhere on the gravel walks particles of burned material. The panes
of plate-glass in the windows were broken; and in the ball-room the huge
mirror stretching from floor to ceiling lay shattered into a thousand
pieces, the silk and velvet draperies had dropped from their fastenings
around the stage, and the workmen had with difficulty escaped injury
from the falling framework.
Passers-by rushed in from the road, among them Anton, who was just
returning from town. "There! there!" they cried to the Frau President,
who was leaning half fainting upon Flora's arm, and as they spoke they
pointed to the distant portion of the park. There was a fire in that
direction, and huge volumes of smoke were pouring upwards so thickly
that the sparks showed in its pitchy blackness like rockets in a dark
night.
"The powder in the tower has exploded!" a voice cried from the midst of
the throng.
"Nonsense!" Anton replied, with an attempt at a laugh, although his
teeth were chattering in his head with terror. "That old stuff has long
been past exploding, and the few pinches of fresh which the Herr
Councillor had stored there in jest could not have stirred a tile from
its place."
Nevertheless he ran wildly in the direction of the tower across the
flooded lawn,--he knew his master had gone thither. The crowd followed
him, whilst the fire-alarm from the neighbouring town began to toll.
What had become, in a moment almost too brief to suffice for one human
breath, of the Eden which wealth and luxury had evoked from the ruins of
knightly splendour? When the black vapour darkened the heavens there
had burst into air the infernal force as if from some subterranean
fountain; huge masses of granite had been tossed forth to lie here and
there half buried in the soft sod of the lawn, having broken strong
trees like reeds in their descent, while towards the south the new
conservatory stood like a sieve of glass, each splinter sparkling and
gleaming in the evening light. There must have been a perfect hailstorm
of stones poured upon it, thus to shatter the exquisite toy, so lately
the admiration of the capital.
It was indeed a sight to horrify the breathless crowd as they emerged
from the shrubbery that had partially concealed the extent of the
disaster. Had the ghostly ancestress of the Baumgartens indeed lighted
the train to put an end to the farce which the modern parvenu was
playing above the hoary ruins of the home of her race? Those builders
of old must have cemented their walls with iron. The upper portion of
the tower, with its machicolated summit, was indeed scattered to all the
four winds of heaven, but of the lower and more ancient building only
the smaller part had been destroyed; it lay in huge masses near the
fosse, whilst the rest still stood threateningly erect in air, and from
its depths the yellow flames ascended, greedily devouring every particle
of wood or inflammable material within.
"My poor master!" Anton groaned, stretching his arms in despair across
the ditch, the waters of which had been raised from their bed by the
force of the explosion to flow here and there over the park. They were
now pouring back again, and dashing once more upon their accustomed way,
carrying with them gravel, grass, and the bleeding bodies of slain doves
and rooks. The pretty arches of the bridge had vanished, the green
artificial hill was seamed by huge rifts, and the old chestnuts which it
had nourished were thrust forth from its bosom to lie stretched on the
ground, their boughs interlaced like the horns of deer dead in mortal
conflict.
Of what use were the crowds of men hurrying hither with their
fire-engines? There was nothing to save. Where in that glowing crater
could be found the costly furniture, the famous collection of ancient
tankards, the pictures, statuary, ivory carvings, and rich carpets? As
if in ghastly mockery, a crimson silk curtain that had floated uninjured
from one of the windows was still hanging from a fragment of stone sill
down over the remains of the outer wall, like a stream of blood flowing
from some terrible wound.
And among the crowd there ran whispers of the piles of gold and
silver--or no, papers, bundles of papers, representing incalculable
sums, factories, mines, landed property,--all of which the old tower,
with its mighty walls, its impregnable locks, and its fosse, had guarded
like a dragon. Where were they now? Where were the sheets of iron that
had imprisoned them? Had the safes fallen undestroyed into the vaults
of the cellar, to await there a future resurrection in defiance of the
flames?
And what had become of him,--of the man who, as Anton declared, had gone
to the tower an hour before to select the wine for the evening's
entertainment? All gazed helplessly at the flaming mass, while the
faithful servant ran to and fro on the bank of the ditch, wringing his
hands, and shouting his master's name across the water. It had been
inconceivable folly to keep the powder there where an unguarded lamp was
so frequently used.
"The old historic powder has had nothing to do with this. Some very
different explosive material has been at work here," a loud voice said
from the crowd. The speaker was an engineer, and had been passing by
the villa at the moment of the catastrophe.
"But how came anything else in the cellar?" Anton stammered, standing
still, and looking at the speaker with wonder and inquiry.
The man shrugged his shoulders with a meaning look, and, turning, was
lost in the crowd, whilst the engines did their work.
As long as the fire raged, the jets of water hissed upon the flames, the
alarm-bell tolled unceasingly, firemen brought planks and poles from the
villa to construct some kind of a bridge over the fosse, and the noise
and confusion increased from moment to moment. In the midst of it all,
a piercing shriek was heard at some distance; on the path leading to the
upper weir Franz the miller had been found; a heavy stone had prostrated
him and crushed in his chest; the man was dead.
This shriek, uttered by his wife as she threw herself upon the body,
seemed re-echoed from all parts of the park it was so resounded with
cries from hundreds of throats.
"Moritz,--they have found him!" the Frau President murmured, with a
start. She had sunk down upon a garden-seat not far from the
house,--her feet refused to carry her farther. She now made an effort
to rise; in vain! The infirmity of age, hitherto so resolutely ignored,
asserted itself at this moment of nervous agitation. "Have they found
him? Is he dead? Dead?" she stammered, incoherently, her eyes, usually
so coldly calm, staring wildly in the direction of the ruin, whilst she
clutched the arm of Flora, who was standing beside her.
The beautiful woman alone preserved her composure. There above the
trees the thick vapour rolled lazily and heavily upwards, painting the
heavens far and near in dull ashen gray, and here before the house, with
its shattered window-panes, the orange-trees were overturned upon the
lawn, where the water trickled and flowed in little rills, to gather in
pools in the deep furrows cut by the fire-engines. The air was filled
with wild outcries, crowds of people were rushing past each moment from
the town, and in the midst of this desolation stood a lovely woman, clad
in white, with marguerites on her breast and in her fair curls, pale to
the lips, but collected and self-assured in her demeanor,--a being set
apart from all personal misfortune.
"If you would only loosen your hold of my arm, grandmamma," she said,
impatiently, "I might possibly convince you that you are needlessly
alarmed. Why must Moritz have perished? Pshaw! Moritz, with his
constant good fortune! I am perfectly sure that he is there in the
midst of the crowd, safe and sound, and those stupid servants, who, by
the way, pay us no attention, except to shout out some unintelligible
nonsense in passing, are so frightened that they do not know their own
master when they see him." She looked down at the wet sod, and then at
her white boot that peeped forth from beneath the flounces of her muslin
dress. "One would say I too had lost my senses," she continued, with a
shrug, "but I must go and see----"
"No, no, you must stay here!" cried the Frau President, grasping the
skirt of white muslin. "You will not leave me alone with Henriette, who
is still more helpless than I, and is of no use to me? Oh, God, I shall
die! If he should be dead, if--what then?" Her head sank upon her
breast, that gleamed with diamonds; she looked old and infirm, and her
form seemed bent and shrunken in the stiff folds of her yellow moire
dress.
Henriette crouched upon the seat beside her, ashy pale, with wide,
terrified eyes. "Kitty! Where can Kitty be?" she repeated to herself
with trembling lips, as if it were a sentence she were learning by rote.
"God in heaven grant me patience!" Flora muttered between her teeth.
"Such weakness is terrible. Why in the world, Henriette, are you
continually asking for Kitty? No one means to take her from you!"
She looked impatiently towards the house, but no one was to be seen who
could relieve her of her charge; every one had gone to the ruins,--the
newly-arrived guests, the footmen, the servants from the kitchen; even
the neatly-shod ladies' maids had run through the wet towards the scene
of the disaster. But aid approached from town in the persons of the
amateur performers, who came breathlessly round the corner of the house.
"For heaven's sake, tell us what is the matter!" cried Fraeulein von
Giese, rushing up to the lonely group of women.
Flora shrugged her shoulders. "We know nothing more than that there has
been an explosion in the tower. Every one runs past us; no one answers
our questions; and I cannot stir from the spot, because grandmamma has
lost her head, and in her agitation is positively tearing the clothes
off my back. She imagines that Moritz is killed."
The young girls stood as if turned to stone at this horrible idea,--the
strong, handsome man who only a few hours before had emptied his glass
to the "delights of life" already perished in the flames or crushed to
atoms! It could not be. "Impossible!" exclaimed Fraeulein von Giese.
"Impossible?" the Frau President repeated, with a mingling of sobs and
wild laughter: she had struggled to her feet, but she tottered like a
drunken man as she pointed a trembling finger towards the nearest grove.
"There--they are bringing him! My God! Moritz, Moritz!"
In solemn silence an object was being borne along, and within the circle
of those who were accompanying it walked Doctor Bruck, without his hat,
his tall figure towering above the rest. Flora flew towards him, whilst
the Frau President burst into a fit of convulsive weeping. At sight of
the lovely commanding figure the group involuntarily parted. Flora gave
one hasty glance at the form extended upon a litter, and instantly
turned back to say soothingly, "Be calm, grandmamma! It is not
Moritz----
"It is Kitty,--I knew it," Henriette murmured hoarsely, in a voice that
was half sob, half whisper, as she staggered across to where the bearers
had put down their burden for a minute to take breath.
The poor girl lay upon the old-fashioned couch from the doctor's study.
Her dress hanging over its side was dripping with moisture. Soft
pillows were beneath her back and head; with her eyelids so gently
closed and her hands resting so calmly upon her breast, one might have
imagined her sleeping, but for the bandage above her brow and the blood
trickling down her cheek.
"What has happened to Kitty, Leo? What was she doing near the ruin?"
Flora asked, approaching the couch, both in tone and in manner
displaying more irritation at her sister's supposed forwardness than
terror at what had happened.
At her previous remark, intended to soothe her grandmother, the doctor
had turned in sudden anger; now he seemed not to hear her speaking, so
firmly closed were his lips, so stolid was the look which passed her by
to rest with interest upon Henriette.
The poor invalid stood before him gasping for breath, looking up to him
with eyes dimmed with tears. "Only one word, Leo; is she alive?" she
stammered, raising her hands clasped in entreaty.
"Yes; the concussion and loss of blood have stunned her; the only danger
at present to be apprehended is from her wet clothes. The wound on her
temple is trifling, thank God!" he answered in vibrating tones, which
seemed to come from the depths of his heart, while with all a brother's
tenderness he put his left arm around the frail form that could hardly
stand upright. "Go on," he said to the bearers, with evident anxiety
and impatience.
The accompanying crowd dispersed; there was no danger here, and most of
them returned to the ruin. The couch was carried on towards the house,
past the Frau President, who gazed at the unconscious form as if bereft
of all capacity to understand and appreciate. The group of horrified
girls stood huddled together, looking helplessly towards the young
physician who walked beside the couch without noticing them. He kept
his left arm around Henriette's waist; his right hand he had laid
lightly upon Kitty's brow, as if to shield her from any shock if
consciousness should return. He who was usually so reserved, who so
carefully concealed all emotion, the man whom of late all had seen so
gloomy and constrained, was now looking down with unconcealed tenderness
upon the pale face lying upon the pillows, as if nothing existed for him
in the world except this most sacred and dear treasure which he had just
snatched from the grave.
Flora followed the silent group apart, as if bound by no tie to the
three people whom misfortune had suddenly shown to be so closely allied.
On the spot where the bearers had rested the water was standing in
little pools; she walked through them not heeding the wet, and her long
muslin train dragged damp and dirty over the gravelled path. Suddenly
she tore the wreath of marguerites from her hair; it was a bitter
mockery in the midst of all this horror; she plucked and pulled it to
pieces mechanically as she walked along, and the little white stars lay
scattered upon the ground over which she had passed.
She too passed her grandmother and her friends without heeding them.
Her flashing glance rested immovably upon her lover's tall, commanding
figure; evidently she momentarily expected that he would turn to her,
and thus she followed him step by step to the house and across its
threshold. The Frau President called after her; the earth was shaken by
another loud crash from the ruins, followed by shouts and cries. She
did not look round; the world might be dissolved behind her; she was
inexorably resolved to assert her "rights."