THE GOAL IN SIGHT.
Weeks had elapsed, spring had taken her leave and summer had come in
the full blaze of her glory. At Odensburg, they had already begun
preparations for the wedding festivities, which were appointed for the
last days in August. After the ceremony a grand entertainment was to
take place, to which the Dernburg family were to invite the whole
circle of their acquaintance, and immediately afterwards the young
couple were to set out on their trip to the South.
The officers and operatives belonging to the Dernburg works purposed to
have their share in the festivities also. They wished to do honor to
their chief upon occasion of the marriage of his son and heir. The
director and Doctor Hagenbach were at the head of a committee, who
planned a grand festal parade, and all had gone into the affair with
spirit.
But in spite of these joyful preparations, there rested, as it were, a
cloud over the Manor-house and the Dernburg family. The chief himself
was out of sorts on account of various annoyances, public and private;
the approaching elections to the Reichstag were beginning to attract
sympathy even at his Odensburg, and he knew, only too well, that his
men were being tampered with. Openly, this was not done, most assuredly
he held the reins too firmly in his hand for this, but he was not able
to steer clear of the secret, and on that very account dangerous,
activity, with which the Socialistic party encroached step by step upon
his works, that had hitherto been kept so clear of any such tendencies.
Moreover, Eric's health was again causing him grave anxiety; he had
been obliged almost entirely to renounce the hope of introducing his
son (as he had hoped and desired) to his future calling. The young man
was perpetually ailing--needed to have his strength spared just as much
now as before he went South. Such a thing as his engaging in systematic
work was not to be thought of. Finally came Wildenrod's wooing and
Maia's openly acknowledged love for him, which Dernburg had heard of
with extreme surprise, yes, almost with indignation.
The Baron had asked her father for her hand, on the very same day
that he had declared himself to the young girl, but had met with a much
more decided opposition than he had expected. However much Dernburg
might have been taken with him personally, Oscar was not the husband
that he had selected for his daughter, and the thought of wedding the
sixteen-year-old child to a man old enough to be her father, was just
as repulsive to him as Maia's reciprocating this passion. His darling's
entreaties availed in so far that the original No was rescinded, but
just as little was he to be moved to give his consent for a speedy
betrothal. He declared with all positiveness that his daughter was
still much too young to bind herself already for a lifetime, saying
that she must wait and put her feelings to the test; two years hence
would be ample time to introduce the subject again.
Wait! That was a fatal, an impossible sentence for this man, with whom
every minute counted, and yet, for the present, no alternative was left
him, because Maia had been withdrawn from his influence. After that
declaration he himself had received a gentle but unmistakable hint,
that under these circumstances, daily intercourse between the pair
was not to be kept up. But to leave Odensburg now, was equivalent to
giving up his game as lost. The thing for him now to do was to be
vigilant, and confront the danger which, since that threat of Runeck,
had hung over his head like a thunder-cloud. And he must also stand
by his sister, in order to be sure that she would keep her word with
him--wrested from her, as it had been, almost by force. She was
incredibly altered since that unhappy hour. Therefore he had not
_wanted_ to understand that hint, and had held his ground; but here
Dernburg interposed immediately, with his wonted determination, and
under pretext of her paying a visit to a friend of the family, he sent
his daughter away, not to return until her brother's marriage took
place.
Egbert Runeck had come from Radefeld, in order to give in his usual
report to his chief. For weeks past, he had been accustomed, at these
times, only to tarry awhile in the work-room and then return forthwith
as soon as he had dispatched his business. He seemed to have become
quite estranged from the family-circle. But to-day he had sought out
Eric the first thing, who received him with joyful surprise, but also
with reproaches.
"Why, Egbert, is that you,--do I actually lay eyes on you once more? I
thought that you had quite forgotten me, and laid our house under a
ban. Father is the only one who ever gets a sight of you."
"You know how closely occupied I am," answered Egbert evasively. "My
works----"
"Oh yes, those works of yours always serve for a pretext! But come, let
us have a good chat--I am so glad to have you all alone to myself once
more."
He drew his friend down on the sofa beside him and began to ask
questions and narrate his own experiences. He had the conversation
almost entirely to himself however. Runeck showed himself strikingly
taciturn and absent-minded, and meanwhile he answered mechanically as
it were, as though he had his mind bent on very different things. Not
until Eric began to speak of his approaching marriage did he grow more
attentive.
"We want to set off on our trip immediately after the grand
entertainment to be held on our wedding-day," said the latter with a
happy smile. "I think of spending a few weeks, with my young wife in
Switzerland, but then we shall both wing our flight to the South. To
the South! You have no idea what a charm that word has for us. This
cold Northern sky, these gloomy fir-clad mountains, all the bustle and
stir here, all this lies so heavy upon me. I cannot get perfectly well
here. Hagenbach, who just left me, thinks so too and proposes that we
spend the whole winter in Italy. Alas! father, though, will not hear of
this--it will cost us a battle to carry our point with him."
"Are you feeling worse again?" asked Egbert, whose eyes rested with a
peculiarly searching expression upon the pale, sunken features of his
friend.
"Oh, nothing to signify," said Eric, carelessly. "The doctor is only so
incredibly anxious. He has prohibited my riding, gives me all manner of
prescriptions, and now wants the wedding-festivities to be on a reduced
scale, because they might cause me to over-exert myself. Anything but
excitement. That is the first and last word with him. I am getting
rather tired of this thing, for he treats me always like a very ill
patient to whom any excitement might bring death."
Runeck's gaze was fixed yet more intently and gravely upon the young
man, and there was restrained emotion in his features and his voice,
when he asked:
"So Dr. Hagenbach dreads excitement for you, does he? To be sure, you
did have a hemorrhage that time----"
"Dear me, Egbert! that was two years ago, and every trace of it has
disappeared," interrupted Eric impatiently. "The only thing is,
Odensburg does not agree with me, any more than it does with Cecile,
who can never feel at home here. She is made for joy and sunshine, that
is the element in which, alone, she can thrive; here, where all hinges
upon labor and duty, where my father's stern eyes hold her spellbound,
as it were, she cannot be herself. If you knew what a change has been
wrought in my Cecile, who sparkled with life and exuberant spirits, who
was so captivating even in her caprices! How pale and quiet she has
grown in these last weeks, how strangely altered in her whole nature.
Many a time I am afraid that something quite different lies at the
bottom of it. If she repents of having plighted her troth to me,
if--ah, I see specters everywhere!"
"But, Eric, I beseech you," remarked Runeck soothingly. "Is this the
way you follow the prescription of the doctor? You are stirring
yourself up in a manner wholly unnecessary."
"No, no!" cried the young man passionately. "I see and feel that Cecile
is concealing something from me--day before yesterday she betrayed
herself. I spoke of our wedding-trip,--of Italy, when she suddenly
burst out with: 'Yes, let us be gone, Eric, wherever you will, only
far, far away from this place! I can stand it no longer!' What cannot
she stand? She would not let me question her on the subject, but it
sounded like a shriek of despair."
Carried out of himself he sprang to his feet. Egbert, too, got up,
managing as he did so, accidentally as it were, to step out of the
bright sunshine, that poured in through the window, into the shade. "Do
you love your betrothed much?" asked he slowly with marked emphasis.
"Do I love her!" Eric's pale face reddened and his eyes beamed with the
tenderest enthusiasm.
"You have never loved, Egbert, else you could not ask such a question.
If Cecilia had rejected me that time, when I courted her, I might have
stood it. If I had to lose her now--it would kill me!"
Egbert was silent. He stood with his face half-averted, his features
still working from the intensity of the emotions that were warring
within. At those last words, however, he drew himself up, advanced to
his friend and laid his hand upon his arm.
"You are not to lose her, Eric," said he firmly, although with
quivering lips. "You will live and be happy!"
"Do you know that so surely?" asked Eric, looking up in surprise. "Why,
you talk as if you held the keys to life and death."
"Then take it as a prophecy, which will be fulfilled to you.--But I
must go, I only came to bid you farewell, for my course at Radefeld has
come to an end sooner than I had supposed."
"So much the better, for then you can come back to Odensburg, and we
shall see each other frequently enough, I hope, before I leave."
"I am just on my way now to talk with your father about it."
"You are an enviable fellow!" said Eric with a sigh. "Ever forward,
ever upward to new aims, without allowing yourself a moment's repose!
Hardly is one task over, when you are as busy as ever carving out new
ones. What sort of plans are these, pray?"
"You will hear about them better from your father, now you are in no
mood for it. Then--farewell, Eric!"
With emotion that struggled for utterance, he offered him his hand,
which Eric took with no sign of embarrassment.
"You do not mean this as a farewell for any length of time. You will be
at Radefeld for a while yet?"
"Of course, meanwhile I may leave there very shortly, and who knows
where I may have pitched my tent, by the time you come back from Italy,
in the spring?"
"But then we'll see each other once more at my wedding!" remarked Eric.
"If it is possible for me----"
"It must be possible for you, I'll not let you go until you have
promised me that. You will come under all circumstances, Egbert, do you
hear? And now I must let you go, for I see that the ground burns under
your feet. Good-bye, then--to meet again soon!"
"Yes--farewell, Eric!"
It was a vehement, almost convulsive pressure, with which Runeck
clasped his old friend's hand, then he turned off hurriedly and left
the room, as though he dreaded being detained. Not until he was on the
pathway out of doors did he stand still, when, drawing a long breath,
he murmured to himself:
"That should be overcome! He is right, it would kill him.--No, Eric,
you are not to die, not through me! _That_ is what I will not take upon
myself."
As usual, about this time, Dernburg was found in his office. He looked
grave and troubled, while he listened to Dr. Hagenbach who sat opposite
to him. Oscar von Wildenrod was likewise present, but he with folded
arms leaned against the window-frame, without taking any part in the
conversation, the course of which, however, he followed with breathless
attention.
"You give yourself too much solicitude," said the physician in a
soothing tone, although his air was not exactly one calculated
to inspire confidence. "Here Eric is still suffering from the
after-effects of our harsh spring. He should have stayed longer in the
South and then selected some half-way station; the abrupt change of
climates has been injurious to him. Meanwhile, he must now return to
Italy, and I have just been talking with him, persuading him to spend
the winter there. He would prefer Rome, on account of his young wife.
But I am for Sorrento, or if it must be a larger city than that,
Palermo."
Dernburg's brow darkened yet more at these last words, and with hardly
concealed displeasure he asked,
"Do you regard it as absolutely necessary for Eric to spend the whole
winter away? I had hoped that he would bring his wife back to spend
Christmas with us."
"No, Herr Dernburg, that will not do for this time," answered Hagenbach
with decision. "That would be to stake everything that we won last
winter."
"And what have we won? A half cure, that is questionable after the
lapse of a few months. Be candid, Doctor. You believe that my son, in
general, cannot stand this climate."
"Provisionally it would certainly be necessary----"
"Nothing about provisionally; I want to know the truth, the whole
truth! Do you think that it is at all likely, that Eric can live
constantly at Odensburg, that he can be my co-worker, my successor some
day, as I hoped when he returned last spring, apparently cured?"
His eye hung in agonized suspense upon the doctor's lips, and
Wildenrod's gaze was just as intent, as he now emerged from the
window-niche.
Hagenbach was slow in answering; it seemed to cost him a great effort.
At last he said earnestly:
"No, Herr Dernburg--since you desire to know the truth--as things are
now, a permanent sojourn in the South is a condition of life with your
son. He can come to Odensburg, for a few months in summer, but he can
never stand another winter in our mountains, no more than he can the
fatigues of an active calling. This is my firm conviction, and any of
my colleagues will indorse my opinion."
Wildenrod made an involuntary movement when he heard this sentence
pronounced so positively. Dernburg was silent; he only supported his
head upon his hand, but it was easy to see what a heavy blow was
inflicted upon him, by the doctor's outspoken opinion, although he must
have had a foreboding of what it would be.
"That means, then, that I must bid farewell to all the plans that I
have been cherishing so long," said he softly. "I hoped against
hope--nevertheless, Eric is my only son. I want his life preserved,
even though my dearest hopes be buried thereby. Let him, then,
establish a home somewhere in the South, and limit his activity to
building and adorning it--I can afford it."
A heavy, half-suppressed sigh betrayed what this resolve cost him. Then
he turned to the physician and offered him his hand.
"I thank you for your candor, Doctor. Although the truth be bitter, I
must accommodate myself to it. Let us speak more particularly of it
another time!"
Hagenbach took his leave. For a few minutes silence prevailed in the
room, then Wildenrod asked in a subdued voice: "Did that sentence
surprise you? It did not me, I have long feared something of the sort.
If Eric only soundly recovers, then, I hope, you and he will both find
the separation a lighter trial than you apprehend."
"Eric will find it very light," said Dernburg, with swelling
bitterness. "He has always dreaded assuming the position in life to
which he was born. He shrank back before this mighty, restless
enterprise, of which he was to be master and leader, with all its
duties and responsibilities. He will far rather sit on the shore of the
blue Mediterranean, making plans for his villa, and be glad if nothing
disturbs him in his dreamy repose. And I am left alone here; forced,
one day, to leave my Odensburg, my life-work, to pass into the hands of
strangers. It is hard!"
"Must you really do that?" asked Oscar significantly, drawing nearer as
he spoke. "You have still a daughter who can give you a second son, but
you persistently refuse to the man of her choice the rights of a son."
Dernburg made a gesture expressive of his repugnance to the thought
suggested.
"Let that be! Not now----"
"Just now, at this hour, I would like to speak to you. You have taken
my wooing of Maia in a manner that I have neither expected nor
deserved. You almost reproached me for it as if I had committed a
crime."
"It is a crime, too, Herr von Wildenrod. You should not have spoken of
love to a sixteen-year-old child, and bound her to you by the
confession of your passion, without being sure of her father's consent.
One pardons a youth for being carried away by the feelings of the
moment, but not a man of your years."
"And yet, this moment has given me the highest happiness of my life,"
cried Oscar, ecstatically, "the certainty that Maia loves me. She must
have repeated this confession to you--we both hoped for a father's
blessing. Instead of this we are condemned to an endless probation. You
have banished Maia from Odensburg, depriving yourself of her sweet
presence, only to withdraw her from my neighborhood----"
"And what else was I to do?" asked Dernburg. "After your premature
declaration, unembarrassed daily intercourse was no longer possible, if
I did not agree to the engagement."
"Then do so now! Maia's heart belongs to me, neither time nor
separation is going to alter that, rest assured, and I love her more
than I can tell. You have to let your son go to a foreign land--well,
then, let me step into his place! I have learned to love your
Odensburg, and bring to it the unbroken energies of a man who is weary
of his aimless existence and would like to begin a new life. Will you
refuse me this, only because two decades divide me and her whom I
love?"
He spoke with passionate entreaty, and could not have selected a better
time than this hour in which the man, who sat there with darkly clouded
brow, had seen shattered all the hopes which he had built upon his son
and upon that other, whom he had, one day, wanted to see by the side of
his weak and dependent heir--that plan, too, had been wrecked, since he
knew, that Maia's heart was preoccupied. He need not be separated from
his darling child if she became Wildenrod's wife, and he with his
determined, strongly-marked character, offered him indemnity for all
that he had lost. The choice was indeed not difficult.
"That is a serious, pregnant decision, Herr von Wildenrod," said
Dernburg, whom this proposition surprised less than Oscar would have
supposed. "If you really could adapt yourself to so complete a reversal
of your former mode of life--it is no light task that awaits you, and
perhaps the only reason that it has a charm for you is, because it is
new and strange to you. You are unaccustomed to any kind of systematic
business----"
"But I shall learn method," interposed Wildenrod. "You have often
called me your assistant in jest, be you now in earnest my instructor
and guide. You shall have no cause to be ashamed of your scholar! I
have at last come to the conclusion that one must be useful and
industrious in order to be happy. And now, pray, grant my request: you
have allowed Eric to be happy in his own way, will you refuse Maia and
me the same?"
"We shall see," returned Dernburg, but his tone showed that his point
was half-conceded. "Eric's wedding will come off in three weeks, then
Maia returns to Odensburg and----"
"Then I may ask for my bride," impetuously exclaimed Oscar. "Oh, thank
you, we both thank our stern but good father."
A passing smile illumined Dernburg's brow, and although he had not yet
given his consent, he did not refuse the expression of gratitude.
"But enough of that now, Oscar," said he, for the first time using the
familiar form of address. "Else with your impetuosity you will force
everything possible from me, and I have other business to attend to.
Egbert ought to be here by this time; he comes in from Radefeld to day
to report to me."
The radiant expression vanished from Wildenrod's features, and gave
place, for an instant, to a slightly scornful smile; then, with seeming
indifference he threw out this hint: "Herr Runeck is very much
engrossed in another direction, at present. He bestirs himself in his
party's service at every nook and corner."
"Yes, indeed," responded Dernburg quietly, without appearing to notice
the insinuation implied. "The socialists begin to feel their own
importance and their combs swell visibly. They even seem to want to put
up a candidate of their own in our electoral district--for the first
time."
"So it is said at all events. Do you know whom they have in view for
it?"
"Not yet, but I suppose that it will be Landsfeld, who acts the leader
upon all occasions. To be sure he is nothing but an agitator, his
affair being merely to bluster, and hound others on. He is not fit for
the Reichstag, and that party usually know their men pretty thoroughly.
But the question in hand is, in general, only to test their power. The
men are not seriously thinking of disputing my right to a seat."
"Is that your belief?" The Baron's eye rested with a peculiar
expression upon the face of the speaker. "Well, perhaps, Herr Runeck
can supply you with some more exact information on the subject."
Dernburg impatiently shrugged his shoulders. "Egbert will certainly be
obliged to make up his mind now, that he knows as well as I do. If he
votes with his party, in this case it is to go against me, and he and I
part."
"He has already decided," said Wildenrod coldly. "You do not yet know
the name of the opposing candidate?--Well, I know it. It touches you
and Odensburg tolerably close--it is Egbert Runeck."
Dernburg started as though he had been struck; for a few seconds he
stared hard at the Baron, as though he believed he were not in his
right senses, but then he declared shortly and concisely: "That is not
true."
"I beg pardon, I have it from the best authority."
"It is not true, I tell you! You have been falsely informed--must have
been."
"Hardly, but it can soon be settled, since you are expecting Runeck."
Dernburg started up and began to pace the floor in the greatest
excitement, but let him consider the matter as he would, it appeared to
him as incredible as at the first moment.
"Folly! Egbert is not going to act in such a farce. He knows that he
must oppose me, and enter the lists against his old friend."
"Do you believe that will hinder him?" asked Oscar mockingly. "Herr
Runeck, at all events, stands high above all those old prejudices of
gratitude and dependence, and who knows whether his election is so
hopeless? For months past he has been out at Radefeld, withdrawn from
observation, and had a few hundred workmen at his disposal. He will, at
all events, have secured their votes, and each individual ensures him
ten, nay, twenty votes among his comrades here at Odensburg. He has
made good use of his time, you may depend."
Dernburg gave no answer, but his step grew ever more hurried, his mien
more threatening, while Wildenrod continued:
"And this is the man upon whom you have showered benefits! He has to
thank you for his education, his culture,--all that he is. You gave him
a position that is envied by all the officers, and he makes use of it
to secretly undermine your authority and to strike a blow at you here,
with the votes of your own men."
"Do you deem that possible?" asked Dernburg with sharpness. "I think we
need give ourselves no anxiety on that score."
"I hope not, but it will at least be attempted, and that is enough. Up
to this time Runeck has very wisely been silent, although he must have
known for months what was in agitation. This will finally open your
eyes to your favorite, or do you still disbelieve my report?"
"I do. As for the rest Egbert will explain matters to me."
"Because he must! It will be an evil hour for you too, for I see how
the bare possibility excites you, and yet----"
"Go, Oscar!" enjoined Dernburg, frowning. "Egbert may come any minute,
and whatever may be the issue of the interview, I want to talk with him
alone."
He held out his hand to the Baron, who took his departure; a proud
passionate pride of victory flashed from his eyes, as the latter
crossed the next room. Finally he had set foot upon the ground, where
his ambition hailed him as future master, sole master, when the present
ruler of Odensburg should close his eyes. Eric voluntarily vacated the
field to him, if he took his wife to live in a foreign country and
became completely estranged from his native place. Now they were to be
realized--those proud dreams of power and wealth, beside them blooming
a sweet joy unknown before. A little while longer, and the goal so
ardently thirsted after would be attained and the past be blotted
out--buried!
Wildenrod was just entering the front hall, when the door to this
opened and Egbert Runeck confronted him. Involuntarily he retreated a
step; Runeck, too, started and then stood still. He saw that the Baron
wanted to pass him, but he tarried upon the threshold as though he
would obstruct his passage. For a few seconds they stood thus regarding
one another, when Oscar asked sharply:
"Have you anything to say to me, Herr Runeck?"
"For the present--no," answered Egbert coldly. "Later, perhaps."
"It is questionable, though, whether I shall then have time and
inclination to listen to you."
"I believe you will have time, Herr von Wildenrod."
The glances of the two men crossed, one sparkling with fierce and
deadly hatred, the other full of dark threatening; then said Oscar
haughtily:
"Meanwhile may I desire you to move aside? You see that I want to go
out."
Runeck slowly retired and left the doorway clear. Wildenrod passed him
by, and again there played around his lips that mocking, triumphant
smile. Now he no longer dreaded the danger that had hitherto hung over
his head like a thunder-cloud. If his adversary now spoke, he would no
longer find an auditor. The "evil hour" preparing for him in yonder
must forever annihilate his foe.