That same evening in the elegant salon of the Royal Hotel, Unter den
Linden, sat Count Golm and Councillor Schieler at a table covered with
maps and plans. The two gentlemen had conversed long and eagerly over a
bottle of wine; the bright colour in the Count's cheeks was deeper, and
a certain look of displeasure appeared in his face as he now leaned
back in his rocking-chair, and began silently to rock himself backwards
and forwards; the Councillor still continued to turn over the plans for
a little while, sipped his wine, and then also leaned back, and said:
"I find you, take it all in all, Count Golm, less inclined to concur in
our project than our correspondence had led me to believe."
"But is it our project?" cried the Count, rousing himself. "What does
it signify to me if you want a harbour in the north instead of in the
east? The railway will cut one of my properties in half, and come in
contact with another. Voilà tout! I don't see why I should excite
myself about that."
"We only want the northern harbour because we cannot get the eastern
one," answered the Councillor coolly. "A harbour to the north might be
conceded by the Government. As to one to the east--well, Count Golm, I
think that after such very interesting explanations as you heard at
your own table from the lips of the General and the President, we must
give up any hope of it. Get the concession for the harbour to the
east for us, and the Sundin-Wissow Railway Company will be formed
to-morrow."
"How can I do so if you cannot, who are at the very fountain-head?"
The Councillor shrugged his shoulders.
"You know, Count Golm, that I no longer hold any office, and have only
now and then to give an opinion; that I have not failed to do so on
this side you will believe without my trying to convince you."
"And you have not been able to get the concession?"
"It is not so easily to be had, and especially now when he is busy
getting that bill through. People do not dare go to him with many
questions which would seem to touch upon the great principle of
self-government, which is the order of the day. However--I say it in
the strictest confidence--as soon as this bill, which you know goes
very much against the grain with him, has been brought through the
House of Lords by means of a new creation of peers, and at the same
time as I and all patriots feel the grave of Prussia has been dug, he
will retire in displeasure from his uncomfortably prominent position in
the ministry, and we shall have a better chance next year."
"But I do not want to wait so long," said the Count. He had sprung up
and paced up and down the room with hasty steps; now he returned to the
table where the Councillor, certain that the interview would not be
terminated thus, remained quietly sitting. "And supposing that I wished
to wait so long--the very important question arises of whether I could.
This is a confidential interview, Councillor Schieler. Well, I am in a
bad way. The interest on my debts almost swallows up my income, and by
the first of October there will be an additional sum of fifty thousand
thalers."
"Have you spoken to Hugo Lübbener? I should have thought such a rich
man, and your banker for so many years----"
"He has only been so for three years, since you recommended him to me
so strongly, and besides now my account is very low; my banker's book
has not been made up since last July. I cannot ask any more from
Lübbener; I have not even once been to see him."
"Humph!" said the Councillor, with the air of a man who, thinking he
knows something, now sees it in a new light. "I thought your affairs
were--apart from temporary embarrassments--quite in order. What you now
tell me, with I hope some of the exaggeration of despondency, surprises
me very much indeed--very much."
"I do not exaggerate," replied the Count; "indeed I have said rather
too little than too much."
"But then still less do I understand why our project does not suit you.
The value of both your properties would be doubled, and a directorship
is also certain. That is always something."
"It is nothing--nothing at all!" cried the Count vehemently. "A straw
to a drowning man. What should I do with the paltry hundreds, which I
can win in one evening at _écarte_? No! if once I go in for speculating
it shall not be for nothing; if I make a haul it shall be a good one
which shall compensate for the prick of conscience at going in direct
opposition to all the traditions of my family and doing what Prince
Prora would never condescend to, and which will make me secure in the
future."
The Councillor scratched his long nose with a pencil to hide a smile,
and suppressed the answer which was on the tip of his tongue.
"How can a gambler be safe in the future?" He said instead: "You should
marry, Count Golm!"
"The three negro heads in my coat-of-arms would seem to indicate a
dowry of a round million. Tell me of some fascinating young Jewess!"
"I could name several, but I had no lovely daughter of Israel in my
mind; on the contrary, the daughter of a house which, even if the blood
of the Wends flows in their veins, is nearly as old as yours: Fräulein
Elsa von Werben."
"Are you joking?"
"I never was more in earnest; I have been turning the matter over in my
mind for the last three days, that is to say since the luckiest of all
accidents brought about a personal interview between you and the
Werbens under circumstances which render further social intercourse a
mere matter of duty on both sides. Think now, Count Golm; the chief
opponent of the eastern line of railway is the General--upon
strategical grounds perhaps, but I know the man well enough, certainly
for personal motives also. The harbour can only be upon Warnow ground,
so that the Warnow property must be bought by our company; but it
cannot be bought, at least not at present, without his consent as
co-trustee of the Warnow estates. Very well; marry the daughter, who
must some day inherit half the property, and we shall soon see whether
he will withhold from the son-in-law what he refuses to the Director of
the Sundin-Wissow Railway and Harbour Company. It is not written in
vain: 'Lead us not into temptation.'"
"I think I have learnt to know the General also," cried the Count, "and
I bet a hundred to one he will resist the temptation."
"I never bet," answered the Councillor; "I always calculate, and I find
that the calculation that drops will wear away a stone, though
uncertain, is on the whole correct. But listen! Herr von Wallbach, as
my colleague in the management of the Berlin-Sundin Railway, is as
deeply concerned as I am that the Sundin-Wissow Railway, which would
set us afloat again (you see, Count Golm, I am candour itself), should
be carried out. But Herr von Wallbach, since the death of his father
the minister, has taken his place as one of the trustees of the Warnow
estate; and Ottomar von Werben, who is co-heir, is engaged--or as good
as engaged--to Wallbach's clever sister. Wallbach is too good a man of
business not to know that if half the property is sold, and sold to us,
it will be worth double--double, did I say? it will be worth three or
four times what the whole thing is now; but he is afraid--from some
remnants of aristocratic prejudices (excuse the word) to push the
General too hard. Make common cause with him! I mean marry the
daughter, as his sister marries the son, and--why, I very nearly made a
bet then!"
The Count, who, while the Councillor had been speaking, walked up and
down softly over the carpet, and often stopped so as not to lose a
word, now turned round sharply.
"Good!" said he, "charming! but in any case I am to be the vendor!"
"How do you mean, Count Golm?" said the Councillor.
"Why it is plain enough," answered the Count. "I as neighbour and
son-in-law get the property considerably cheaper than the company, who,
besides, cannot possibly want the whole thing. So I prefer selling what
they want to the company, then buying back from the company what is
necessary for the completion of my estate. I think that is clear."
It was very clear to the Councillor, had been quite clear from the
first moment, and he had only wanted time to recover from his surprise.
The Count's move was a masterly one, which he had never expected from
the reckless young man. He was in the strange position of being obliged
to curb the ardour which he had so artfully roused.
"Bravo!" said he. "We shall have a skilful director in you. I
congratulate ourselves and you in the prospect. At the same time, we
will not divide the skin till we have killed the bear. Till now
we have been reckoning without one person, who is, however, very
powerful--without the Baroness Warnow herself."
"But if she is in the hands of her trustee, and you and Wallbach could
get the better of the General----"
"Only till the first of October! From that day, which happens to be her
fiftieth birthday, the Baroness, by her husband's will, has a voice
amongst the trustees, who then, if you like, become only a committee of
management under her."
"And you think that the Baroness will be against our plan?"
"I think that the opinion of the Baroness upon this and every other
matter is of infinitely less importance to us than that of Signor
Giraldi."
"Her steward?"
"Steward--secretary--companion, I do not know what."
"They say that she is married to him?"
"She will take care not to do that!"
"Why?"
"Because by taking such a step she would lose all right to the estate,
which would then fall immediately to Fräulein von Werben and her
brother, provided they had not imitated the folly of their aunt in
marrying below their rank. Then no one would have any of it except
various benevolent institutions."
"I have, as you may imagine, heard all possible and impossible things
of that wonderful will. Can you and will you satisfy my curiosity,
which now hardly deserves that name?"
"Willingly," said the Councillor. "The slight indiscretion which I
shall commit in so doing I will put down to my credit in our accounts;
but where shall I begin?"
"At the beginning," said the Count. "I know a great deal--I know very
little--I know nothing. You see I am already practising the jargon with
some facility. Shall I send for another bottle?"
"Thanks, thanks. I have still another visit before me; but you are
right, you must know all now, and I will endeavour to be as brief as
possible."
He put his watch which he had just taken out back into his pocket; the
Count leaned back in his chair, and began to rock himself, while the
Councillor scribbled on a bit of paper, and was silent for a few
moments, as if to collect his thoughts.
"You must not expect a private history from me; I could not tell it to
you even if I wished, as in regard to the intimate relations and
feelings of those concerned, I am no better informed than other people,
and I never venture upon the dangerous path of guesses except in
general meetings, when the shareholders are very unruly. So I must
limit myself to relating the facts in chronological order. Well, you
know that the Duchess of ---- is a distant relation of our royal
family. Fräulein Valerie von Werben, as well as her elder sister,
Sidonie, grew up here in Berlin with the Princess. When the Princess
married she first took Valerie to her new court, and when the latter
also married, she allowed the far less interesting and amusing
Sidonie--I think out of charity--to take her place. But that is only by
the way.
"Baron Warnow made Fräulein Valerie's acquaintance in ----, where--for
in those days we were still courteous enough to send ambassadors even
to small courts--he held that office. To see, love, and marry the
handsome and clever girl, and to give up his office to be able to
devote his whole life to her, was the result of a single impulse. That
was in the year 1840.
"From '40 to '43 the young couple lived in Warnow--how? I should be
sorry to say positively; but to judge from my knowledge of mankind, at
first happily, then less happily, and at last--I infer from the
disclosure made me by the Baron in '43--decidedly unhappily. The Baron
and I were friends as students; from that time he honoured me with his
confidence. I had repeatedly acted as his legal adviser, and so was to
a certain extent entitled to receive his confidences, which however
never entered into details.
"The Baron wished to try a different matrimonial régime, to travel with
his young wife, to see the world. I urgently advised it. They went to
London, Paris, and finally to Italy, where however they only stayed a
very short time. When they returned the Baron again came to see me; he
looked wretched; the perpetual change of place had upset his nerves; he
had not been able to stand the climate, and so forth. The truth of the
matter was that he was really ill, only that the seat of his illness
was less in the stomach and nerves than in the heart; in fact he was
jealous, and we may be quite sure not without grounds. At first he
seems to have had various suspicions, but they finally concentrated in
one person, who alone was named--a certain Gregorio Giraldi, whose
acquaintance the Baroness had already made when she was a girl, while
he held some subordinate position as secretary or something of the sort
to the papal ambassador at the Court of ----. However that may be, they
made or renewed acquaintance with Signor Giraldi in Rome. An old
impression was revived, or a new intimacy formed, which certainly
belonged to the category of 'dangerous,' though at least appearances
were kept up, and a ray of hope was left for the miserable husband, or
it would have been impossible that he could have given his consent to a
second journey to Italy a year later. From this he did not return quite
so quickly as from the first, but when he did, it was--alone! The
climate had been even worse for his nerves, so that he could not
recover from the shock, and in fact never did, but failed for six or
seven months, and died in 1845, from a broken heart, as the novels say,
or after long suffering from a heart complaint, as it appeared in the
obituary announcement.
"Luckily death had left him time to make his will, which it took us an
immense time to draw up through the obstinacy of the General, then a
major lately married, and the father of two children since dead. Of
those now living Ottomar was, if I am not mistaken, born in 1847, and
the daughter some years later. From the first moment that the Baron
made the acquaintance of his brother-in-law, which as far as I can
recollect was about the time of his own betrothal with the sister, he
formed the deepest friendship with him--a friendship which matrimonial
disturbances the less interfered with that Werben, who from the
beginning had sided with his brother-in-law, with his usual
determination, held fast to this line of conduct, and in consequence
had many a stormy scene with his giddy but tenderly-loved sister. By
the first draft of the will he was to inherit everything in trust for
his children, while the Baroness only received her legal portion.
Werben positively refused the inheritance for himself, but accepted it
for his children after long consideration, though with the strangest
restrictions. From the very first he had advised and at last obtained
that the possibility of marrying again should not be taken from his
sister, as this step would help her to return to a proper life,
provided that the marriage should be with an equal, and in every way
fitting. Upon the equality and other proprieties of this hypothetic
second marriage the trustees--Herr von Werben himself, Herr von
Wallbach (the father of the present man), and I--had to decide, as well
as upon every other detail of the will. If the Baroness made an unequal
second marriage against the will of the trustees, she was then reduced
at once to her legal portion. If she remained unmarried, then the use
of half of the revenues of the estate would be left to her entirely.
The other half was to accumulate as capital, deducting a very moderate
sum for the education of the General's children, who on their side
would receive equal parts of the revenues of the second half on
attaining majority, only that the daughter would attain majority upon
her marriage, whose propriety and equality were to be decided by the
trustees as in the first case. If they, the children, whether son or
daughter, contracted an unsuitable marriage, they lost thereby all
claim to the succession, and their portion lapsed as if the delinquent
were no longer alive.
"To put it shortly: the Baroness and the General's children succeed one
another in turns, so that, for instance, if the General's children die
or lose their rights in the way I have mentioned, the Baroness becomes
sole heiress of the estates and has free disposal of everything, as, on
the contrary, either of the other heirs would have free disposal if the
Baroness died or forfeited her rights."
"A strange will," said the Count, who had listened with such breathless
attention that he had even forgotten to rock himself.
"I am only answerable for the drawing up," answered the Councillor;
"the actual provisions are entirely the General's work, who is, by the
way, the most conscientious or rather pedantic of men, and with his
speeches about uprightness and justice on all sides makes life
intolerable to every one. I assure you he might have had the whole
thing without any trouble, and now all these restrictions and
obstacles! I have mentioned one already which especially for us just
now is very important."
"The Baroness taking part in the management?"
"Exactly, which takes place in a few weeks. If we are then in a
position to get the Baroness--or her factotum, which comes to the same
thing--on our side, we shall certainly have the upper hand, and the
General's opposition will be broken down, so far at all events. In any
other case--and we must be prepared for such--our beautiful plan of
getting the Warnow estates into our own hands is as like a soap-bubble
as one egg is like another."
"And you have not once tried to sound the Baroness?" exclaimed the
Count in a tone of reproach.
"I thought there would be time enough when the Baroness arrived here
for the approaching arrangements for which her actual presence is
indispensable. She is already on her way according to the last letter
from Munich, where she proposes to spend this month. But now I will
certainly do all I can to persuade her either to come sooner herself,
or at least to send her factotum."
"You know this gentleman?"
"Not personally, only through letters. Signor Giraldi is unquestionably
a remarkable individual; scholar, diplomatist, artist, and man of
business--the latter of the very first rank; a contest with him--à la
bonne heure! I would rather have the devil himself as an adversary. But
I am wasting time in chatter, though in a very pleasant way."
The Councillor rose; the Count rocked himself again, looking put out.
"You are very kind," said he, "but excuse my observing that I am no
wiser than I was before."
"Then excuse my remarking, Count Golm, that I think you are rather
ungrateful," replied the Councillor, drawing on his gloves. "I have
done more for you than I would for our own shareholders, even if they
went down on their knees to me in a body. I have laid before you the
actual position of the Berlin-Sundin Railway Company; I have confessed
that our only hope is a continuation of the Sundin railway through your
island to some harbour which will be, as it were, the head of the
serpent; in other words that we can only save our first project by a
second, which will be supported by the first. On this point our
interests are common, however much apart they may be elsewhere. It is
our interest to obtain this continuation, even if that head of the
serpent, the harbour, were in the moon, let alone anywhere upon the
island, even in the north. Your interests demand that an Eastern
terminus should be chosen, to which the railway would run through your
whole property. Good. I come to you--offer you, so to say, my
outstretched hand, show you the means and the way, how, by some quite
possible cleverness, you may set aside all present obstacles which are
in your way--remember that, Count Golm--not in ours--for this object
put you in possession of a family secret as I did before of a business
secret, and finally offer you, if I may so express myself, the hand of
a young, handsome, and charming woman, and you tell me that I have come
in vain!"
The Councillor took up his hat, but the Count still did not move from
his seat.
"It certainly is most ungrateful of me," said he, "but you know no one
is pleased with the most agreeable of prospects when he is in such a
disagreeable position as I am."
The Councillor slowly brushed the top of his hat round and round with
his elbow.
"I am going to make a proposal, Count Golm. We have both spoken warmly;
a walk in the cool of the evening will do you good also; take your hat
and let me have the honour of taking you with me on my visit."
"Who are you going to see?"
"The contractor of our railway, Herr Philip Schmidt."
The Count raised himself in his chair, and then let himself immediately
fall back.
"I hate the name," he said moodily.
"What in all the world has the name to do with the matter?" answered
the Councillor; "and really Herr Philip Schmidt will take it as a
matter of course that it should be a great honour to him to make the
personal acquaintance of Count Golm; and, furthermore, Herr Schmidt is
not only a rich but a rising man, and, as our contractor, is very
intimate with our banker, Herr Hugo Lübbener, who is also Count Golm's
banker--enfin, the most appropriate individual to arrange a temporary
difficulty for the Count, or if as I can fancy this way would not suit
him, to enable him to settle the various accounts with Lübbener in the
most speedy manner."
"But one cannot storm a man's very door," cried the Count; "you must at
least make some excuse for me."
"That is easily done," said the Councillor; "Herr Schmidt is the happy
possessor of one of our finest private picture-galleries. Count Golm's
passion for art is well known; what more natural than that Count Golm
should call upon Herr Schmidt, as Herr Schmidt, with the best will in
the world, cannot bring his gallery to the Count's hotel?"
"Only that nine o'clock in the evening is perhaps not the best hour for
such a purpose," said the Count, looking at the clock.
"For what purpose were reflectors invented?" answered the Councillor,
smiling.
"I will go with you!" exclaimed the Count, springing up.
The Councillor coughed behind his hat, and thus happily hid the smile
that played about his broad, beardless lip.
"After all it will not do," said the Count. "I promised Herr von
Werben----"
"The Lieutenant?"
"Of course, to be at home; he wished to fetch me at ten o'clock, to
take me I do not know where."
"Herr von Werben would not think much of such an obstacle," said the
Councillor, with well-acted repressed impatience; "write on a card that
you are at So-and-so's, and beg him to come and fetch you."
"But he does not know this man!"
"Yes, he does; I happen to know it from Herr Schmidt himself."
The Count had rung for his servant to give him his hat and gloves. The
two gentlemen went towards the door.
"If only his name were not Schmidt," said the Count, standing still.
"What a strange mania! all great men are afflicted with something of
the sort!--After you, Count Golm."
"Not at all! I am at home here!"
And the gentlemen left the room.