"Well, on what terms are you with that girl now? You will have to make
haste if you wish to settle everything before we go."
"It is already settled, and settled very nicely," Konski made answer,
"since last night, sir. With the like of us, such things are settled
smartly, Herr Doctor, and I have a favour to ask of you in connection
with it. Aurora--it's a strange name that, sir, is it not? and her two
others are just as bad: Amanda Rolline--thank you, says I. Well, it is
not her fault, though, poor thing, and I won't mind re-baptizing her
once we, are in Berlin. But, as I was going to say, Herr Doctor, she
insists upon our getting married in the beginning of October, because
at the end of October Christine is going to be married to Peter
Weissenborn, and she wants to annoy Christina by being married before
her, so she says; but I fancy it's meant for Peter, who used to be
uncommonly sweet upon her, and, I rather think, promised to marry her
at one time. And if the Herr Doctor is not going to Italy at all, or
leastways not now, we thought ..."
"You know," said Bertram, "how sorry I shall be to part with you; but I
will not stand in the way of your happiness."
"It would be my greatest happiness, sir," said Konski, "to remain with
you as long as I live. And there's just one way, so Aurora says ..."
"Well?"
Konski hesitated a little, then took heart of grace, and said, with an
embarrassed sort of smirk--
"If the Herr Doctor would be so very kind as to marry too!"
"I am afraid," said Bertram, "you will have to devise some other way
out of the difficulty."
Konski was meditatively removing some specks of dust from the black
waistcoat which he held in his hand, and said--
"No offence, sir! These women are always a-puzzling out something or
other in their brains, and Aurora's brains are by no means bad brains.
She thinks it would be uncommon nice, if I would remain the Herr
Doctor's valet, and she was to be maid to your lady, sir; and then,
whether you went to Italy or elsewhere, we four would always be nice
and snug together."
"I have no idea what you are talking about," said Bertram. "Give me my
waistcoat."
"No offence, sir," Konski repeated, as he handed his master the
waistcoat and took up the dress-coat; "but she leaves me no peace, she
does not, and she says that it's all up with the Baron; and from what
she heard My Lady say to master this morning about the Herr Doctor,
says she, the Herr Doctor need but ask and they'd give him a half dozen
daughters, only they have not got more than one; and that one, dear
Miss Erna--why, I knows, and no one knows better than me--how fond she
is of the Herr Doctor."
As Bertram had again turned away, the poor fellow, much to his regret,
could not see what impression his remarks had made upon his master; and
now they heard a heavy, hurried step coming through the study. There
was a knock, then Otto put in his head and asked if he might trouble
Bertram for a minute. Bertram begged him to come in, and beckoned his
man to leave the room.
"I have been repeatedly wishing to come up and see you," said Otto;
"Hildegard is so afraid that you mean to go--and--dear me, you have
really been packing."
"For to-morrow," Bertram made answer. "In no case can I remain longer.
For to-day I am, as you see, already, like yourself, in evening dress.
Only--you must please excuse me if I do not put in an appearance before
dinner; I have not finished my letters yet, and, to say the truth, I
should like to cut the reception business."
"So should I," said Otto, "if I could. They will be here in less than
ten minutes now. I have not a minute to spare, not a minute."
But for all that he did not stir from the chair into which he had
dropped. His mind was clearly far away. Presently he muttered--
"What if Parliament has decided against the railway!"
"We must be prepared for it," replied his friend.
"It is half-past four now, the sitting is sure to be over by this
time."
"You will know the result to-morrow, and early enough, too!"
"I think that Lotter, who has had to go to town, will have waited to
hear the result of the vote; I asked him to. He said he would be back
in time for dinner. But I no longer believe in his influence."
"All the better."
Both were speaking in gloomy tones, as though a heavy pressure was
weighing equally on either. Bertram was staring down in front of him
with arms crossed behind his back, and Otto's eyes were wandering about
the room--he was mechanically fingering the arms of his chair, then
suddenly gave a convulsive clutch at them.
"I must go," he said.
He jumped up and was making for the door.
"Otto!"
"Are you coming too?"
"No; I have a small favour to ask which you are not to refuse me."
Bertram had meanwhile gone up to his friend, holding out his hand to
him. Otto mechanically put his own into it.
"I wanted to ask you to make use of me in case you have not yet
arranged about redeeming, to-morrow, that mortgage, and in the present
hurry and worry, what more likely? I have not even had to write to
Berlin about it. My Italian trip is given up. You know I had made
arrangements for a very lengthened absence. My letter of credit is
addressed to your own banker, as I had anyhow been intending to draw a
large sum; I can get the money at once, and there will be just enough."
"Time enough to-morrow," murmured Otto; "however, I am much obliged to
you for your kind intention. Perhaps I'll drive you to town to-morrow,
if you insist upon going; we can then see about it."
His cheeks were burning; his hand, which Bertram was still holding,
trembled like that of a man in great physical pain. Bertram noticed it
all.
"I am very sorry," he said, "that I must thus torment you, but you left
me no choice as to the time. I am sure I shall not be able to speak to
you again to-day, and perhaps not to-morrow. Therefore, look here: I
have made all the requisite preparations, with due despatch, to make as
much of my fortune available as you will need for the settlement of
your affairs. You remember our conversation when we were driving back
from town last Saturday. I put no other conditions now than I did
then; that you arrange the settlement with the help of your lawyer,
that you leave him as free as possible in his dispositions regarding
the factories, and lastly, that your wife is taken into your
confidence--these are not so much conditions, as necessities. And of
the last, and doubtless the most painful one, I am willing to relieve
you."
Otto flushed to the roots of his hair.
"It is impossible!" he ejaculated. "I cannot take it."
"I am not making you a present of the money, man!"
"The money--the money--but Hildegard! To-day all this display--the
Princess--all those officers--a huge party--covers for a hundred
or so; and then to-morrow the most awful wretchedness--it is quite
impossible. And even if you had the courage--if you were to speak to
her, I mean--you are on such good terms again, she had intended to come
herself and see you, and I had thought--but that, that she would never
forgive you--never!"
"I am prepared for that," replied Bertram. "To be quite frank, I care
infinitely more for your welfare than for your wife's favour. Otto,
these is no time for long debating. A plain yes from you, and the thing
is settled--now or never--do you hear me?"
From the great courtyard there came the sound of merry military music;
many voices, too, were heard. Otto was still standing by the door
irresolute.
He suddenly seized Bertram's other hand and exclaimed--
"Then marry Erna at least! Hildegard will get reconciled to it, once
she knows all. Erna is fond of you--let me talk to her!"
"One word from you, and--I shall not alter my resolve, it is fixed for
good; but you and I will never meet again."
Bertram had torn himself away and was striding along the chamber. Now
he came back to Otto who was standing there in utter helplessness, laid
his hand on his shoulder, and said to him--
"Otto, remember what we vowed to each other in the dear old student
days in Bonn: to be and to remain friends in gladness or sadness,
friends to the death! This surely is sufficient. Let us not speak of
Erna, or, at least, let us not connect her name with this business;
such a connection is an insult to me, because it is casting doubt upon
the purity of my motives. I can tell you something else, in reference
to which I must, in the meantime, request your discreet silence. I have
good reasons for assuming that Erna has already disposed of her heart,
and this may explain certain oddities in her demeanour which have
struck us both. I believe I shall soon know if I am right. In warning
you, and your wife against Lotter, I gave you a proof of my careful
observation and of my faithful friendship. Confide in me further: you
will not repent of it. And now, old boy, go with a lighter heart than
you came, and receive your guests, or else the great event will come
off without you, and for that Hildegard would never forgive you, and
she would be right."
He was almost pushing poor helpless Otto out of the door, when Konski
came hurrying up with an impatient message from My Lady.
"Would Otto come at once? The military were just marching up the
courtyard."
Otto hurried away. Bertram was still standing near the door, his eye
rigidly fixed upon it.
He was murmuring to himself: "That was the first step. I should not
have thought, after all I have already endured, that it would prove so
hard. But it had to be done!"
He walked slowly up and down, and paused again.
"Had it to be done? And thus? Would it not have been better if I had
not absolutely denied it? Anyhow, I have not resigned in every case;
only, in case it is as I fear. Supposing it is not? What if the young
man who has gone through the schooling of a Princess Volinzov, is not
one whom our Erna can and should love? What if the Princess is mistaken
in this part of the story, or if she has been deceived by the man who
may have, had good reasons of his own? What if the whole thing has been
a little gentle dallying which Erna has all but forgotten, and I were,
with my diplomatic wiles, to fan again into life and light the almost
extinguished flame, were to repel her from me and push her into his
arms, which will be willing enough to open?"
He stretched out his hands, as though he wished to ward off something.
They were all assailing him again now in the broad light of the day,
those dread phantoms with which he had wrestled in the awful darkness
of the night. Then he had conquered them. Was he to be vanquished now?
Was his strength exhausted?
No, no; the worst had yet to come. Though he had persuaded himself that
it would be only fair and proper not to be a witness of their first
meeting, yet he would have to see them together, perhaps learn at the
first glance that they had already made it up, and that the great
sacrifice, which the beautiful Princess was making for her darling, had
been wholly unnecessary. All the better! In that case the torture of
uncertainty would be over all the sooner, and he would at least be
spared the humiliation of pushing Quixotic generosity to its utmost
limits, and of acting the part of an obtrusive mediator, who clears
away all obstacles and ultimately joins the lovers' hands with a "Bless
you, my children!"
He sat down at the writing-table to complete his election address. But
he could not write, could not think. Pen in hand he sat, hearkening to
all the confused sounds which came up and across him from courtyard,
garden, and mansion house. The music, after some little pause, is now
playing again in long-drawn triumphant strains--representing the salute
of the regiment to the house that now guarded its colours; the fair
mistress appears on the threshold, surrounded by the other ladies, and
the tall and gallant-looking Colonel, hastening up, followed by his
officers, bows deferentially and kisses her hand. And lo! from the
circle around the mistress of the house, there steps forth another
lady, at whose sight the gallant soldier starts. But she smiles, and
signals with those mobile orbs of hers--
"Be calm, my friend, be calm! I shall explain all as soon as we are
alone for a minute, or, if not all--that being contrary to my habit--as
much as you need know. It is a matter concerning these people."
And she points aside to another pair, bowing to each other and
presumably renewing--a casual acquaintance, shall we say?
"I hardly know, my gracious Fraeulein, whether I still have the
honour..."
What a farce it all was!
And what a ghastly tragedy too--its silent scene his heart--forsaken,
lonely as he was.
So he sat on, brooding gloomily, musing dismally, he knew not how long.
Silence now reigned around without. Had they forgotten him? Oh, that
they had! and that he could steal away from the house--from the
farce--from life!
But no, they would not be so pitiful. Hearken!--yes, this is Konski's
swift step.
"I beg your pardon, sir, but My Lady bade me urge you to come. They are
just going to dinner, and are only waiting for the Herr Doctor!"