FROM HEIGHTS OF BLISS TO DEPTHS OF WOE.
There prevailed at Odensburg the sultriness that portends the gathering
storm. The air was heavy with it, and, according to every sign, when
the tempest broke forth it would be a severe one.
This was the day when the workmen who had been discharged, in
consequence of the proceedings of election-day, had to leave their
workshops. There were hundreds of them, and all their fellows had
declared that they, too, would lay down their work, if those dismissals
were not withdrawn.
In Dernburg's office a conference had just taken place. There were
present, besides the Baron von Wildenrod, who was never missing upon
such occasions, the three highest officials; and they had tried, with
all their might, to bring the chief to a milder view of what had
happened. It had been in vain.
"The word stands, the orders given are to be carried through with the
greatest exactness!" he declared. "You will see to it, gentlemen, that
your subordinates conform precisely to the directions given. Every
special event is to be immediately announced to me. We are going to
have a serious, perhaps terrible time, and I calculate upon each one of
you doing his duty in fullest measure."
"With us that is a matter of course, Herr Dernburg," replied the
director, "and I believe that I can also answer for our subordinates.
And perhaps, after all, it will not come to the worst. Many signs go to
show that the mood at the works is a very depressed one. Many are
already repenting of the decision, into which they were half enticed
and half forced. We know exactly what hands here have been active. The
people have been put up to mischief, and goaded on in an unheard-of
manner."
"I know that, but they have allowed themselves to be stirred up by
strangers, and against me. Now, they can have their way."
This answer sounded so stern, that the director lost courage for making
further representations; he cast a meaning glance at his colleague, and
now the upper-engineer took up the theme.
"I also am convinced that the majority already begin to be conscious of
having acted over-hastily. They will silently let drop that crazy
petition, in which Fallner's remaining was also included. A great part
will quietly work on, the others will follow sooner or later, and the
whole move come to nothing, if you could make up your mind, Herr
Dernburg, to show the slightest disposition to conciliate."
"No!" said Dernburg, with cold severity.
"But what is to be done with the men who go to work as usual to-morrow
morning?"
"They have to make the express declaration that they are not in accord
with their fellows, and intend to submit unconditionally to my
requirements--then they shall be free to resume work."
"They will not come up to that," objected Winning, reflectively.
"Well, then, the workshops remain closed. We shall see who will hold
out the longer--they or I!"
"Exactly my opinion," remarked Wildenrod. "That you owe to yourself and
your position. You seem to be of a different opinion, gentlemen, but
you will soon be convinced yourselves that this is the only right way
whereby we may force the body of workmen into subjection, and that,
indeed, in the shortest space of time."
The officers were silent: they were already accustomed to the Baron's
thus planting himself beside their chief, and the right being conceded
to him. They certainly did not deem Wildenrod's influence as especially
salutary, and here he was again doing every thing he possibly could to
uphold Dernburg in the stand that he had taken. But gradually they had
come to see in him Dernburg's future son-in-law and the future master
of Odensburg: they did not attempt, then, to controvert his position,
which would have been useless; and now when Dernburg gave the sign for
them to disperse, while he rose to his feet, they parted with a silent
bow.
"I do believe those gentlemen are apprehensive of some sort of an
insurrection," mocked Oscar, when the door had closed behind them.
"They would make every possible concession for the sake of sweet peace.
I am so glad that you held firm here; any yielding would have been
unpardonable weakness."
Dernburg had stepped to the window. He seemed to have grown older by
years in these few days, but however bitter the experience might have
been, it had not quelled his spirit,--that iron will of his was stamped
upon every movement. There was something that awed in the stern
rigidity of his features, whence every trace of mildness had flown. He
silently gazed over at the works. The chimneys there were still
smoking, the furnaces glowed, all the mighty forces of those restless
activities were still astir, still toiled thousands of hands.
"To-morrow all this will lie there still and dead--for how long?"
Involuntarily he had spoken these last words aloud, and Wildenrod, who
had drawn near, heard him.
"Why, it will not last long," said he confidently. "In your hands lies
the power, and it can do the Odensburgers no harm, if at last they are
made sensible of this. This riff-raff, that left you in the lurch
without ceremony to run after the first hunter that whistled to them!
Such a set----"
"Oscar, you are speaking of my workmen!" interrupted Dernburg angrily.
"Yes, indeed, of your workmen, who showed you their devotion in such a
touching manner! I can feel with you what was then passing in your
soul."
"No, Oscar, that you cannot," said Dernburg, with grave earnestness.
"You have come as a stranger to Odensburg. With you, your future
position here is only a question of power. Perhaps, hereafter, it must
be the same for me, but formerly it was different. I stood at the head
of my workmen, but all that I did was done with them and for them, and
as each one could depend upon me, in times of danger and distress, I
believed that I could depend upon them, every one. That is all over
now! Fool that I was! They want no peace, they want war!"
"Yes, that is what they want," remarked Wildenrod, "and they shall find
us ready. We shall soon put down this rebellious Odensburg."
"Oh, certainly, we are going to conquer," exclaimed Dernburg with
intense bitterness. "I shall force my workmen to subjection and they
will submit; but with hatred and malice in their hearts--with hatred
against me! Every apparent reconciliation will only be an armistice,
during which they will gather new forces, in order to hurl them against
me, and then I shall be obliged to quell them again, and thus the
breach will become wider and wider, until one party is destroyed. Such
a life I cannot bear!"
With an impetuous movement he turned away from the window, as though he
could no longer endure the sight of his works over there, and his voice
had a weary sound, as he continued:
"I have always thought that I would hold the reins at Odensburg as long
as I lived, but for eight days past, I have been thinking differently.
Who knows, Oscar, whether I may not turn over the management to you.
even during my lifetime. In the crisis ahead of us, perhaps you would
fill the place better than I."
"Heavens, what an idea!" cried Wildenrod, shocked, and at the same time
dazzled by the unsuspected prospect that opened up before him. "You are
not seriously thinking of retiring?"
"For the present--no!" said Dernburg, straightening himself up. "I have
never yet avoided a battle when forced upon me, and shall fight this
one through also."
"And depend upon me to stand by you!" said Oscar, offering him his
hand. "But one thing more: the director seems to dread lest there be
disturbances at the works to-day, when it comes to paying off and
discharging the offenders. The necessary measures have been taken,
indeed, but I place myself at your disposal, if the authority of the
officers should not prove adequate. You yourself should not appear in
person. You owe it to yourself and your station not to expose yourself
to insults that, from words, might extend to acts. Leave that to me!"
An infinitely bitter smile played about Dernburg's lips, but he made a
gesture of dissent.
"I thank you, Oscar. Of your courage I have never had a doubt, but in
such affairs I allow no one to represent me. But you shall have your
place by my side. People shall see and know that I concede to you the
rights of a son. I no longer make any secret of that."
The two men again shook hands warmly, then Wildenrod went. In the
ante-room, a servant came forward with this announcement:
"Baron von Wildenrod, you will find upon your desk a note from Castle
Eckardstein, which came about a half hour ago. We did not dare to
disturb you, and the messenger was not to wait for an answer."
"It is well," said the Baron, abstractedly. He had other things on his
mind now--that expression which had been dropped just now, Dernburg's
hint, that he might possibly give up the management of Odensburg very
shortly. Had this been nothing but an ebullition of anger, a passing
whim, that one was not to take in earnest? No, the man was cut to the
quick; if he was actually forced into a prolonged battle with his
workmen, it was likely, yea, certain, that he would put that thought
into action,--and Oscar von Wildenrod would step into his place. Was it
indeed true that the hotly contested goal was so close at hand? Oscar's
eyes flashed. Oh, he would have no sentimental scruples like his future
father-in-law--that rebellious Odensburg should learn to know its new
master, this he vowed to himself.
Not until he entered his own room and saw the note lying on his desk,
did he recall the servant's message, and with some surprise he picked
up the communication. From Castle Eckardstein? What could they have to
say to him from there? The new proprietor knew, or at all events
suspected, who had stood in the way of his acceptance with Maia, and
surely would not make the attempt to renew neighborly relations.
Oscar broke open the seal, ran his eye over the first lines and
stopped. Quickly he turned the page over, looked at the signature, and
turned pale. "Frederick von Stettin!" he murmured. "What evil spirit
leads him to Eckardstein, and what does he want of me?"
He began to read uneasily, with sinister looks. "It is a very grave and
painful matter that I must discuss with you," wrote Herr von Stettin.
"I have long hesitated as to the way in which this should be done, and
have finally adopted the mildest expedient, for I cannot and will not
forget the friendship that bound me to your father. Therefore I only
say to you that I know your past, from the moment when you left
Germany, up to your last stay at Nice. When we again met there
unexpectedly, I procured this knowledge--never mind how. Under the
circumstances, you will readily comprehend why I challenge you to
vacate the place that you now occupy at Odensburg. They say that you
are the betrothed of the daughter of the house: but you yourself best
know how you have forfeited the right to link your fate with that of a
pure young girl. It were a crime against Herr Dernburg and his family
if I should allow such a thing to happen without opening his eyes.
Spare me the bitter necessity of having to come forward as your
accuser. Leave Odensburg! A pretext for your departure will be
found--it will then be your affair to dissolve your connection with the
family from a distance, in any way you see proper. I will allow you a
respite of eight days; at the end of that time, if you are still at
Odensburg, I must speak, and Dernburg learns the truth. I leave you
time in which to make good your retreat: it is the only thing that I
can do for the son of an old friend.
"Frederick von Stettin."
Oscar let the note drop. He had not known who was the uncle and former
guardian of both the Counts Eckardstein. During that brief and abruptly
broken-off intercourse last summer, the name had not been called, and
when Stettin himself arrived, shortly before Count Conrad's death, the
relations with Odensburg had already become so strained that no notice
was taken of the visitors of one family by the other. But Wildenrod
knew the grave and discreet man from the visits he had paid to his
father of old. He was not one to deal in mere threats; were he to
refuse to retire as requested, he would do what he deemed his duty,
without any hesitation, and then--then all was lost!
Oscar jumped up and paced the floor with disordered steps. Just when he
had stretched forth his hand to grasp the highest prize, then had come
this crushing blow. Should he yield?--should he, in secret, cowardly
flight, turn his back upon Odensburg, of which he had just felt himself
to be the lord and master? Never!
Eight days' respite was allowed him: it was a long time: what might not
happen meanwhile? He had so often, already, stood on the verge of a
precipice, whence it seemed as if a fall were inevitable, and he had
always been saved by some rash resolve, or unheard-of streak of luck,
now the thing to do was to put this luck once more to the test. In the
midst of the wild whirl of thoughts and plans that stormed through his
soul, only one thing stood out before him, clear and plain: he must
make sure of Maia at any price, must chain her so firmly to him, that
no power of earth, not even her father's, could tear her from him. She
was the shield that would cover him from any attack, she, whose whole
soul he had captivated, whose every thought and feeling belonged to
him--this love was to be his salvation.
Oscar again took up the letter and read it once more from beginning to
end, then crushed it and threw it into the fireplace. The paper flamed
up and was quickly consumed, while the Baron threw himself back in his
chair and with lowering countenance gazed into the fire, ever devising
new plans.
A half hour might have thus elapsed, when the door opened, and the
servant, coming in, announced:
"Mr. Runeck, the engineer."
"Who?" cried Wildenrod, starting up.
"Herr Runeck wants to speak to you, Baron, about something important."
It actually was Egbert, who followed closely behind the servant. He
entered without waiting for an answer, and said, with a slight bow:
"Pray do not refuse to listen to me, Baron von Wildenrod, for the
business that brings me is both weighty and urgent."
Oscar had leaped to his feet, and now silently motioned to the servant
to withdraw. He did not, for an instant, deceive himself as to the
significance of this appearance of Runeck, but Stettin's letter had
prepared and steeled him against whatever might come. He no longer took
into account one danger the more or less; so far as he was concerned,
the question was already "To be or not to be?"
"What brings you to me?" he asked coldly. "You will readily apprehend,
Herr Runeck, that, after what has passed, your appearance is rather a
surprise to me. I did not suppose that you would ever again cross the
threshold of Odensburg.
"My coming has to do with yourself alone," replied Egbert in the same
tone, "and in your own interest I desire you to listen to me."
"I am listening," was the curt answer.
"No introduction should be needed," began Runeck. "You know what was
spoken about, that time on the Whitestone, between your sister and
myself. I was then convinced that she shared your life, innocently, in
utter ignorance as to its tenor, and, for her sake alone, have I kept
silent so long."
"For Cecilia's sake!" exclaimed Oscar with a mocking laugh. "I
understand that perfectly. She certainly has a claim to such
consideration upon your part."
Egbert drew back a step, and his brow contracted threateningly.
"What do you mean to imply? I demand an explanation of that speech."
Again came that short, mocking laugh from Wildenrod's lips, as he
retorted: "Act no comedy with me; I know perfectly that to which I
referred. What would poor Eric have done if he had suspected that his
beloved friend had stolen from him the affections of his bride? Who
knows from what bitter experiences sudden death saved him?"
"That is a shameful supposition," cried Egbert, indignantly, "and you
wrong your sister as you do me. You talk as if an understanding existed
between us. Eric's betrothed was as unapproachable, for me, as is now
his widow. As to my feelings, I am bound to render no one an account."
"Not even Cecilia's brother?"
"Such a brother--no!"
"Herr Runeck, you are in my own room," reminded Oscar, with sharpness.
"I know that, but I have not come to exchange civilities with you, but
to have a settlement made that can be postponed no longer."
"About what?" asked Wildenrod, as he stood there motionless, with arms
crossed.
"Is it possible that I shall have to explain it to you first?"
"If I am to understand--assuredly."
Runeck made a gesture of impatience, but restrained himself and with
apparent composure went on: "It refers, in the first place, to that
occurrence in Berlin, at the residence of Frau von Sarewski, that
doubtless concerned all of those present. But as I did not belong to
that circle of society and knew none of the participants intimately, I
did not concern myself further about the matter. Not until you made
your appearance at Odensburg and I recognized the danger that
threatened both Eric and his father, through you, did I inquire
further. I learned that the matter had been subjected to proof, and
that nothing saved you but your speedy departure and the urgent desire
of the participants to ward off a public scandal. The proofs then
obtained I have now in my hands, and witnesses are at my disposal. In
face of this will you actually play the ignorant?"
Oscar made no further attempt at denial, but his eyes flashed with
deadly hatred, as fiercely as though he would annihilate his accuser.
It was not the accusation itself, which left him no way of escape
whatever, but it was the tone of unutterable contempt in which it was
made, that provoked the Baron to the utmost. All the pride and
insolence of his nature revolted against it. He drew himself up to his
full height. "And what object have you in saying all this to me? I have
long known what I had to expect of you, and shall know how to defend
myself. What signify threats? Why have you not dealt the blow long
since?"
"Because I supposed that you would sooner or later leave Odensburg.
Neither Eric's marriage nor his death gave you a right to make it your
permanent home. Just yesterday I learned that you and Maia were
betrothed, and you will understand well when I tell you that this
engagement shall not be consummated. I forbid the banns."
"Really! And with what right?"
"With the right of an honest man, who will not consent to see the
daughter of Eberhard Dernburg and his Odensburg become the spoil of a
villain."
Wildenrod shrank back and his face became as livid as that of a corpse.
"Be on your guard!" gasped he with half stifled voice, raising his fist
as if to strike. "You will answer to me for this speech."
"That will I, but not in the way you mean," said Egbert, fixing his eye
firmly upon him. "Such battles are only fought out in the courts of
justice, where one renders an account only through witnesses and
proofs.--Do not look so earnestly at that revolver, which hangs yonder
above your desk, Baron von Wildenrod. I readily believe it to be
loaded, but I am on my guard--at the first step you take in that
direction, I shall cast myself upon you."
Oscar's eye had indeed turned to the revolver, and a crazy idea had
darted into his mind, only, however, to be rejected instantly. What
good would it do if he did shoot down his adversary? Stettin was
bringing up the same accusation, Victor von Eckardstein likewise knew
about it, and who knows how many more besides--the net was drawing its
meshes about him from every side.
"I offer you one way out--the last," began Runeck again. "Leave
Odensburg forever--this very day, for Maia shall not be called your
betrothed a single hour longer. Whatever people may then guess, nobody
will know the full truth, and your sister and Maia will be spared the
worst. I shall say nothing, if you give me your word that you will go."
"No," said Wildenrod, with a composure that boded no good.
"Baron von Wildenrod----"
"No, I tell you."
"Then I shall go straightway to Herr Dernburg and reveal everything to
him. Your game is lost; give it up!"
"Do you think so?" asked Oscar, wild with rage. "Do not boast until the
end comes, Herr Egbert Runeck. Whatever may come of it, I'll not yield
to you."
"And that is your last word?"
"My last--I stay!"
Egbert silently turned to the door, which, the next minute, had closed
behind him.
Wildenrod was alone. Slowly he went up to his desk, and took down from
the wall a revolver that he held for a long while in his hand. The way
that his father had once taken, when every resource failed, was not to
survive the disgrace of ruin. Here a deeper disgrace was to be
expiated! The pale gleaming of the barrel of the pistol seemed to point
out the same path to the son. But again strong love of life awoke in
the man to whom life and its belongings had ever been more enticing
than honor. Must he, indeed, give up the game as lost? He laid down the
weapon and was soon lost in somber reverie, out of which he suddenly
roused himself, as if by main force, and rigid determination was
stamped upon his darkened countenance.
"To Maia!" said he with spirit. "I shall see whether her love for me
will stand this test. If she gives me up--well, then, there is still
plenty of time to speak one last word with this last friend here!"