CHAPTER XVIII.

The arrival of the guests up at the chateau had brought some animation

to that divided household, but it had hardly drawn the young couple

more closely together. Although the visitors' stay was limited to a few

days, Arthur continually found pretexts and opportunities for

withdrawing from their society, an attention for which his father and

brother-in-law were both sincerely grateful.

The Baron was but now returning after a sojourn of several weeks on the

Rabenau property, his own from this time forth. Notwithstanding the

frightful catastrophe which had occurred on the occasion of his first

visit, he had been forced to leave his daughter on the following

morning, a nearer duty calling him to his cousin's grave. Even when the

last offices were over, there remained much to be set in order, and the

heir's presence had been indispensable.

He was now returning in company of his eldest son, whom he had sent for

to join him, and, this time also, they made the short detour round by

the Berkow estates, all the more readily that the young Baron Conrad

had not seen his sister since her marriage.

More was intended by this visit than a mere family meeting, or so it

appeared from a conversation which took place in Eugenie's boudoir on

the day after their arrival, Arthur being absent as usual. His wife sat

on the sofa listening to her father, who was standing before her, and

just winding up a long peroration, while Conrad, leaning against a

chair at a little distance from them, watched his sister with a look of

eager expectation.

Eugenie sat resting her head on her hand so as to shade her face. When

her father ceased speaking, she did not alter her position or look up,

but replied in a low voice:

"No hints or allusions are needed for me to understand what you mean,

papa. You are speaking of a separation."

"Yes, my dear," said the Baron, earnestly, "to a separation, no matter

under what pretext, or at what cost. What is obtained by force must be

kept by force, the Berkows should have remembered that. Now that I am

once more master of my own actions, that I need be their debtor no

longer, I will employ every means to free you from those chains which

you took upon yourself solely on my account, and which, deny it as you

may, are making you wretched in the extreme."

Eugenie did not answer. Her father took her hand and sat down by her.

"The thought is new to you and takes you by surprise? It flashed upon

me directly I received the weighty news which brought about such an

unexpected change in our circumstances. At that time it would have been

difficult to realise it. The elder Berkow had left nothing undone to

secure an alliance with our family. It was out of the question that he

should consent to a dissolution of the marriage, for that would have

shut him out from those circles to which he hoped to gain access

through us; and with such a man as he, capable of anything in his utter

unscrupulousness, we could not well proceed to open fight. His death

put an end to all the difficulties at a blow, for his son's resistance

can be got over. He has played a merely passive role throughout the

business, and simply lent himself to be his father's tool. He will

yield, I hope, to energetic action on our part."

"He will yield," affirmed Eugenie under her breath. "Have no fear on

that score."

"So much the better!" replied Windeg. "We shall attain our end the more

speedily."

He was, it seemed, desirous of pushing forward to that end without loss

of time, and such was indeed the fact. To the poor nobleman, heavily

laden with debt, there had been no choice left but to accept Eugenie's

sacrifice, and so save his own and his sons' name and position;

whatever it may have cost him, he bent to a hard necessity, and the

very necessity of the case taught him how to bear it.

But, to the Lord of Rabenau, who had regained complete independence,

and with it all his old sense of dignity, who could pay back with ease

the sums he had received, this bond of restraint appeared a burning

disgrace, and he looked upon his daughter's marriage as an act of

injustice committed to her prejudice, and which he must repair at any

cost. During his stay at Rabenau this thought had haunted him, and had

gradually shaped itself into a plan which was now ripe for execution.

"It will certainly meet both your wishes and ours that this painful

affair should be entered into and settled as quickly as possible," he

continued. "I was going to propose that you should accompany us to the

city under some pretext or other, and, when there, take the necessary

steps to accomplish it. You need simply refuse to return to your

husband, and insist upon a separation. We will take care that he does

not make good his claims by force."

"Yes, by Jove, that we will, Eugenie!" broke in Conrad passionately.

"If he should find he has made a bargain to his liking, and refuse to

give it up, your brothers will compel him to yield at the point of the

sword. He cannot threaten us now with shame and public humiliation as

his father did. That was the only thing the Windegs feared, the only

argument by which a daughter of their house could ever have been won

from them."

His sister stopped him almost impatiently.

"There is no occasion for threats. Con, and none for your anxiety,

papa. Both are equally uncalled for. That which you expect to have to

fight for and win by force has long been a settled thing between Arthur

and myself."

Windeg started up, and Conrad came a step nearer impetuously in his

surprise.

Eugenie strove to give firmness to her voice, but she could not

succeed; it quivered audibly as she went on:

"Before Herr Berkow's death we had come to an agreement about it, but

we wished to avoid the eclat of too early and sudden a rupture, and so

we imposed on ourselves the restraint of living for a time under the

same roof."

"Before Berkow's death?" interrupted her brother. "Why, that was soon

after you were married!"

"So you introduced the subject yourself?" said the Baron with equal

animation. "Did you insist upon it?"

They neither of them seemed to understand the pain which was so plainly

written on the young wife's face. She called up all her self-command

and answered steadily.

"I never alluded to the matter. Arthur voluntarily offered me a

separation."

The Baron and his son looked at one another, as though such a piece of

intelligence overstepped their powers of comprehension.

"Indeed! I was not prepared for that," said the Baron, at last, slowly.

"He himself! I should not have expected it!"

"No matter," cried Conrad with a sudden burst of tenderness, "no

matter, so long as he gives you back to us, Eugenie. We have none of us

been able to take any pleasure in the inheritance which has come to us,

because we knew that you have been made unhappy for our sakes. My

father will not be fairly at ease in the new life until you come back,

no more will any of us. We have missed you so in everything."

He threw his arm round his sister, and she hid her face for a few

seconds on his shoulder. It was as deadly white and cold in its beauty

as it had been when she stood before the altar; yet now she was on the

eve of returning to her father's house, from which she had that day

been torn away.

The Baron looked at his daughter in some surprise, as she now raised

her head and passed her handkerchief over her brow.

"Excuse me, papa, if I seem rather strange to-day. I am not quite well,

not well enough, that is, to discuss this subject. You must let me go

to my room, I"----

"You have had too much to bear of late," said her father tenderly. "I

see it, my dear, even though you will not confess it. Go, and leave all

to my care. I will spare you as much as possible."

"It is odd though, is it not, sir?" said the young Baron, as the door

closed behind his sister. "Do you understand this Berkow? I don't."

Windeg paced up and down the room with a frown on his brow. He was not

merely surprised, but wounded in his pride by this disclosure. To the

aristocrat it had seemed quite explicable that a parvenu owning

millions of money should employ all the means at his disposal,

hesitating neither at intrigue nor sacrifice, to obtain a connection

with himself, even though such endeavours were met with unbounded

hatred and contempt. But that his plebeian son-in-law should have

received the hand of a Baroness Windeg with perfect equanimity, as if

there had been nothing extraordinary in such a marriage; that, as time

went on, he should have shown himself as insensible to the honour done

him as his father was the reverse;--these were things he never could

forgive. And now this man, this Arthur Berkow, retired from the

connection of his own free will, before any inducement to do so had

been held out to him. This was too much for the haughty Windeg. He had

been eager to struggle for, to re-conquer, his daughter's freedom, but

that he should owe it to her husband's generosity or indifference was

intolerable to him.

"I will speak to Berkow," he said presently, "and if he really does

agree, which I doubt, in spite of what Eugenie has told us, we must set

to work without delay."

"Without delay?" asked Conrad. "They have hardly been married three

months, and I think they are right in wishing to avoid too early a

rupture."

"No doubt they are, and I should give my complete approval, if I had

not other reasons of my own for hurrying on the affair. Things are not

as they should be here on the works. I have received a hint from a

friendly source that these disturbances, which have broken out among

the hands employed, may inflict a deadly injury upon the Berkow

property, enormous as it is supposed to be. If a crash should come, his

wife could hardly leave him at such a moment; for the sake of public

opinion she must stay on. Though we have deeper and far more serious

reasons for desiring a separation, his ruin would be looked upon as the

real cause, and that must not be. Better we should be thought to stir

in the matter prematurely than suffer our hands to be tied, as they

would be, should a catastrophe occur. A vast undertaking like this does

not fall to pieces in a few weeks. It would take a year at least, and

in half that time a divorce may be obtained, if he puts no difficulties

in the way. Eugenie must return to our house, must be free again,

before the state of things here gets known in the city."

"I should have thought my sister would have taken up the idea more

cheerfully and with greater zest," said Conrad meditatively. "To be

sure, if they had settled the matter before between themselves, there

was nothing in it new to her, but she seems as quiet and silent about

it, as if it were no concern of hers, as if her liberty did not depend

upon it."

The Baron shrugged his shoulders.

"She does not like the thought of the unavoidable talk it will excite,

of all the unpleasant details of the law-suit which cannot be spared

her. It is always a painful step for a woman to take, and yet it must

be taken. In this case we shall, at any rate, have the whole city on

our side. It was unfortunately no secret why this marriage was

arranged, and but little surprise can be felt that we should hasten to

dissolve it."

"Here comes Berkow," whispered Conrad, as the door of the adjoining

room was opened. "You wish to speak to him. Shall I leave you

together?"

Windeg shook his head.

"You are the eldest son of our house, and at such discussions the

presence of a third person often acts as a wholesome restraint. Stay

here, Conrad."

While these words were being quickly exchanged in a low voice, Arthur

had crossed the ante-room. He came in now, and the greetings on either

side were polite and frigid as usual. The conversation began with the

customary flowers of rhetoric. The guests regretted they should enjoy

so little of their host's company, the latter put forth as an excuse

the accumulation of business which deprived him of the pleasure, etc.,

mutual formalities believed in by neither party, but behind which each

sheltered himself as affording, at least, some subject matter for talk.

"I hope Eugenie's constant company will make up to you for my enforced

absence," continued Arthur, glancing through the salon as though in

quest of his wife.

"Eugenie is slightly indisposed; she has just left us," returned the

Baron, "and I should be glad to make use of this opportunity to express

to you a wish of mine, the fulfilment of which depends mainly on

yourself."

"If its fulfilment depends on me, you have but to command."

The young man took up a position opposite his father-in-law, while

Conrad, who knew what was coming, withdrew, as though accidentally,

into a window recess, and appeared to be steadfastly gazing out on the

terrace below.

Windeg's bearing was full of stately calm and aristocratic dignity. He

desired to be as impressive as possible, and so do away at once with

any possible resistance on the part of his daughter's plebeian husband;

for he looked upon Arthur's offer of a separation, at the most, as a

hasty speech made in a moment of passion. He could not believe it to be

serious.

"People seem to attach a greater degree of importance to this

revolutionary movement on your estates than it probably has in

reality," he began. "As I came by the town yesterday and paid a visit

to the commandant of the garrison there, a very old friend of mine, the

feeling among the hands over here was described to me as most

dangerous, and an outbreak of disturbances was said to be extremely

probable."

"They appear to take more interest in my works and in my people than I

had supposed," said Arthur, coldly. "I have, at all events, not

besought the Colonel for help in case of need."

The Baron understood the hint.

"As for me, of course, I can form no opinion on the subject," he

replied quickly. "I only wished to draw your attention to the fact that

there would be impropriety in exposing Eugenie to any such possible

scenes of disorder. It is my desire to take my daughter with me to the

city, just for a time, until the situation here has cleared a little."

A shade fell on the young man's face. Again he cast a quick glance over

to the door which led to his wife's apartments, as though trying to

divine whether the wish came from her. His reply was quite calm,

however.

"Eugenie is mistress of her own actions. If she considers it necessary

to leave she is perfectly at liberty to do so."

Windeg, highly pleased, bent his head affirmatively.

"She will accompany us then to-morrow morning. As to the length of her

absence, there we approach a subject which is equally painful to us

both, but I prefer to touch upon it by word of mouth, particularly as I

know our wishes to be identical with regard to the main point at

issue."

Arthur seemed about to start from his chair, but he controlled himself

and kept his seat.

"Oh! so Eugenie has already been making communications to you?"

"Yes, does that surprise you? Her father would, of course, be the first

person in whom she would confide."

Arthur's lips twitched nervously.

"I supposed that the matter would remain between ourselves until the

time for action had arrived. I see I was wrong."

"Why postpone things when once a decision has been come to?" asked the

Baron quietly. "The present time is most favourable for carrying it

into execution. The existing state of affairs here affords the best,

the most unexceptional pretext for my daughter's leaving. It need not

be known at first that she is leaving definitively. In these summer

months, when every one is away from the city, the preliminary steps can

be taken with least notice. When an eclat cannot be avoided, it is

preferable to give people at once an actual event to talk about. In

that way gossip is soonest exhausted."

A long pause followed. Arthur looked again, this time with rather an

enigmatical expression, at the door of his wife's apartments; then he

turned slowly to her father.

"Did the wish that this affair should be hurried on come from Eugenie

herself?"

The Baron thought proper to withhold the truth on this occasion. By so

doing, he would attain his end more quickly, and Eugenie would

certainly be grateful to him for it.

"I speak in my daughter's name," he declared gravely.

Arthur rose suddenly, and so hastily that his chair was thrown to the

ground.

"I consent to everything, Baron, to everything! I thought I had

explained to your daughter my reasons in favour of a delay. They were

entirely dictated by consideration for herself, and did not concern me

in any way. If, notwithstanding these, she still desires to hasten on

the matter--be it so!"

The tone in which these words were spoken was so peculiar, that Conrad,

who had all along been apparently intent on the terrace below,

although, in reality, he had not lost a word of the discussion, turned

round suddenly and looked at his brother-in-law in astonishment.

Windeg himself felt surprised. What reason was there for any show of

temper? He simply wished that a tie, burdensome to both parties, should

be loosed a little earlier than had been intended.

"You fully agree to a separation then?" he asked, a little uncertain.

"Fully."

The Baron breathed freely. So Eugenie had been right in declaring that

her husband would consent at once. What remained to be settled would,

he thought, hardly present a difficulty.

"I am very much indebted to you for meeting me thus," said he politely.

"It will facilitate matters for both sides. There is one other thing

which I must mention, though it has no bearing upon the subject in

hand. Your father"--the present Lord of Rabenau flushed crimson at the

remembrance--"your father was good enough to take up certain

obligations of mine which I was not then in a position to discharge. I

am able to do so now, and I should wish as speedily as possible"----

He paused, for Arthur had turned his eyes full upon him with a look

which forbade him to go on.

"Had we not better let this subject rest? I really must beg that it may

not be touched upon."

"It might be allowed to rest so long as our mutual relations

subsisted," returned Windeg gravely, "but not when they cease to exist.

You will not oblige me to remain your debtor?"

"There was no question here of a debt in the ordinary sense of the

word. Those obligations, which my father agreed to meet were, in

reality, held by himself alone. The documents relating to the

transaction were destroyed, so far as I know, when"--here the young

man's extreme irritation broke for an instant through his enforced

calm--"when you paid the price for them."

The Baron rose offended.

"The marriage was concluded at that time, in pursuance, certainly, of

Herr Berkow's wish; it is now about to be dissolved, more particularly

at our desire. The circumstances are completely reversed."

"Is it absolutely necessary that we should keep up the business point

of view and make a bargain of the divorce also?" interrupted Arthur

with cutting sarcasm. "I hope that I and my wife may not be made the

subject of traffic a second time. Once was quite sufficient."

The Baron altogether misunderstood these words, as he also

misunderstood the agitation which prompted them. He answered with his

haughtiest air.

"Remember, if you please, Herr Berkow, that the word traffic, which you

are pleased to employ, can only have reference to one of the parties

concerned. It cannot apply to us."

Arthur stepped back; his attitude was proud and dignified, such as the

nobleman opposite him could but rarely assume.

"I know now how this marriage was brought about, and I know too how

those obligations came to exist which forced you into giving your

consent. You will therefore understand why it is I request that not

another syllable may be said about this debt. I require of you, Baron,

that you do not make a son blush for his father's memory."

Once before Windeg had been disconcerted by his son-in-law's behaviour,

on the occasion when the latter had thought fit to decline the peerage

offered him, but that had been done in a cool, half negligent manner,

and quite in the former Arthur Berkow's style. The present scene and

the way in which he now bore himself fairly petrified the Baron.

Involuntarily he glanced at his son, who had come out of the recess,

and on whose youthful countenance was depicted a boundless astonishment

which he gave himself no trouble to conceal.

"I was not aware you viewed the matter in that light," said Windeg at

last "It was not my intention to wound your feelings."

"I suppose not, so we will let the subject drop into the past. With

regard to the divorce, I will give my solicitor instructions to meet

yours in a friendly spirit, and to render him any assistance in his

power. Should a personal application to myself be necessary at any

time, pray consider me as quite at your disposal I will do all I can to

bring the matter to an end as speedily and with as little

unpleasantness as possible."

He bowed to both gentlemen and left the room. In an instant young

Conrad was at his father's side.

"What can it all mean? What, in the name of goodness, has come over

this Arthur Berkow during the last three months? I thought yesterday

evening he was graver and had a more decided way with him than

formerly, but I never should have imagined he would be capable of

behaving with so much dignity."

The Baron had not yet recovered from his astonishment. His son's

exclamation roused him. "He really appears not to have been aware of

the part his father was acting towards us. That certainly alters the

case," said he in some confusion. "If only he had not required me to

remain in his debt!"

"He does perfectly right," said Conrad, firing up, "now that he knows

by what a system of usury Berkow drove us to our ruin. Not a quarter of

the prodigious sums, afterwards arrayed against us, was ever advanced

or expended by him in buying up those bills, and not a penny can the

son receive if he will not bring dishonour on himself too. One could

see that he was filled with shame at the whole disgraceful story. But

this interview of ours took a very strange turn. The painful, the

humiliating role in it was, unquestionably, his, and yet he managed to

make us feel almost ashamed of our offer."

Windeg seemed disposed to take this last observation rather

ungraciously, perhaps because he could not gainsay it.

"If we were unjust to him before, I am ready now to do him full

justice," said he, "and the more so that we really owe him some thanks

for his conduct with regard to this divorce business. I did not expect

it would be so easy, notwithstanding the indifference he has always

shown about the marriage."

Conrad's face again assumed a meditative expression, which, certainly,

was not proper to it.

"I don't know, sir; it strikes me that the thing is by no means so

settled. Berkow was far from being as calm as he tried to appear, and

it was the same with Eugenie. There was no indifference in that violent

start of his when you declared that she insisted on an immediate

separation, and in Eugenie's face, when she left us, there was still

less. A very odd idea has occurred to me in consequence!"

The Baron smiled with great superiority.

"You are quite a child still in some things. Con, in spite of your

epaulets and your twenty years. Do you imagine that the determination

which, as it now appears, they have both long since come to, could have

arisen without previous quarrels and unpleasantness? Eugenie has

suffered much from these scenes; perhaps Berkow may have suffered also.

What you so sagely remarked was the reverberation of storms gone by,

nothing more. Thank God, there is plain sailing between us now, and the

storms are over for good and all."

"Or perhaps they are only just beginning!" said Conrad to himself under

his breath, as he left the room with his father.

Success and How He Won It · 第 18 / 26 章