CASSANDRIAN WARNINGS.
Night had fallen, and profound silence reigned throughout Villica
Castle; a silence in striking contrast to the tumult of the preceding
day, when the house had been full of guests. A great supper had
followed the return of the hunting-party, and as it was prolonged far
into the night, most of the guests had remained until dawn. Count
Morynski and Leo had left with them to pass a few days at a neighboring
estate, and Wanda staid to keep her aunt company.
The two ladies sat alone in the drawing-room, which, with its brilliant
lights and closely-drawn curtains, bore no trace of the rough November
storm that was raging without. The princess sat upon a sofa; the young
countess had risen, and was pacing up and down the room, evidently in
great perturbation.
"Wanda, spare me these Cassandrian warnings, I implore you!" said the
elder lady; "I tell you once more that your judgment is warped by your
antipathy for Waldemar. Must he necessarily be an enemy to us all
because you and he are at war?"
Wanda stopped short in her rapid walk, and gazed angrily at her aunt.
"You may one day regret the scorn with which you treat my warnings,"
she said. "I still believe that you are deceived in your son; he is
neither so blind nor so indifferent as you think."
"Will you not cease these obscure prophecies, and tell me plainly what
you fear? You know that I do not trust to appearances or opinions; I
require proofs. Whence arises this suspicion of yours to which you
cling with such tenacity? What did Waldemar say to you when you met him
yesterday at the rendezvous?"
Wanda was silent. She had mentioned only their meeting at the ranger's
place, not wishing to inform her aunt of that solitary interview by the
forest-lake. Not for the world would she have repeated the details of
that meeting, and yet Waldemar had said nothing to give her the
slightest ground for the assertions she had just made. She had no proof
save that strange instinct which from the first had guided her in her
estimate of a character which had escaped her aunt's keen penetration.
She could not offer these mere impressions as evidence, her aunt would
deride them.
"Waldemar had but little to say to me," she answered at length; "but
that little convinced me that he knows more than he ought."
"Very likely," replied the princess, with perfect composure. "I doubt
if Waldemar has made any investigations himself. He knows what the
superintendent knows, and, what is no longer a secret in L----, that we
take sides with our own people. Deeper insight into our affairs is as
impossible to him as to others; we have taken all necessary
precautions. His whole conduct shows his indifference to matters which
do not concern him personally in the least, and he has too nice a sense
of honor to compromise his nearest relatives. He has proved this in the
case of Superintendent Frank; although he would prefer to have the man
remain, he sides with me."
"You will not listen!" said Wanda, resignedly. "Let the future decide
which of us is right. Now grant me one favor, dear aunt; allow me to
return home to-morrow morning."
"So soon? It was arranged that your father should come for you."
"I remained only to have an undisturbed conversation with you upon this
subject. It has been in vain,--so let me go."
"You know, my child, that I like your company," said the princess, "but
I cheerfully consent to your immediate departure. You and Waldemar did
not exchange two syllables at dinner; if you cannot be a little more
courteous at these unavoidable interviews, you had better go."
"Then I will inform papa that he need not come here for me: will you
allow me a few moments at your writing-desk?" Wanda went into her
aunt's study, which was separated from the drawing-room by a half-drawn
_portiere_, and seated herself at the writing-desk. She had scarcely
written a line when the drawing-room door opened hastily, and she heard
a well-known step, so firm and heavy that it was not drowned like other
footfalls in the soft, thick carpet. Then Waldemar's voice resounded
close beside her, on the other side of the _portiere_. She laid down
her pen, and as she could not make her escape without passing through
the drawing-room, she remained motionless in her place. Not a word
spoken in the next room escaped her.
After a hurried good evening, Waldemar sat down at his mother's side,
and began to converse upon indifferent matters. He had taken an album
of water-color paintings from the table, and was turning over the
leaves, while the princess reclined against the sofa-cushions, and
mentally asked herself what could be the cause of this unusual and
unexpected visit.
"Have you heard that your superintendent Frank is about to purchase an
estate?" she asked at length. "His situation here must have been very
lucrative, for, so far as I know, he was without property when he
came."
"He has had a large income for the past twenty years," said Waldemar,
without raising his eyes from the album, "and he must have saved fully
half of it."
"And he has, no doubt, made good use of his opportunities. Have you
chosen his successor?"
"No."
"One of your tenants, the man who rents the Janowo estate, has become
financially embarrassed, not through any fault of his own, and is
obliged to return to a salaried position. I believe him especially
fitted for Villica."
"I do not think so," replied Waldemar, very deliberately. "His
management has been inexcusably bad, and he has brought on his own
ruin."
The princess bit her lip. "Who told you this?" she asked, at length.
"The superintendent, most likely."
Waldemar made no reply, and his mother went on in an irritated tone:
"I have no desire to influence you in the selection of your
subordinates, but for your own interest I warn you not to give full
credence to Frank's calumnies. He does not want this man for a
successor, and he is intriguing against him."
"That can hardly be," returned Waldemar, coldly; "he knows that I have
decided to dispense with a superintendent, and take the management of
my estates into my own hands."
"You yourself? I am astonished."
"You need not be; I have been trained for the position. Frank will
remain until spring, and initiate me into all the details."
He said this very calmly, not taking his eyes from the album, whose
paintings seemed to absorb his whole attention. He did not notice the
look of anxious scrutiny with which his mother scanned his face as she
said,--
"But you led us to infer that your visit would be very short."
"I intended to make it so, but I find that my estates need a master's
care; and besides--I have something to say to you, mother."
He closed the album, and laid it on the table. Now, for the first time,
the princess felt that Wanda's instinct had been more correct than her
own penetration. She saw the storm coming, and prepared to meet it.
"Speak," she said, coolly, "I will listen."
Waldemar rose and gazed reproachfully at his mother. "When I offered
you Villica as a home," he said, "I gave you entire control of the
castle, but the estates were my own."
"Has any one disputed your right to them?"
"No one; but I now see what it meant to leave them for years in Polish
hands."
The princess also rose, and confronted her son proudly and defiantly.
"Do you hold me responsible for this mismanagement?" she asked. "Lay
these grievances rather to the charge of your guardian, who for twenty
years pretended to control your estates. You must deal with your
subordinates, and not with me."
"Frank is the only one of them who still recognizes me as master,"
exclaimed Waldemar, bitterly; "all the others are at your beck and
call. They do not openly refuse to obey me, but they evade my orders
whenever they conflict with yours."
"You are dreaming," said the princess, with an air of affected
superiority; "Frank has prejudiced you even against your mother."
"I have not trusted to his reports, I have made close scrutiny with my
own eyes; and now I ask you, who has transferred the leased estates
from German to Polish hands, and that, too, upon ruinous terms and
without guaranties or security? Who has confided the management of the
forests to a body of men who care nothing for my interests, but who
will render good service to your cause? Who, finally, has made the
superintendent's position so intolerable that his only alternative was
resignation? Fortunately he had the energy to summon me to the rescue,
and I have come at this late hour to find all in revolt against me. You
have recklessly sacrificed everything to the interests of your family
and your cause,--my servants, my property, and even my reputation, for
I am supposed to be in league with you. Your four years' control of my
estates has brought them to the verge of ruin. You know this as well as
I; you have known it all along, but your only aim has been to prepare
Villica for the Revolution."
The princess had listened in silent and ever increasing astonishment;
this was not the first time that she had heard just such words in these
very rooms. The elder Nordeck had often enough reproached his wife with
sacrificing everything to family traditions, but bursts of fury had
been his only method of opposition. He had sought to attain his end by
torrents of threats and rude invective which had only elicited
contemptuous smiles from his proud, fearless wife. She had well known
that this _parvenu_ possessed neither mind nor character, that both his
likes and dislikes sprang from the basest impulses, and her disdain for
the man was only equalled by her indignation that she had been
compelled to accept him as a husband. She would not have been at all
surprised if Waldemar had enacted a similar scene before her eyes; the
fact that he did not, confounded her. He faced her with perfect
composure, and with annihilating certainty hurled at her accusation
after accusation, proof after proof. That mental excitement which he so
powerfully repressed was only too evident; the vein on his right temple
swelled portentously, and he clutched convulsively at the back of the
chair near which he stood. His look and voice, however, betrayed
nothing; they were entirely under control.
Some moments elapsed before the princess answered; her pride would
stoop to no denial or concealment, and both, in fact, would have been
useless. She could rely no longer upon Waldemar's blindness; she must
resort to new tactics.
"Your fears are exaggerated," she said; "do you really apprehend that
all Villica will break out in revolt, merely because I have now and
then used my influence in favor of my proteges? I am sorry if any of
them have abused my confidence and failed in their duty to you; but
unreliable people abound everywhere, you have only to discharge all
such as are in your service here. Why do you reproach me? When I came
here, the estates were virtually without a master; as you did not
concern yourself about them, I felt justified in assuming control, and
my management has been better than that of your agents. I have
certainly managed in my own way. I have always openly sided with my
family and my country. My whole life bears witness to this, and I
require no justification at your hands. You are my son, as well as the
son of your father; the blood of the Morynskis also courses through
your veins."
Waldemar started as if impelled to protest vehemently against this
assertion, but controlled the momentary impulse.
"For the first time in your life you concede to me a share in your own
blood," he rejoined, bitterly; "hitherto you have only regarded me as a
Nordeck, and despised me accordingly. What if this sentiment has never
been expressed in words, are not looks fully as eloquent? I have often
observed the glance with which your eyes have turned from Leo or from
your brother to rest upon me. You have sought to banish every
remembrance of your first marriage as a humiliation and a disgrace; as
the wife of Prince Zulieski, and the mother of Leo, you did not trouble
yourself about me; you would never have come to me if circumstances had
not compelled you. I do not censure you in the least; my father may
have wronged you deeply, so deeply that you cannot possibly love his
son; let us not therefore appeal to emotions and sympathies which have
never existed between us. I shall very soon be compelled to prove to
you that not a drop of the Morynski blood courses through my veins. You
may have bequeathed it to your Leo--I am made of other material."
"I see it," said the princess, half despairingly,--"of other material
than I thought. I have never known you."
Waldemar did not seem to notice the remark. "You understand perfectly
that I shall henceforth assume control of my estates," he said. "I have
one question to ask you: What was the object of the conference you held
last evening, and which was protracted until nearly dawn?"
"That is my own affair," replied the princess, in an icy, repellent
tone. "I am at least mistress in my own apartments."
"Certainly, in so far as you yourself are concerned; but I shall not
allow Villica to be used any longer as an insurrectionary focus. Here
you have held your conclaves, from here orders have been sent to and
fro over the frontier. The castle-cellars are full of arms; you have
collected a whole arsenal."
The princess turned deathly pale, but this blow did not shake her
confidence. Not a muscle of her face moved as she asked, "Why do you
say all this to me? Why do you not go to L---- and reveal your
discoveries? You have displayed such remarkable talent as a spy that it
would be very easy for you to turn informer."
"_Mother!_"
This one word, a furious, indignant outcry, escaped the young man's
lips, and his clenched hand descended upon the back of the chair in a
blow that crushed the frail, delicately carved wood to atoms. The old
passion again blazed forth, threatening to bear along with it all that
self-command so painfully acquired through these four past years. The
princess saw that this her eldest son, who stood before her, was his
father's true heir in violence and fury; his whole frame trembled, and
his face was so distorted by rage that his mother involuntarily placed
her hand upon the bell-knob to summon help. This movement brought
Waldemar to his senses; he turned hastily away and walked to the
window.
A few silent, painful moments followed. The princess felt that she had
gone too far; she saw how mightily her son wrestled with his anger and
what the struggle cost him; she also saw that the man who could thus
control an unfortunate natural disposition, the fatal inheritance he
had received from his father, was an opponent not easily silenced or
overthrown.
When Waldemar again stood face to face with his mother, the struggle
was over, the victory won. His arms were crossed over his breast, his
lips still quivered, but his voice was calm and steady.
"When you confided my brother's future to my 'magnanimity,' I did not
dream of this result. '_Spy!_' You call me so because I seek to unveil
the secrets of my castle. I could apply to you a word of more evil
import. Who enjoys hospitality in Villica, you or I, and who has
betrayed it?"
The princess frowned. "We will not contest this matter," she said. "I
have merely done what right and duty demanded, and now, what do you
intend to do?"
Waldemar, after a moment's silence, replied in a subdued voice, and
with an emphasis upon every word: "To-morrow I shall go to P---- on
business, and remain a week. Before my return, Villica must be freed
from every semblance of disloyalty. Transfer your arms and your secret
assemblies to Radowicz or wherever you will, my domains must be rid of
them. Shortly after my return I shall give a large hunting-party, in
which the governor of the province and the officers of the garrison at
L---- will participate; as mistress of the house, you will of course
have the courtesy to join your name with mine in the invitations."
"No!" replied the princess, emphatically.
"Then I will sign them alone, as the invitations must be issued in any
event. The time has come for me to take my stand upon the question now
agitating our whole province. You are at liberty to keep your room from
feigned illness on that day, or to go to your brother's; but you must
consider whether it is best to have the breach between us become
public, and therefore irreparable. It is in our power to forget this
interview. If you comply with my demands, I shall never again remind
you of the matters we have discussed to-day. You must decide upon your
own course of action. You can tell Leo and your brother what I have
said to you,--they had better hear it from your lips than mine; I
certainly desire no rupture."
"And what if I will not obey the orders you so tyrannically impose upon
me?" asked the princess defiantly. "Supposing I should contest your
claim to the entire inheritance, and assert my right to Villica, which
should have been my widow's dower? The courts would never do me
justice, but there is a public opinion higher than all law; do you dare
defy it by breaking your word to your mother and brother, and exposing
them to the bitterest poverty and dependence, while you revel in
luxury?"
"Do as you please," returned Waldemar; "but do not hold me responsible
for what may happen."
They stood face to face, eye to eye, and that similarity between the
two which had hitherto escaped the notice of all but Wanda, was now
fully evident. Both faces wore the same expression: an iron will that
was ready to stake everything in the furtherance of its plans. Now,
as they stood there confronting each other, ready to engage in a
life-and-death conflict, for the first time they showed that they were
really mother and son, perhaps for the first time they felt this truth.
Waldemar stepped close to the princess, and laid his hand upon her arm.
"I have left the way open for my _mother_ to retrace her steps," he
said, emphatically; "but I forbid the Princess Zulieski's concocting
party schemes upon my estates. If she goes on doing this, if she forces
me to extreme measures, I shall carry them out, even if I must see you
all--"
He stopped suddenly. His mother saw how he trembled, how the hand which
held hers with an iron grasp instantly relaxed and fell powerless at
his side. In mute surprise she followed the direction of his glance
which was fixed upon the study-door. Wanda stood upon the threshold.
Unable longer to keep back, she had come forward with a sudden impulse,
and thus revealed her presence.
A flash of triumph shot from the eyes of the princess; she had found at
last the vulnerable spot in her son's heart. Although the next moment
he had mastered his emotion, and stood there self-poised and
imperturbable as before, it was too late--that one unguarded moment had
betrayed him.
"Well, Waldemar," she asked, and a tone of irony vibrated through her
voice, "are you offended because Wanda has been a witness of our
interview? A large portion of it concerned her. For her sake as well as
mine, you must complete your threat: 'Even if you must see us all--'"
"As the Countess Morynski has witnessed our interview, no explanation
is needed; I have none to make." Then turning to his mother, he added,
"You have a week for your decision. I leave early to-morrow morning."
He then bowed formally to Wanda as was his wont, and left the room.
Wanda had stood motionless on the threshold. She now entered the room,
and approaching her aunt, she asked in a low and strangely tremulous
voice,--
"Do you believe me _now_?"
The princess had sunk back upon the sofa. Her eyes were still fixed
upon the door through which her son had passed; she seemed neither able
nor willing to comprehend what had just taken place.
"I have always judged him by his father," she said as if speaking
to herself; "the error is a fatal one to us all. He has shown that
he is--"
"That he is more like you, Aunt Maryna," interrupted Wanda. "Leo
inherits your features, but Waldemar is the true heir of your
character. You have just been confronted by an energy and a will that
are your very own. Waldemar resembles you more closely than Leo ever
did."
There was a tone in Wanda's voice that arrested her aunt's attention.
"And who taught you to read this character so accurately?" she asked.
"Was it your enmity toward Waldemar which made you see so clearly when
all the rest of us were deceived?"
"I do not know," returned Wanda, casting down her eyes. "I think it was
intuition rather than observation that guided me, but from the first I
knew that he was our enemy."
"That does not matter," replied the princess, confidently; "he is my
son and must remain so. You are right; he has shown me to-day for the
first time that he really is my son, but for this very reason his
mother can cope with him."
"What will you do?" interposed Wanda.
"I will take up the gauntlet he has thrown down. Do you imagine that I
shall yield to his threats? We will wait and see if he really means to
resort to extreme measures."
"He means what he says, depend upon it. Do not count upon any relenting
or submission in this man. He will sacrifice you, Leo and us all, to
what he considers right."
The princess gazed searchingly into the excited face of her niece. "He
may perhaps sacrifice his mother and brother," she said, "but I now
know where his strength falters; I know what he will not sacrifice, and
it shall be my care to present this test at the decisive moment."
Wanda gazed at her aunt without comprehending her; she had observed
nothing further than Waldemar's sudden silence, which her unexpected
appearance fully accounted for, and his cold, repellent manner toward
her and his mother.
"Prompt action is necessary," said the princess. "My brother first of
all must be informed of the state of affairs. Waldemar's unexpected
departure removes the necessity of your leaving us at once; you will
therefore remain, and immediately summon your father and Leo back to
Villica. No matter what other business demands their attention, they
must come, for vital questions are at stake. I will send your letter
this very day by a courier, and they can be here by to-morrow evening."
Wanda assented. She re-entered the study, took a seat at the
escritoire, and again wrote to her father, little suspecting the part
she was to act in the execution of her aunt's schemes. That "childish
folly" long since overcome and forgotten, assumed a new importance when
it became evident that Waldemar still remembered it, and was influenced
by it. It had once aided the princess in obtaining control of Villica,
why should it not again aid her? The mother could not forgive her son
for having so decidedly and offensively disclaimed all ties of kindred
with the Morynskis. For this very reason he should be thwarted by a
Morynski, even if he could not be thwarted by his mother.