Bertram, on entering the carriage, at once told Otto of the place in
the wood where, by the shore of the little lake, the meeting was to
take place, and Otto replied that they could easily reach it in half an
hour, going first along the high-road, then turning off to the right
and driving along some country lanes, and at last, for a brief stretch,
through the forest.
But they had scarcely left the gates when unexpected obstacles
intervened. The high-road, which had been perfectly free and clear a
little while ago, when Otto was driving to town, now swarmed with
troops belonging to the corps which had made a victorious advance; they
were now utilising this convenient road for taking up their position
for the sham-fight which was to be resumed tomorrow. This was the gist
of the information conveyed to the friends, with due military
politeness, by an officer who had hurriedly ridden up to their
carriage, whilst Otto was vainly storming at some artillerymen in
charge of a gun which they had managed to upset in a ditch, and of
which the horses were blocking the road. The officer pointed out that
the gentlemen would do better to deviate from the high-road than to try
and force their way, and he said that, farther on it was occupied in
even greater strength, and was likely to be absolutely impassable for
the next half hour.
The advice seemed very sensible, and it was possible to follow it at
once, for there was a country lane branching off to the right in that
very spot.
"It is a deuced deal farther," said Otto. "We shall have to drive by
way of Neuenhof and Viehburg; however, there is no help for it now, and
after all we shall be in good time."
"We have already lost a quarter of an hour," said Bertram.
"We'll easily make up for that," replied Otto; "you see the road is in
good condition and quite clear. Make haste, John--as quick as the
horses can go!"
Otto was very far from really feeling the energy which he was
displaying. On the contrary, he was cherishing the hope that the
round-about way would ultimately prove too long; and that, even if they
were to arrive in time, this insane duel should not come off. Thus the
one care which had still been weighing somewhat upon his elastic
temperament was gone. As for the rest, why all had come about as nicely
as possible. Could he have anticipated anything of the kind when, an
hour ago, he was driving to town in his despair, with the remembrance
of that awful scene with his wife upon him like a nightmare? What would
she say now? How would she take it? Not well, of course. She would call
it a terrible humiliation--disgraceful. Nonsense! It was the simplest
and most loyal arrangement in the world. Why should not Bertram make
Erna his heiress, for he had neither kith nor kin, and had always been
so fond of her? Hildegard had never liked Erna to call Bertram uncle.
In future, perhaps, she would not object to it. And what about the big
loan? Well, the bigness was its chief merit. A few thousand thalers
here, a few thousand thalers there, how ignoble, how mean! But a
hundred thousand thalers, that was decent; there was nothing derogatory
about that. Hildegard would herself see that; and moreover, if Erna was
to inherit the money anyhow, it remained, as it were, in the family.
Then he wondered how his wife would get on with the young lieutenant,
whom yesterday they had both seen for the first time. Only yesterday!
But a man must see his son-in-law once for the first time. And he
seemed to be such a charming fellow! What a pity that he was not of
noble birth, for that had, after all, been Lotter's chief merit in
Hildegard's eyes. Poor beggar! he really was sorry for him. That is
what a man may come to when he is seriously embarrassed! Awful! And all
for a mere trifle--those dirty three thousand thalers! If he had given
him the money yesterday, or if Lotter had won them at play, the whole
business might have been hushed up, and the beggar would not have run
a-muck at everybody. The fellow was not a bad sort, hang it, quite a
jolly fellow to get on with! Now, what fiend had possessed Bertram on
this occasion; Bertram, who, on principle, made a point of avoiding all
social conflicts, or, if the worst came to the worst, always knew how
to make a courteous and clever diversion; Bertram who, even as a
student, had never fought a duel, and had never concealed his aversion
on the subject? And where on earth was, in this case, the necessity for
fighting the man? Bertram must have known that Lotter's farce at
Rinstedt was played out, that Hildegard had given him up for good and
all. The foe who is running away should have golden bridges built him,
not be impeded in his retreat. Well, well, it was to be hoped that
Lotter at least had meanwhile come to his senses and gone away. To be
sure, this was the most likely thing to have happened. Lotter, cunning
fellow, had set all this duel business a-going, by way of putting them
on the wrong scent, knowing that his pursuers would presently be on the
alert, and now, whilst he was being looked for in the wood, he had most
probably decamped altogether.
If Otto, good easy-going fellow, on arriving at this comforting
conclusion, did not actually rub his hands in sheer glee, he refrained
solely out of regard for his companion, who was sitting by his side in
silent gloom, as though he were most terribly grieved at the prospect
of the duel not taking place after all.
And so it was. Bertram felt like a man wearied to death, drawing his
blankets around him and preparing for the greatly-desired rest, and
abruptly startled by the alarm of fire. He had, indeed, been longing
for death, but, of course, could not accept it from a dishonoured hand,
neither for his own sake nor for that of the others who had agreed to
act in what they thought an honourable cause, but which now was
irrevocably stained with dishonour. Thus he would have to live on, on,
nor might he let any one see what a torment this life was and would be
to him; no one, and least of all Erna. She was even never to guess that
he had been willing to sacrifice himself. But how was she to be kept
from this conjecture, when gradually it would appear that there had
been a connection between the Baron's insult to Kurt and his own
intervention, which occurred in the same place and the very next
minute? The remark of the Herr Oberfoerster at the breakfast table
proved that the right scent had been discovered. Had he not thought of
it at all? Or had he done so, and then quieted his scruples by assuming
that his death would spread an impenetrable veil over the real
circumstances of the case? And if that veil were really ever lifted in
Erna's sight, and if she had to say to herself that he had died for
her, it would be but as one note of melancholy, dissolving anon in the
pure and full harmony of her own firm happiness. Was this certain? Or
had he been playing a comedy after all, and assumed the easiest and
most grateful part himself? Had he but draped himself as a dying hero,
in order to hurt his rival, who might thereafter see how best to get on
with an uncomfortable part? And now the piece was not to end, and he
would have to remain upon the stage in the attitude of a hero, and Erna
would have ample time to make comparisons; and they must needs all tell
against Kurt! And would proud Erna forgive her lover this? And was this
to be the result of his own unselfish devotion for Erna's sake?
Thus tormenting himself, he groaned aloud under the weight of the
reproach which he was heaping upon his conscience.
"Yes," remarked Otto prosaically, "that comes from driving so fast.
However, we shall again be delayed, and no mistake!"
After a short quick drive they reached the first village, and came upon
the rearguard of corps number two retreating towards the shelter of the
woods. In the narrow village lane a very compact mass of men and horses
had accumulated, and a forward movement was quite impossible, because
those marching on in front had not yet cleared the line. The men had
stacked their rifles; by the roadside, on the road itself, weary men
were crouching; others were crowding round the different house-doors,
whence compassionate hands were holding out water in every possible and
impossible sort of vessel. In front of the little inn had gathered an
absolutely impenetrable knot of human beings. The driver was compelled
to branch off again, this time into a very narrow little lane, thence
he had to work his way with the greatest difficulty into the open, then
drive across stubble-fields, and so back to the road, frequently
alongside of columns of soldiers on the march, who made way with the
greatest reluctance; and thus they made but slow progress.
Slow, far too slow for Bertram, whose feverish impatience was
increasing every minute, although he knew not what to reply to Otto
when he argued that it really did not matter much, even if they arrived
a quarter of an hour or so too late. And what did too late mean in a
case like this? They would arrive in ample time for the awkward
explanation to the Baron.
"Well, and I might as well admit," said Otto, "that personally I hope
we shall not find him at all."
"I think we shall, though," replied Bertram; "for in spite of his
having morally gone so much astray, he is no coward. A man with weaker
nerves would not have so long borne the danger of being discovered.
And he must assume that he will be left alone until the day after
to-morrow."
"In any case," said Otto, shrugging those broad shoulders of his, "we
cannot advance any faster."
They had meanwhile passed the second village, and the troops on the
march were behind them, and as the road was now both smooth and clear,
the horses were really doing their best. They had by this time reached
the border of the forest, and again they were obliged to proceed at a
walking pace, for the road, which was old and ill-kept, had been made
much worse by the foot-deep furrows which the pressure of the cannons
had produced upon the soft soil. There were many traces of a hot combat
having been waged here; cartridge-cases abounded, being scattered all
over the place; there were plenty of broken branches, moreover, and now
they actually came upon a kind of barricade; and it was impossible to
drive round it, since on either side great trees skirted the road.
"Confound those soldiers!" said Otto; "they carry on as though they
were in the enemy's country. We shall have to get out and walk whilst
John clears away this obstacle, so as to enable him to pass;
fortunately, it does not seem to be very firmly built. The lake is
within a hundred yards of this."
The wood did indeed form a kind of glade, and in this spot a fairly
broad one; and the road now lay between the sedge-grown banks of the
little lake on the left and the edge of the forest on the right. This
was close to the very place chosen for the hostile meeting. At first
the sedge prevented a clear view, but, hurrying along, the friends soon
discovered the centre, and thence they could see the rest of the
ground, up to the spot where the wood came closing in again. All was
deserted and silent.