A JEALOUS LOVER.
For three days there had been raging in the Wolkenstein district a
storm which even in this mountain-region was held to be unprecedented
in violence. The keen blasts of November set in several weeks earlier
this year and were unusual in their fury. In addition, the rain poured
down day and night; in certain valleys there had been rain-spouts which
had deluged the fields, and had so swollen streams and brooks that they
had burst all bounds, overflowed their banks, and made travel
impossible. Communication with Heilborn was interrupted, intercourse
between neighbouring hamlets and villages was maintained with
difficulty, and the danger increased from hour to hour.
In the Nordheim villa preparations had been made for a return to the
capital, but any such intention had to be given up, since travel was
not to be thought of in this weather. All regretted the impossibility,
and longed to be gone, for the entire household was oppressed as by
some gloomy spell.
Alice pleaded indisposition, and had not left her room for several
days, availing herself of this pretext to avoid meeting her father,
whom she had dreaded since their last interview; but the president's
mind was filled with far other anxieties. He probably never noticed his
child's avoidance of him, nor was he aware of the strained relations
existing of late between Erna and her betrothed.
The good fortune which had befriended him hitherto during his life
seemed all at once to be forsaking him; it was as if some hostile power
were at work, frustrating all his efforts, confusing all his schemes,
and confounding all his expectations.
The boldly-conceived plan, the success of which was to gain him
millions, was shattered, and its ruin came from a quarter whence he had
never looked for it. The man whom he thought indissolubly bound to
himself and to his interests withdrew from his plans at the decisive
moment, and made their execution impossible. Nordheim knew perfectly
well that if the engineer-in-chief, his future son-in-law, refused to
approve the estimates as they had been made out, it would be impossible
to present them to the company. The scheme was naught since Elmhorst
refused his aid, opposing a frigid refusal to all efforts to persuade
him. There had been a brief, stern interview between the two men, and
it had set the seal upon their estrangement.
Then Wolfgang had spent an hour with his betrothed. What had passed at
this interview no one was told, not even the girl's father. Alice, with
unwonted decision, refused to speak of it, but the parting had surely
not been unkindly, for when Elmhorst left the house, not to enter it
again, Alice had waved him a farewell from the window more cordial than
any she had ever vouchsafed him while they were betrothed, and he had
responded with equal cordiality.
Nordheim was not a man to bear with equanimity the ruin of schemes
which he had spent years in developing, and to his vexation on that
score was added annoyance at Gronau's threats, which he had at first
underestimated. He regretted that he had not attempted at least to
conciliate the former friend, whose restless energy he had been
familiar with of old. It had been a mistake to make an enemy of him, a
mistake which might have serious consequences.
For the moment it was, however, all thrown into the background in view
of a threatened loss which dwarfed all other anxiety in the president's
mind. The mountain-railway, which should have been completed in a few
days, was in great peril from the freshets. From all quarters came
terrifying reports,--one piece of bad news followed another. The injury
done was already serious; if the storm should continue and the water
mount higher it might be incalculable, and Nordheim was implicated
pecuniarily to an extent which could not but be very grave even to a
man of his vast wealth.
Erna and Molly, whose departure had been perforce postponed, were in
the drawing-room. The lawsuit which had brought Gersdorf to Heilborn
had been decided by a compromise, the arrangement of which detained the
lawyer a few days longer. His wife was at first delighted, for in her
capacity of guardian angel she considered her presence in the Nordheim
household as absolutely necessary, although, to her great
disappointment, she was obliged to admit that she had nothing here to
protect.
The engineer-in-chief had retired; his betrothal with Alice was
dissolved, as all the family now knew, and Alice obstinately refused to
open her heart to her friend. Benno was just as impracticable, seeming
to persist in his idea of a separation, and, worse than all, no human
being required any advice or counsel from Frau Doctor Gersdorf, who was
naturally indignant at such base insensibility.
"That is my reward for my philanthropy," she said, very much out of
humour. "Here I sit, as upon a desert island in the midst of the ocean,
cut off from all the world, separated from my husband, in danger of
being swept away at any moment by a deluge. Albert may be obliged to
rescue my corpse from the raging element and return to town an
inconsolable widower. I wonder if he will marry again? It would be
horrible. I should turn in my grave. But then men are capable of
anything."
Erna, standing at the window looking out at the storm and rain, hardly
heard this chatter; her thoughts were elsewhere.
"We are not in any peril here, Molly," she said at last. "The house is
perfectly safe, standing as high as it does, but I am afraid matters
look serious in Oberstein and on the railway."
"Oh, the engineer-in-chief will take care of that," Molly declared,
confidently. "We hear from all sides of his heroic conduct, how he
accomplishes the impossible. We never did this Elmhorst justice. He
released Alice although he resigned millions by so doing, and now he is
exerting himself to the utmost to preserve the railway for your uncle,
although they separated in anger. Confess, Erna, that you were
prejudiced against him."
"Yes--I was," Erna replied, softly.
"There comes your betrothed!" exclaimed Molly, joining Erna at the
window. "How odd he looks! The water is actually pouring from his
waterproof; he has ridden over from Oberstein in this storm. I think he
would really go through fire and water for one hour with you. But
marriage puts an end to all that, my child; trust the experience of a
wife of four months. My lord and master sits calmly with his manuscript
in Heilborn and waits until the weather is clear enough to come to me.
Your romantic Ernst appears, indeed, to be made of different stuff. But
what is the matter with him? For three days he has been glooming about
like a thunder-cloud, never taking his eyes off you when you are in the
room. It is positively terrible to see you together. Nothing will
persuade me that there has not something occurred between you. Do be
frank with me, Erna; open your heart to me. I am as silent as the
grave."
She clasped her hands upon her breast in asseveration of her
trustworthiness, but Erna, instead of throwing herself into her arms
and confessing, returned the greeting of her betrothed as he alighted
from his horse, and then said, evasively, "You are quite mistaken,
Molly; nothing has happened,--nothing at all."
Frau Gersdorf turned away provoked: no one seemed in the least need of
a guardian angel; these people had a very stupid way of managing their
affairs themselves. The little lady could not understand it, and she
rustled out of the room decidedly out of humour.
Scarcely was she gone when Waltenberg entered. He had laid aside his
hat and cloak, but nevertheless his dress showed traces of the storm,
against which no cloak was a protection. He greeted his betrothed with
his usual chivalric courtesy, but there was something chilling in his
air which was strangely contradicted by the glow in his dark eyes.
Molly was right: he was indeed like some thunder-cloud, whose depths
threaten ominously.
Erna went to meet him in evident embarrassment; she had learned to
dread this icy calm.
"Well, how is all going on outside?" she said. "You come directly from
Oberstein?"
"Yes, but I had to take a roundabout way, for the mountain-road is
under water. Oberstein itself looks tolerably secure, but the villagers
have entirely lost their heads, and are running about bewailing
themselves incessantly. Dr. Reinsfeld is doing all that he can to bring
them to reason, and Gronau is giving him all possible support, but the
people are behaving like lunatics because they think their paltry
belongings are in peril.
"Those paltry belongings, however, are all that they have in the
world," the girl interposed. "Their own lives and those of their
families depend upon them."
Ernst shrugged his shoulders indifferently: "I suppose so; but what is
that in comparison with the tremendous loss sustained by the railway?
As I entered the house just now tidings of fresh disasters were brought
to the president. Nothing but ill news from all quarters. Everything
seems to be imperilled."
"But they are working away desperately; can it be entirely in vain?"
"Yes, the engineer-in-chief is waging desperate warfare against the
elements," Ernst said, with a kind of savage satisfaction. "He is
defending his beloved creation to the death, but against such
catastrophes no mortal power avails. The water is steadily rising, the
dikes are giving way, and the bridges on the lower portion of the road
are already carried off. All nature seems in revolt."
Erna was silent. She went again to the window, and looked out into the
mist, which made any distant view impossible. Even the stretch of
railway in the vicinity of the villa was invisible, while the roaring
of the waters was distinctly audible. Below there Wolfgang was doing
battle at the head of his men, fighting, perhaps, in vain.
"The Wolkenstein bridge stands firm, at all events," Waltenberg
continued. "Herr Elmhorst ought to be satisfied with that, and not
expose himself so foolishly, as he does at every opportunity. He is no
coward, it must be admitted, but it is folly to risk his life to save
every dike that is threatened. He does wonders at the head of his
engineers and labourers, who follow his lead blindly. They had better
take care, or he will drag them with him to destruction."
There was a cold, calculating cruelty in his way of speaking to his
betrothed of the peril threatening the life of the man whom he knew she
loved. She turned and gave him a sad, reproachful glance: "Ernst!"
"Beg pardon?" he asked, without heeding her glance.
"Why do you avoid the frank explanation which I have so often tried to
give you? Do you not wish for it?"
"No, I do not desire it. Let us be silent about it."
"Because you know that your silence torments me more than any
reproaches, and because it gives you pleasure to torment me."
The girl's eyes flashed, but her passionate outbreak was met with icy
coolness: "How you misapprehend me! I wish to spare you a painful
explanation."
"And why? I do not feel guilty. I will neither deny nor conceal
anything----"
"No more than you did at our betrothal!" he interposed, severely. "You
were very frank then--about everything save the name. You intentionally
left me in error,--an error for which I was originally accountable."
"I feared----"
"For him--of course! I perfectly understand that. But reassure
yourself. I am not particular as to time; I can wait."
Erna shuddered at his strange, significant words: "Wait--for what? For
God's sake tell me what you mean!"
His smile was cold and cruel as he replied, "How timid you have grown!
You used to be braver; but in fact there is one thing which can inspire
you with absolutely senseless terror, as I have seen."
"And for this one thing you force me to do penance daily! It is an
ignoble revenge, Ernst. I will refuse you no answer, no confession,
that you ask for: only tell me, have you spoken with Wolfgang Elmhorst
since that day?"
A full minute passed before Ernst replied, during which he studied her
every feature intently. "Yes," he said slowly, at last.
"And what passed between you?" Her voice trembled with suppressed
anxiety, though she tried hard to control it.
"Excuse me, that is a matter between Herr Elmhorst and myself. But you
need not distress yourself: I found Herr Elmhorst quite ready to
forestall my wishes, and we parted, understanding each other
perfectly."
He emphasized every word ironically, and his irony drove Erna to the
last extremity. Hitherto she had mutely endured everything lest she
should irritate him still more against Wolfgang. She knew that he would
fain be revenged upon him; but now, thoroughly roused, she said,
indignantly, "Take care, Ernst; do not go too far. You may repent it. I
am not yet your wife; I can still release myself----"
She did not finish her sentence, for Waltenberg's grasp upon her wrist
was like steel, as he muttered, "Try it; the day that you sever the tie
between us is the last of his life."
Erna grew pale: his face told her more than his threat. Now that he had
dropped the mask of coolness and irony there was in his expression
something tiger-like, and the evil fire in his eyes made her shudder.
She knew he would suit his deeds to his words.
"You are horrible!" she said, below her breath. "I--submit!"
"I knew it," he said, with a laugh. "My arguments are convincing."
He slowly released her hand, for Molly, having got over her fit of the
sulks, entered the room, curious to know how all was faring in
Oberstein, what her cousin Benno was doing, and how it looked along the
railway; she had, as usual, a thousand questions to ask.
Waltenberg replied courteously; he had instantly recovered his
self-possession, and one would never have suspected the tiger-like
nature that he had betrayed a moment before.
"If it would give you pleasure, and you are not afraid of the rain, we
might ride down," he said, after a detailed description of the freshet.
"Pleasure!" cried Molly, who with all her waywardness was truly
tender-hearted. "How can you use the word in view of such misery?"
"True," Ernst replied, with a shrug, "a single man can avail nothing;
but I assure you the spectacle is extremely interesting."
Erna uttered no word of reproof, but this utter selfishness inspired
her with horror. Down below there, hundreds were expending their utmost
force to preserve a bold creation upon which they had laboured for
years; enormous sums of money were at stake, and, moreover, the poor
mountaineers were threatened with the loss of their little all. Ernst
had not one word of compassion or of sympathy in view of this calamity;
he regarded it all as a very interesting spectacle, and if he
experienced any other sensation, it was satisfaction that the work of
his enemy was menaced with ruin.
And this man would force her to spend an entire, long life at his side;
she must belong to him body and soul; and should she rebel and try to
break the chain which she had almost involuntarily allowed to be thrown
around her in a moment of surprise, he threatened her with the death of
him whom she loved, and thus disarmed her. He had found a menace before
which all defiance, all opposition, vanished.
The president's voice was heard in the next room giving orders in an
agitated tone, and the next moment he appeared, very pale, and
evidently retaining his composure only by a great effort. According to
the latest intelligence, the worst was to be apprehended; he wanted to
go down himself and see how matters stood with the railway. Waltenberg
immediately declared his intention of accompanying him; and, turning to
his betrothed, he asked, as quietly as if nothing special had passed
between them, "Will you not come too, Erna? We shall ride to those
places that are in the greatest peril. I know you are not afraid."
Erna hesitated for a few seconds, and then hastily consented. She must
see what was going on; she could not wait and watch here, looking out
into the driving mist which veiled everything, and only hearing reports
from the scene of disaster. They were going to the places in the
greatest peril; Wolfgang would be there. She should at least see him!
Molly, who did not understand how any one could venture out in such
weather, looked after them, shaking her head, as they rode away. Even
the president was on horseback, for in the present condition of
the roads the mountain conveyances were quite useless; the stout
mountain-ponies had much ado to get over the ground through the thick
mud. The little party rode on in oppressive silence; now and then
Waltenberg made a brief remark, which was scarcely heeded. They took
their way first to the Wolkenstein bridge.