CECILA VISITS RADEFELD.
The engagement of the young heir of Odensburg to Baroness Wildenrod had
now indeed been announced and had excited great surprise in
neighborhood circles, that had always supposed that in this matter,
too, Dernburg would act as his son's guardian, and have the first word
to say as to this union, and now Eric had made his own choice, far away
at the South, without asking either his advice or permission. The
beauty of the bride-elect, her good old name and her evidently
brilliant fortune and connections, lent to this choice, it is true, the
prestige of a thoroughly suitable one. And the father's consent was
taken as a thing for granted.
At present, Cecilia had no ground for complaint as to the dreaded
solitude of Odensburg, for her betrothal made the usually quiet Manor
the scene of a constant round of social festivities. The engaged couple
had made the usual visits, and now received return-calls from all the
neighbors, by far the larger number of whom were the families of the
large landed proprietors of that district. There were numerous
invitations, larger and smaller entertainments, of which Cecilia was
ever the center of attraction. Here, too, homage was paid to her
wherever she appeared, and happily Eric had not the foible of jealousy.
So swam Cecilia with full sails, upon the stream of satisfaction; new
acquaintances and surroundings, new triumphs that hardly allowed her,
for the moment at least, to miss the life to which she was accustomed.
The appearance of Baron von Wildenrod made the most favorable
impression on every one. His distinguished appearance and his gifts as
a brilliant conversationalist in general, won the favor of every one
that he wanted to win, and here he was treated with double honor, as
the future relative of the Dernburg family. Already, during the few
weeks of his sojourn here, he had attained to a prominent position in
these circles, and well knew how to maintain it.
At Radefeld the works had been forwarded with all the forces available.
The men, for the most part, had been accommodated in the adjacent
village, and the chief engineer had also taken up his quarters there,
in order to avoid the loss of time in a daily ride to and from
Odensburg. He usually went there only once or twice a week to give in
his report to his chief.
Radefeld, indeed, was only a little village in the woods, and a stay
there was not comfortable in the least. The two confined rooms in which
Egbert lodged at a peasant's house, were meanly furnished, but the
young engineer was not a Sybarite. He had taken nothing with him from
his ordinary residence but his books, his plans, and drawings, and as
for the rest, contented himself with things as he found them.
Runeck was usually to be found early at his place of business. But
to-day he had had a visitor from the city. His guest, a man of about
fifty years, with sharply-cut features and dark eyes, sat in the old
arm-chair, that here had to take the place of a sofa. The two seemed to
have had an earnest and interesting conversation.
"As for the rest," said the stranger, "I should like to ask why you so
seldom come to town now? You have not been there for weeks, and if one
wants to have a talk with you, he has to institute a veritable search
after you."
"I have a great deal to do," answered Egbert, who stood at the window,
with a rather clouded brow. "You see for yourself how immersed I am in
work."
"Work?" mocked the other. "I should think that _our_ work was more
important than digging and rooting here in the woods. You contrived the
plan, so I learn. Will you, perhaps, earn another million for your
chief to add to the other millions that he already has?"
"That is not the question, but whether I shall perform a duty that I
have undertaken to perform," was the brief reply. "The execution of
this plan was properly the upper-engineer's work, and I have to justify
the confidence that called me to do it, in his stead."
"To chain you fast here at Radefeld, so that you will not be dangerous
at Odensburg! The old man is not stupid, nobody can accuse him of that,
he always knows very well what he is about, and you may depend he knows
a thing or two about your proclivities already."
"Be done with your insinuations, Landsfeld," interposed Egbert
impatiently, "of course Dernburg knows, from my own lips. He called me
up for a talk, and I gave him my views without any reserve. I naturally
expected my dismissal after that--but instead the superintendence of
the Radefeld water-works was entrusted to me."
Landsfeld started and directed a searching glance at the young
engineer.
"That is remarkable, to be sure, it does not look like the old man! He
must either be perfectly infatuated with you, or he has some object to
subserve. He is capable of anything. As for the rest, your candor was
very out of place in this case, for now, of course, your movements at
Odensburg will no longer be free. You have managed very awkwardly,
young man!"
"Was I to deny the truth?" asked Egbert with knitted brow.
"Why not, if it could serve a good purpose?"
"Then look out for some one else who is more practiced in lying! I
regard it as cowardice, to deny one's convictions and one's party, and
acted accordingly."
"That is to say, you have again followed your own head, and acted in
utter defiance of orders. Odensburg is your field of labor, you are to
get the fellows there to affiliate with you, instead of which, here you
are quietly constructing water-works at Radefeld, at the same time that
you are being coddled in the so-called Manor-house, and yet you know
perfectly why we sent you here!"
"And you know that I resisted from the very beginning, that finally
only a direct order from headquarters forced me into line."
"Alas! I suppose you confided that to your chief, too?" The question
came in the sharpest of tones.
"No," answered Runeck coldly; "he attributed my return to an entirely
false motive, and I left him in his error. Never again would I have
gone voluntarily to Odensburg, and I cannot stay here either, my
position is an untenable one, as I foresaw."
"And nevertheless you will be obliged to remain," said Landsfeld dryly.
"This Odensburg is like an impregnable fortress, that defies all
attacks. The old man has made his people tame, with his schools and
infirmaries and funds for the poor, they dread to lose the good berths
they have, and, above all, they have an incurable fear of their
tyrant--the cowards! However often we applied the lever, nothing was to
be done, he has made them thoroughly suspicious of our agitators. You
are a child of a workman, have grown up in their midst, and even now
have intimate relations with their chief. They will listen to you, and
follow you too, if it comes to that."
"And to what end?" asked Runeck moodily. "I have often enough explained
to you that a strike at Odensburg would be perfectly futile. Dernburg
is not a man to be coerced: I know him--he would rather close his
works. He is a man after this sort, that he would rather take any loss
upon himself than to yield, and he is rich enough to resist to the
uttermost."
"Just for that very reason he must be brought down from his throne of
infallibility! He shall see, that there are men who dare to make head
against him, puffed up as he is, sitting there on his millions in
luxury and idleness, while----"
"That is not true!" burst forth Egbert passionately, "and you know that
what you say is a lie! Dernburg works more than you and I. Often enough
have I been compelled to admire his immense strength and wonderful
powers of endurance, that actually put to the blush the youngest among
us. And he seeks recreation only in his family-circle. Once for all,
I'll not stand having that man slandered in my presence."
"Oho, you speak in that tone, do you?" cried Landsfeld, now irritated
in his turn. "You take sides with him against us? It only shows how
tame living the life of a lord makes one, if he once gets a taste of
it."
"Take heed, else you might learn that I am anything but tame," said
Egbert, more quietly, but in a threatening tone. "I repeat it, I'll
submit to nothing of the sort, for it has nothing to do with our cause.
Either you will omit these personal attacks upon Dernburg or----"
"Or?"
"I'll never more cross your threshold and shall know how to protect
mine from things that I _will_ not hear."
Landsfeld shrugged his shoulders, as much as to say that he did not
care.
"That means, in other words, that you will put me out of doors? Right
friendly and brotherly, to be sure, but we will not dispute about that.
It is not our way anyhow to pass many compliments. You are coming to
our next meeting, are you not?"
"Yes." This word sounded harsh and sullen.
"Well, I am going to depend upon that. An important matter is to be
brought up. We expect a few comrades from Berlin, and it is likely you
will be taken pretty sharply to task, on account of your inactivity up
to this time."
"Until next week then!"
He nodded shortly and went out in front of the house, however, he stood
still and sent back a look of hatred, while he murmured in an
undertone:
"If we did not need you, absolutely need you! But it is impossible to
get along without you at Odensburg. Just wait though, my young man, and
we'll see if we cannot curb that haughty spirit of yours!"
Egbert, being left alone, stood in the middle of the room, with fist
doubled up and deeply-furrowed brow. It was manifest that a fierce
battle was being waged in his soul, but suddenly he straightened
himself up and stamped with his foot, as though he would quell by main
force the storms that were raging within.
"No, and again no! I have made my choice and will abide by it!"
The Radefeld estate, ordinarily a quiet, lonely valley in the midst of
a forest, now again resounded with the noise of laborers who were hard
at work. Everywhere there was shoveling, ditching, and blasting; trees
and shrubs fell beneath the stroke of the ax; the indefatigable host
having already progressed as far as the foot of the Buchberg, the
tunneling of which was the enterprise afoot.
Runeck, who had come later than usual, stood upon an eminence and
thence directed a tremendous blast. In obedience to his order, all the
workmen had retired from the neighborhood of the mine, which now
exploded with dull, muffled sounds. The cliff against which the work of
destruction was aimed, was split in two, one part still standing erect,
while the other fell with a crash; the earth round about trembled when
the mighty boulders rolled heavily down.
The group of laborers at the foot of the eminence dispersed: Runeck,
too, left his place, to examine closely what had been effected, when an
old inspector stepped forward and announced:
"Herr Runeck--the master's family from Odensburg."
Egbert looked up, in expectation of seeing the wagon of Dernburg, who
frequently came out to inspect the condition of the works, but suddenly
gave such a violent start that the old man looked up in surprise.
Over at the entrance to the ravine Eric Dernburg and Cecilia Wildenrod
had halted, on horseback, while the groom had dismounted, and had
firmly by the bridle their animals, who seemed to have been made unruly
by the noise of the blasting. The young engineer, meanwhile, had
quickly recovered from his surprise, and went across to pay his
respects to his waiting visitors. Eric cordially stretched out his
hand.
"We have kept our word, Egbert, and come upon you without any warning.
Will you allow us an insight into your province?"
"I shall be delighted to be of the least service," replied Runeck,
while he bowed to the young lady, who now gracefully and lightly swung
herself out of the saddle, and in doing so hardly touched the proffered
hand of her betrothed.
"We stopped at Radefeld and through the open windows cast a glance in
at your lodgings, Herr Runeck," said she. "Dear me, what surroundings!
Do you really intend to spend the whole summer there?"
"Why not?" asked Egbert composedly. "We engineers are sometimes here,
sometimes there, and have to accept work wherever it is offered."
"But you have your comfortable home at Odensburg, and a carriage is
always at your disposal. Why do you not stay there?"
"Because then I would daily lose three hours in going and coming. I
have my books and works at Radefeld, and as for the rest I am entirely
independent of my surroundings."
"Yes, you are a Spartan by constitution, physically as well as
intellectually," said Eric with a sigh. "I wish that I could do like
you, but, alas! there is no chance of that. I have gotten too much
spoiled at the South and must now do penance."
He drew himself up and shivered; evidently he suffered more from his
native climate than he himself was willing to confess. He looked pale
and worn, the ride through the woods seeming to have been an exertion
to him rather than a pleasure.
So much the more blooming appeared the young lady by his side. For her
the brisk, rather long, ride had been only an exhilaration, and she had
reined her horse in impatiently enough out of respect to Eric. She had
been accustomed to race at full-speed, having been tutored into this by
her brother, and she did not understand how any one could be cautious
and circumspect in riding like Eric. As for the rest, she was beaming
with cheerfulness and high spirits, even Egbert was treated with
perfect amiability, not a look, not a word, reminded of that
disagreement when they first met.
The laborers reverentially greeted the young master and his promised
bride, whom all eyes followed with admiration. Even here Cecilia's
beauty celebrated a triumph, only Egbert Runeck seemed perfectly
insensible to its charms.
He became their guide through grounds in the act of being laid out,
taking pains to show his guests whatever was worth seeing, but he
observed towards the Baroness Wildenrod the same cold reserve as
before, and turned mostly to Eric; in him, to be sure, he did not have
a particularly attentive listener. The young heir showed only a faint,
half-forced sympathy in all these things, with which he should properly
have felt himself identified.
"It is incredible, the quantity of work that you have all done in these
few weeks," said he, finally, with genuine admiration. "That would be
something for my brother-in-law, who now buries himself all day in the
Odensburg works and has regularly constituted himself my father's
assistant. I would never have believed that Oscar had so keen a relish
for such things."
Runeck did not answer, but his lip curled contemptuously at these last
words. Eric, who did not observe this, continued in the most
unembarrassed way:
"One thing more, Egbert, we recently made an excursion into the
mountains, and some of our party noticed that the great cross on the
Whitestone had sunk. Father wishes the matter to be carefully looked
into, so that no accident may happen. Is there any one among your
people here, who will undertake the dangerous task?"
"Certainly," assented Runeck. "It would be very perilous, if that heavy
cross should one day fall from that high cliff, since the road runs
along just below. I shall go up and see about it myself in the course
of the next few days."
"Upon the Whitestone?" asked Cecilia, whose attention had been
awakened. "How is that? They say it is inaccessible."
"Assuredly it is for ordinary people," mocked Eric. "One's name must be
Egbert Runeck to undertake such a walk on our most dangerous cliff. I
believe he has been up there already three or four times."
"I am practiced in mountain-climbing," said Egbert composedly. "When a
boy I used to be familiar with every cliff and mountain of my native
district, and that is knowledge which is not unlearned. As for the
rest, the Whitestone is not inaccessible, it only demands a steady
head, clear eye and the necessary fearlessness, then the way is to be
forced."
"Dear me, do not say that!" cried Eric laughing, but yet with a certain
unrest. He really feared lest Cecilia might be seized with one of those
madcap fancies by which she had recently so frightened him. "She was
wild to go to the top of the Whitestone."
Runeck seemed to think this project something unheard of, he looked
doubtingly and in surprise upon the young lady, who replied in a
haughty tone:
"Why, yes! I should like just for once to stand on such a dizzy height,
immediately above that abrupt precipice. It must be a thrillingly sweet
sensation! Eric was horrified at the bare idea."
"Cecilia, you torture me with such jests!"
"How do you know that it is a jest? And suppose I act upon it in
earnest--would you go with me?"
"I?" The young man looked as if he thought they expected him to jump
down from the cliff in question. About the lips of his betrothed played
a half-compassionate, half-contemptuous smile; almost imperceptibly she
elevated her shoulders.
"Compose yourself, pray! I shall not demand such a proof of love--I
would go alone."
"Let me implore you, Cecile, not to think of such a thing!" exclaimed
Eric, now alarmed in good earnest, but Egbert interrupted him with
quiet decision.
"You need not disturb yourself on that score. That is no path for the
dainty feet of a lady to tread. Baroness Wildenrod will hardly make the
attempt, and, if she should do so, she would give it up again in five
minutes."
"Cecilia tossed her head, and her eyes flashed as she asked in a
peculiar tone:
"Are you so certain of that, Herr Runeck?"
"Yes, noble lady, for I know the Whitestone."
"But you do not know me!"
"May be so."
Cecilia started, the answer seemed to surprise her, but her glance
strayed to her betrothed, and she laughed scornfully.
"Do not look so miserable, Eric! All this is only bantering! I am not
thinking of the Whitestone and its break-neck cliffs.--How do you
manage, really, Herr Runeck, when you blow up these colossal masses of
rock?"
Eric breathed more freely after the conversation had taken this new
turn. He was already accustomed to being put on the rack by various
whims and wild ideas suggested by his promised bride, that had no
substantial basis, however, and were never to be taken seriously. Being
restored to his composure now, he turned to the old inspector, who
stood close by, expecting, evidently, to be noticed.
Old Mertens had served the father of the present chief, and now
they had given him to perform the light and lucrative duties of an
upper-inspector of the Radefeld works. Eric, who had known him from
childhood, spoke kindly to him, making particular inquiries after his
family, and afterwards greeted with the same kindliness the other
workmen within speaking distance. Any stranger seeing him stand thus
among the people, with stooping gait, delicate, worn features and
almost timid manner, would never in the world have suspected him of
being the future lord of Odensburg. There was nothing of the master at
all about him.
Perhaps Baroness Wildenrod had imbibed this same impression, for her
delicately-arched eyebrows contracted as though from displeasure, and
then her glance turned slowly to the young engineer, who stood in front
of her. Hitherto she had only seen him in company-suit, to-day he wore
a gray woolen jacket and high-top boots, such as wind and weather asked
for, but he gained wonderfully by this simple garb. It matched so
admirably with the bold manliness of his appearance; here on his own
territory his individuality was most strikingly manifest. The first
glance showed that here it was his to command, and that he was fully
equal to the trust reposed in him; the diminutive form of the friend of
his youth shrank into nothingness at his side.
He gave the explanation desired, fully and in detail, illustrating what
he said by showing the mine already laid to that part of the cliff
which still stood erect, yet in doing this, he turned his whole
attention to the rocks and had hardly a look to bestow upon his fair
listener, who now said smilingly:
"We saw the blasting from over yonder, and the explosion was extremely
effective. You were enthroned yonder on the height like the
mountain-sprite in his own person--all the others like ministering
gnomes at your feet--a wave of your hand, and with the sound of muffled
thunder the cliffs were split and sank in ruins--a genuine glimpse of
fairyland!"
"Why, do you know anything of the tales and legends of our mountains?"
asked Egbert coolly. "I really would not have supposed it."
"Only Maia is to be thanked for it. She has introduced me into the
legends of her native hills, and I verily believe the little thing
believes them to be solidly true. Maia sometimes is still a real
child."
These last words sounded very scornful. The slender young lady
who stood there, leaning against the wall of rock, in a stylish
riding-habit of silver-gray, with hat and plumes to match, could not,
by any means, be accused of being a child. Even here she was the lady
of fashion and distinction, who was making it her pastime just to see
for once how the sons of labor lived and delved. And yet she was
ensnaringly beautiful, despite her pride and self-consciousness;
radiant and certain of conquest she stood before the man who alone
seemed to have neither eye nor ear for charms that had never elsewhere
played her false. Perhaps it was this very insensibility which
attracted the spoiled girl, who now continued in taunting tone:
"When I beheld that telling picture of which you formed the center, I
could not help thinking of the old saying about the caper-spurge. That
is the mysterious magic wand of the mountains, to which every bolt
yields and every cavern opens. And then the buried treasures of the
earth shine and beckon to the chosen one, who is to bring them to the
light.
'He takes from night and darkness
Their treasures, hidden deep,
And he those jewels sparkling
And all that gold may keep.'
What think you--has not Maia had an apt scholar?"
She looked at him smilingly as she repeated the verse of that old song
which told of the all-powerful enchanting rod, but the young engineer's
manner did not soften, in spite of all her blandness. His face,
embrowned by exposure to sun and wind, was a shade paler, perhaps, than
usual, but his voice sounded cool and self-controlled, as he answered:
"Our time no longer has need of an enchanter's wand. It has found
another sort of one for splitting rocks and opening the earth--You see
it, do you not?"
"Yes, indeed. I see bald destruction, rubbish and splintered
quartz--but the treasures stay buried below."
"It is empty and dead below--there are no longer any buried treasures."
The answer had a harsh and joyless sound, and the tone in which it was
spoken did not soften its asperity.
"Perhaps it is only because the magical word has been lost, without
which the wand remains powerless," answered Cecilia lightly, without
observing, apparently, his forbidding manner. "Do you not think so,
Herr Runeck?"
"I think, Baroness Wildenrod, that the world of fairies and magicians
has long been left behind us. We no longer comprehend it, and no longer
_want_ to comprehend it."
There was something almost menacing in these apparently insignificant
words. Cecilia bit her lips, and through the sunny brightness of her
smile there gleamed a flash of hostility from her eyes, but then she
laughed gayly.
"How grim that sounds! The poor gnomes and dwarfs have a determined
enemy, I perceive. Only hear, Eric, how your friend denounces the whole
legendary world."
"Yes, it is not worth while to approach Egbert with such things," said
Eric, who just now came up. "He has no opinion of poetry, either,
that one cannot make by line and plummets, nor needs to draw plans
for--therefore he regards it as a highly superfluous thing. I have not
yet forgiven him for the way in which he took the news of my
engagement--actually, with formal commiseration! And when I indignantly
hurled at him the reproach that he knew nothing about love, nor cared
to know it either--would you believe that I got for answer a frigid
'No.'"
Cecilia fixed her large, dark eyes upon the young engineer, and again
that demoniacal spark flashed in them as she said smilingly:
"And were you really in earnest, Herr Runeck?"
Some seconds elapsed ere he answered. He seemed yet paler than awhile
ago, but his eye met that look fully and darkly, while he coldly
replied:
"Yes, Baroness Wildenrod."
"There, you hear it for yourself," cried Eric, half-laughing, half
vexed. "He is as hard as these rocks."
The young lady tapped lightly with her riding-whip against the pile of
rocks that lay heaped up in front of her.
"Maybe. But rocks, too, can be brought to yield, we see. Take heed,
Herr Runeck, you have mocked and defied those mysterious powers----they
will have their revenge!"
The words should have sounded playful, and yet there was a perceptible
breath of defiance in them. Egbert answered not a word, while Eric
looked in amazement from one to the other.
"Of what were you talking?" asked he.
"We were speaking of the caper-spurge, which cleaves rocks asunder, and
unlocks the hidden treasures of earth.--But I think we had better go
now, if you approve."
Eric assented, and then turned to Runeck.
"There is to be more blasting, I perceive; wait, though, before you
apply the match, until we get beyond the region of the ravine. Our
horses were made very unmanageable by it awhile ago, the groom could
hardly hold them."
Again that wicked and contemptuous smile played about Cecilia's lips,
for she had been quick to note awhile ago, that Eric had nervously
started at the dull sounds of the explosion and had summoned the groom
to his side. Her horse, too, had become very restive, but she had held
it firmly in with the bit. Meanwhile she suppressed any remark and only
said, while Egbert guided her and Eric to the place where the horses
stood:
"Accept our thanks for your friendly guidance and explanation. You will
be glad to be rid of such disturbing guests."
Runeck bowed low and formally.
"Oh, do not speak of it, I pray. Eric is here as proprietor on his own
estate, there can be no talk of disturbance."
"And yet it would seem so. You were fairly shocked, when you caught
sight of us in the entrance to the ravine."
"I? Have you such sharp eyes, noble lady?"
"Oh, yes, Eric often teases me about my 'falcon-glance.'"
"In this case, however, your sight deceived you. I was only anxious,
when I caught sight of you so near--horses are so easily frightened by
blasting."
The riding-whip struck impatiently against the folds of her silver-gray
habit. Did that rock resist everything?
Meanwhile they had reached the spot where their horses were tied.
Cecilia and Eric mounted. The former nodded slightly an adieu, then
applied her switch sharply to her beautiful roan, The fiery animal
reared, and immediately set off at a gallop, so that the other could
hardly follow him.
They were still visible for about five minutes, on the forest-road that
led to Radefeld. Like some apparition flew the slender girlish figure
on the back of her racing steed, with her habit fluttering and the
plumes in her hat streaming behind. Once more she was seen at the bend,
then the forest closed behind her.
Egbert was still standing motionless in his place, looking with fixed
and burning eyes upon that road through the woods. His lips were firmly
compressed, and on his features rested a singular expression, as though
of stifled pain or wrath: finally, he straightened himself up and
turned to go.
Then he perceived something at his feet, soft and white, as though some
blossom had blown there.
The foot of the young man seemed suddenly to be rooted to the ground,
then he slowly stooped and picked it up.
It was a fine lace handkerchief, delicately perfumed, that appealed to
Egbert's senses in a bewitchingly flattering manner. Involuntarily his
fingers clutched the airy fabric tighter and tighter.
"Herr Runeck!" said a voice behind him.
Runeck started and turned around. It was old Mertens.
"The men would like to know if they are to go on with the blasting, it
is all ready."
"Certainly, I am coming directly.--Mertens, you are going to Odensburg
this evening, I suppose?"
"Yes, Herr Engineer, I want to spend Sunday with my children."
"Well, then, take----"
Runeck stopped, and the old man looked at him in amazement. It was
exactly as if the engineer was with difficulty, struggling for breath.
And yet it lasted only a second, when he continued with a peculiarly
gruff voice,
"Take this handkerchief with you, and hand it in at the Manor-house.
Baroness Wildenrod has lost it."
Mertens took the handkerchief held out to him, and stuck it in his
pocket, while Egbert went back to the workmen, who were only waiting
for his appearance. He gave the signal, and the magic wand of the new
times did its duty. The startling explosion took place, and the cliff
still uninjured, that had stood there so proud and lofty, was split in
twain. It trembled, tottered, and then fell in ruins at Runeck's feet
dragging trees and shrubs to destruction with it.