Summer had come again. Once more mountains and valleys lay bathed in
sunshine and verdant with beauty, and down in the Berkow settlement
there was busy life and movement as in the old days, only freer and
more cheerful than it had ever been before. There was an atmosphere of
liberty and happy contentedness about the works now; extensive as ever,
they had gained all that had previously been wanting, but this had not
come about in weeks or even in months. Years had been needed, and those
following the catastrophe had not been years of ease. When work had
been resumed, a heavy load still rested on the young master's
shoulders. He had, it is true, made peace with his people, but he stood
on the brink of ruin. The crisis was past, the moment of danger when
personal courage and personal sacrifices could suffice to restrain the
excesses of a rebellious multitude; but now came a time harder to bear,
a time of constant arduous toil, of struggling, often desperate,
against the force of circumstances by which Arthur was well nigh
crushed. But in the first trial he had learnt to test his strength, in
the second he knew how to use it.
For more than a year it remained doubtful whether the works could be
kept on under their then owner, and even when this critical period had
been tided over, there were still dangers and losses enough to be
faced. Even during the last years of the elder Berkow's lifetime the
position had been seriously shaken, the fortune impaired by his wild
speculation, his lavish expenditure, and, above all, by that
unscrupulous system of working which only aimed at great and immediate
profits and eventually recoiled on the employer himself.
Then came the interruption of all business, which had lasted nearly a
month, the accident in the shafts, requiring most important repairs;
all this combined threatened completely to overwhelm a situation
already greatly imperilled. More than once it seemed impossible the
works could be preserved, more than once it seemed as though the memory
of past wounds, caused by harsh treatment and by the late open strife,
rankled too deeply ever to be allayed; but Arthur's character, aroused
so late, steeled itself and grew to fuller development in this school
of incessant and strenuous activity.
All the foundations were shaken and the edifice tottering to its fall
when, years before, Arthur had undertaken the difficult task of
bringing order out of the chaos of debts, engagements and claims upon
him, which had to be met first of all, and of establishing a perfectly
new system. But he had learnt confidence in himself; his wife was at
his side, and on his exertions depended Eugenie's future prosperity and
his own. That thought gave him courage to withstand, where any other
would have yielded in despair; supported him even in moments when the
task seemed beyond his strength, and obtained for him the victory at
last. Now every lingering ill effect of the catastrophe had been
overcome; the name of Berkow, stripped of all the evil which had
attached to it, had won back for itself the old luck, and stood pure
and honourable before the world.
The works, more extensive and on a greater scale than ever, were
prosperous and safely established as they had never been before, and
their owner's wealth now rested on a strong and sure basis. This
wealth, which at one time had threatened to be, and nearly became,
fatal to the young heir, accustomed to treat the gifts of fortune with
contemptuous indifference because they lay ready at his feet, grew
precious in his eyes now that he had reconquered it by the striving of
years, and that in his hands it had become a blessing to so many.
It was getting towards noon as the Director and the chief-engineer
walked home together on their way from the works. They had both grown
older in the course of years, but, in other respects, they were
unchanged. The one was good-natured, the other sardonic as ever; there
was the old malicious ring in the latter's voice as he went on with his
conversation.
"Baron von Windeg's eldest son has announced his father's intention of
paying us another visit again already. It appears that our relationship
may be boasted of now, though it was condescended to at first with so
much repugnance. Since the government has accorded us such flattering
attention and, even in higher quarters, interest has been shown in our
organisation and the industry of the place, the works have become
'presentable at court' in the old aristocrat's opinion. His son-in-law
has been so a long time, and I rather think we are at least on a level
with the Windegs now. All the grandeur of the Rabenau property does not
amount to half the value of the Berkow estates, or give its owner a
tithe of our influence. The Baron is beginning to find out that with
all his possessions he is lost in the crowd of wealthy men, while we
have grown to be a power in the province and are recognised as such by
every one."
"Greater progress has been made here than elsewhere," said the
Director. "All around they are studying our improvements and our
system, but as yet no one has imitated us."
"Yes, if we go on like this, we shall reach the 'philanthropic model
establishment' which the late Herr Berkow used to protest against so
vigorously. Well, thank God,"--the chief-engineer raised his head with
self-satisfaction--"we can afford it. We are in a position to expend
sums for our people's benefit which other folk would have to stow away
carefully in their pockets, and certainly the sums are not small. Yet
it is not so very long since we were fighting, not for influence or
fortune, but for the existence of the works, and we should not have
succeeded in saving that but for a few lucky chances which came to us
just in the nick of time."
"Or but for the admirable way in which out people behaved," added the
Director. "It was no trifle for them to remain quiet while agitation
and a regular ferment were going on all around them. The accident in
the mine cost money enough just at a time when every hundred was hard
to spare, but I think Herr Berkow did not pay too dearly for what he
gained with his people. They had not forgotten the hours of suspense
and danger he shared with them down below, and they will not forget
them. Such a thing as that binds men together for a lifetime. Ever
since that time they have trusted him, and when he gave them his word
that he would set matters straight if they would only give him a little
breathing time, they waited loyally, so it is no wonder if he does more
than he promised."
"Well, so far as I am concerned, he can indulge himself in the luxury
for the future," said his colleague. "Besides, it is satisfactory to
see that, under given conditions, philanthropy may be compatible with a
good business. Our yearly balance is more considerable than under the
old regime, which, certainly, could not be accused of undue tenderness;
all was squeezed out of the works then that was there to squeeze."
"You are an incorrigible joker!" said the Director, "no one knows
better than you do that Herr Berkow is guided by no such
considerations."
"No, he is too much of an idealist for that," returned the
chief-engineer, accepting the reproach with great equanimity. "Luckily,
he can be practical at the same time, and he has been through too hard
a school not to know that to be practical is the first condition of
success in such a case as ours. I have not much opinion of the ideal
myself, as you know."
The other smiled rather slily. "Yes, we all know that, but you will
modify your thinking, won't you, when you get such a purely imaginative
element in your family as Herr Wilberg. The time is drawing near, is it
not?"
This little thrust of the Director's seemed to have told, for his
colleague made a wry face, and replied angrily:
"Don't talk to me about it, I hear enough of it at home. To think that
such a thing should happen to me! to me who hate nothing so much as
your sentimental romantic nonsense. To think that fate should have
reserved for me, of all people, a son-in-law who writes verses and
plays the guitar. There is no getting rid of the fellow with his sighs
and his love-making, and Melanie will not listen to reason. But I have
not given my consent yet, and I am not at all sure that I shall."
"Well, we will leave that to Fraeulein Melanie," said the Director
laughing. "She has got a bit of her father in her, she knows how to
have her own way. I can assure you that Wilberg goes about with the
mien of a conqueror, and answers all congratulations with the words,
'No, not yet!' in a way which is exceedingly eloquent. The two young
people must be pretty sure of their affair. Good-bye. Mind, I am to be
told first of the happy event."
This time it was the Director's turn to be mischievous, and not without
result, for the chief-engineer looked greatly put out as he went up the
steps to his house.
Fraeulein Melanie came out to meet him, and was unusually tender in her
attentions. She gave him a kiss, took his hat and gloves, coaxed him a
little, and, after these preliminaries, considered that the time had
now come to proffer a petition.
"Papa, there is somebody here who wants to speak to you at once, and on
important business. He is in there with mamma, may I bring him to you?"
"I can't be spoken to now," growled her father, guessing what was
before him, but the young lady took not the smallest notice of the
refusal. She disappeared into the next room, and next minute pushed out
the somebody who was there, whispering at the same time a few
encouraging words in his ear.
They appeared to be much wanted, for Herr Wilberg, his hair carefully
parted, dressed in a frockcoat and presenting the general appearance of
an official suitor, stood rooted to the spot, as though he had fallen
unawares into a lion's den. He had prepared a neat little speech for
the important occasion, but his superior's grim looks and very
forbidding manner as he inquired "What he wanted?" were altogether
disconcerting to him.
"My hopes and wishes"--stammered the lover, "encouraged by Fraeulein
Melanie's favour--the bliss of calling her my own."
"I thought as much! The fellow can't even make his offer in a rational
manner!" grumbled the chief-engineer, not reflecting that his reception
was of a nature to discompose any suitor; as the young man stumbled on,
getting more and more confused in his speech, he cut him short.
"Well, there, that's enough. What you hope and desire can be no secret
from me now. You want to have me for your father-in-law?"
Wilberg looked as if this additional blessing, so inseparable from his
future marriage, did not afford him any special delight. "I beg your
pardon, sir, what I want is to have Fraeulein Melanie for my wife," he
replied shyly.
"Oh! and you will reluctantly take me into the bargain?" asked the
irritated father-in-law _in spe_. "I really don't know how you dare
come to me with such a proposal. Have you not been in love with Lady
Eugenie Berkow? Have you not filled reams of paper with verses
addressed to her? Why don't you go on still with your platonic
affection?"
"Oh, that was years ago!" pleaded the lover in his defence. "Melanie
has known that for a long time, indeed that was the very thing which
brought us together. There are two sorts of love, sir: the romance of
youth, which seeks its ideal in a higher sphere far removed and beyond
its reach, and another more durable affection, which finds its
happiness on earth."
"Oh! and for this second matter-of-fact sort of sentiment my daughter
is good enough? Deuce take you!" cried the chief-engineer, furious.
"You will not understand me," said Wilberg, deeply hurt, but still with
some consciousness of the advantage of his position; he knew what a
powerful reserve he had in the next room. "Melanie understands me, she
has given me her hand and heart"----
"Well, this is a very pretty business," growled the exasperated
parent. "If daughters can bestow their hands and hearts in this manner
without more ado, I should like to know what fathers are here for!
Wilberg,"--here his face and manner became somewhat milder--"Wilberg, I
must do you the justice to say that you have become more rational
during the last few years, but you are far from being rational enough.
You have not left off versifying for one thing. I would wager you have
got some sonnets about you now."
He glanced suspiciously at the young man's frock-coat. Wilberg reddened
a little.
"As an affianced husband I should be quite justified in writing them?"
said be, with a sort of timid enquiry.
"Yes, and in giving serenades! We shall have a nice time of it this
summer," groaned the chief-engineer, in despair. "Look you, Wilberg, if
I did not know that Melanie has got something of her father in her, and
that she will soon drive out all your romantic nonsense out of your
head, I would say no, once for all. But it seems to me you want a
sensible wife, and more particularly a sensible father-in-law who will
give you good advice from time to time, and as it appears it can't be
helped--well, you shall have both!"
Whether the last-named advantage appeared as great in Herr Wilberg's
eyes must remain undecided; in delight at obtaining the first he forgot
everything else, and rushed up to embrace his new father-in-law, who
made short work of the ceremony.
"There, don't let us have a scene," said he decidedly. "I can't stand
it, and we have not time for it now. Come along to Melanie. You two
have plotted the whole matter together behind my back, but I tell you,
if ever I find you at your verse-making and my girl unhappy and with
red eyes, may the Lord help you!"
While the chief-engineer thus resigned himself to an inevitable fate,
Arthur Berkow and Conrad von Windeg were standing together on the
terrace before the chateau, waiting for the latter's horse to be
brought round.
The thorough metamorphosis which Arthur's inner man had undergone was
partly discernible in his outward appearance. He was no longer the
slender pale young dandy, the strength and bloom of whose youth had
nearly been destroyed by the life of the great city, but was now in all
respects such as one would picture the head and administrator of so
vast an undertaking. The lines, which long ago had been graven on his
brow, and which years of care and hard work had furrowed there more
deeply, could not be effaced by the present prosperous security. Such
marks, once made, do not again disappear, but they did not ill become
the manliness of his features.
Conrad was still the high-spirited young officer whose bright eyes and
rosy lips had lost none of their gaiety and freshness, and for whom
life was enjoyable and charming as ever.
"And I tell you, Arthur," he was asserting vehemently, "you do my
father injustice if you suppose he still feels any prejudice against
you. I wish you could have heard how he answered old Prince Waldstein
when he said that the gentlemen up in the hill-districts could not have
a very enviable time of it in the present troubled state of the
working-classes.
"'That does not apply to my son-in-law, your Highness,' said my father
with great aplomb. 'His position is too well assured and the authority
he possesses over his people too complete for that; they are quite
enthusiastic in their devotion to him, and, besides, my son-in-law is
equal to any emergency.' But he has never forgiven you yet for refusing
that peerage; he can't forget that his grandson will be only plain
Berkow."
Arthur smiled rather ironically.
"Well, I trust the name will be no disgrace to him when he has to bear
it before the world, and it is to be hoped your father may live long
enough to see a Windeg at his side. How about your engagement, Conrad?"
The young officer drew a wry face. "Well, it will be coming off soon,"
he replied, rather slowly, "when we go back to Rabenau, probably. Count
Berning's estates join ours and the Countess Alma was eighteen last
spring. My father is of opinion that, as heir to the family, it is time
I should be seriously thinking of getting married. I am under orders to
make a declaration to the Countess this summer."
"Orders!" said Arthur, laughing. "You are going to marry by order?"
"Well, what did you do?" asked Conrad, rather piqued.
"Indeed yes, you are right But ours was an exceptional case."
"Mine is not," returned Conrad indifferently. "The thing is generally
managed so in our set. My father will have it that I shall marry early
and suitably, and he will stand no contradiction, except perhaps from
you. You have impressed him so deeply that he will put up with
absolutely anything it may please you to say or do. After all, I have
nothing particular to urge against the marriage, except that I should
have liked to be free a little longer."
Berkow shook his head. "I think, Con, you will do well to carry out
your father's plan in this. So far as I could see during our last visit
to Rabenau, Alma Berning is a charming girl, and it really is time for
you to show more of the future peer and less of the wild lieutenant in
your proceedings. He has got himself into some pretty scrapes, my young
lieutenant!"
Conrad tossed his head.
"Yes, and on each occasion he has had to listen to a paternal lecture
in which his brother-in-law has been held up as a pattern and extolled
to the skies. I declare it has needed all my predilection for the model
to keep me from detesting you! In fact, the whole marriage project
dates from that. In one of these judicial encounters, I made the
mistake of saying 'Arthur did much worse in his time; it is only since
he has been married that he has become so remarkable for his
excellence,' and then it immediately occurred to my father to have me
married too.
"Well, I don't care! I have no objection to make to Alma, and besides I
shall take example by you and Eugenie. You began your wedded life with
the utmost indifference, if not with downright aversion, to one
another, and you have ended by turning it into a perfect romance which
has not spun itself out yet. Perhaps it will be the same with us."
A very sceptical smile played round Arthur's lips.
"I doubt it, my dear Con; you hardly seem to me to be cut out for a
romance, and remember, every woman is not a Eugenie."
The young Baron laughed out loud.
"I declare, I thought something of that sort would come out. Just the
same tone in which Eugenie said to me this morning, when we were
talking of this: 'You cannot think of placing Arthur on a level with
other men!' I must say you are stretching out your honeymoon to a good
length."
"We had to do without it at first, and one is generally inclined to
take double of a thing one has waited for. So you really cannot stay?"
"No, my leave is out this evening. I came over principally to tell you
my father and brothers would soon be here. Good-bye for the present,
Arthur."
His horse having been brought round while they were talking, he swung
himself into the saddle, waved an adieu to his brother-in-law and
galloped off. Arthur was about to return to the house, when an old
miner appeared on the terrace and took off his hat to the master.
"Ah, Manager Hartmann!" said Berkow in a friendly tone. "Were you
coming to me?"
The Manager came up with a respectful, but at the same time
confidential, manner.
"Yes, if you will excuse it, Herr Berkow. I was out there yonder giving
the orders, and I saw you come out with the young Baron. I thought I
should like to thank you at once for having appointed Lawrence to be
Deputy. It has brought great gladness to our house."
"Lawrence has shown himself so clever and capable during the last
few years, he deserved the post, and he may want it with his
ever-increasing family."
"Well, he has enough for his wife and children, I take care of that,"
replied the Manager good-naturedly. "It was a right good thought of
Martha's to make it a condition that he should come and live in my
house. I am not left quite alone in my old age so, and I can take some
pleasure in their children. I have nothing else left me in all the
world."
"Cannot you get over the old grief yet, Hartmann?"
The Manager shook his head.
"I cannot, Herr Berkow. He was my only son, and though he oftener gave
me pain than joy, though at last he had got far beyond all control
of mine with his wild ways, still I cannot forget my Ulric. Ah,
well-a-day! why was an old man like me saved just for that? With him
everything went down into the grave for me."
The old man wiped the bitter tears from his eyes as he took the hand
Berkow held out to him in silent sympathy, and then went quietly away,
Eugenie had been standing in the doorway during the last few minutes;
she had paused there, not wishing to disturb the conversation. Now she
came up to her husband.
"Cannot Hartmann feel resigned even yet?" she asked in a low voice. "I
never thought he cared so deeply, so passionately, for his son."
"I can understand it," he said gravely, "as I could understand formerly
the blind attachment of his comrades. There was something about that
man which exercised a most powerful influence on all around him. If I
felt this, I who was fighting for my life against him, how much more
they for whom he fought! What might that Ulric not have achieved for
him and his, if he had had a truer notion of the task before him, and
had taken it up in another spirit than that of hatred, bent only on
overturning all existing things."
His wife looked up at him half reproachfully.
"He showed us that he was capable of something better than hate. He was
your enemy, but when it came to be a question of saving one of you, he
snatched you from the danger and freely encountered death himself."
At the remembrance of that time a shade fell on Arthur's face.
"I, of all men, have least the right to bring accusations against him,
and I never have done so since his hand rescued me from destruction.
But believe me, Eugenie, a complete reconciliation would never have
been possible with such a nature as his. He would always have been an
element of danger, disturbing the peace between me and the people, and
striving with me for the dominion over them. Things had gone so far, he
could not have been allowed to go quite unpunished. If I had not
accused and passed judgment on him, others would have done so. All that
has been spared both him and us."
Eugenie leaned her head on her husband's shoulder. It was the same fair
beautiful head, with the dark, dark eyes, but her face was fresher and
rosier than of old. The former paleness and marble stillness had given
way to that expression which happiness alone can bring.
"That was a bad time, Arthur, which came after the catastrophe," said
she with a slight tremor in her voice. "You had hard work to fight
through, so hard that at times my courage nearly failed me when I saw
the cloud growing darker and darker on your brow, your eyes more and
more troubled, and I could do nothing but just stay at your side!"
He bent over her with infinite tenderness.
"And was not that enough? in that long struggle I learned all the power
of those two words which brace a man to exertion and make it sweet. I
used to repeat them whenever the waves threatened to close over me, and
they helped me to success at last: my wife and my child."
The sun stood high in the heavens, shining down brightly from the clear
summer sky and pouring its rays on the chateau with its gardens and
flowery terraces; on the works out yonder, teeming with life and
manifold movement, which made it seem not a small thing to be ruler
over such a world; on the mountains ranged around, forest-crowns on
their lofty heads, and within, hiding far below in their depths, a
mysterious busy kingdom of their own. This sombre region, which the
great rocky arms would fain have shut for ever from mortal eye, has
yielded to the might of man's mighty intellect, and opened to admit
those forces which press ever onwards, pioneering their way despite of
clefts and precipices. So the earth has been robbed of the treasures
she held imprisoned in endless night, and they are borne up to the
light of day, freed by the magic of human skill and industry.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 1: The expression used in the original has no equivalent in
English. "Gluck auf!" the traditional greeting among miners, conveys to
the person addressed a wish not only for his luck, but for his safety.
It forms the title of the German story.]
THE END.
_Printed by_ R. & R. Clark, _Edinburgh_.