For years nothing had excited such universal interest and sympathy in
the capital as the explosion in the tower, to which not only the
Councillor, but also Franz the miller, had fallen a victim.
Two days had passed since the catastrophe, and in these forty-eight
hours the horror and grief occasioned by the death of the millionaire
had gradually been replaced by dark reports, alarming the business
world, and carrying dismay among the labouring classes. The rich man's
name, it was said, represented upon various books many thousands of
indebtedness. The councillor had undertaken all the improvements upon
his Baumgarten estate at the same time, and consequently only a small
portion of their cost had been defrayed. The statement made upon the
spot immediately after the explosion by the engineer, and afterwards
confirmed by others, began to be widely circulated, and Von Roemer's
debtors asked one another anxiously how the explosive material came to
be in the vault just below the chamber containing all his bonds and
securities. They did not wait long for a reply. Confidential letters
from Berlin, where news of the councillor's terrible death had not yet
been received, spoke of immense losses which he must have sustained from
the failures in quick succession of various houses there. He had indeed
understood as few speculators ever had done how to keep his confidential
business friends in ignorance of his money transactions; even the former
book-keeper of the factory, whom after its sale he had retained as his
private secretary, had no knowledge of his affairs. He had also been
able so to dazzle the eyes of those with whom he had dealings by the
splendour of the golden cloud in which he enveloped himself, that the
dark side of his schemes and speculations never was evident to them.
And thus, in spite of these revelations as to his losses, his fate might
always have been bewailed as a result of his antiquarian love for the
historic powder in the ruins, had he not made the mistake of selecting
for his instrument of destruction a modern explosive material. This was
the rent in the curtain which let in the light of reality upon the
corpse, as Flora had said.
While the town was thus being prepared for the avalanche of ruin which
must ensue, certain changes were taking place in the house of mourning.
On the first day crowds of friends had hastened to offer their sympathy,
and, although every one stepped softly and spoke in whispers, there had
ensued in consequence a certain noise and bustle. The second day on the
contrary was marked by a profound and gloomy silence, which reigned
below- and above-stairs,--all the more oppressive since in most of the
rooms the shutters were closed behind the broken panes of glass, causing
a vague, uncertain twilight. The Frau President did not yet dream that a
second shock was to follow the terrible event in the ruin; all her
thoughts were occupied with speculations as to the amount of the immense
fortune left by the unfortunate man, and the heir to whom it would fall.
With all the egotism of old age her mind had already ceased to dwell
upon the dead man himself. The selfishness that animated alike the
grandmother and her eldest granddaughter had never been so evident as in
this time of trial.
Immediately after her interview with the doctor, Flora had briefly
informed the Frau President that her engagement was broken off, without
assigning any reason for the fact, and the old lady had shown no
curiosity upon the subject, merely rousing herself from her
self-absorption for a moment to listen, and then shrugging her shoulders
by way of reply. This change in her granddaughter's prospects appeared
to her of but small consequence compared with the tragedy which
threatened to plunge an aristocratic, high-born woman from a position of
princely luxury into all the horrors of straitened circumstances. Flora
then withdrew to her own room, and under the pretence of a violent
headache denied herself to visitors, spending her time in packing and
arranging her effects.
In the servants' hall the day which had been so long looked forward to
as the wedding-day was marked by a confusion and subversion of all
custom and order, such as only sudden preparations for departure can
produce. The reports current in the town had fallen among the crowd of
domestics and hangers-on like a bomb-shell, all the more terrifying
since some among them on the morning after the disaster had hazarded a
suspicion that "matters might not be quite straight." They hourly
expected the officers of the law to make their appearance; each one
looked out for himself or herself; the long tables set for the ball were
stripped of everything eatable, and the bowls of punch were drained to
the dregs.
From these regions the first intimation came to the Frau President Urach
that her rule in Villa Baumgarten was considered by others as at an end;
whereas formerly her first touch upon her bell had been answered
instantly, she was now obliged to ring repeatedly--yes, even to
call--before her orders were sullenly obeyed. She could hear too how
her lap-dog, once caressed by the servants as their mistress's pet,
yelped under many a kick slyly administered, while eyes that had been
wont to be cast down respectfully in her presence now stared her boldly
in the face.
The inmates on the third floor of the villa knew nothing of this changed
demeanour on the part of the servants. Henriette had always been kind
and considerate; the men and maids had regarded the poor invalid as
doomed to death; they had been used to walk on tiptoe in her presence,
and to speak in whispers; and in this respect they now redoubled their
efforts, since "the Herr Hofrath" had told them that her state at
present was critical.
Yes, she lay in her bedroom, scarcely to be recognized except for her
marvellously beautiful blue eyes, resigning at last willingly and
without a pang her frail weary frame to the dark power that had dogged
her footsteps for so many years. She was perfectly conscious that she
was dying, and had put away from her with loathing all the gaudy colours
with which she had always seemed to hope to borrow a show of youth and
health. As if in a snow-drift, she reclined among spotless linen,
shaded by soft muslin curtains. She was to be spared the pain of being
turned away from her home to seek, according to Flora's arrangement, a
refuge in the castle mill. She would be gone before the law in the name
of hundreds of anxious creditors laid its hand upon the remains of the
fabulous wealth which had been dispersed upon the winds; she was to
depart before hearing her brother-in-law's memory branded with disgrace
and crime,--his terrible end had loosened her last weak hold upon earth.
And her ardent desire was fulfilled: her beloved physician watched over
her to her latest breath; he promised that he would remain with her and
not go to L---- until she was "much better." Once more she was as happy
as she had been in the house by the river; Doctor Bruck watched over
her, and Kitty was his aid.--the two people whom she loved most in the
world.
Kitty recovered very quickly, leaving her bed on the afternoon of the
second day. She wore a narrow bandage about her brow, and the heavy
braids of hair, too massive to be worn around her head for the present,
hung down her back; but this was all the change that could remind one
that the terrible explosion had hurled her to the ground and overwhelmed
her with the waters of the fosse, where she must have perished if loving
eyes had not sought and loving hands rescued her. Her bearing was as
energetic and assured as ever, whatever tempests might assail her soul.
In addition to her profound sorrow for her dying sister and Roemer's
tragic fate, the certainty forced itself upon her mind that her guardian
was not without blame in what had occurred; Doctor Bruck, to whom she
had hinted her fears, had said not one word to contradict them. He was
as quiet and taciturn as ever. This might well be the result of
Henriette's condition, but there was a peculiar solemnity in his
reserve, which seemed also to have infected the dean's widow.
The old lady on the afternoon of the first day had issued from the room
adjoining Henriette's, where she had had an interview with the doctor,
her eyes full of tears, but evidently agitated by pleased surprise. She
had then taken her leave to superintend the removal of various articles
of furniture from her home to the doctor's town-house, where she was to
take up her abode with her friend until the repairs in the house by the
river should be concluded. She came to the villa from time to time to
see Henriette for a few moments, always avoiding any meeting with Flora.
The beautiful woman had only come up-stairs once to see Henriette, just
at the time when Doctor Bruck had obeyed an urgent request for his
presence from the prince. It was strange that she should pass through
the room where Kitty lay without even a glance towards the wounded girl,
who lifted her head to address her. She left Henriette's bedside and
went down to her own apartments without again entering the adjoining
room, and Nanni reported that Fraeulein Flora was preparing shortly to
leave the house.
Once or twice during the day the Frau President ascended the stairs, a
cloud of black crape around her gray head, her countenance troubled, and
utterly bereft of that proud composure the maintenance of which in times
of trial she had always asserted to be the distinguishing characteristic
of a well-balanced mind. She could do nothing but weep and wring her
hands convulsively at the terrible change that one moment had made in
the villa and its inmates. The exhausted invalid always breathed more
freely when the door closed upon the melancholy figure shrouded in
black.
On the morning of the third day after the explosion, the old lady
suddenly opened the door of Flora's study and tottered across the
threshold, holding in her hand a newspaper. Flora was busy writing
tickets for her various trunks and packages; she arose, with a
foreboding of what was to come, and approached her grandmother, who had
sunk into an armchair.
"My four thousand thalers!" she moaned. "Child, child, I have been
robbed by scoundrels of my little all, the miserable pittance left me by
my grandfather! My four thousand thalers which I guarded like the apple
of my eye----"
"No, grandmamma, tell the truth,--your four thousand thalers which you
foolishly risked!" Flora interrupted her, harshly. "I warned you, but I
was laughed at and scorned because I would not invest my bonds and
securities in the same way. The company in which you took stock has
failed, I suppose."
"Disgracefully! wickedly! Read that! I shall have hardly fifty thalers
to call my own," the Frau President cried, with a failing voice,
covering her face with her hands. "But there is one thing I cannot
understand," she said, starting up again as Flora was hastily perusing
the article in question: "the paper refers to earlier statements; the
crash must have come four or five days ago; and Moritz knew nothing of
it,--impossible!"
"Might it not have something to do with your not receiving your
newspaper a few days since?"
"Ah! you think, then, that our poor Moritz wished to spare me the shock
during the marriage festivities, and suppressed the paper? Oh, yes,--of
course! And he would have made good the loss to me, I am sure; he
himself persuaded me to do as I did. There is consolation in that
thought at least, for if necessary I can swear that Moritz assumed the
responsibility of my investment; and surely I may hope to be repaid my
four thousand thalers from his estate."
Flora tossed the paper upon the table. Regardless as she was wont to be
of the feelings of others, in this case she scarcely knew in what words
to dispel the illusion under which her grandmother laboured. She had
been silent upon this point until now, in hopes that some one of their
dear friends from town would undertake the task of enlightening the Frau
President; but the dear friends had absented themselves; on the previous
day not one had been near the villa, and now she must speak herself.
She could not permit her grandmother to expose herself to ridicule by
this inconceivable want of all suspicion of the truth.
"Grandmamma," she said, in an under-tone, laying her hand upon the old
lady's arm, "the first thing to be considered is the possible value of
the estate to which you allude."
"Oh, my child, only look out of the window and you will acknowledge that
the payment of my poor four thousand would scarcely be felt by the heir,
whoever it may be. Even if the enormous capital employed by Moritz in
his business operations be lost in consequence of the destruction of his
books and papers, the real estate and personal property which he owned
will amount to a handsome fortune." She sighed sadly,--"I should be
thankful indeed if I were his acknowledged heir."
Flora shrugged her shoulders. "You might never come into
possession----"
The Frau President started up. "Are you mad, Flora? Weak as I am, I
would run for hours, and fast for weeks, if I might thereby win the
right to claim this inheritance. It is incredible that fate should be
so cruel! I, I, in my position, to be thrust forth from the house that
owes its splendour, its aristocratic prestige, to me alone, and an
obscure old woman, who has spent her life in darning linen, to be
installed here in my place!"
"That need not vex you, grandmamma; his old aunt upon the Rhine will no
more inherit than you will."
"Ah! Other heirs have appeared, then?"
"Yes,--his creditors."
The Frau President staggered back to her arm-chair, with a low cry.
"Hush! Pray do not make a scene," Flora said, almost in a whisper.
"The people below-stairs know it much better than I; they are all ready
to flee from the house like rats from a sinking ship. I cannot and must
not leave you any longer in ignorance of the state of affairs. We must
be _au fait_ if we would not be laughed at as dupes." She drew the
cloud of black tulle closer about her grandmother's chin and neck and
rearranged her disordered hair. "No one must see you thus, grandmamma,"
she said, sternly. "We must retire as gracefully as possible: the
affair is too dishonourable and disgraceful; there is no longer any
doubt that the explosion was the work of despair--to give it its right
name, a piece of villainy--on Roemer's part."
"The wretch! The infamous scoundrel!" shrieked the Frau President,
rising, and fairly running to and fro in the apartment, rage lending
strength to her feeble limbs.
Flora pointed to a window before which there hung no protecting shade.
"Remember, every one outside can hear you!" she said. "Since early dawn
tradesmen have been hovering near the house, the excitement in the
capital is tremendous; some people have almost lost their senses with
anxiety. Everything consumed by this large household for the last six
months is unpaid for. The butcher has even dared to invade the house
and demand that you should be called to speak with him. He wishes, of
course, before the officers of the law appear, to extort from you, as
the head of the household, the six hundred thalers owing him. He was
insolent enough to tell my maid that the ladies of the house, as well as
the councillor, had eaten his meat."
"Ugh! what a slough that miserable fellow has thrust us into, while he
has made his own cowardly escape!" the Frau President exclaimed, half
choked with rage, and yet instinctively withdrawing from the open
window. She wrung her hands. "Gracious heaven! what a fearful
situation! What is to be done?"
"First of all, we must pack up everything that is our own and leave the
house, if we would not have the officers seal up our effects also; we
might wait long before they would be returned to us. I am just going
up-stairs to put away my"--she interrupted herself with a laugh--"my
trousseau in chests and trunks. Then I am going to make an inventory of
the household articles, and if you yourself will not take charge of
handing them over----"
"Never----"
"Then the housekeeper can do it. We have reason enough to plead
illness." She took from her writing-table the key of the room where her
trousseau was, whilst the Frau President retired to place her
possessions if possible beyond the risk of being officially sealed up.