MAIA'S CHOICE.
On the terrace of the Odensburg manor-house Eberhardt Dernburg and
Oscar von Wildenrod were walking up and down, engaged in conversation.
They had become absorbed in a political discussion, that was conducted
with much animation on the part of the older gentleman, while the
younger, contrary to his custom, appeared to be silent and abstracted.
From time to time his glance would be directed to the large grassplot
where Maia was playing croquet with Count Victor von Eckardstein.
"There will be a hot contest at this session of the Reichstag, as is
plainly to be foreseen," Dernburg was just saying. "It is to be called
together immediately after the elections and I must just make up my
mind, to sacrifice the greatest part of the winter to my duties as a
member."
"Do you calculate then, positively, upon being re-elected?" asked
Wildenrod.
"Of course I do!" Dernburg looked at him in surprise. "I have been
representing my electoral district for the past twenty years, and the
Odensburg votes alone suffice to ensure my election."
"I was just going to ask you about that. Are you perfectly sure of
those votes too? Much has altered in the last three years."
"Not with me," said Dernburg quietly. "My workmen and I have known each
other for tens of years. I know that insurrectionary influences have
been at work--insinuations and the like. Trying with all my might I
have not been able to protect Odensburg from these, and perhaps here
and there these whisperings may have found individuals who would
listen; but the mass of my men stand fast by me."
"Let us hope so!" A slight doubt was perceptible in the voice of the
Baron, who, in spite of his short stay, showed himself perfectly _au
fait_ with the situation of affairs. "The socialists in the region
round about have been uncommonly active, preaching, agitating, and
stirring up things generally, and in many an electoral district, the
candidate who was perfectly sure of an overwhelming majority, awoke to
unpleasant surprises."
"But here I stand--and I believe myself fully equal to cope with those
gentlemen," said Dernburg with the quiet conviction of a man who feels
that he occupies a position that is unassailable. Wildenrod was about
to answer, when a joyous laugh rang forth from the play-ground, and
thither his glance was forthwith directed.
They presented an attractive picture, those two slender young people
with their graceful movements, their cheeks glowing from warmth and
excitement. Each thought to get the better of the other, triumphing
when the opposing side failed to hit the mark, and between whiles
chasing and teasing one another with unrestrained glee, like a couple
of children.
Dernburg's eye had followed the direction taken by his companion's
glance, and his grave features were lit up by a fleeting smile.
"Those frolicksome children! One might certainly excuse my little Maia,
with her sixteen years, for allowing her spirits to run away with her a
little too much, but the Lieutenant seems to forget entirely that he is
no longer a boy."
"I am afraid, that Count Eckardstein will never have the earnestness
that becomes a man," said Wildenrod coolly. "He has an amiable but a
very superficial nature."
"There you do him injustice! Victor is a scatterbrain--alas--and has
many a time caused his parents anxiety by various mad pranks--some of
which Odensburg could tell of--but he always kept his heart in the
right place. He is no genius, but open and honorable and intelligent
enough to make a splendid officer some day."
"So much the better," remarked the Baron. "For the Count and--for
Maia."
Dernburg turned around and looked at him in amazement. "What do you
mean by that?"
"For Maia!"
"An explanation would hardly seem to be needed. Count Eckardstein shows
his wishes and designs plainly enough, and I am convinced that it did
not cost him the least struggle to fall in with his brother's scheme."
"What scheme?" A fold appeared between Dernburg's brows as he put this
question.
Wildenrod slightly shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, it seems that the young Count is something of a spendthrift. You
admit yourself that he has always been that, and is dependent entirely
upon his brother, to whom fell the family estate. That a wild young
officer should incur debts is natural enough, but in this case the
measure to be tolerated must have been transgressed, at least that was
the view Count Conrad took of it. It is said that violent scenes were
enacted between the brothers, and really one cannot blame the elder for
planning an heroic remedy for his younger brother."
These words were well calculated: each one struck home, as was
manifest, although Dernburg asked with apparent composure:
"And, pray, what might that remedy be?"
"A rich marriage! It is said that the young Count has come back, by the
desire or command of his brother, to resume the relations with
Odensburg, that had been long since dropped, in order to gain an end
that is easily guessed. Do you wonder that I am so accurately informed
with regard to this matter? An accident! When we were recently invited
to Eckardstein, I overheard a conversation between two gentlemen, who,
indeed, had no idea that I was in the next room, else they would not
have spoken so freely on private matters. They seem to regard the
alliance as already an accomplished fact."
Dernburg's brow grew darker and darker during the progress of this
speech, but his voice had its wonted resonance, when he replied:
"Ere such a thing could be 'fact' I would have the last word to say,
for Maia is hardly anything more than a child yet--certainly much too
young for any talk about her marriage.--Why, Eric, here you are, but
with such a despairing look upon your face! Has Cecilia not deigned to
make her appearance yet?"
Eric, who had just now joined them, did indeed look anxious and
excited. "No, indeed, not yet!" answered he in a worried tone. "I have
been over to the stables to inquire, but nobody knows where she can
have driven to. She had the pony-carriage gotten up very early this
morning while all the rest of us were asleep, and took nobody with her
but Bertram. I really do not understand it."
"It will turn out to be some caprice on her part," remarked Oscar.
"Cecile is simply incalculable in her whims; you will have to get used
to them, dear brother-in-law."
"I think Eric would do better to cure his future wife of this want of
consideration," said Dernburg with some asperity. "It would not conduce
to the happiness of a marriage."
Poor Eric did not look as if he had either the will or the inclination
to break his betrothed of any habit. Wildenrod, however, quickly and
soothingly suggested:
"Most likely some playful jest is at the bottom of it. I'll lay a wager
that Cecile intends giving us a surprise by this mysterious
expedition."
The game on the grass-plot, meanwhile, had gone on its way, now seeming
to break up in a quarrel, which, however, was carried on by both sides
good-humoredly, and finally ended in a reconciliation and a peal of
laughter. Dernburg looked over at the pair anew, but no smile played
upon his features now, and he called impatiently: "I should think,
Maia, it was time to stop. Come to me, my child!"
Maia obeyed. Coming promptly, still heated as she was from the game,
and Victor Eckardstein followed close behind her.
"I have a request to proffer to you in my brother's name, Herr
Dernburg," said he in his open, cordial manner. "Conrad celebrates his
birthday on Wednesday--there will be only a very limited number of
guests, there, but the Odensburg family cannot be left out. May we
count upon the pleasure of your company?"
This request was made in a tone which showed that the acceptance of the
invitation was taken quite for granted. The answer, however, was very
cool.
"I am sorry, Count Eckardstein, but we are expecting company ourselves
from town on Wednesday, and shall have to perform the duty of hosts
ourselves."
"Company? who, papa?" asked Maia in surprise, and with some curiosity.
"I have not heard a word of it."
"Then you hear it now. At all events we regret that we cannot accept
the invitation."
This declaration was made so positively, that any further discussion
was precluded. Victor was silent, but the strangely cool tone struck
him as well as the formal manner in which he was addressed, as Dernburg
had always been in the habit of calling him by his first name. The
young man's glance was involuntarily directed towards Wildenrod, as
though he suspected he had been exerting some malign influence over his
friend.
Such thoughts, however, are not apt to disturb young people for any
length of time. Maia, with her merry talk, soon had the ball of
conversation flying again, although Eric responded only in
monosyllables and was as absent-minded as possible. He allowed himself,
however, to be drawn by the other two into the conservatory, where two
new orchids had just come into bloom.
On the terrace, silence reigned for a few minutes, then the Baron said
in a muffled voice: "I should be sorry, if my report of the young count
had injured him in your eyes, but circumstanced as we now are, I felt
it to be my duty to speak."
Dernburg nodded approvingly. "Certainly, I thank you for it. As for the
rest, I am not accustomed to condemn anybody upon the strength of mere
gossip, but I shall find means to come at the truth in regard to the
matter."
"Do so," said Wildenrod, with quiet assurance. "But as to Maia's too
great youth, girls in our society often marry at that age, and if a man
really engages her affections----"
"Engages in the pursuit of a rich heiress, forsooth, in order to settle
up his affairs," remarked Dernburg with a bitterness which showed that
the report had had its effect, nevertheless. "I shall guard my child
against such a fate as that."
"It will not be easy to do, for a suitor must come forward who is free
and independent, besides being rich enough himself to be exalted above
the suspicion of interested motives. All others will have their eye
upon your millions."
These words were thrown off with a certain premeditation, but Dernburg
did not observe this.
"Not all!" said he, with emphasis. "I know one who's poor and possesses
nothing but his brains--they count for much, though, and guarantee him
a future. The path to wealth and independence was pointed out to him,
all that he had to do was to stretch forth his hand, but in order to do
this he had to sacrifice principle, and he did not go that way."
Oscar started, an uncomfortable suspicion being aroused in his mind.
"Of whom are you speaking?"
"Of Egbert Runeck! Are you so much surprised. I have long since
perceived that Eric would never be able, alone, to superintend at
Odensburg, as must, some day, be his place to do--a man of my stamp is
needed for that, and such an one is Egbert, who has not been brought up
in my school for naught. But in Berlin, they caught him so fast in
their Socialistic toils, that I almost despair of ever getting him
loose."
"Have you really tried that, in spite of knowing--?"
"In spite of knowing everything--yes, I did, because I am convinced
that some day his eyes will be opened--if it is only not too late for
both of us."
Wildenrod's lips were tightly compressed, as though he wanted to force
back an angry rejoinder, at last he said slowly: "Herr Dernburg, for
the first time, I do not understand you."
"Maybe so, but you can always trust to this, that I shall not be the
one to throw a firebrand into my Odensburg, with my own hand. If Egbert
continues obstinate in his present convictions, then all is over
between me and him. But he will not do so. Free course in life is what
he needs, he will struggle and strive upward at any price: but also
build up, create and finally be ruler over that which he has created.
Such natures bend not lastingly under the yoke of a party that claims
blind obedience, allowing no scope to individuality, no mighty
preponderance of the single mind. I am only afraid that he will come to
his senses after he has thrust his happiness far from him. I offered it
to him--but he sacrificed it to his mad fancies!"
The Baron must already stand very high in his future connection's good
graces, for him to speak to him thus of things that he had not even
broached to his son; but Oscar did not seem to be pleasantly affected
by this proof of confidence. A threatening cloud was upon his brow, and
a yet more threatening fire flashed from his eyes, as he said with a
voice almost stifled by passion: "You overestimate your favorite
greatly. But, never mind--you seem to hint at something--" he broke
off.
"What then, Herr von Wildenrod?"
"I would do better not to express it, since it involves a sheer
impossibility."
"Why so?" asked Dernburg irritably.
"Because Egbert is the son of a common laborer? His parents are dead,
but even if they were living----"
"I am above such prejudices."
Wildenrod was silent, he did not look at the speaker but away over at
the works. There was a disagreeable look upon his face.
"You are of a different opinion on that point, I see," began Dernburg
again. "In you stir the feelings of the aristocrat, to whom such a
thing appears unheard of. I think differently. I let Eric choose upon
his own responsibility, but I shall have to stand sponsor for my
daughter's happiness. My little Maia,"--the voice of the man usually so
stern had a strangely tender intonation,--"she was given to me late,
but she is the sunshine of my life. How often have the merry tones of
her clear young voice and the light of her bright eyes lifted me out of
despondency. She is not to be the prey of the fortune-hunter. She shall
be beloved and happy--and so far I know only one person into whose
hands I could commit her future without solicitude, for I am convinced
that he loves her. He is not calculating, he has proved that to me!"
A peculiar pallor lay upon the Baron's face. Was it anger or shame that
palpitated in his soul at those last words? At all events he was spared
any answer, for at this moment a servant entered with the announcement
that the director was in the work-room and wanted to speak with the
master.
"On Sunday? It must be about something very important!" said Dernburg,
as he turned to go. "But one thing more, Herr von Wildenrod--do not let
what we just talked about go any farther than ourselves. Consider it as
confidential."
He went into the house, leaving Oscar alone. Now he knew that he was
unobserved, and his brow resembled a threatening thunder-cloud, as he
leaned with folded arms on the parapet of the terrace. Here was a
danger that he had not apprehended, and with which he had never
calculated upon having to cope, but in contrast with which the looming
up of Count Eckardstein, that had just now appeared to him so menacing,
faded away to a mere shadow. Dernburg evidently had settled it in his
own mind that an attachment existed between his daughter and that
Runeck, the simpleton, who had sacrificed the high prize offered him to
a mere chimera,--that so-called conviction. About Wildenrod's lips now
played a scornful smile of conscious superiority. He knew better to
whom Maia's love was given, he felt himself equal to the conquest of
this new adversary also. And there must be no more delay and no more
pausing to reflect, the thing was to act! Oscar drew himself up with a
determined air, it was not the first time in his life, that he had
played _va banque_, and here the stake was happiness and a future that
promised him everything.
At the end of the extended grounds of Odensburg, where they bordered on
the wooded mountain, lay the "Rose Lake," a small sheet of water, that
took its name from the water-roses, with which its surface was covered
in summer. Now, indeed, none of the white blossoms had opened, only the
whispering reeds and sedge-grass edged its shores; a huge beech-tree
stretched its branches over it, with its foliage of fresh and tender
green, and a dense thicket of blooming shrubbery fenced it in on all
sides. It was a snug and quiet retreat, made, as it were, for solitary
dreams.
Upon a bench beneath the beech-tree sat Maia, her hands full of flowers
that she had plucked on her way, and now wanted to arrange. But this
task was not accomplished, for by her sat Oscar von Wildenrod, who had
accidentally sought the same spot, and managed to fascinate her so by
his conversational powers, that she forgot flowers and everything else
in her absorption.
He spoke of his travels at the North and South, there was hardly a land
in Europe that he was not acquainted with, and he was a masterly
narrator. His descriptions shaped themselves into pictures, in which
landscapes, people and events came forth as though living before the
listener. Maia followed him in his narrative with breathless sympathy,
it all sounded so strange and unreal to her, whose world had hitherto
been confined to the family circle.
"Oh! what have you not seen and experienced!" cried she admiringly.
"What an entirely different sphere you moved in before you came to us
at Odensburg!"
"Another, but not a better one," said Wildenrod earnestly. "It has,
indeed, something blinding and intoxicating--this living in boundless
freedom, with its perpetual change and fullness of impressions, and it
blinded me, too, once upon a time, but that has long since past. There
comes a day when one awakens from his intoxication, when one feels how
hollow and empty and vain all this is, when one finds himself alone in
that concourse of men and in that longed-for freedom--quite alone."
"But you have your sister!" Maia put in reproachfully.
"How long, though! In a few months she deserts me to belong to her
husband, and I have a regular horror of going back to that empty and
aimless existence. You have no idea, Maia, how I envy your father. He
stands firmly and surely upon the foundation of his own labor and its
results; to thousands he gives bread, and the blessings, love and
admiration of all compass him about, and will follow him to the grave.
When I sum up the results of my life--what is the remainder?"
Perplexed, almost shocked, Maia looked up at him who had uttered these
bitter words. It was the first time that Wildenrod had adopted such a
tone in her presence; she knew him as the brilliant man of the world,
who, even when he approached her confidentially, always maintained the
character of the elderly man, who conversed half-jocularly with the
half-grown girl. To-day he spoke very differently, to-day he had let
her have a glimpse of his inner life, and that overcame her shyness. "I
have always thought that you were happy in that life, which seems
lovely as a fairy-dream, when you tell about it," said she softly.
"Happy!" repeated he gloomily. "No, Maia, I have never been so, not for
a day, nor for an hour."
"Yes, but--why did you lead that life so long?"
Oscar looked into those clear child-eyes, that looked up at him with
earnest questioning in their depths, and involuntarily his eyes sought
the ground.
"Why? Yes, why does one live at all? To win that happiness, of which
they sing to us while we are still in our cradles, and of which we
think in youth that it lies out in the wide world, in the dim blue
distance. Restlessly, feverishly, we pursue it, ever thinking to attain
to it, while it retreats farther and farther from us, until at last
it fades away like a shadow until finally we give up the restless
chase--and with it hope."
In spite of his strong effort to command himself, the disquiet of a
tortured spirit was but only too transparent in these words, that had
the ring of perfect sincerity. None knew better than Oscar Wildenrod
what was that wild chase after happiness, which he had sought all these
years--by what paths, indeed, he alone knew.
That woful confession sounded strange in these surroundings, at this
season of spring, when everything breathed only beauty and peace.
Bright lay the sunshine upon the mirror of the little lake, over which
the dragon-flies were hovering dreamily, with their gay-colored,
scintillating wings. Golden rays stole through the young leaves of the
beech and played in the tender May-green. Round about bloomed the
lilac, filling the air with its fragrance, varied by clumps of the
yellow laburnum, covered with its rich freight of pendant clusters of
bloom, and the lower shrubbery was strewn over, as it were, with wild
hedge-roses. There was no end to the blooms, and in the background rose
a distant chain of blue mountains, gravely taking a look into this
little sunny paradise.
Wildenrod's chest heaved with his deep and heavy breathing; it seemed
as though he wanted to inhale the peace and purity of his environment.
Then he looked upon the young being at his side, upon the innocent,
rosy countenance, that was so untouched by the slightest breath of that
life which he had drunk of to its very dregs. But the brown eyes that
were now fixed upon him were swimming in tears, and a low, quivering
voice said:
"All that you have just been saying sounds so hard, so desperate. Do
you really believe no longer in any happiness?"
"Oh, yes, now I believe in it!" cried Oscar with enthusiasm. "Here at
Odensburg, I have learned again to hope. It is the old story of the
jewel that one goes out into the world to look for, in a thousand ways,
meanwhile it rests hidden in the deep and silent woods, until the happy
man draws near, who finds it--and perhaps I am such a lucky fellow!"
He had caught the young girl's hand and clasped it firmly in his own.
With sudden force, Maia recognized in these words, this movement, what
had hitherto been but a dim, half-understood impression resting in her
soul; there sprang up within her a sweet sense of joy and yet, at the
same time, again came that mysterious, uneasy sensation, which she had
experienced already at their first meeting, the dread of that dark,
flaming glance, which seemed to magnetize her, as it were. Her hand
trembled in that of the Baron.
"Herr von Wildenrod----"
"My name is Oscar!" interposed he beseechingly.
"Oscar--leave me!"
"No, I will not leave you!" ejaculated he passionately. "I have found
the jewel, now I will catch it and keep it all my life long. Maia,
years, tens of years part us, I have no longer youth to offer you, but
I love you with all the fervent ardor of youth. From the instant when
you advanced to meet me on the threshold of your father's house, I knew
that you were my destiny, my all. And you love me too, I know it--let
me hear it now from your own lips. Speak, Maia, say that you will be
mine! You have no idea what power this word will exert over me--to
deliver and to save."
He had thrown his arm around her, his passionate, glowing words passing
over the trembling girl like the breath of a burning flame. Her head
rested upon his bosom, and fixedly she looked up at him. Now she no
longer shrank from meeting his eyes, she only saw the melting
tenderness in them, heard only the confession of his love, and that
bodeful dread was lost in triumphant rapture.
"Yes, I do love you, Oscar," said she softly. "Dearly love you."
"My Maia!"
It rang out like a shout of joy. Oscar folded her in his arms, kissing
again and again the light hair and rosy lips of his beloved. An
intoxication of bliss had come over him. The past, with its dark
shadows, sank into oblivion, and to the man who was already approaching
the autumn of life sounded joyously the message that every blossom was
repeating: Spring is here!
After a while Maia gently extricated herself from his arms, her lovely
face all aglow.
"But my father, Oscar, will he consent?"
Wildenrod smiled. He knew that the difference of age between himself
and his betrothed would be an objection hard for Dernburg to overcome,
that his consent would neither be easily nor quickly obtained, but this
did not frighten him. "Your father desires only to see you beloved and
happy, I know that from his own mouth," said he with overflowing
tenderness. "And my Maia, my sweet, pretty child, you shall be happy
and beloved!"