At Castle Wilicza there reigned a dull sultry atmosphere, pregnant with
storms, which made itself felt even in the servants' quarters. Since
Herr Nordeck's return from the border-station on the previous evening
in the company of Countess Morynska, the barometer had stood at stormy
point in the upper regions of the great house--of this there was but
too good evidence. The young Countess had had an interview with her
aunt on the evening of her arrival, but since then had not left her
room. The Princess herself was but rarely visible; but when she
appeared, her countenance was such that the domestics thought fit to
keep as much as possible out of her way. They knew that frowning brow
and those tightly set lips augured nothing good. Even Waldemar did not
show his accustomed cold composure, the unruffled calm which he was
wont to oppose to the outer world at the very time when the fiercest
emotions were raging within him. There was something gloomy and
irritable in his manner. Perhaps the repulse he had twice met with from
Wanda during the day might be the cause of this. He had not succeeded
in getting sight of her since the moment when he had laid her, half
fainting from agitation and loss of blood, in his mother's arms. She
refused to see him, and yet he knew that she was not seriously ill. The
Doctor had assured him over and over again that the Countess's wound
was not dangerous, and that she would be able to leave for Rakowicz on
the following day, though he had felt it his duty to oppose her wish of
returning home at once.
The young landowner had not indeed much time to devote to such matters;
demands on his attention flowed in from all quarters. The ranger's
corpse was brought over to Wilicza, and then it was that news of the
foresters' flight was had. It was necessary that the station should at
once be placed under other care, and that measures should be taken to
insure the safety of Inspector Fellner, who had been sent over _ad
interim_. Waldemar was forced to order and direct everything himself.
Then came Assessor Hubert, tormenting him with his interrogatories, his
protocols, and his advice, until he lost patience, and resorted to his
mother's approved expedient for shaking off importunate persons.
Hardly, however, was he quit of the Assessor and his fancied
discoveries, when fresh claims were made upon his time and thoughts.
News had been carried to L---- of the state of affairs in the
insurgents' camp, and it was known that there would, in all
probability; be fighting close to the frontier within the next few
days. Orders had been issued in consequence by the military
authorities. The forces stationed along the border were to be
considerably strengthened, so as to guard the territory on this side
from possible violation or disturbance.
A strong detachment of troops passed through Wilicza; and whilst the
men halted down in the village, the officers, who were personally
acquainted with Nordeck, rode up to the Castle. The Princess was
invisible, of course. She had always been invisible to her son's guests
since the latter had openly declared himself against her and hers; so
Waldemar was obliged to receive the new-comers himself--whether he
were, or were not, at that moment disposed to see strangers, no one
thought of inquiring. It behoved him to show them a quiet, impassible
brow, in order that they should gain no further information on the
subject of the family tragedy than that of which they were already
possessed. They knew the role which their host's brother and uncle were
playing in the insurrection, the position in which the son stood
towards his mother. This was all food for daily gossip in L----, and
Waldemar was keenly alive to the solicitous care they showed to avoid
in his presence all allusion to these matters, abstaining even from any
mention of the revolt, except as connected with the latest military
movements on the German side. At last, late in the afternoon, the
detachment set out on its way again, so as to reach its destination on
the frontier before dark. Finally Dr. Fabian, the happy lover and
future Professor, appeared with his double news, for which he claimed
his old pupil's interest and sympathy, obliging the latter to take part
in another's joy at the moment when he saw his own happiness hopelessly
shattered and wrecked. It required, indeed, a nature of finely tempered
steel, such as Nordeck's, to face all this with a stoical appearance of
calm composure.
Early on the second day after the event at the border-station, the
Princess sat alone in her drawing-room. Her face told plainly that
there had been little rest for her that night. The grey, misty morning
light without was too faint to penetrate into that lofty, dim
apartment, the greater part of which was still wrapped in shadow; only
the fire on the hearth sent its restless, flickering gleams on the
carpet around, and on the figure of the Princess sitting close by, lost
in gloomy thought.
Resting her head on her hand, she meditated long and sadly. The
accounts which had reached her of the late occurrences still agitated
and engrossed her mind. This woman, whose constant rule it was to take
her stand on the domain of facts, and adroitly to shape her plans in
accordance with them, found herself for once unable to meet the
difficulties before her. So all had been in vain! The unsparing rigour
with which she had torn the veil from her niece's mind, in order to arm
the girl against a growing passion; the absolute separation lasting
through long months; the late interview at Rakowicz--all had been in
vain! The sight of Waldemar in peril had sufficed in one single instant
to scatter all other considerations to the wind. Soon after her
arrival, Wanda had told her aunt all that had happened. The young
Countess was too proud, too completely under the bias of national
prejudices, not to seek at once to clear herself from any suspicion of
what the Princess called 'treason.' She declared to this stern judge
that she had sent no warning, had betrayed no trust; that only at the
last moment, when all secrets connected with the station were beyond
concealment, had she stepped forward and interfered. How she had acted,
what she had done to save Waldemar, she was equally unable to conceal;
the wound on her arm was there to bear evidence against her.
The entrance of her son roused the Princess from all the tormenting
thoughts which were racking her brain. She knew whence he came. Pawlick
had informed her that this morning, for the third time, Herr Nordeck
had attempted to gain admittance to the Countess Morynska, and that on
this occasion he had obtained what he sought. Waldemar approached
slowly, until he stood opposite his mother.
"You come from Wanda?" said she.
"Yes."
The Princess looked up in his face, which at this moment was clearly
lighted up by a blaze of the fitful fire. There were lines of pain in
it--of pain, bitter but repressed.
"So you forced an entrance in spite of her repeated denial? But what,
indeed, could _you_ fail to accomplish! Well, the interview must have
convinced you that it was no prohibition of mine which closed Wanda's
door, as you so positively assumed. It was her own wish not to see you,
a wish you have lightly enough regarded."
"After what Wanda risked on my behalf the day before yesterday, I had
at least the right to see and speak to her. It was necessary for me to
speak to her. Oh, do not be afraid!" he went on with rising bitterness,
as the Princess was about to interrupt him. "Your niece has fully
justified your expectations, and has done all that lay in her power to
rob me of hope. She believes, no doubt, that she is prompted by her own
will alone, while, in reality, she is blindly submitting to be led by
yours. Those were your words, your views, which I have just had
expounded to me by her mouth. If left to herself, I should perhaps have
succeeded, have gained my end by persistent effort, as I succeeded in
getting speech of her; but I lost sight of the fact that for the last
forty-eight hours she has been exclusively under your influence. You
have represented that promise which you persuaded her into giving my
brother, which you forced from her when little more than a child, as an
irrevocable vow, to break which were mortal sin. You have so baited her
with your national prejudices ..."
"Waldemar!" exclaimed his mother, indignantly.
"With the prejudice," he repeated, emphatically, "that it would be
treason to her family and to her people, if she were to consent to
listen to me, because it happens that I am a German, and that
circumstances have forced me into an attitude of hostility towards your
party. Well, you have attained your object. She would rather die now
than lift a hand to free herself, or give me leave to do it for her;
and for this I have to thank you, and you alone."
"I certainly reminded Wanda of her duty," replied the Princess, coldly.
"My words were, however, hardly needed. Reflection had brought her to
her senses, and I trust this may now be the case with you. Ever since
the day on which you openly declared yourself my enemy, I have known
that your old boyish fancy was not extinct, but that it had, on the
contrary, developed into a passion with you. In what measure this
passion was returned, I only learned yesterday. It would be useless to
reproach you with what has happened. No recrimination can undo it now,
but you must feel that you owe it both to yourself and to Leo to
consent to an absolute separation. Wanda sees this and agrees to it.
You must submit also."
"Must I?" asked Waldemar. "You know, mother, that submission is not my
forte, especially where all the happiness of my life is at stake."
The Princess looked up with an expression of surprise and alarm. "What
do you mean? Would you wish to rob your brother of his betrothed, after
robbing him of her love?"
"That Leo never possessed. Wanda did not know her own heart when she
yielded to his affection for her, to her father's wish and yours, and
to the family plans. It is I who possess her love, and now that I have
this certainty, I shall know how to defend my own."
"You take a high tone, Waldemar," said the Princess, almost scornfully.
"Have you reflected as to what answer your brother will be likely to
make to such a claim on your part?"
"If my betrothed declared to me that she had given her love to another,
I would set her free, absolutely, unconditionally, no matter what I
might suffer through it," replied the young man, steadily. "Leo, if I
know him, is not the man to do this. He will be beside himself with
rage, will distract Wanda with his jealousy, and will inflict on us a
series of violent scenes."
"Are you the one to prescribe moderation, you who have done him the
deadliest injury?" returned his mother. "True, Leo is far away,
fighting in his people's sacred cause, hourly risking his life, and
little dreaming the while that his brother, behind his back ..."
She stopped, for Waldemar's hand was laid firmly on hers. "Mother,"
he said, in a voice which acted as a warning to the Princess--she
knew that with him this low constrained tone always preceded an
outbreak--"no more of this. You do not believe in these imputations
yourself. You know better than any one how Wanda and I have struggled
against this passion--know what a moment it was which unsealed our
lips. Behind Leo's back! In my room lies the letter which I was writing
to him before I went to Wanda. My interview with her need make no
change in it. He must be told that the word 'love' has been spoken
between us. We could neither of us endure to conceal it from him. I
intended to give you the letter. You alone have positive information as
to where Leo is now to be found, and you can provide for its reaching
him in safety."
"On no account," cried the Princess, hastily. "I know my son's hot
blood too well to impose such torture on him. To remain at a distance,
possibly for months, a prey to the keenest jealousy, conscious that he
is here threatened in that which he holds most dear--such a trial is
beyond his strength. And yet he must persevere, must remain at his post
until all is decided. No, no, that is not to be thought of. I have
Wanda's word that she will be silent, and you must give me a promise
too. She returns to Rakowicz to-day, and, so soon as she has quite
recovered, will go to our relations in M----, to stay there until Leo
has come back and can defend his rights in person."
"I am aware of it; she told me so herself," replied Waldemar, gloomily.
"It seems she cannot put miles enough between us now. All that love,
that desperation could suggest, I tried with her--in vain. She met me
always with the same unalterable 'no.' Be it so, then, until Leo's
return. Perhaps you are right; it will be better that we should settle
this matter face to face. For myself, I should certainly prefer it. I
am ready to meet him at any moment; what may betide, when we do come
together, is another and a very different question!"
The Princess rose, and went up to her son. "Waldemar, give up these
senseless hopes. I tell you, Wanda would never be yours, even were she
free. The obstacles between you are too many, too insurmountable. You
are mistaken if you reckon on any change of mind in her. What you term
national prejudice is her very life's blood, the food on which she has
been nourished since her earliest youth; she cannot renounce it,
without renouncing life itself. Even though she love you, the daughter
of the Morynskis, the betrothed of Prince Baratowski, knows what duty
and honour require of her; and did she not know it, we are there to
remind her--I, her father, above all Leo himself."
A well-nigh contemptuous smile played about the young man's lips, as he
replied, "Do you really imagine that one of you could hinder me if I
had Wanda's consent? That she should refuse it me, that she should
forbid me to fight on her side, and to win her--there's the sting which
nearly overcame me just now. But, no matter! A man who, like myself,
has never in his life known what love is, and who suddenly sees such
felicity before him, does not forego and put it from him so easily. The
prize is too high for me to yield it up without a struggle. Where I
have all to win, I may stake all, and, were the obstacles between us
tenfold more formidable, Wanda should still be mine!"
There was an indomitable energy in the words. The red firelight from
the hearth shone up into Waldemar's face, which at this moment looked
as though cast in bronze. Once again the Princess was fain to recognise
the fact that it was her son who stood before her with that ominous
blue mark on his brow, with the look and bearing 'of his mother
herself.' Hitherto she had sought in vain to account for the wonderful,
the incredible circumstance that Waldemar--cold, gloomy, repellant
Waldemar--could be preferred to her Leo; that he should have triumphed
over his handsome, chivalrous brother in the matter of a woman's
love,--but now, in this moment, she understood it all.
"Have you forgotten who is your rival?" she asked, with grave emphasis.
"Brother against brother! Shall I look on at a hostile, perhaps a fatal
encounter between my sons? Do you neither of you heed a mother's
anguish?"
"Your sons!" repeated Waldemar. "If a mother's anguish, a mother's
fondness here come in question, the words can only apply to one son.
You cannot forgive me for disturbing your darling's happiness, and I
know a solution of the problem which would cost you but few tears. Make
your mind easy. What I can do to prevent a catastrophe, I will do. Take
care that Leo does not make it impossible for me to think of him as a
brother. Your influence over him is unlimited, he will listen to you. I
have learned to place a restraint on myself, as you are aware; but
there are bounds even to my self-control. Should Leo drive me beyond
these bounds, I will answer for nothing. He does not show a very nice
regard for the honour of others, when he thinks himself injured in any
way."
They were interrupted. A servant brought word to his master that a
noncommissioned officer, belonging to the detachment which had passed
through Wilicza on the previous day, was below and urgent in his
entreaty to be allowed to see Herr Nordeck at once. Waldemar went out.
During the last few days he had grown accustomed to these disturbing
calls upon him, coming always at the moment when he was least disposed
to meet them.
The sergeant announced was waiting in the anteroom. He brought a polite
message and a request from the commanding officer. The detachment had
no sooner arrived at its new post than it had been obliged to proceed
to action. There had been serious fighting during the night; it had
ended in the discomfiture of the insurgents, who had fled in the
greatest disorder, hotly pursued by the victors. Some of the fugitives
had taken refuge on this side the frontier; they had been arrested and
disarmed by a body of patrols, and were now to be sent under escort to
L----. Among them, however, were a few so seriously wounded that it was
feared they would not be able to bear the transport. The captain begged
that the sick might, for the present, be lodged at Wilicza, which lay
within easy reach. The ambulance was now waiting in the village below.
Waldemar was ready on the instant to comply with the demand upon him,
and at once ordered the necessary arrangements to be made at the
manor-farm for the reception of the wounded men. He went over himself
in company of the sergeant.
The Princess remained alone. She had not heard the news, nor taken any
notice of the message which had summoned her son away. Her mind was
busy with far other thoughts.
What would come now? This question arose ever anew before her, like a
menacing spectre which was not to be laid. The Princess knew her sons
well enough to feel what might be expected, were they to meet as
enemies--and deadly enemies they would assuredly be from the moment Leo
discovered the truth; Leo, whose jealousy had at the first vague
suspicion blazed forth so hotly that it had almost seduced him from his
duty--should he now learn that Waldemar had indeed robbed him of the
love of his betrothed--should Waldemar's merely external calm give way
and his native fierceness break out again with its old violence.... The
mother shuddered, recoiling from the abyss which seemed to open out
before her mental vision. She knew she should be powerless then, even
with her youngest-born--that in this matter her influence with him had
been exerted to the uttermost. Waldemar and Leo had each their father's
blood in their veins, and however great the contrast between Nordeck
and Prince Baratowski may have been, in one thing they resembled each
other--in their incapability of bridling their passions when once fully
aroused.
The door of the adjoining room was opened. Perhaps it was Waldemar
coming back--he had been called away in the midst of their
conversation; but the step was more rapid, less steady than his. There
came a rustle in the portieres, they were hastily pulled back, and with
a cry of fear and joy the Princess started from her seat.
"Leo, you here!"
Prince Baratowski was in his mother's arms. He returned her embrace,
but he had no word of greeting for her. Silently and hastily he pressed
her to him, but his manner betrayed no gladness at the meeting.
"Whence do you come?" she asked, reflection, and with it anxiety,
quickly regaining the upper hand. "So suddenly, so unexpectedly! And
how could you be so imprudent as to venture up to the Castle in broad
daylight? You must know that you are liable to be arrested! Patrols are
out all over the country. Why did you not wait till dusk?"
Leo raised himself from her arms. "I have waited long enough. I left
yesterday evening; all night I have been on the rack--it was impossible
to pass the frontier. I had to lie in hiding. At last, at daybreak I
managed to cross and to reach the Wilicza woods, but it was hard work
to get to the Castle."
He panted this out in agitated, broken phrases. His mother noticed now
how pale and troubled he looked. She drew him down on to a seat, almost
by force.
"Rest; you are exhausted by the effort and the risk. What madness to
hazard life and freedom for the sake of just seeing us again! You must
have known that our anxiety on your account would more than
counterbalance our joy. I cannot understand how Bronislaus could let
you leave. There must be fighting going on all round you."
"No, no," said Leo, hastily. "Nothing will be done for the next four
and twenty hours. We have exact information as to the enemy's position.
The day after to-morrow--to-morrow, perhaps--may be decisive, but till
then all will be quiet. If there were fighting on hand, I should not be
here; as it was, I could not keep away from Wilicza, even though my
coming should cost me my life or my freedom."
The Princess looked at him uneasily. "Leo, your uncle has given you
leave of absence?" she asked suddenly, seized, as it were, by some
vague dread.
"Yes, yes," replied the young Prince, keeping his eyes averted from his
mother's face. "I tell you all has been foreseen and arranged. I am
posted with my detachment in the woods about A----, in an excellent
position, well covered. My adjutant has the command until I return."
"And Bronislaus?"
"My uncle has assembled the main forces at W----, quite close to the
border. I cover his rear with my troops. But now, mother, ask me no
more questions. Where is Waldemar?"
"Your brother?" said the Princess, at once surprised and alarmed, for
she began to divine the secret connection of events. "Can it be that
you come on his account?"
"I come to seek Waldemar," Leo broke out with stormy vehemence,
"Waldemar and no one else. He is not at the Castle, Pawlick says, but
Wanda is here. So he really did bring her over to Wilicza like a
captured prey, like a chattel of his own--and she allowed it to be! But
I will show him to whom she belongs. I will show him--and her too."
"For God's sake, tell me--you have heard ..."
"What happened at the border-station? Yes, I have heard it. Osiecki's
men joined me yesterday. They brought me word of what they had seen.
Perhaps you understand now why I came over to Wilicza at any risk?"
"This was what I feared!" said the Princess, under her breath.
Leo sprang up, and stood before her with flashing eyes. "And you have
suffered this, mother; you have stood by looking on while my love, my
rights, were being trampled under foot--you who can control, can
command obedience from every one! Has this Waldemar subdued you too? Is
there no one left who dares oppose him? Fool that I was to allow myself
to be talked out of calling him to account before I left, to be
dissuaded from taking Wanda away to a distance where no further meeting
between them would have been possible! But"--speaking now in a tone of
bitter sarcasm--"but my suspicion was an insult to her, and my uncle
accounted my 'blind jealousy' as a crime. Can you see now with your own
eyes? Whilst I was fighting to the death for my country's freedom and
salvation, my betrothed was risking her life for the man who openly
declares himself on the side of our oppressors, who has set his foot on
our necks here in Wilicza, just as the tyrants out yonder have tried to
crush our kindred and friends. She betrays me, forgets her country,
people, family, all, that she may shield him in a moment of peril.
Perhaps she will try to protect him from me; but she had better beware.
I care nothing now which of us perishes, whether it be he or I, or she
with us both."
The Princess seized his hands, as though imploring him to restrain his
fury. "Be calm, Leo; I entreat, I require it of you. You shall not rush
to meet your brother in this spirit of fierce hatred. Listen to me
first."
Leo tore himself free. "I have listened to too much. I have heard
enough to make me mad. Wanda threw herself into his arms when Osiecki
levelled his rifle at him, screened him with her own body, made her
breast his shield--and I am still to hesitate to speak of treachery!
Where is Waldemar? Not so hidden but he can be discovered, I suppose?"
His mother tried in vain to soothe her darling; he did not listen to
her, and while she was considering how, in what manner, it might yet be
possible to avert that fatal meeting, the worst befell, which at that
moment well could have befallen. Waldemar came back.
He entered with a rapid step, and was going up to the Princess, when he
caught sight of Leo. More than surprise, horror and alarm were
portrayed on the elder brother's face at the sight. He turned very
pale, and measured the younger man from head to foot; then his eye
flashed as though with scorn and anger, and he said slowly--
"So this is where you are to be found!"
Leo's countenance betrayed a sort of savage satisfaction on seeing the
object of his hate before him. "You did not expect to see me?" he
asked.
Waldemar made no reply. His more prudent and reflective mind at once
took in the thought of the danger to which Leo was here exposing
himself. He turned, went into the next room and closed the door, and
then came back to them.
"No," he replied, only now answering the question, "and your mother
hardly expected it either."
"I wanted to congratulate you on your heroic deed at the
border-station, for you probably look on it in the light of an
exploit," went on the young Prince, with undisguised scorn. "You shot
down the ranger, and showed a bold front to the rest of the band, I
hear. The dastards did not dare to touch you."
"They crossed the frontier the same night," said Waldemar, "to join
you, probably."
"Yes."
"I thought so. When did you leave your post?"
"Are you going to put me on my trial?" exclaimed Leo. "I am here to
call you to account. Come, we have some matters to talk over together."
"Stay," commanded the Princess. "You shall not meet alone. If an
explanation is inevitable, I will be present at it. Perhaps you will
then not altogether forget that you are brothers."
"Brother or not, he has been guilty of the most shameful treachery
towards me. He knew that Wanda was engaged to me, and he did not
hesitate to decoy her and her love from me. It was the act of a
traitor, of a co ..."
His mother tried to stop him, but in vain. The word 'coward' fell from
his lips, and Waldemar started as though a ball had struck him. The
Princess grew ashy pale. It was not the frenzied passion of her younger
son which so alarmed her, but the expression on the face of the elder
as he drew himself erect. It was Waldemar she held back, Waldemar she
feared, though he was unarmed, while Leo wore his sword at his side.
Stepping between them with all a mother's authority, she called to them
imperatively--
"Waldemar! Leo! control yourselves, I command you."
When the Princess Baratowska issued a command in such a tone and such a
manner, she never failed to obtain a hearing. Even at this crisis her
sons, almost involuntarily, obeyed her behest. Leo let fall the hand he
had already raised to his sword-hilt, and Nordeck paused. The struggle
in the strong man against his old furious violence was terrible to
behold; but his mother's words had caused him to reflect a moment, and
more was not wanting now to recall him to himself.
"Leo, there have been insults enough," he said, hoarsely. "One word,
one single word more, and there will indeed be nothing left us but an
appeal to arms. If yesterday you still had the right to accuse me, you
have forfeited that right to-day. I love Wanda more than you can dream
of; for you have not, as I have, fought for years against this
passion--have not borne aversion, separation, mortal peril, only, after
all, to attain to a conviction that love is stronger than you. But,
even for Wanda's sake, I would not have given up duty and honour, would
not have deserted my appointed post, would not secretly have abandoned
the troops entrusted to me, and broken the oath of obedience I had
sworn to my leader. All this you have done. Our mother shall decide
which of us deserves the ignominious word you have flung at me."
"What is this, Leo?" cried the Princess, startled, a great fear taking
possession of her. "You are here with your uncle's knowledge and
consent? You had express leave from him to come to Wilicza? Answer me!"
A crimson flush dyed the young Prince's face, which up to this time had
been so pale. He did not venture to meet his mother's eye, but turned
upon Waldemar with sudden and furious defiance.
"What do you know of my duty? What matter is it to you? You are on the
side of our enemies. I have stood my ground so far without flinching,
and I shall be forthcoming when I am wanted; for that very reason, this
matter between us must be quickly settled. I have not much time in
which to reckon with you. I must go back to my men to-day, in the
course of an hour or two."
"You will arrive too late," said Waldemar, coldly. "You will not find
them."
Leo evidently did not grasp the meaning of the words he heard. He
stared at his brother, as though the latter had been speaking in some
foreign tongue.
"How long have you been absent from your command?" asked Waldemar
again, this time with such terrible earnest that Leo half involuntarily
made answer--
"Since yesterday evening."
"A surprise took place during the night. Your troops are routed,
dispersed."
A cry broke from the young Prince's lips. He rushed up to the speaker.
"It is impossible--it cannot be! You lie--you wish to scare me, to
drive me away."
"No, it cannot be," said the Princess, with quivering lips. "You cannot
have news of what happened out yonder during the night, Waldemar. I
should have heard it before you. You are deceiving us; do not resort to
such means."
Waldemar looked at his mother in silence for a few seconds--at the
mother who preferred to accuse him of a lie than to believe in an error
of his brother's. Perhaps it was this which made him so icy and
pitiless, as he went on.
"An important post was confided to Prince Baratowski, with strict
orders not to stir from it. He and his troops covered his uncle's rear.
Prince Baratowski was absent from his post when the night attack was
made--successfully. The leader was absent, and those who remained
behind showed themselves unequal to their task. Taken by surprise, they
offered but a weak resistance, totally without plan or method. A
terrible slaughter followed. About twenty men took refuge on this
territory, and fell into the hands of our patrols. Three of the
fugitives lie, grievously wounded, over at the manor-farm. From their
mouths I learned what had happened. All the rest are dispersed or
destroyed."
"And my brother?" asked the Princess, calm, to all appearance, but with
an awful, unnatural calm. "And the Morynski corps? What has become of
them?"
"I do not know," replied Waldemar. "It is said that the victors
advanced on W----. No news has reached us of what has taken place
there."
He was silent. There was a pause of terrible stillness. Leo had hidden
his face in his hands; a deep groan escaped his breast. The Princess
stood erect, her eyes steadily fixed on him. She panted for breath.
"Leave us, Waldemar," said she at last.
He hesitated. His mother had always shown herself cold, often enough
hostile to him. Here, on this very spot, she had confronted him as a
bitter enemy at the time when the contest for supremacy at Wilicza had
brought about an open rupture; but he had never yet seen her as she
appeared at this moment, and he, this hard, relentless Nordeck, was
seized with a feeling akin to anxiety and compassion, as he read his
brother's doom in her face.
"Mother!" he said, in a low tone.
"Go," she repeated. "I have to talk with Prince Baratowski. No third
person can come between us. Leave us alone."
Waldemar obeyed and left the room, but his heart swelled within him as
he went. He was banished in order that the mother might talk to her
son. If she were now about to let that son feel her anger, as she had
so often testified to him her affection, he, the elder, was still a
stranger, as he had ever been. He was told to go; he could not 'come
between' his mother and brother, whether they met in love or hate. A
great bitterness took possession of Nordeck's soul, and yet he felt
that in this hour he was avenged--that his mother, who had ever denied
to him her love, was punished now in her tenderest point, punished
through her darling, the child she had idolised.
Waldemar closed the curtains behind him. He remained in the next room,
so as to guard the entrance, come what might, for he was fully sensible
of the danger to which Leo was exposed. Prince Baratowski had taken too
open and decided a part in the insurrection not to be placed under a
ban, even on this side the frontier; even here condemnation and
imprisonment awaited him. He had imprudently come up to the Castle in
broad daylight. The troop, which had escorted the wounded men, was
still in the village, and at any moment a detachment, convoying the
other fugitives to L----, might pass through Wilicza. It was necessary
to take some precautionary measures.
Waldemar stood at the window, as far from the door as possible. He
would hear nothing of the interview from which he had been shut
out--and, indeed, it was impossible for any sound to penetrate the
heavy velvet folds of the thick portieres. But time pressed. More than
half an hour had elapsed, and the two were still closeted together.
Neither the Princess nor Leo seemed mindful of the fact that the
latter's danger grew with every minute. Waldemar, at length, resolved
to interrupt them. He went back into the drawing-room; but paused with
astonishment on entering, for instead of the agitating scene he had
expected to witness, he found the most absolute silence. The Princess
had disappeared, and the door of her study, which had previously stood
open, was now closed. Leo was alone in the room. He lay back in an
armchair, his head buried in the cushions, and neither stirred nor in
any way noticed his brother's appearance. He seemed utterly crushed and
broken. Waldemar went up to him, and spoke his name.
"Rouse yourself," he said, in a low, urgent tone. "Take some thought
for your safety. We are now connected with L---- in a hundred ways. I
cannot secure the Castle from visits which would be dangerous for you.
Retire to your own rooms in the first instance. They will be thought
empty and closed as heretofore, and Pawlick is trustworthy. Come."
Slowly Leo raised his head. Every drop of blood had receded from his
face; it was grey with an ashy pallor. He fixed his large, vacant eyes
on his brother, seeming not to understand him, but his ear caught the
last word mechanically.
"Come where?" he asked.
"Away, in the first place, from these reception-rooms, which are
accessible to so many. Come, I beg of you."
Leo rose in the same mechanical way. He looked round the salon with a
strange expression, as if the familiar place were unknown to him, and
he were trying to recall where he was; but as his eye fell upon the
closed door of his mother's study, he shuddered.
"Where is Wanda?" he asked at length.
"In her room. Do you wish to see her?"
The young Prince shook his head. "No. She, too, would repulse me with
horror and contempt. I don't care to go through it again."
He leaned heavily on the chair; his voice, usually so clear in its
youthful freshness, sounded faint and exhausted. It was plain that the
scene he had gone through with his mother had completely shattered him.
"Leo," said Waldemar, earnestly, "if you had not exasperated me so
terribly, I should not have told you the news in that abrupt way. You
drove me beyond bounds with that fatal word."
"Be satisfied; my mother has given it me back. It is I who am the
traitor--the coward. I had to listen and be silent."
There was something most unnatural in this rigid, dull calm,
contrasting so strongly with the young man's usual fiery impetuosity.
That one half-hour seemed to have altered his whole nature.
"Follow me," urged Waldemar. "For the present you must remain at the
Castle."
"No, I shall go over to W---- at once. I must know what has become of
my uncle and the rest."
"For God's sake, do nothing so rash," exclaimed the elder brother, in
great alarm. "What, you would be mad enough to cross the frontier now,
in broad daylight? It would be neither more nor less than suicide."
"I must," persisted Leo. "I know the place where I can cross. I found
the way this morning, and I can find it a second time."
"And I tell you, you cannot get across. The sentinels on our side
have been doubled since the morning, and over the border there is a
treble line to pass. Orders are out to shoot down any one who does not
give the watchword--and, in any case, you would arrive too late. At
W---- the fate of the day has been decided long ere this."
"No matter," broke out Leo, suddenly passing from his torpor to a state
of wildest desperation. "There will still be some fighting--one other
encounter, and I want no more. If you knew how my mother has maddened
me with her fearful words! She must feel that if my men have been lost
through fault of mine, I shall have to bear all the curse, the hell of
knowing it. She should have been merciful, instead of ... Oh, God! Yet
she is my mother, and for so long I have been all in all to her!"
Waldemar stood by, deeply moved at this outbreak of grief. "I will call
Wanda," he said at last. "She will ..."
"She will do the same. You do not know the women of our people. But,
for that very reason"--a sort of gloomy triumph gleamed through the
young Prince's despair--"for that very reason, you need hope nothing
from them. Wanda will never be yours, never, even though she could
step over my dead body to you, though she may love you, and die of
her love. You are the enemy of her people. You help in the work of
oppression--that will decide your sentence with her. No Polish woman
will be your wife--and it is well that it is so," he went on, with a
deep-drawn sigh. "I could not have died in peace with the thought of
leaving her in your arms; now I am at ease on that point. She is lost
to you as to me."
He would have hurried away, but suddenly stopped, as though a spell had
fallen on him. For a second he seemed to waver, then he went slowly,
hesitatingly, to the door which led to the Princess's study.
"Mother!"
All was still within.
"I wanted to say good-bye to you."
No answer.
"Mother!" The young Prince's voice shook in its eager, heart-rending
entreaty. "Do not let me go from you thus. If I may not see you, say at
least one word--one single word of farewell. It will be the last.
Mother, do you not hear me?"
He was kneeling before the barred door, pressing his brow against it,
as though it must open to him. In vain; the door remained close, and no
sound was heard within. The mother had no parting word for her son; the
Princess Baratowska no pardon for his error.
Leo rose from his knees. His face was rigid again now, only about his
lips there quivered an expression of wild and bitter anguish, such as
never in his young life could he have experienced before. He spoke no
word, but silently took up the cloak which he had cast aside on his
entrance, threw it round his shoulders, and went to the door. His
brother attempted to hold him back. Leo thrust him aside.
"Let me go. Tell Wanda--no, tell her nothing. She does not love me; she
has given me up for you. Good-bye."
He rushed away. Waldemar stood a few minutes in utmost perplexity,
doubtful as to what course he should adopt. At last he seemed to have
taken a resolution. He passed quickly through the adjoining room, to
the Princess's ante-chamber. There he found the house-steward, Pawlick,
with a troubled, anxious face. Directly the old man had heard of the
arrival of his sick countrymen, he had hurried to them, and had been
the first to hear the terrible news. On returning to the Castle,
debating in his own mind as to how he should communicate it to his
mistress, he suddenly beheld Prince Baratowski, standing before him at
the entrance. Leo gave the alarmed old servitor no time to unburthen
himself, but merely passed him with a hasty inquiry for his brother,
for Countess Morynska, and disappeared in his mother's apartments.
Pawlick could not tell whether his young master were informed of the
late events or not; but when, some time later, the unhappy boy rushed
past him unheedingly, one look at his face was sufficient to show him
he knew all.
"Pawlick," said Waldemar, coming in, "you must follow Prince Baratowski
immediately. He is about to commit an act of the maddest rashness,
which will cost him his life, if he really carries out his project. He
means to cross the frontier, now, in daylight."
"God forbid!" exclaimed the old man, horrified.
"I cannot keep him back," continued Nordeck, "and I dare not show
myself at his side. That would only increase his danger; yet, in his
present frame of mind, he must have some one with him. I know you have
still a good seat in the saddle, in spite of your years. The Prince is
on foot. You will be able to come up with him before he reaches the
frontier, for you know the direction he will take--the place whence the
secret communication with the insurgents is kept up. I fear it is in
the neighbourhood of the border-station."
Pawlick did not reply. He dared not answer in the affirmative, but at
this moment courage to deny the truth failed him. Waldemar understood
his silence.
"It is just about there that the most vigilant watch is kept," he
cried, hastily. "I heard it from our officers. How my brother contrived
to get through this morning, I know not. He will not succeed a second
time. Hasten after him, Pawlick. He must not attempt to cross there;
anywhere else rather than there! He must wait--conceal himself until
dusk, in the forester's station itself, if there is no other way.
Inspector Fellner is there; he is on my side, but he will never betray
Leo. Hasten!"
He had no need to speak so urgently. Mortal anxiety on his young
master's account was depicted on the old man's face.
"In ten minutes I shall be ready," said he. "I'll ride as though for my
own life."
He kept his word. Barely ten minutes later he rode out of the Castle
yard. Waldemar, who was standing watching at the window above, drew a
breath of relief.
"That was the only thing to be done. He may perhaps reach him even yet;
and so, at all events, the worst will be averted."
Four, five hours elapsed, and yet no tidings. Generally, when there was
work astir on the frontier, messages came fast and frequent. All the
couriers on their way to L----, passing through Wilicza, would halt in
the village with their news, for a few minutes, at least. To-day these
communications seemed suddenly cut off. Waldemar paced uneasily up and
down his room, trying to think of Pawlick's prolonged absence as a
favourable sign. The old man had certainly come up with Leo, and would
stay by him so long as the young Prince remained on German soil.
Perhaps they were both lying in hiding in the forester's house. At
length, late on in the afternoon, the steward appeared. He came in
hastily, without waiting to be announced.
"Herr Nordeck, I must beg of you to come over to the manor-farm," he
said. "Your presence there is urgently needed."
Waldemar looked up. "What is it? Has anything happened to one of the
wounded?"
"No, not that," said Frank, evasively; "but I must entreat you to come
yourself. We have had news from the border. There has been a decisive
engagement out at W----. A regular battle was fought this morning
against the Morynski corps."
"Well, with what issue?" asked Nordeck, in extreme suspense and
anxiety.
"The insurgents have suffered a terrible defeat. It is said there had
been treason at work, that they were taken by surprise. They defended
themselves desperately, but were forced to succumb to superior numbers
at last. The survivors are scattered to all points of the compass."
"And their leader, Count Morynski?"
The steward looked down.
"Is he dead?"
"No; but seriously wounded, and in the enemy's hands."
"So that, too, is added!" Waldemar murmured. He himself had never been
on intimate terms with his uncle; but Wanda!--he knew with what
passionate love she clung to her father. Had he fallen in the fight,
she would have borne it better than to know him exposed to such a fate,
and exposed to it through _whom_! Who was to blame for the defeat of
that corps, surprised by an attack from which it believed itself
protected by the cover of Prince Baratowski's advance-guard?
Waldemar summoned up all his self-command. "Who brought the news? Is it
trustworthy, or mere report?"
"It was the major domo, Pawlick, who brought it. He is over yonder ..."
"At your house? He brings you the news, though he knows that I have
been waiting hours here for his return. Why did he not come up to the
Castle?"
Frank's eyes sought the ground once more. "He dared not. Her Highness
or the young Countess might have been at the window. They must first be
prepared. Pawlick is not alone, Herr Nordeck."
"What has happened?" cried Waldemar, a cold presentiment stealing over
him.
"Prince Baratowski has fallen," said the steward, in a low voice.
"Pawlick brings the corpse."
Waldemar was silent. He laid his hand over his eyes, and stood for a
few seconds motionless; then, collecting himself with an effort, he
hurried away over to the manor-farm, Frank following him. At the
steward's house, Pawlick met him. He looked up timidly at the lord of
Wilicza, whom he, the Princess's faithful servant, had been wont to
consider as an enemy; but Nordeck's face showed him what he had already
felt that morning, that it was no foe, but his young master's own
brother who stood before him, and all the old man's composure broke
down at the sight.
"Our Princess!" he wailed; "she will never survive it, nor the young
Countess either!"
"You did not reach the Prince in time?" asked Waldemar.
"Oh yes, I came up with him in time, and delivered your warning
message. He would not listen, he was bent on crossing in spite of
everything; he thought the forest thickets would protect him. I
implored, I kneeled to him, and asked him if he would let himself be
shot down by the sentries like some hunted animal. That told at last.
He consented to wait until evening. We were just considering whether we
should venture into the forester's station, when we were met by ..."
"By whom? By a patrol?"
"No, by the farmer of Janowo. We had no treachery to fear from him, he
has always been faithful to the cause. He had been called on to provide
relays for the troops, and was just coming back from the frontier. He
had heard say that a battle was being fought near W----, which was not
yet decided; that the Morynski corps had been surprised, but was
defending itself desperately. It was all over then with reason and
reflection. Our young Prince had only one thought--how to get to
W---- and throw himself into the thick of the fight. We could not hold
him back. He would listen to nothing then. He had left us about half an
hour, when we heard shots fired; two at first, one after the other,
then half a dozen all at once; and then ..." The old man could say no
more, his voice failed him, and a torrent of hot tears burst from his
eyes.
"I have brought the body," he said, after a pause. "The cavalry
captain, who was here yesterday, obtained it for me from the set out
yonder. They could do nothing with a dead man. But I did not dare to
take it straight up to the Castle. We have laid him in there for the
present."
He pointed to a room on the other side of the passage. Waldemar signed
to him and the steward to remain behind, and went in alone. Grey and
dim the waning twilight fell on the lifeless form of the young Prince.
Silently his brother stood by, gazing down upon him. The beautiful
face, which he had seen so radiant with life and happiness, was rigid
now and cold; the flashing dark eyes were closed; and the breast, which
had swelled so high with hope and dreams of liberty, now bore the
death-wound. If the hot wild blood of youth had erred, it had also made
atonement, as it gushed forth from that shattered breast, staining the
clothing with dark, ominous patches. But a few hours before all the
passions of youth had raged in that inanimate frame. Hatred and love,
jealousy and ardent thirst for revenge, despair at the terrible
consequences of an act committed in reckless haste--all were past,
frozen into the icy stagnation of death. One trace alone remained on
the still, pale face. Stamped thereon so deeply, that it seemed
indelibly graven for ever and ever, was that look of anguish which had
quivered round the son's lips when his mother refused him a last
farewell, when she let him go from her without a word of forgiveness.
All else had faded out of sight with life itself; but this one grief
Prince Baratowski had taken with him into his death-struggle; it had
been with him in the last glimmer of consciousness. The shadow of the
grave itself could not shroud it from view.
Waldemar left the room, sombre and mute as he had entered it; but those
who waited for him without, glancing at his troubled face, could see
that he had loved his brother.
"Bring the body up to the Castle," he said. "I will go on first--to my
mother."