Herr Berkow's very extensive mining works lay at some distance from the
capital, in one of the remoter provinces. The neighbouring country
offered no great attractions. Hills, and nothing but hills; for miles
around only the uniform dark green of the pines, which clothed alike
the heights and valleys; buried in their midst occasional villages and
hamlets, and, here and there, a farm or a country-house. But the soil
up in these parts could not yield much. The treasures of the land lay
hidden under the earth, and therefore was it that all the life and
activity of the neighbourhood congregated to the Berkow estates, where
operations on a magnificent scale were carried on for bringing these
treasures forth to the light of day.
The estates were rather isolated and cut off from the great lines of
communication, for the nearest town was some miles distant; but the
great labyrinth of buildings, store and dwelling houses, which had
sprung up in these quiet valleys, with all their busy life and
movement, formed almost a town in itself. Every appliance which
industry or science could suggest, every assistance which machinery and
men's hands could afford, was here brought into play to wring its
treasures from the reluctant earth. A perfect host of officials, of
engineers, inspectors, and superintendents, all under the control of
the Director, formed a colony apart, and the men, to be counted by
several thousands, only a small minority of whom could be lodged on the
spot, lived in the adjacent villages.
The undertaking which, from a very insignificant beginning, had only
been raised by the present proprietor to the vast proportions it had
now attained, seemed almost too great for the means of any private
individual. A gigantic capital was indeed needed to keep it on foot; it
was by far the most important enterprise of the sort in the province,
and took the lead, therefore, in its branch of industry. This
settlement with its unlimited forces of machinery and hand labour,
with its establishments and dwelling-houses, with its officials and
working-men, formed a state in itself, and its master was as sovereign
a lord as any ruler of a small principality.
It was somewhat surprising that a man at the head of such an
undertaking should have hitherto failed to obtain a distinction for
which he had striven, and which had been granted to others who had done
less for the industry of the country. But whenever the decision on such
matters emanates directly from a very high quarter, the character and
conduct of the candidate for honours come into question. It was so
here. Berkow enjoyed but little sympathy in the leading circles of
society; there were so many dark spots in his past life, which his
riches could veil, but not altogether efface. He had certainly never
come into open conflict with the law, but he had often enough drawn
very near those confines where the law's action makes itself felt. It
was even averred by many that his operations in the distant province,
on however grand a scale they might be, were yet not altogether
exemplary.
Much was said of an unscrupulous system of working, which aimed only at
increasing the proprietor's wealth, and took no heed of the ill or well
being of those human agents impressed into its service, of arbitrary
encroachments on the part of the officials, of a low ferment of
discontent among the hands. But, after all, these were only reports,
the settlement itself lay too far off for them to be verified; on the
other hand, the fact remained certain that it proved an almost
inexhaustible source of wealth to its owner.
Every one was forced, indeed, to confess that this man's perseverance,
tenacity, and industrial genius, were at least equal to his
unscrupulousness. Sprung originally from a very low condition, tossed
hither and thither by the waves of life, he had at last succeeded in
gaining a point of vantage, and now for some years had enjoyed the
undisputed position of a millionaire. In fact, fortune had latterly
seemed to follow in his footsteps; each time he put her to the test,
she remained faithful to him, and the most precarious transaction, the
most hazardous speculation, would invariably succeed if his hand were
but at the helm.
Berkow had become a widower early in life, and had never re-married. To
his restless mind, always bent upon the chances of gain, home-ties
seemed more of a chain than a consolation. His only son and heir had
been brought up in the capital, and nothing had been spared for his
education in the way of tutors, professors, visits to the University,
and home and foreign travel. But as for any peculiar preparation for
his calling as the future head and leader of a great industrial
enterprise, such a thing was not thought of.
Herr Arthur showed a decided distaste for learning anything beyond the
usual fashionable curriculum, and his father was much too weak, and
much too vain of the brilliant role his son was playing--to support
which he himself cheerfully paid--ever to insist upon a more thorough
course of study. If it came to the worst, there were always capable men
enough to be had whose technical and commercial knowledge could be
secured at a high salary. So the young heir came but once a year to his
possessions in the far-off province, while his father, though he took
up his residence occasionally in the capital, still retained the
superintendence of the whole concern.
The young couple had not been specially favoured by the weather during
their visit to the country. The sun showed itself but rarely this
spring-time; after many rainy days it shone out at last, however, as if
to greet the Sunday. The shafts were empty and the works at rest; but
in spite of the Sabbath calm and the smiling sunshine, something of the
gloomy monotonous character of the country seemed to weigh on the whole
colony.
No attempt at embellishment, no attention to the convenience of the
inhabitants, was noticeable in the buildings connected with the
industry of the place, or in the dwelling-houses; they were all
constructed on a strictly utilitarian principle. That a due sense of
the beautiful was not wanting to the proprietor, his own house
sufficiently attested. Care had been taken to build it at a suitable
distance from the works, and so that it should command a full view over
the wooded hills. Within and without it was fitted up and decorated in
so luxurious a style as to be almost princely, and with its balconies,
terraces and flower gardens, it looked like an oasis of fragrance and
poetry lying in the midst of this busy region.
In the immediate neighbourhood of the shafts stood the cottage of
Hartmann, the Manager. Its appearance plainly showed that the occupant
enjoyed a position of peculiar privilege, and so indeed it was. In his
youth the sturdy miner had married a girl in the service of the late
Frau Berkow, and a special favourite of her mistress. Even after her
marriage the young woman preserved something of her old relations with
her former employers, and so it came to pass that her husband was
favoured and preferred in every way, advanced from post to post, and
finally even promoted to be working-manager. These relations and these
favours ceased, it is true, at Frau Berkow's death; the widower was not
the man to trouble himself about former members of his household, and
when Hartmann's wife also died shortly afterwards, the old connection
came altogether to an end.
But from that time forth, the Manager had cherished a strong devotion
to the Berkow family, to whose support he owed his present position so
devoid of care, whereas, without it, he would probably, like so many of
his comrades, never have got beyond the laborious, poorly-paid work
in the mines. Several years ago he had brought home his sister's
orphan-child, Martha Ewers, and now she admirably filled the place of
mistress of his house. As for the fulfilment of his secret desire that
she and his son should come together as man and wife, there seemed so
far but small prospect of it.
On this particular Sunday morning, the cottage, formerly so peaceful,
had been the scene of one of those excited discussions which unhappily
had ceased to be uncommon between father and son. The Manager, standing
in the middle of the room, was declaiming violently at Ulric, who had
just returned from the Director's house, and now leaned, silent and
morose, against the door. Martha stood a little apart, watching the
strife with unconcealed anxiety.
"Was such a thing ever heard of!" stormed the old man. "Have you not
enemies enough up yonder, that you must set to work to hunt up more? A
sum of money is offered to my gentleman there, large enough to begin
housekeeping upon, and he sets his obstinate head against it, and says
'No!' without more ado! But what do you care about housekeeping and the
like? Much you think of taking a wife! To bury yourself in your
newspapers when you come home from work; to sit up half the night over
your books, and stuff your head full of that new-fangled nonsense which
an honest miner has no need to know anything about; to play the lord
and master among your mates, so that soon we shall not have to ask
the Director, but Herr Ulric Hartmann, what is to be done upon the
works--that is all that pleases you. And when, for once in a way, we
are reminded that, after all, we are nothing more as yet than a Deputy,
then we talk of 'not taking payment,' and throw it back in our
employers' faces. I should think if any one ever really earned money,
it was you that day."
Ulric had listened in silence so far, but at the last few words he
stamped his foot angrily.
"Once for all, I will have nothing to do with the set up there. I have
told them that I want no payment for my 'courageous act,' which they
make such a fuss about, and I'll take none, so there's an end of it."
The Manager's anger flamed out again; he was just beginning a still
sharper remonstrance when Martha interrupted him.
"Let him be, uncle," said she shortly; "he is right."
The old man, quite disconcerted at this unlooked-for interference,
stared at her open-mouthed.
"Oh! he is right, is he?" he repeated grimly. "I might have been sure
you would take his part!"
"Ulric is angry that they should have tried to pay their debt through
the Director, without giving themselves any further trouble about the
matter," continued the girl firmly, "and it was not seemly. If Herr
Berkow had spoken to him himself, and said just one word of thanks ...
But he indeed! he troubles himself about nothing on earth. He always
looks as if he were half asleep, and as if it cost him the most
dreadful effort even to look at one; and when, for a wonder, he is not
really asleep, he lies all day long on a sofa and stares at the
ceiling" ...
"Let the young master alone!" broke in the Manager hastily. "All that
lies at his father's door. From his childhood, Herr Berkow has given
way to all his wishes, and encouraged him in his faults. He used to
tell him constantly how rich he would be one day, and to send away the
tutors and servants if they would not obey the youngster. Later on,
when he grew older, he was only to associate with counts and barons.
Money was handed over to him in heaps, and the madder his way of life
was, the better his father was pleased. How could a young lad like that
keep his own goodness of heart? For a good heart he had, young Arthur,
as to that no one shall say me nay! I ought to know, for I have ridden
him often on my knee--and he had some feeling too. I remember well when
he had to go away to town after his mother's death, how he clung to me
and cried bitterly, so that they could not get him away, though Herr
Berkow was begging, and coaxing, and promising him everything in the
world. I had to carry him to the carriage myself. No doubt, when he had
been in the city a while with all those _bonnes_ and masters, it was
different; next time he just gave me his hand, and since then he has
always grown prouder and cooler, until now"----an expression of pain
passed over the old man's face, but he shook off the weakness quickly,
and went on. "Well! it does not matter much to me, but I do not like to
hear you rail at him, whenever you get a chance, especially Ulric, who
has a downright hatred to him. If that obstinate fellow had had as much
of his own way, and some thousands to spend into the bargain, I should
like to know what he would have grown into! Nothing good, that is
certain."
"Perhaps something worse, father," said Ulric, curtly, "but he would
not have grown into a milksop like that, you may take my word for it."
The conversation, which again seemed taking a critical turn, was now
fortunately brought to an end. There came a knock at the door, and a
servant, in the rich and somewhat over-decorated livery of the Berkow
family, entered without waiting for an invitation, and greeted the
Manager with a "Good-day."
"Her ladyship sent me over. I am to tell your Ulric--oh! there you are,
Hartmann! Her ladyship wishes to speak to you; I am to say she will
expect you over there at seven o'clock sharp."
"Me?"
"Ulric?"
These two exclamations were uttered by the old man and his son, in a
tone of equal surprise; as to Martha, she stood looking at the man in
blank astonishment. He continued equably:
"There must have been something up between you and the Director,
Hartmann. He was with her ladyship quite early to-day, though, in a
usual way, she does not trouble herself about the gentlemen's business
matters, and I was sent off to you at full speed. There is plenty to do
up at the house, I assure you; all the gentlemen from the works are
invited to dinner, and there are all sorts of grandees coming out from
the town too.... But I have not a moment's time. Be punctual, seven
o'clock, just after dinner."
The man seemed really in a hurry; he nodded shortly, by way of adieu to
all present, and went.
"There!" burst forth the Manager. "They know already of your ridiculous
refusal up there. Now look to yourself to find a way of settling the
business."
"Shall you go, Ulric?" quickly and eagerly asked Martha, who had
remained silent so far.
"What are you thinking of, child?" scolded her uncle. "Do you suppose
he can say no again, when the mistress sends expressly for him. But you
and he would both be capable of it, really!"
Martha did not attend to this speech. She drew nearer her cousin, and
laid her hand on his arm.
"Shall you go?" she repeated in a low tone.
Ulric stood looking darkly at the ground, as though a struggle were
going on within him. Presently he threw back his head hastily.
"Certainly I shall. I should be glad to know what her ladyship can be
pleased to want with me now, after passing a whole week without once
taking the trouble to inquire"----
He stopped short, as if he felt he had said too much. Martha's hand
slid from his arm, and she stepped back, but the Manager said with a
sigh,
"Well, Heaven save us, if you go behaving in that way up yonder! To
make things worse, old Berkow came down yesterday evening. If you two
get together, your time here as Deputy is over, and mine as Manager
will not be long. I know the master well!"
A contemptuous expression played about the young man's lips.
"Make your mind easy, father. They know how fond you are of the
'family,' and what trouble your unnatural son causes you. He won't even
bow down to his betters! No one will quarrel with you, and I"----here
Ulric drew himself up to his full height, in defiant self-assertion, "I
shall stay on here for a time, at least. They dare not send me away,
they are far too much afraid of me."
He turned his back on his father, pushed open the door, and walked out.
The Manager clapped his hands together, and was about to send another
thundering reproof after his rebellious son, but Martha stopped him, by
again, and still more decidedly this time, taking Ulric's part. Tired
of the strife at last, the old man caught hold of his pipe, and
prepared to go out likewise.
"Hark ye, Martha," said he, turning round in the doorway. "I can see
this by you. There is no rebel living but can be over-matched. You have
found your master in Ulric, and he will find his, too, as sure as my
name is Gotthold Hartmann!"