An Agonizing Doubt.
The answer which Atkins was about to give, was interrupted by a
knocking at the door. It was opened, and an old man with white hair,
simply but not poorly clad, and with a modest, friendly manner,
entered, and immediately addressed himself in good French to the two
strangers.
"I beg your pardon, but they showed me up here. I am the master joiner
Vogt, Rue de--. A strange gentleman inquired for me yesterday, and left
a card with his address which I understood as a request for me to call
on him. I trust I have come to the right place?"
Atkins naturally understood nothing of these words. But Jane, who was
perfect mistress of French, translated all he needed to hear, and then
turned to the visitor.
"You are quite right, but the gentleman's visit was not to you, it was
to a young man who, they tell us, works with you. He is in any event, a
German, and a journeyman carpenter, Franz Erdmann. We are in search of
him, and were just about visiting you again on his account."
"Is it Franz you seek?" asked, the old man, now in his mother tongue.
"Good heavens! he has been gone six weeks. Immediately after the
declaration of war he went from us back to Germany. He is now in the
Prussian army."
Jane involuntarily grew pale. Another vain effort! But the
disappointment which, after so confident a hope, would have discouraged
any other, only angered her. She compressed her lips and the toe of her
little boot beat the floor. If this experience lent her no words, it
was evident that in her heart she made a new vow to press forward in
spite of all.
Mr. Atkins did not take the tidings so quietly; his vexation found vent
in loud exclamations.
"In the army; I believe this glorious Prussian host embraces all
mankind! Whatever person we enquire after in the course of our
investigations we always receive the stereotyped answer, _In the army!_
I am convinced that if at last we get upon the direct track of this Mr.
Franz, we shall learn that he too, is in the army. If he is in no other
part of Europe, we shall certainly find him there."
The master-joiner understood none of this English, but he heard the
tone of the words, and saw from the expression of the young lady's
face, what an effect his arrival had produced upon both.
"Yes, and this war comes near enough to us also!" he said sadly. "I
miss Franz everywhere, and my poor girl sits weeping her eyes out the
whole day long; they were to be married in the autumn. But there was no
help for it; he belonged to the first levies, and we would not take
upon ourselves the sin of holding him back."
"_Sin!_" growled Atkins, again in his English, and turned to Jane. "Did
you ever hear of such a thing? This fellow sits safe and concealed here
in France, where no man asks after his military duty. He was to marry
here, settle down here, and the prospect was that he would not during
all his life, return to Germany; and scarce does the war break out when
he runs home, leaves bride, wedding, handicraft, all in the lurch, and
hurries off to let himself be shot dead for the beloved Rhine. The
sentiment of duty with these Germans is really a sort of mania."
Jane scarce heard these words; a ray of hope already flashed before her
eyes here, where Atkins had given up all for lost. She turned hastily
again to the master-joiner. "Young Hartman stood in intimate relations
to your family? He was to be your son-in-law? Well, then, perhaps you
and your daughter know something in regard to his past which may be
very important to us. We hope to gain from him some intelligence as to
a family matter, and shall very cheerfully requite any such service."
"As to his family relations, I know them intimately. He has been more
than two years in my house, and he tell in love with my Marie at the
very first," said Vogt unhesitatingly. "Ask on, Mademoiselle, I think I
can give you information."
Atkins drew back. He saw that Jane wished to take the affair into her
own hands, and he resigned it to her the more readily, as he promised
himself no especial result from the pending examination. Indeed no help
was necessary; Miss Forest propounded her questions so clearly, so
confidently and energetically, that the best criminal lawyer could have
done no better.
"Your future son-in-law was born in the little fishing village of M.,
not far from Hamburg?"
Master Vogt nodded.
"After the death of his parents, he came to relatives in P., who
brought him up, and from thence, after his apprenticeship and military
service were ended, he went over to France to perfect himself in the
joiner's art, and for two years, he has lived at N., in your house?"
"Quite right!" returned the master. "It is really our Franz you
describe. All agrees to a hair!"
"Has he never"--Jane's voice again betrayed the excitement she could
with difficulty restrain--"has he never told you of a brother who grew
up with him in M.!"
"That he has indeed! But he was no real brother, only an adopted child
whom his parents had brought with them from Hamburg, and kept, in their
kindness of heart, as no one claimed him."
Jane sent a triumphant glance over to Atkins. In spite of all, she was
on the track. "And this also is known to you? Later the boys were
separated, but the other also found adoption?"
"Yes, with a learned man."
With an almost convulsive movement, Jane lifted her head. "With--a
learned man!" she repeated slowly; "they told us it was a clergyman,
pastor Hartwigs."
"Yes, you are quite right; he was a very learned old gentleman, with
his head always stuck into books; Franz has told us all about him;
later, he gave up his pastorate--he was not poor--just to live for his
learning."
Jane had all at once become pale as death. A lightning ray had flashed
down and rent the darkness which had so long lain over the destiny of
her brother; for a moment it glowed lurid and threatning, then all was
again night; but its upflowing must have shown something terrible to
the sister, for she shuddered before it.
"Are you ill, Miss Jane?" asked Atkins, anxiously, and made a movement
to approach her.
"No!" Jane summoned all her strength, and motioned him back; her breath
came short and violently, and the hand with which she held for support
to the table, trembled as if in a fever.
"And do you know whether that adopted brother is still alive, whether
he stands in any sort of relationship to your son-in-law?"
"Certainly he is alive," said the master-joiner calmly. "And they have
often written to each other. No longer ago than last Easter, Franz had
a letter from him."
"From what place? Where was it dated?" Fearful excitement pulsed
through Jane's voice; her glance was fixed upon the man as if life or
death for her lay in his answer.
Master Vogt shook his head. "That I cannot tell you. Franz spoke of the
letter, and told us that his brother was doing well, but he always
called him by his given name, Fritz, and neither my daughter nor I saw
the writing. The only thing I know is that he came from the Rhine."
From the Rhine! Jane laid her hand against her moist, icy-cold
forehead. For a moment, it seemed to her as if she must swoon away, and
all else with her; but she kept up, and remained so dumb and
motionless, that both men thought her apathetic.
Atkins glanced over to her in surprise; he waited for her to ask
further questions, waited for a full, minute; but as she was still
silent he began to speak.
"This being the case, we might have spared ourselves a difficult
journey! We have just come from the Rhine, my best Monsieur Vogt. You
can give us neither name nor place? Neither you nor your daughter?"
"Neither."
"Well, then, I must beg you to tell me the exact regiment and company
in which your future son-in-law serves at present. You have received
tidings of him since he left for the war?"
"Only once! We were hoping he would pass through here with the army,
and yesterday, when we learned that the new Prussian regiments were
entering the town, we all ran out and stood before the gates to see if
his was not there."
Atkins still waited for Jane to take part in the conversation; her
entire indifference seemed so strange after the feverish interest she
had shown a few minutes before; but, as she persisted in her
immobility, he drew forth his note book, and jotted down the statement
just given. The master-joiner took his leave of the young lady; she
bowed mechanically, and left it to her companion to dismiss him with
great politeness. The man might perhaps be again needed in this
business, and anyone whom Mr. Atkins thought of making use of always
enjoyed the politest attention from him.
When the man was gone, he turned to Jane. "Did I not tell you so? We
must go to another point of the compass? Now we will direct our steps
back to the Rhine. The only thing which remains to us is to write from
Germany to Herr Erdmann; in any event this is easier than a
correspondence with N., since we have his full address. In case he is
no longer alive, we must repeat our advertisement in the several
Rhenish newspapers. But in any event, I think we should immediately
start upon our return journey."
At these words, Jane started from her stupor.
"And why? We are now in France. Perhaps we may succeed in finding that
regiment!"
"For Heaven's sake, Jane, what are you thinking of? Seek a regiment
upon the march--what an idea!"
"But that matters not, I will now know the truth! And if it was to cost
me my life, and I must rush into the fight, even into the line of
battle,--I must have a certainty!"
Atkins stood almost horrified before this sudden outbreak of a passion
he had never suspected in Jane; and he now for the first time remarked
her deathly pallor.
"Good God, what is the matter with you! Are you ill? I thought you
would have to suffer from the weariness and excitement of this
journey."
He sought to assist her, but she repelled him with a passionate
gesture.
"It will pass over--I need nothing--but I beg you for a glass of
water."
Atkins was in serious anxiety; he knew that Jane was not at all subject
to nervous attacks, and he feared that she was ill. As in the hotel at
present, prompt service was not to be dreamt of, he himself hastened
out to fetch the water.
This was what Jane had expected. She wanted no water, but she needed a
moment of solitude to save her from suffocation. Scarce was he gone,
when she, too, hastened to the door, drew the bolt, and then sinking on
her knees by the sofa, she buried her face in her hands. Jane Forest
would not yield in this way before stranger eyes!
"If one is thrust out into life, without parents and without home, and
then falls into the hands of a learned man who knows and loves nothing
in the wide world but science--" and that letter came from the Rhine!
This had been the lightning stroke which had passed through her; the
presentiment came with all the annihilating power of certainty. That
lightning flash had opened an abyss before her, into which Jane did not
dare to glance; it had brought a secret to light, of which the cold,
proud betrothed of Alison had not before been conscious. But, as now in
mortal anguish she wrung her uplifted hands, it broke forth in one
long-repressed despairing-cry;--
"Almighty God, only not this! My rival, my deadly enemy, if it must be,
I will bear it--only not my brother!"