Herr von Schonan was already in advance and just descending the wide
stone steps which led to the castle court, when a man emerged from one
of the side buildings and came to a standstill, bowing his greeting
respectfully.
"Hallo, Stadinger; what are you doing at Furstenstein?" cried the Chief
Forester. "Come up here."
The man obeyed the command. He walked actively with firm, erect
carriage, in spite of his snow-white hair, and a pair of keen, dark
eyes shone from his tanned face.
"I have been with the Herr Steward, Herr Oberforstmeister," he replied,
"to ask if he could not let me have a few of his people to help me, for
everything is topsy-turvy with us at Rodeck just now. We have not hands
enough for the work."
"Ah, yes; Prince Egon has returned from his travels in the Orient; I
heard of it," said Schonan. "But how does it happen that he comes to
Rodeck this time, this small forest nook which offers neither room nor
comforts?"
"Heaven alone knows that; one never dares ask why with our young
Highness. The news came one morning, and the castle had to be put in
order, good or bad. I have had pains and worry enough to get ready in
two days."
"I believe that. Rodeck has not been inhabited for years, but now there
will be life once more in the old walls."
"But the old walls will be stood on their head with it all," grumbled
the castle keeper. "If you only knew how it looks there, Herr
Oberforstmeister. The whole hunting hall is packed full of lion and
tiger skins and all manner of mounted animals, and the live parrots and
monkeys sit about in every room. There is such a noise and making of
faces that one cannot hear a word at times; and now His Highness has
announced to me, besides, that a whole herd of elephants and a large
sea serpent are on their way here. I think apoplexy will overtake me."
"What is on the way here?" demanded Schonan, who could not believe his
ears.
"A sea serpent and a dozen elephants. I have remonstrated with might
and main. 'Your Highness,' I have said, 'we cannot house any more of
the beasts, particularly not the sea serpent, for such a beast needs
water, and we have no pond at Rodeck. As to the elephants--well, we
will just have to tie them to the trees in the forest. If we cannot do
that, I do not know what to do.' 'Good,' says His Highness, 'we will tie
them to the trees, it will be a picturesque sight; and we will send the
sea serpent to board at Furstenstein. That pond is large enough.' I beg
of you, Herr Oberforstmeister, he will populate the whole neighborhood
with those awful beasts."
The Chief Forester laughed aloud and patted the shoulder of the old
man, who seemed to enjoy his special favor.
"But, Stadinger, did you really take that in earnest? Don't you know
your Prince? It seems that he has not become more settled by his
absence."
"No, really not," sighed Stadinger, "and what His Highness does not
know, Herr Rojanow will surely find out. He makes it ten times worse.
Oh, dreadful that such a madcap should fall to our lot!"
"Rojanow? Who is that?" asked Schonan, becoming attentive.
"Yes, that is what nobody knows exactly, but he is everything with us
since His Highness cannot live without him. He found this friend
somewhere back there in the heathen lands. The friend himself may be
half a heathen or a Turk; he looks just like it, with his dark hair and
his fiery eyes, and he knows how to command from the very bottom. He
sometimes drives all the servants helter-skelter with his orders and
actions, as if he was lord and master of Rodeck. But he is handsome as
a picture--almost more so than our Prince, who has given strict orders
that his friend has to be obeyed like himself."
"Probably some adventurer who takes advantage of the Prince. I can
imagine that," muttered Schonan, continuing aloud: "Well, may God help
you, Stadinger! I must go now to meet my brother-in-law. Do not let any
gray hairs grow on account of the sea-serpent. If His Highness
threatens you with it again, just tell him I would offer the
Furstenstein pond with pleasure, but I must see it alive before me
first."
He nodded laughingly at the old man, who looked much comforted, and
walked toward the entrance portal.
Frau von Eschenhagen and her niece had also appeared, and the carriage
now came in sight upon the broad forest road of the castle mount,
rolling, a few minutes later, into the castle court.
Regine was the first to greet them. She shook her brother's hand so
heartily that he drew back with a slight shudder. The Chief Forester
remained in the background; he stood somewhat in awe of his diplomatic
brother-in-law, whose sarcasm he secretly feared; while Toni allowed
neither her uncle, His Excellency, nor his beautiful wife to rouse her
from her composed deliberation.
The years had not passed Herbert von Wallmoden by as lightly as
they had his sister; he had aged considerably; his hair had turned
quite gray, and the sarcastic lines around his mouth had become
more pronounced; otherwise he was still the cool, aristocratic
diplomat--perhaps a few degrees cooler and more reticent than formerly.
The superiority which he had borne to his surroundings seemed to have
grown with the high position which he filled at present.
The young wife at his side would probably have been taken by every
stranger for his daughter. He had truly shown good taste in his choice.
Adelaide von Wallmoden was, indeed, beautiful, although of that
composed, serious beauty which usually aroused only calm admiration,
but she seemed equal in every respect to the high position in life
brought her by this marriage.
The young wife, scarcely nineteen years old, and who had been married
but six months, showed perfect ease of manner--an unexceptional mastery
of all forms, as if she had lived for years beside her elderly husband.
To his wife Wallmoden was politeness and attention personified. He now
offered his arm to lead her to her room, returning in a few minutes to
join his sister, who awaited him on the terrace.
The attitude of these two to each other was in many respects a strange
one. The brother and sister were of the most pronounced opposites in
appearance as well as character, and usually of opinion as well; but
the blood relationship gave them, in spite of this difference, a
feeling of closest union. This was evident as they sat together now
after the long separation.
Although Herbert was somewhat nervous during the conversation, for
Regine did not find it necessary to subdue her peculiar manner, causing
him embarrassment more than once with her inconsiderate questions and
remarks, he had long ago learned to consider that as unavoidable, and
surrendered himself to it now with a sigh.
At first they spoke of the coming betrothal of Willibald and Toni,
which had Wallmoden's full approval. He thought the match very
suitable, and besides, every one in the family had been long acquainted
with it.
But now Frau von Eschenhagen began an entirely different subject.
"Well, and how do you feel as a husband, Herbert?" she asked. "You have
certainly taken your time for it, but better late than never, and to
speak the truth, you have had extraordinarily good luck in spite of
your gray hair."
The Ambassador did not seem very well pleased at this allusion to his
age. He pressed his thin lips together for a moment, and then replied
with some sharpness: "You should really be a little more careful in
your expressions, dear Regine. I know my age very well, but the
position in life which I brought my wife as a wedding gift should
counteract the difference of the years somewhat."
"Well, I should think the dowry she brought you was not to be
slighted," remarked Regine, quite unconcerned as to the rebuke. "Have
you already presented her at court?"
"Yes, two weeks ago, at the Summer Residenz. Mourning for my
father-in-law prevented it before. We shall have open house in the
winter as my position requires. I was most pleasantly surprised at
Adelaide's manner at court. She moved upon the strange ground with an
ease and composure which were truly admirable. I saw there again how
happy my choice was in every respect. But I wish to inquire after
several things at home. First of all, how is Falkenried?"
"Surely you do not need to ask me that? Are you not in regular
correspondence with him?"
"Yes, but his letters grow shorter and more monosyllabic. I wrote him
at length about my marriage, but received only a very laconic reply.
But you must see him frequently, since he has been called to the
position of Secretary of War. The city is near."
"You are mistaken there. The Colonel shows himself very rarely at
Burgsdorf, and he is becoming more and more reticent and
unapproachable."
"I am sorry to hear that; but he used always to make an exception of
you, and I hoped much from your influence since he is back in your
vicinity. Have you not tried, then, to renew the old intimacy?"
"I did at first, but finally had to give it up, for I saw that it was
painful to him. Nothing can be done there, Herbert. Since that
unfortunate catastrophe which both of us lived through with him he has
changed into stone. You have seen him several times since then and know
the ruin that has worked there."
Wallmoden's brow clouded and his voice was harsh as he returned: "Yes,
that scoundrel--that Hartmut lies heavy upon his heart, but more than
ten years have passed since then, and I hoped that Falkenried would
return to sociable life in time."
"I have never had that hope; that blow went to the root of life. I
shall never forget that evening at Burgsdorf while I live. How we
waited and waited--first with restlessness and anxiety, then with
deadly fear. You guessed the truth directly, but I would not permit
myself to believe it--and Falkenried! I can see him yet as he stood at
the window, looking fixedly out into the night pale as a corpse, with
teeth tightly clenched, having for every fear expressed the one reply,
'He will come--he must come. I have his word for it.' And when, in
spite of all, Hartmut did not come--when the night wore on and we
finally learned upon inquiry at the railroad station that the two had
arrived there in a carriage and taken the express train--God in heaven!
How the man looked when he turned to leave, so mute and stiff! I made
you promise not to leave his side, for I believed that he would blow
his brains out."
"You judged him wrongly," said Wallmoden decisively. "A man like
Falkenried considers it cowardice to lay hands on his life, even if
that life has become torture to him. He stands up even to a lost post.
Although what would have happened if they had let him go that time--I
do not dare to surmise."
"Yes, I knew that he had asked for his dismissal, because to serve
after his son had become a deserter did not accord with his ideas of
honor. It was the step of despair."
"Yes, truly; and it was fortunate that his chiefs would not dispense
with his military genius and force. The chief of the general's staff
took the affair in his own hands and brought it before the king. They
concluded finally to treat the whole unfortunate occurrence--at least
as far as it could concern the father--as the act of a heedless boy,
for which a highly deserving officer could not be held accountable.
Falkenried had to take back his request for resignation, was
transferred into a far-away garrison, and the affair silenced as much
as was possible. It is, indeed, buried and forgotten now after ten
years by all the world."
"It is not forgotten by one," finished Regine. "My heart burns
sometimes when I think of what Falkenried was once, and what he is now.
The bitter experience of his marriage had made him rather serious and
unsocial, but occasionally the full charming amiability of his manner
would break through, warm and hearty, from his inmost heart--all that
is over. He knows now only the iron severity of duty--all else is dead.
Even the old friendly relations have become painful to him. One has to
let him go his own way."
She broke off with a sigh, which betrayed how near to her heart was the
friend of her youth, and laying her hand upon the arm of her brother,
she continued: "Perhaps you are right, Herbert, in that one chooses
best and most sensibly in late years. You do not need to fear the fate
of Falkenried. Your wife comes from a good race. I knew Stahlberg well.
He had worked up to the heights of life with firmness and ability, and
even as a millionaire he remained the upright man of honor he had ever
been. Adelaide is the daughter of her father in every respect. You have
chosen well and you my heartfelt wishes for your happiness."