Eva had anticipated a first meeting with Leo with absolute dread, and
yet one brief hour and two or three words had sufficed to dispel the
dark cloud between them. They were reconciled.
A delicious sense of repose and peace filled Eva's soul as she silently
accompanied Aline and Delmar back to the inn. Paul guessed that she was
in no mood for conversation, and so left her free to pursue her
thoughts.
And when they were again all seated upon the balcony, and the three
gentlemen from Tausens made their appearance as usual, Paul contrived
that no one should notice that Eva scarcely took any part in the
conversation. Aline alone saw how quiet the girl was, and divined the
cause of her silence.
Only when the two young girls had retired to their room did Aline put
her arms about her friend, and, looking into her dark eyes, ask, "Are
you reconciled?"
"Yes, Aline. Oh, I am so happy!" was the reply. And then Eva poured
into her friend's ready and sympathizing ear an account of all that
filled her heart, all she had heard from Delmar, telling last of the
few words she had exchanged with Leo, and of the kiss he had imprinted
upon her hand at parting.
Aline listened with the deepest interest, never interrupting her, but
when she had finished she asked, in a low tone, "You love him, Eva?"
"Yes, with my whole soul! Now I dare tell you. Aline, of the warm
interest I felt in him long before I ever saw him. You and Lieutenant
Herwarth had told me so much of him, of his heroism in the field, of
his humanity to the conquered; he was my ideal of a hero, and when I
first saw him I was confused and strangely moved, for all my
expectations were so much more than answered. I was so happy when Uncle
Balthasar presented him."
"And yet you received him so coldly that he could not but feel hurt!"
"It was my misfortune, Aline! I have shed many a secret tear at the
thought of it. Delmar is right: wealth has poisoned my soul and filled
me with unjust suspicion. I take shame to myself for ever thinking that
my money could have any attraction for him. And so I threw away the
happiness of my life. He loves me, but he will not approach me,--we are
separated forever! I am betrothed to Bertram!"
Eva wept bitterly, while Aline clasped her closer in her arms. "You
must not be unhappy, Eva," she said earnestly; "you must not sacrifice
your life to an illusion! This miserable engagement should never have
been entered into. There is still time to break it; you must not give
your hand to a man whom you detest and despise while your heart belongs
to another. Courage, Eva! Your fate is in your own hands. Break the
disgraceful chains that fetter you!"
"I cannot, Aline! Bertram has my promise; he knows that I do not love
him, but he will hold me to my promise. Would not Leo von Heydeck
despise me if he thought me capable of wantonly breaking a promise for
which Bertram has sacrificed his entire future? And if I did so, I
never could be really happy. Leo is himself betrothed."
"Herr von Heydeck betrothed?" Aline asked in surprise.
"Yes; he has complied with his father's desire that he should be
betrothed to his cousin Hilda. Herr Delmar told me this."
"My poor Eva----"
"No, not so, Aline! I was indeed wretched when I thought that Leo von
Heydeck hated and despised me. Now that I know that he cherishes for me
a pure, disinterested affection,--that he loves me, although he knows
that we are separated forever,--I am no longer unhappy. The thought
that I am sacrificing myself for his sake consoles me. I gave my
promise to Bertram that Leo von Heydeck might escape a great peril,--I
cannot be unhappy."
"You deceive yourself, Eva; you must not sacrifice yourself to a
phantom of the imagination. Bertram loves not yourself, but your money;
with money you can atone to him for his lost future."
"Say no more, Aline, I cannot bear it; you must not think so meanly of
the man who, although I cannot esteem or love him, has never given me
reason to believe him so sordid a wretch as you describe. I will keep
the promise I have given. Do not try to shake my resolution, it is
firmly fixed."
"I have no right to urge you further," Aline said sadly, "but answer me
one question, what are you going to do now? Will you return Fraeulein
Hilda's visit? Will you thus provoke frequent opportunities of meeting
Herr von Heydeck? I should think such interviews would be alike painful
for yourself and for him."
"You are wrong; we are reconciled. If our future destinies separate us
forever, we may at least avail ourselves of these few chance weeks of
friendly intercourse. I am resolved to enjoy this time, troubled by no
sad thought of the future. When I leave Tausens I will go to meet my
fate serenely, for I know that Leo von Heydeck will have none but
kindly thoughts of me."
"A most extraordinary purpose!" Aline rejoined, as she looked at her
friend with a dubious smile; "but so be it,--it may result in good.
Then we are to enjoy the society of our friends at Castle Reifenstein
as if there had never been any unpleasantness between Herr von Heydeck
and yourself I confess I am curious to know what Herr von Bertram will
say to this."
"Do not mention his name to me now!" Eva exclaimed impatiently,
instantly however kissing her friend, and saying, in a gentle
tone of entreaty, "My dear true Aline, do not be angry with me for my
cross words,--you know how tenderly I love you, and how I depend
upon your counsel and sympathy. Let me enjoy this short season of
happiness,--even Herr von Bertram shall not alloy it for me,--he has no
right to do so; I am still my own mistress. And now goodnight, my
dearest friend."
Thus with a tender caress they separated for the night, but it was long
before either fell asleep. Eva resigned herself to waking dreams, and
Aline's thoughts were occupied with her friend's fate. She had long
since surmised that Eva was far from indifferent to Leo von Heydeck;
her surmise had just been made a conviction, and she now knew that Leo
reciprocated her friend's sentiments. Aline had the most sincere
affection for Eva; she took the deepest interest in her future; she
knew how firm and loyal she would be to a given promise, and that no
entreaties would avail to make her false to her idea of right. She had
often declared that nothing should cause her to recall the words spoken
to Bertram, and this declaration she had just repeated, although she
now knew that Leo loved her.
Nevertheless she must not be allowed to carry her resolve into
execution. Bertram was utterly unworthy of such a sacrifice. Aline had
become entirely convinced during the last week of his mercenary
disposition; she saw plainly that it was Eva's wealth and not herself
that he coveted. The constant coldness and reserve that characterized
her manner towards him had created in him almost a feeling of hatred
for his betrothed, the existence of which, in spite of the servile
smoothness of his manner, could not always be concealed from Aline's
eyes, made keen as they were by affection for her friend.
In Fraeulein von Schlicht's opinion there was only one person who could
be of use here, and that was Paul Delmar. Aline would speak with him,
or--no, it would be far better to confide the whole matter to Herr von
Herwarth, who was intimate with both Herr von Heydeck and Herr Delmar.
He would know what to advise. This thought soothed her, and she fell
asleep with a happy smile upon her lips.
The next morning the whole party again met upon the balcony. Bertram
alone was missing; he had not yet returned from his expedition. Delmar
was in his gayest humour,--only Fraeulein von Schlicht noticed that he
was rather pale, and that his eyes lacked something of their wonted
brilliancy; the others were content to yield to his influence and laugh
at his jests.
Leo and Hilda came down from the castle in the early morning to arrange
a walk to some waterfalls, and all went as smoothly as possible. Eva
received Leo with a smile that transported him to the seventh heaven,
and Hilda greeted Delmar as amiably. For a moment Paul forgot his role;
he grew very grave as he took Fraeulein von Heydeck's proffered hand,
but the next instant he was gayer than ever, rallying the cousins upon
their condescension in descending from their rocky throne to mix with
the humble inhabitants of the valley. Hilda was ready in her replies,
and merriment was the order of the day.
When the party were about to start upon their expedition. Aline
declared that she was still fatigued with her walk of the previous day,
and preferred to remain quietly upon the balcony. She therefore begged
Delmar to join his friend Herr von Heydeck, and leave to her the charge
of the lieutenant. She made the request in so gentle a tone of
entreaty, and Kuno seconded her so eloquently, that Delmar could not
but comply. Thus Aline remained alone with Kuno on the balcony, for
Uncle Balthasar made one of the walking-party, and Aunt Minni, as soon
as breakfast was over, retired to her room and her beloved sofa.
Aline's wish was fulfilled; she now had an opportunity of speaking to
Herwarth of Eva, and her relations with Bertram. She found it difficult
at first to allude to so delicate a topic, but Fraeulein von Schlicht
was too natural and frank a person to yield for long to girlish
shamefacedness; she was convinced of Herwarth's truth and honour and of
his friendship for Leo, and so she gave him her entire confidence with
regard to Eva and Bertram. She told him that her friend was bound only
by her promise,--that she had not the smallest esteem or affection for
her betrothed,--and that if her engagement were not broken the
happiness of her future life would be entirely destroyed. Of course
Aline never alluded to Eva's sentiments for Leo von Heydeck, she had no
right to do so; it was of her relations with Bertram alone that she
spoke; and she concluded with an earnest request that Herwarth would
induce Delmar to exert the influence which Herwarth had told her he
possessed over Bertram to force the lieutenant to free Eva from her
promise.
As Aline spoke, Kuno watched her with enthusiastic admiration; she had
never seemed to him so bewitchingly lovely. Her cheeks flushed, her
blue eyes sparkled in the glow of her devotion to her friend as she
eagerly explained and entreated. He was only too happy to be the
recipient of her confidence, and he promised with ardour to do
everything that she desired. It was only natural that when she offered
him her hand in token that the compact between them was sealed he
should refuse immediately to resign it, but should retain the 'white
wonder' in his clasp and imprint upon it a fervent kiss.
It is not quite safe for a young girl to pour confidences into a man's
ears, especially when their subject is love, and Aline had proof of
this. Kuno's ardour embarrassed her; she tried to withdraw her hand,
but he clasped it only the more firmly, and even drew its owner nearer
to him, as he reiterated his promise to do all, everything, always that
she could desire if only she would not repulse him, but would listen
while he told her that life was worthless to him unless he might keep
as his very own the little hand he then held. How could Aline withdraw
it?
When at noon the pedestrians returned from their waterfalls, they found
Aline and Kuno still together, and the lieutenant rapturously presented
to them Fraeulein von Schlicht as his betrothed.
Here was a delightful surprise, and yet afterwards every one, with the
exception of Uncle Balthasar who was unaffected amazement itself,
professed to have foreseen it all along.
Delmar regarded Kuno with eyes that sparkled strangely. "Number One!"
he said. "You're a lucky dog, my noble knight! Have you not made fools
of us after all? Confess: was that sprained ankle accident, or did you
so contrive it that pity might bring her nearest of kin to minister to
you? And if it were so, my congratulations are none the less sincere, I
swear to you, Herwarth, that for only one hour of such happiness as
yours I would give not only a miserable foot but my head into the
bargain!"
Involuntarily his glance sought Hilda. Their eyes met, but were
instantaneously averted, and Delmar turned hastily away to conquer the
emotion that threatened to overcome him. In Hilda's look of tender
sympathy he read, "You too might be as happy!" Poor child! She did not
dream of the woe that awaited him, making it impossible that he should
be happy. The thought shot a pang through Paul's heart; there was no
bliss in the conviction of Hilda's tender sympathy for him, it only
made his fate harder to bear. With all his self-control, the struggle
was wellnigh too much for him. He hurried away,--anywhere to avoid
again meeting Hilda's eyes.
Eva, too, was much moved as she embraced her friend, and wished for her
every blessing that life could bring. "You happy girl!" she whispered.
"You will soon be just as happy," Aline replied, in as soft a whisper,
glancing at Leo, who was warmly congratulating the lieutenant. But Eva
brushed away a tear and made no answer.
Never had Hansel, our worthy postmaster, enjoyed such delightful days
as those which ensued upon the betrothal of Fraeulein Aline with the
Herr Lieutenant von Herwarth. He went about the house with a constant
grin upon his broad face which beamed with special satisfaction
whenever he saw Herr Delmar, for Hansel was proud to acknowledge that
it was owing to Herr Delmar that his wildest dreams were now
transcended by reality.
The honest fellow listened daily to exclamations of admiration from
Herr Schommer and the ladies over the wonderful degree of comfort to be
found in this excellent inn, although Tausens was so retired a spot.
Every day he listened to thanks and praise of his wonderful energy and
skill in ministering to the wishes of his guests. Sometimes when Uncle
Balthasar was exhausting himself in surprise, and the young ladies
uttered cordial thanks in addition, Hansel, to be sure, would become
confused, and quite unable to suppress a maidenly blush, but he liked,
notwithstanding, to be so lauded.
Indeed, his guests had good cause to be amazed and grateful, for each
day brought some fresh surprise, prepared as Herr Delmar assured them
by the worthy Hansel, for whom Herr Delmar had a positively
enthusiastic regard.
A large box full of books, the best works upon the Tyrol, and the
latest novels, arrived from Innspruck. Hansel had ordered them from a
bookseller there, sparing no expense to provide amusement for his
guests if the weather should chance to be rainy.
Several furniture-wagons arrived from Bozen laden with comfortable
lounges and arm-chairs. Hansel had sent for these by express, because
he heard that Aunt Minni was fond of such luxuries. He showed a most
refined aptitude in supplying every desire of his wealthy guests. Money
was no object to him; no expense was spared in any direction.
And the table,--Herr Delmar had indeed maligned Tausens when he had
declared that there was nothing to be had there but veal. Hansel sent
to Bozen, Triest, Riva, and even to Venice, to procure delicacies
wherewith to tickle the palates of his guests. He sent his own
messengers, empowering them to make the required purchases. Uncle
Balthasar declared that nowhere in the world could a better table be
found than at the Post at Tausens. He really could not understand it,
for the charges were extremely moderate, not a kreutzer higher than at
other Tyrolean inns where not a delicacy was to be had.
And not only in luxurious lodgings and delicate fare did he testify his
desire to please. Every wish expressed in other respects by the
strangers, and especially by the ladies, was fulfilled almost before it
was uttered.
Fraeulein Eva, upon a short walk where the postmaster was guide,
expressed her special admiration for a certain point of view and a
desire to visit it frequently. The next morning a couple of convenient
wooden benches and a table were erected upon the spot, and the path
leading to it was found to have been cleared of stones during the
night. Labourers were also employed to open and clear various
mountain-paths in the neighbourhood of the inn, making many charming
places accessible for the ladies. But Hansel's tenderest care for his
guests was shown in an arrangement which excited the unbounded surprise
of the entire village. Fraeulein Aline von Schlicht was not very strong,
walking fatigued her, and she therefore often remained at home with the
invalid lieutenant when some pleasant expedition on foot was to be
made. One evening Fraeulein Eva expressed her regret that in consequence
of the entire want of mules and riding-horses in Tausens her friend was
obliged to lose so much of the beauty around them, and that Herr von
Herwarth also would know nothing of the finest points of view, since he
would have to spare his sprained ankle for some time to come. An hour
afterwards the village schoolmaster departed for the railway-station in
Hansel's own conveyance, the driver being ordered to drive furiously so
as not to miss the train, and two days later an Italian appeared from
Bozen bringing four strong mules, which he quartered in the stable at
the Post, and placed at the disposition of the guests there, two of the
animals being provided with side-saddles.
Hansel, admirably careful host that he was, must have overheard Eva's
remark, and instantly ordered the mules and their owner from Bozen.
Their host's care and attention did not alone conduce to make the stay
of the Schommer party in Tausens agreeable. After Herwarth's betrothal
to Aline there was constant and delightful intercourse between the
inhabitants of the castle and the guests at the inn.
Every day Leo and Hilda came from the castle to carry off Eva and
Delmar to some point of beauty in the neighbourhood, while Aline
remained upon the balcony with her betrothed, and kindly Uncle
Balthasar felt it his duty to bestow his society upon 'our dear Guido,'
who never took part in the daily walks. Besides the mountain-paths were
too steep for the old man, and thus Hilda, Eva, Delmar, and Leo were
left to themselves to enjoy the exquisite weather and to explore, with
Hilda for a guide, all the beauty and grandeur that abound in the
neighbourhood of Tausens.
The steep mountain-paths were for the most part so narrow as to allow
only two persons to walk abreast; and upon first leaving the village
Hilda and Eva usually went before, followed by the two young men; but
this arrangement did not last long,--it was but natural that in any
climbing Eva should lag behind her fleet-footed guide and that Leo
should hasten to assist her unaccustomed steps, while Delmar walked
with Hilda, who never needed assistance, and that in this order they
should continue to pursue their way even when there were no
difficulties to surmount.
And when, after his two weeks of rest, Herwarth was able to mount a
mule and take part in these expeditions this arrangement was in no wise
altered, for naturally he rode beside his betrothed, who no longer
desired to be left at home upon the balcony. Another mule was sometimes
provided for Eva in very steep ascents; but Hilda, the mountain maid,
could never be induced to admit that walking upon her beloved mountains
could fatigue her, and her boldness and agility were quite equal to
those displayed by Leo and Delmar.
These expeditions had a rare charm for all who took part in them.
Conventional constraint vanished in the familiar intercourse thus
induced. A greater degree of intimacy was established among the party
than would ever have been possible in the life of a city.
When Leo led Eva along the narrow pathway upon the brink of some steep
abyss and she grew giddy with a glance into its misty depths, she would
cling to her guide in full confidence in his strength and sureness of
foot; he would bear her in his arms across a foaming mountain-brook,
lift her on and off of her mule, all small services which she could not
but permit him to render her, and which filled him with a sense of
ecstasy.
When at some distance from the others he walked with her beneath the
fragrant firs, as she leaned upon his arm he would gaze into the large
dark eyes lifted to his own and forget past and future in a dream of
the present, a dream which Eva shared, and it banished all memory of
the hateful tie that bound her to Bertram. She would listen with a
happy smile to Leo's words, and now and then her cheek would flush,
although he never breathed a word of the love which she knew possessed
his soul. Yes, she knew;--there was no need of a confession from his
lips.
Delmar did not, as did Leo and Eva, yield to the enjoyment of the
moment without resistance; but even he could not withstand the charm of
these daily walks by Hilda's side, of constant intercourse with one so
frank and fair.
In her gay unconsciousness Hilda never concealed from Paul how happy
she was; she talked so merrily and freely that he could not but adopt
the same familiar tone. He tried at first to treat her with reserve;
she must not know how wildly his heart beat in her presence; he must be
to her but an every-day acquaintance, no more to her than any other
stranger.
He would have avoided being alone with her, but that was impossible. If
Leo and Eva were to come together they must be left to themselves;
their love must so increase in familiar intercourse as to conquer any
prejudice that might separate them even after Eva's engagement to
Bertram should be annulled. If he would promote his friend's happiness,
Paul must be Hilda's sole companion upon these mountain-walks.
Thus he was forced to take with her the lead in all their expeditions,
although he offered her none of those small services which Leo rendered
to Eva with such delight. Hilda would have laughingly rejected them,
for she needed no assistance even on the steepest paths and dizziest
heights. Her head never for an instant swam even when she stood upon
the extreme brink of some frightful abyss and gazed down into its
depths; she sprang with graceful agility from stone to stone in
crossing the mountain-torrents, and was always at hand to give aid,
although she never needed it.
Once only Paul was forced to proffer Hilda the aid of his strong arm;
they had reached the banks of a rushing brook, across which there had
formerly been a bridge, which a late freshet had carried away. There
were no large stones in the midst of the water by which Hilda could
cross. Had she been alone she would, it is to be feared, have dashed
across without minding a thorough drenching, but that would never do
with any one by to see her, and she looked eagerly for some way to gain
the opposite bank.
"You will have to let me carry you across, Fraeulein von Heydeck," Paul
said, after searching in vain for a place where Hilda could cross
without his aid.
"Shall I not be too heavy for you, Herr Delmar?" the girl asked, with
an arch smile.
For answer he lifted her lightly in his arms and strode through the
foaming water. How easily he seemed to do it, and yet the light burden
was almost too much for him. His heart throbbed so that he thought she
must hear it; his cheeks flushed crimson, and he almost staggered
beneath her light weight, when Hilda shrank from the dashing water and
leaned more closely upon his shoulder.
And yet he could have wished to bear her thus in his arms for hours.
With a sigh he released her upon the opposite bank of the stream, and
she thanked him, and laughing at his thoroughly drenched condition,
passed on through the forest, while he stilled the wild throbbing of
his heart and the rushing of the blood in his veins as best he might.
How variable and whimsical he must seem to Hilda! he thought. Now he
would adopt a cold tone towards her, and now indulge in outbursts of
the wildest merriment, striving with a jest to deaden the agitation of
his soul. He saw that these jests were not pleasing to Hilda; she grew
very grave when he was recklessly gay; he would not distress her, and
so restrained himself and compelled himself to talk earnestly and
quietly. For this she rewarded him with eager interest and ready
sympathy.
He would have held himself aloof from her, but that was impossible; she
regarded him not as a stranger, but as her cousin Leo's dearest friend,
of whom he had talked so much and so often that she felt thoroughly at
home and at her ease in his society, and she treated him with a frank
familiarity that was irresistibly attractive to him, and the influence
of which he could not resist.
Often, as they walked fearlessly along the brink of frightful abysses,
he remembered his despairing desire to end a life that could offer him
no future save pain and anguish. As he talked gayly with Hilda such
thoughts would assail him; he would pause for an instant and gaze with
longing into the blue depths. Why should he live on? Eva and Leo were
reconciled. All that remained for him to do was to break the tie
between Eva and Bertram and his work in the world would be at an end.
But as he wandered on at Hilda's side the spell that her presence threw
around him would inevitably exert its power; gloomy thoughts would be
banished, and the love of life and all that makes life fair would stir
strongly again within him, although he deceived himself into the belief
that his only desire was to live until Leo's happiness should be
secured and Dr. Putzer be sufficiently recovered to tell him all that
he feared to learn.
Convinced that after at most a few more days he should be separated
from Hilda forever, he at last resigned himself utterly to the
enchantment of her presence, unaware of how her constant society fed
and increased the love which he felt for her. Consequently he grew
calmer; the feverish excitement which drove him to indulge in
extravagant merriment subsided: he took cheerful part in the general
conversation; and when they rested after some long ascent at the
wished-for point of view, he could thoroughly enjoy both the enthusiasm
of the others and the glories of the landscape. Still, when at the end
of the day the entire party would sit discussing their expedition, upon
the balcony, Paul was apt to fall into a gloomy revery from which it
needed a word from Hilda to rouse him. Thus the days and weeks passed
at Tausens with very little change, and no one divined what was going
on in the mind of him to whom all turned for enjoyment and sympathy.
One person however suspected that Delmar was by no means so careless as
he seemed. Guido von Bertram watched him keenly whenever he had an
opportunity, with many a misgiving that a storm was gathering above his
head. When it would break he could not tell, and he racked his brains
for some means whereby he might escape it.
The ex-lieutenant played but a sorry part in Tausens. When he returned
from his mountain-expedition, on the day of Herwarth's betrothal, he
found the entire party assembled upon the balcony, for Leo and Hilda
had despatched a messenger to the castle to inform Herr von Heydeck
that they should not return until late in the evening.
Uncle Balthasar had brewed a bowl of punch in honour of the occasion,
and the three gentlemen from Tausens had taken part in the festivity.
Uncle Balthasar was in an ecstasy; he repeatedly proposed the health of
the betrothed couple, and made them a short congratulatory speech in
his comical patois. His only disappointment was that 'dear Guido' was
not yet returned; and when 'dear Guido' did actually make his
appearance upon the balcony, the old man's happiness reached its
climax; he immediately filled him a glass of punch and required that he
should drink the health of the betrothed couple.
The surprising intelligence deprived Bertram for an instant of his
self-possession, and his face showed the dismay that he felt. In fact,
there was reason for it. Herwarth, Leo's most intimate friend,
betrothed to Aline, Eva's friend and confidante! What results might not
ensue! Probably a reconciliation between Eva and Leo. True enough,
there was his dreaded enemy beside his betrothed, and the two were
conversing as easily and pleasantly as if there had never been the
slightest misunderstanding between them. At the moment Leo was standing
with his hand on the back of Eva's chair; he bent above her and said
something in a low tone of voice. And she? She looked up at him with a
gentle smile, so lost in what he was saying that she never heard Uncle
Balthasar's joyous exclamation, "Here is our dear Guido!" and did not
know that her betrothed was looking on while she conversed familiarly
with his mortal enemy.
They were reconciled! The phantom which had scared Bertram since the
day of his betrothal had become a terrible reality. Eva loved Leo von
Heydeck,--her sweet smile, the tender light in her eyes as she looked
at him, revealed the fact even more plainly to Bertram's jealousy. He
grew giddy; he saw his whole future in peril, his fairest hopes
destroyed, and himself upon the brink of an abyss. But he must suppress
all manifestation of the dismay that he felt. Mechanically and with a
hand that trembled he took the glass which Uncle Balthasar offered him.
Fortunately, the individual members of the little party were too much
occupied with themselves to pay much attention to Bertram. Leo and Kuno
had indeed been aware of his entrance upon the balcony, but they did
not deign him a glance. Delmar however bestowed some notice upon him,
saying with the sarcastic smile which Bertram so detested, "When you
have congratulated our friends as in duty bound, Herr von Bertram, let
me pray you to bestow upon me the short time which the fatigue of your
expedition allows you to accord us this evening. Here is a place by my
side."
This was a command which Bertram did not dare to transgress. With rage
in his heart he obeyed.
He offered his congratulations to the betrothed couple. Aline received
them with the merest bow required by courtesy, and Kuno noticed them
not at all,--for him Herr von Bertram did not exist.
Guido controlled his anger; he did not dare to resent the contempt
shown for him by Herwarth. He had to pay his respects to his betrothed
after two days of absence,--a duty he would gladly have omitted. He
offered her his hand; she placed her own within it, but withdrew it
instantly. She asked one or two cold questions as to whether he had
enjoyed his excursion, and then turned and continued her conversation
with Leo, who did not accord him even a glance.
"Come, Herr von Bertram, I am waiting for you impatiently," said Paul.
Bertram obeyed, and took the vacant place beside his tormentor.
"Tell me of your excursion,--you know the interest I take in all that
concerns you. Egotist as I am however, I am not so selfish as to detain
you long when you must be so very much fatigued with your walk. Give me
only five minutes, and then when you have taken a couple of glasses of
Herr Schommer's excellent punch, I will not keep you an instant
longer."
This was another disguised command. This man was a tyrant, who refused
to allow his slave the slightest freedom of action, but Bertram obeyed.
With morbid loquacity he began to tell of his excursion, of the
glorious views from the Spitzhorn, and of the difficulties of the
ascent. He broke off however in the midst of his discourse, having
taken two glasses of punch, when Delmar took his watch from his pocket
with a meaning glance; he declared he was really too tired to continue
his description, and neither the request of the judge, who wanted to
hear more of the ascent of the Spitzhorn, nor Uncle Balthasar's
entreaty could detain him. He arose and took leave. Eva again gave him
her hand, scarcely interrupting as she did so her conversation with
Heydeck,--which, indeed, she had continued steadily, never paying any
attention to Bertram's loud description of his mountain-ascent or of
the natural beauty of the Rothwald valley.
Thus passed Bertram's first meeting with Leo since the scene beneath
Buechner's awning; he had suffered a fresh defeat and had left his enemy
at Eva's side; the worst he had to fear had nearly occurred.
Bertram had in fact had a most fatiguing walk; he was very weary, but
nevertheless he tossed restlessly upon his bed. There was no sleep
there for him,--he started up whenever the sound of gay laughter from
the balcony reached his ears, only to bury his head again among the
pillows to shut out if possible the hateful noise.
And even late in the night when all was still, when nothing stirred in
the rooms on either side of him, and he knew that Eva, as well as Aline
and Uncle Balthasar, had retired for the night, sleep fled his eyelids.
He thought with horror of his future. What would become of him if that
demon Paul Delmar should reveal to Eva her entire right to recall her
promise? He could not return to K----, where his debts were immense and
his honour and credit both gone. How should he even live from day to
day?
His property, which had been considerable, he had squandered in the
wildest dissipations; his creditors had abstained from resorting to
extreme measures only in the hope which he had held out to them of his
marriage with the wealthy heiress. If his engagement with Eva were
broken, nothing could keep him from their clutches should he attempt to
return to K----. The moisture stood in cold drops upon his forehead as
a vision of his probable future rose distinctly before him. A jail and
the disgraceful habit of a convict were all he had to look for. The
check with Count Waldheim's forged signature was in Delmar's
possession, and unfortunately it was not the only witness to be brought
against him. A well-known usurer in K---- possessed similar papers,
having been easily induced over Count Waldheim's name to furnish
Bertram with a large sum of money for the liquidation of a pressing
gaming debt.
With the recklessness of a thorough gamester, Bertram had lived along
from day to day in the hopes of winning Eva's hand. To escape dishonour
he had become a forger; to cover one counterfeit check he had drawn up
another for a larger sum. Delmar had helped him upon one occasion,--he
had not dared to apply to him again; and so he had gone on plunging
deeper into debt and disgrace, until he saw no means of escape save by
a marriage with Eva.
A jail! Horrible thought! There was no sacrifice he would not make to
escape such a fate. Once in a feverish vision of so frightful a future
there had risen in his excited fancy the thought of a certain casket,
in which Eva kept her most valuable jewels, diamonds, and ready money;
but he had rejected this thought with horror. Now it recurred to him
again. He knew the casket well; it was of ebony, with Eva's monogram
inlaid in gilt on the lid. He had helped to pack it into the
travelling-carriage when they had left K----, for Eva took it with her
wherever she went; it was dear to her as her dead father's gift.
Just before leaving her home Eva had opened it in his presence to put
in a large sum of money designed for travelling expenses, and he had
admired the brilliancy and size of the diamonds it contained. He had
asked his betrothed why she took such valuable jewels with her upon a
tour among the mountains, and had received for a reply that she never
left them behind her when she went from K----, since the casket with
the diamonds was her father's last gift to her, and she was nervous
lest it might be stolen if she did not have it with her.
As he now tossed restlessly in bed, the ebony casket, with the
glittering diamonds and the large roll of notes, recurred to Bertram's
mind. What might be the possible value of the diamonds? Uncle Balthasar
had mentioned that his brother had paid more than ten thousand thalers
for them in Berlin. Besides the diamonds the casket contained other
jewels, worth at least several thousand more, and then the money.
Bertram did not know how much there was, but the bundle of large notes
was thick, and there were two or three packets of gold besides. There
must have been several thousand thalers,--a trifle for Eva, the wealthy
heiress, but a treasure for one who looked forward to a jail as his
only future.
Physical exhaustion at last overcame him; his eyes closed and he sank
into an uneasy slumber, in which his dreams were still of the ebony
casket and its contents. He dreamed that Eva gave it to him. He counted
the money: it amounted to a huge sum. He took up the diamonds, and was
just feeding his gaze upon their lustre, when Leo von Heydeck snatched
them from his hand. He turned and grappled with him; but just as he
would have overthrown his foe he felt himself in Delmar's iron grasp,
and heard his sneering voice cry, "To jail with the scoundrel, he stole
both money and diamonds!" In his struggle to free himself he awoke.
Trembling in every limb, he sat up in bed and looked about the room,
which was lit up by the pale moonlight. It was some minutes before he
could recover from the effects of his feverish dream, and he could not
rid himself of the thought of the ebony casket. Eva had it in her room
upon a table beside her bed; at least it had been there on the previous
morning, for he had noticed and recognized it as he passed by the open
door of her room.
He was now wide awake, and his glance fell upon the door that connected
his room with Eva's. In the moonlight he saw the glitter of the key in
the lock. Were Eva and Aline sound asleep? They had taken a long walk
in the morning and had retired late. Bertram had heard the postmaster
say that the young ladies had returned quite fatigued from their
expedition. Honest Hansel had forgotten to mention that Aline had not
joined them.
If he could succeed in unlocking the door and opening it without noise,
it would be easy enough to enter the room unheard by the sleeping
girls. To possess himself of the casket would be but the work of a
moment, and no one would dream that he could have taken it.
Bertram got out of bed, slipped on his dressing-gown, and noiselessly
crept to the door leading to Aline's and Eva's apartment. He listened
with his ear at the key-hole. The profound silence told of the deep
slumber of the occupants of the room. With the greatest caution he
succeeded in turning the key noiselessly in the lock; all that
was to be done was to open the door as silently. His heart throbbed and
his hand trembled as he took hold of the latch. "Courage! Boldly
ventured is half won," he said to himself, as he pressed down the latch
and pushed against the door, which however did not yield to his
efforts,--it was bolted on the inside. "Fool that I am!" he exclaimed
to himself as with a whispered curse he stole back again to his bed.
The sun stood high in the heavens when Bertram next awoke. He
remembered the events of the night as those of a terrible dream, and
yet strangely enough, its fantastic images pursued him in his waking
hours. His thoughts dwelt perpetually upon the ebony casket, and upon
how he could gain possession of it without being suspected of the
theft.
Theft! It was an ugly word, and had not occurred to him during the
night, but in the light of day the deed he contemplated showed for what
it was, and he acknowledged to himself, with an angry flush that proved
him not quite dead to a sense of shame, that the appropriation to
himself of the casket, even although it belonged to his betrothed, was
nothing more or less than a common theft.
Such thoughts however were uppermost but for a moment. He reflected
again that a theft was no worse than a forgery, nor more severely
punished by the law. The possession of the casket would enable him to
escape punishment for forgery, by providing him the means wherewith, if
the worst came to the worst, he might seek refuge in foreign lands. It
was folly to shrink from a word, and he found some excuse for himself
in the consideration that all that was Eva's might soon be legally his.
Was she not his betrothed? If she kept her promise to him it would be
easy to contrive some way of restoring the casket to her at a future
day; and if she broke her engagement with him she deserved no mercy at
his hands, and he must look out for his own safety.
While he dressed, his mind was filled with thoughts of this description
with which he silenced the last whispers of conscience. He left his
room and betook himself to the balcony. He feared that he should find
Delmar at breakfast there, but that could not be helped. As long as the
balcony served the guests of the inn for a dining-room it was
impossible to avoid seeing them there.
But to Bertram's satisfaction, Delmar was not on the balcony, nor,
indeed, was Eva to be found there. Uncle Balthasar and Aunt Minni were
sitting at the breakfast-table with Fraeulein von Schlicht and Herwarth,
and they had finished drinking their coffee.
Uncle Balthasar received him with some good-natured badinage about his
late rising, telling him that Leo von Heydeck and Fraeulein Hilda had
carried off Eva and Herr Delmar upon a mountain-excursion early in the
morning. They had started at six o'clock, and would not return until
evening, for Eva had ordered her servant Wilhelm and a boy from the inn
to follow them with lunch packed in baskets.
Guido was relieved, it is true, to know that there was no chance of his
meeting his enemies for some hours to come, but vexation at Eva's
treatment of him far overbalanced this relief. Had she forgotten that
she was betrothed to him? Did she not outrage decency by thus wandering
about the country with Delmar without even giving her future bridegroom
a choice whether or not to join them? This conduct on her part gave him
a right to treat her with the same want of consideration, and again he
thought of the ebony casket.
Uncle Balthasar also probably felt uncomfortable at the slight put upon
his 'dear Guido' by his niece, and tried to excuse it by remarking that
Eva would not have him disturbed after his fatigue of the previous day,
and that he, Uncle Balthasar, was quite ready to accompany him if he
felt like a morning walk, an offer which Bertram declined almost
roughly, explaining that he was far too tired to take another walk, and
that he would go to his room and write letters. He finished his
breakfast in silence, replying in monosyllables to Uncle Balthasar's
good-humoured inquiries with regard to his expedition of the previous
day, and immediately rose and left the balcony. With Aline and Aunt
Minni he had not exchanged a word, and his morning salutation to
Herwarth had been barely acknowledged.
As he passed along the passage to his room he noticed that the door of
Eva's apartment was open. The thought suddenly occurred to him, "What
if this were the right moment?" He looked cautiously about him,--no one
was to be seen. He hastily entered the half-open door, and found
himself face to face with Nanette, who was putting the room in order.
"Nanette!"
There was so distinct an expression of surprise unmixed with pleasure
on Bertram's face as he uttered her name, that Nanette could not but
perceive it, and her temper was not at all improved by doing so. She
gave the intruder an angry glance, and said in a sharp tone, with an
emphasis upon every word, "Much obliged, I'm sure. Herr von Bertram
does really remember my name. I shall certainly find some way to show
my gratitude for such condescension. No need to shout until one is out
of the woods. If you want to catch gold-fish, see that no one throws
stones in the water."
The girl was really angry; her eyes fairly flashed with malice. Bertram
saw that she was offended by his neglect of her, and just now she might
prove a most valuable ally; she must be appeased. He looked round once
more to see that there was no one near, and then entering the room,
closed the door carefully behind him. Yes, there beside the bed stood
the table upon which was placed the ebony casket,--the goal of his
desires. He needed but to stretch out his hand and it was his. But
Nanette must be won over to his schemes.
With the sweetest smile at his command he regarded her. "What's the
matter, my little darling?" he asked, in the tenderest of tones. "Are
you angry with me? What have I done? Here am I so happy to have a
chance of seeing you alone at last, hoping you would run into my arms,
and you receive me with hard words. How can you do so, you naughty
little thing?"
He approached her and would have put his arm around her waist, but she
pushed him away. "Don't touch me!" she said crossly. "You think it
needs only a couple of smooth words to wind a silly girl around your
finger; but you shall find to your cost that you are wrong! I'll show
you what it is to turn a poor girl's head and then break her heart for
the sake of a purse-proud Zantuppy. You shall learn who I am, my fine
Herr Lieutenant!"
"But, my darling----"
"Hands off, or I'll scream!" the girl exclaimed, when Guido made
another attempt to put his arm around her; and she struck at him with
the coarse dust-cloth she had in her hand. "I'll not be fooled again
with your flattering, deceitful speeches. It's all very well to call me
'darling' now, and make eyes at me, but for a whole week you've never
even looked at me. I hate Fraeulein Eva's stupid black eyes, but the
haughty thing shall know who used to steal to my chamber at night when
I lived with the Privy Councillor's lady. She'll be furious enough, and
the Herr Lieutenant will see what will become of his gold-fish. Ugh! I
can't stand these vulgar commoners! While she drives her four horses, a
girl worth ten of her must perch like a scarecrow on the box; and while
she's off in the woods with Herr Delmar and Herr von Heydeck, Nanette
has to stick at home in a wretched inn and sleep in the garret with a
stupid maid! I've lived with the best, and I'll not stand it. I'll give
them all something to think of, and the Herr Lieutenant into the
bargain. I'll have my revenge, and I hope you'll enjoy it."
Nanette paused for breath, and would then have continued with her angry
outburst, but Bertram interrupted her: "Has jealousy made you mad,
girl? Do you not know that I hate your mistress as much as you do?
Can't your bright eyes see that? You are the only one whom I love, you
foolish little darling----"
"I have not seen much of it this last week."
"How can my foolish little pet be so blinded by jealousy? Can we live
on air, my dear? We have nothing,--for your sake I must be the victim."
"A pretty victim!"
"And hard enough it is; I am sometimes almost wild with fury when I see
how the odious creature treats you; but let her once be my wife, and I
will repay with usury every hard word she ever gave to my sweet angel;
she shall suffer for her arrogance, and you shall have everything
that heart can desire,--a charming villa, a superb carriage, silk
dresses, and as many jewels as you want. We will live together in
Paradise,--that shall be your revenge!"
Nanette's eyes sparkled: the malicious look passed from her face. She
smiled, and did not shrink from the lieutenant's encircling arm; but
she shook her head nevertheless, and said, "Those are only castles in
the air. You don't know the Zantuppy,--she guards her money like a
dragon, or like the foul fiend himself!"
"I do not see that----"
"But I do! There in that black box she has more money than she can ever
use; but she keeps it locked up, like a perfect miser. Only a little
while ago, in Munich, when I asked her for a paltry advance of fifty
thalers of my wages to buy a new bonnet and a silk mantilla for the
journey, what did she do? Glared at me out of her stupid black eyes,
and said, 'I do not desire to see my maid tricked out in finery; you
shall have your wages as you earn them, but not a penny in advance to
gratify your vanity.' Those were her very words. I should have liked to
box her ears!"
"Odious creature!"
"Yes; and is it not hard to see you making eyes at her and never even
looking at me?"
"Can I help it, you foolish child? If she guessed how dear you are to
me she would dismiss you instantly, and I should never have a chance of
seeing you. I have suffered enough this last week, but I hope we can
arrange matters better in future. I have a plan by which we can often
be together undisturbed. With your help it can easily be carried out."
"What is it?"
"It is simple enough. You are often busy here while Eva and the rest
are on the balcony. I might come to you here, but that would be too
dangerous; we might be surprised here at any moment, and all would be
lost. And you cannot come to my room either, for fear of being seen;
but if you will always take care that the bolt on this side of the door
between the rooms is slipped back, we can be together as often as we
choose and not a human being suspect it."
Nanette gave an ugly laugh as Bertram made this proposal. "Not so
stupid as you think," she said. "Thank heaven I can see through a
millstone, and have long known your silly admiration for Fraeulein
Aline's doll-face. You would like to pay her a quiet visit now and
then. No, I thank you, Herr Lieutenant!"
"You are perfectly insane with jealousy!" Bertram exclaimed, forgetting
his wonted caution in his surprise at an accusation so unfounded.
Warned however by the angry flush on Nanette's cheek, he restrained his
vexation, and continued in a tone of mild reproach: "How can you
entertain so odious a suspicion, my pet? I detest that waxen-faced
Aline almost as much as her friend. I cannot understand how you can
speak so."
"Are you to be trusted, I wonder?"
"You will really provoke me, Nanette. This is all I have in return for
my affection. At great risk I come to look for you, to speak with you
for a moment, and you receive me thus unkindly. Come, lock the door
into the passage and unbolt the one leading to my room, where we can
then talk further without any danger. We can hear the moment Frau
Schommer leaves the balcony, and you can slip back here again without
the slightest fear of detection."
The invitation was too tempting to be refused. Nanette locked the door
into the passage, and unbolted the one between Fraeulein Schommer's and
Bertram's rooms.
Guido's end was attained to his great satisfaction, and he now had so
much to say to Nanette, of the future that awaited her when he should
have married the heiress and her wealth should be his, that the girl
quite forgot her former jealous ill humour, and imparted to him the
import of the various conversations she had lately contrived to
overhear between her mistress and Fraeulein Aline. Fraeulein von Schlicht
had done all that she could, Nanette said, to induce Eva to break her
engagement, but Eva had declared firmly that she would keep her
promise.
This intelligence was very soothing to Bertram, and he began to think
that it would perhaps be better to resign his designs upon the casket;
but he reflected that Eva's purpose would never be maintained should
she ever learn from Delmar that her promise was the result of falsehood
upon the part of her betrothed. Half an hour passed thus in
confidential discourse, when the door leading from the passage to Aunt
Minni's room was heard to open. Nanette, at this note of warning,
slipped back into Eva's apartment, and the next instant Bertram heard
her push the bolt home. He uttered a low curse. "D--n her stupid
jealousy!" was the flattering phrase bestowed upon Nanette, as he
walked to the window and sat down to ponder upon some other means of
obtaining the casket. He could devise none, save by taking it at night.
Although Eva's room was often open in the daytime, there would be no
possibility of concealing it elsewhere in the house, where it would be
immediately missed; and to carry it off to the forest by daylight, when
the inn was full of people, would be equally impossible.
Nevertheless he did not resign his project, and he determined to
accustom Nanette to a frequent unbolting of the door, in hopes that,
grown careless, she might some time forget to bolt it again.
This determination he carried out during the ensuing weeks. He could do
so all the more easily by reason of the part which he was compelled to
play with regard to the rest of the party. Herwarth, and Leo who came
daily with Hilda from the castle to join in excursions among the
mountains, took no notice whatever of Eva's betrothed. They never even
looked at him, and Aline only spoke to him when common courtesy
required that she should do so.
Eva did not hold herself so entirely aloof; she preserved towards
Bertram the same cold politeness that she had always shown him,
allowing him to call her by her first name, although she never
addressed him otherwise than as Herr von Bertram. All familiar approach
on his part she repelled by a frigid reserve. Bertram was made to feel
that the slightest attempt to assert his rights as her betrothed would
be fruitless, and he could not but see how much more familiar was her
manner towards Delmar, Herwarth, and even Leo than towards himself.
Warned by his enemy, Guido never ventured to take part in the daily
excursions. He made one of the party only at breakfast, dinner, and
supper, and here Delmar endured his society no longer than he thought
absolutely necessary.
If, at the end of an hour at most, Bertram made any attempt to join in
the general conversation, Delmar was sure to make some remark which
contained a command to leave in disguise,--a command which the former
dragoon hastened to obey. His observation, quickened by terror, told
him that at the first sign of rebellion against his enemy's authority
the storm which he so dreaded would burst above his devoted head.
In these last few weeks Paul had greatly changed. Often when the others
were conversing eagerly he would sit gazing dreamily out upon the
distant mountains, in a way very unlike himself. When he roused himself
from such brooding reveries, Bertram almost always caught an angry
glance from his dark eyes, which convinced him more and more that he
meditated striking a blow at his prospects, and that, for some hidden
reason, his hand was stayed for the moment. He guessed that this blow
was the breaking of his engagement with Eva, for any one could see the
pleasure Delmar took in the growing intimacy between Leo and Fraeulein
Schommer, and that he would gladly remove any obstacle to their
happiness.
The firmer this conviction became in Guido's mind the more was he
strengthened in his resolve to insure his own future by the possession
of the ebony casket, and he availed himself of every opportunity for
the private interviews he had contrived with Nanette. Almost every
evening they met in his room, and to his great satisfaction he saw that
he was gradually destroying in her frivolous mind all mistrust of him,
although every evening when she left him he still heard the low
creaking of the bolt as it was pushed into its staples, and Eva's door
remained not only closed to him but fast bolted.