Hartmut descended the stairs slowly after his leave-taking, the lost
letter-case resting safely in its usual place. It had served its
purpose as a pretext to free its possessor a little while.
Adelaide von Wallmoden had casually mentioned having come with her
husband, who remained down at the inn because he disliked the
troublesome climbing of the steep stairs.
Hartmut could not therefore evade a meeting with him, but it should at
least take place without witnesses. If Wallmoden should recognize the
son of his friend, whom he had known only as a boy, he might not be
able to master his surprise.
Hartmut did not fear this meeting, even if it were inconvenient and
uncomfortable to him. There was but one face in the whole world he
feared--only one face to which he would not dare lift his eyes--and
that face was far away; probably he would never see it again. Every one
else he met with the proud defiance of a man who had only done right in
withdrawing from a hated vocation.
He was decided upon not permitting any expression of reproach, but, if
he should be recognized, to request the Ambassador in the most decided
manner to consider certain old connections, with which he had so
totally broken, as no longer existing. With this conclusion he emerged
into the open air.
Herbert Wallmoden sat with his sister upon the little veranda of the
inn. The Chief Forester had been too much occupied with the approaching
arrival of the court, the hunting expeditions of which he had to
arrange, to accompany the party. The betrothed couple had also remained
at home; but the day for the little trip could not have been more
pleasant.
"This Hochberg is really worth seeing," said Frau von Eschenhagen, her
eyes roaming over the country. "We have almost the same view here as
upon the top of the tower. Why climb and overheat oneself and lose
one's breath on those never-ending steps?"
"Adelaide was of a different opinion," replied Wallmoden, with a casual
glance at the tower. "She does not know fatigue nor how to get
overheated."
"And also how not to catch cold. She proved that the day before
yesterday, when she came home drenched through. She did not catch the
least cold."
"Nevertheless, I have requested her to take an escort for her future
walks," said the Ambassador, calmly. "To get lost in the forest, wade a
creek, and be guided to the right path by the first hunter one comes
across are things which must not occur again. Adelaide agreed with me
and promised immediately to obey my wishes."
"Yes, she is a sensible woman, a thoroughly healthy nature from which
anything romantic or adventurous is far removed," complimented Regine.
"But there seem to be more visitors upon the tower. I thought we should
be the only guests to-day."
Wallmoden looked indifferently at the tall, slender gentleman who now
emerged from the small tower door and walked toward the inn. Frau von
Eschenhagen also looked at him carelessly; but suddenly her glance grew
keener, and she started.
"Herbert--look!"
"Where?"
"That stranger there. What a strange resemblance!"
"To whom?" asked Herbert, growing more attentive and looking sharply at
the stranger.
"To--impossible! That is not only a resemblance. It is he himself."
She sprang up, pale with excitement, and her look fastened itself upon
the features of the man just now putting his foot upon the first step
of the veranda. She met his eyes, those dark, glowing eyes, which had
so often shone upon her from the face of the boy, and the last doubt
disappeared.
"Hartmut--Hartmut Falkenried--you----"
She was suddenly silenced by Wallmoden's laying his hand heavily upon
her arm and saying slowly, but with emphasis: "You are mistaken,
Regine. We do not know this gentleman."
Hartmut stopped short when he caught sight of Frau von Eschenhagen, who
had been hidden by the foliage. He was not prepared for her presence.
At the moment he recognized her the words of the Ambassador reached his
ear. He knew that icy tone only too well; it forced the blood to his
brow.
"Herbert!" Regine looked doubtingly at her brother, who still held her
by the arm.
"We do not know him," he repeated in the same tone.
"Is it possible that I have to tell you that, Regine?"
She understood now his meaning. With a half threatening, half painful
glance, she turned her back upon the son of her friend and said, with
deep bitterness:
"You are right. I was mistaken."
Hartmut started, and in rising anger he drew a step nearer.
"Herr von Wallmoden!"
"Did you speak to me?" The tone was as stinging and scornful as before.
"You have anticipated my wishes, Your Excellency," said Hartmut,
forcing himself to be calm. "I wished to ask you not to recognize me.
We are strangers to each other."
He turned and walked off defiantly, tall and erect, and entered the
house by another door.
Wallmoden looked after him with darkened brow. Then he turned to his
sister.
"Could you not control yourself better, Regine? Why have a scene at
such a meeting? This Hartmut does not exist any longer for us."
Regine's face betrayed only too well how much this encounter had
shocked her. Her lips still quivered as she replied:
"I am no practiced diplomat like you, Herbert. I have not learned to be
still when one whom I thought dead or ruined suddenly appears before
me."
"Dead? that was hardly to be expected at his age. Ruined, corrupted?
that might be nearer it. His life up to the present moment has lain in
that direction."
"Do you know about it?" Frau von Eschenhagen started with surprise. "Do
you know of his life?"
"Partly. Falkenried was too much my friend for me not to investigate
what became of his son. Of course, I was silent to him as well as you
concerning it; but as soon as I had returned to my office that time, I
used our diplomatic relations, which reach everywhere, to inquire about
it."
"Well, what did you learn?"
"Principally only that which was to be expected. Zalika had turned her
steps directly homeward with her son. You know that her stepfather--our
cousin Wallmoden--was already dead when she returned to her mother
after the divorce. The connections on our side were thereby broken off,
but I learned that shortly before Zalika's reappearance in Germany she
had come into the possession of the Rojanow estates."
"Zalika? Did she not have a brother?"
"Yes, he had charge of the estates for ten years, but died, unmarried,
from an accident while hunting, and, since his mother's second
marriage had resulted in no descendant, Zalika entered now upon the
inheritance--at least in name--for through the reckless management of
the Bojar, the most of it belonged to the Jews. Nevertheless, she now
felt herself master, and planned the _coup_ of getting possession of
her son. The old, wild life was then continued upon the estates for a
few years, with senseless management, until everything was gone. Then
mother and son, like a couple of gypsies, went out into the wide
world."
Wallmoden narrated this with the same cold contempt which he had shown
to Hartmut, and the same horror and aversion were pictured in the face
of his sister--that strictly duteous and moral lady. Nevertheless, a
certain degree of sympathy was in her voice as she asked: "And you have
not heard anything of them since?"
"Yes, several times. A casual mention of the name led me to the track.
While I was at the embassy at Florence, they were in Rome; a few years
later they appeared in Paris, and there I heard of the death of Frau
Zalika Rojanow."
"So she is dead," said Frau von Eschenhagen, in a low voice. "What do
you think they have lived on all these years?"
Wallmoden shrugged his shoulders.
"What do all adventurers who wander homeless over the world live on?
They may perhaps have saved something from the wreck, perhaps not. At
any rate, they visited all the salons in Paris and Rome. A woman like
Zalika finds help and protection everywhere. She had the title of
nobility as daughter of a Bojar, and the forced sale of the Roumania
property was probably not known, so it played a prominent part in their
success. Society opens its doors only too quickly to this element if it
knows how to keep up appearances, which seems to have been the case
here. By what means, that, of course, is another question."
"But Hartmut, whom she forcibly carried into such a life--what of him?"
"An adventurer--what else?" said the Ambassador, with intense
harshness. "He always had an inclination that way; he will have
developed finely in such a school. I have not heard anything of him
since the death of his mother, three years ago."
"And you kept it a secret from me?" said Regine, reproachfully.
"I wished to spare you. You had taken this scoundrel--this Hartmut--too
much into your heart. I was afraid you might be carried away in a hint
to Falkenried."
"You took unnecessary pains. I have ventured but once to speak of
the past to Falkenried. He looked at me--I shall never forget that
look--and said, with an awful expression: 'My son is dead--you know
that, Regine. Let the dead rest!' I shall certainly not mention that
name to him again."
"Then I do not need to caution you when you return home," replied
Wallmoden. "But you ought not to speak of it to Willibald, either. His
good nature might play him a trick when he learns that his once great
friend lives in the neighborhood. It is best for him to hear nothing of
it. I shall certainly ignore this _gentleman_ at a possible second
meeting, and Adelaide does not know him at all. She does not even know
that Falkenried had a son."
He broke off and arose, for his young wife now appeared in the door of
the tower.
Prince Adelsberg renewed the acquaintance of yesterday and inquired
innocently if his friend, Rojanow, had passed by here. He could not
explain his absence.
A glance from Wallmoden warned his sister, who was proof this time
against surprise. Wallmoden himself regretted not having seen the
gentleman, and said that he was just about to leave with his wife and
sister, having only awaited the former's return. The order for the
carriage was given at once, to which Egon accompanied them, taking
leave of them with a deep bow, but following the carriage with
attentive eyes.
Hartmut stood alone at a window of the inn, also observing the
departure. The same ashy paleness again overspread his face, which had
gleamed there at the first mention of the name of Wallmoden; but now it
was the whiteness of a wild anger which almost shocked him.
He had expected questions and reproaches, which, of course, he had
intended to refute haughtily; but was met instead with a complete
ignoring, which was a deadly insult to his pride. Wallmoden's harsh
warning to his sister, "We do not know him--have I to remind you of
that?" had wrought up his whole being. He felt the annihilation
contained in it. And the woman, who had always shown him a mother's
love--even Frau von Eschenhagen--had joined her brother in turning her
back upon him, as upon a person one is ashamed to have once known. This
was too much.
"Well, here you are!" Egon's voice came from the door. "You disappeared
as if the earth had swallowed you. Has the unlucky letter-case been
found?"
Rojanow turned. He was obliged to recall the pretext he had used.
"Yes, indeed," he answered absently, "it lay upon the stairs."
"Well, the guide would have found it just as well. Why did you not come
back? Very polite of you to leave Frau von Wallmoden and me without
ceremony. You have not even taken leave of the lady. His Excellency's
highest displeasure is sure to fall upon you."
"I shall know how to bear the misfortune," said Hartmut, shrugging his
shoulders.
The Prince drew near and laid his hand jestingly upon his friend's
shoulder.
"So? It is probably because you fell into disgrace yesterday. It is not
your usual way to run off where the entertainment of a beautiful lady
is concerned. Oh, I know all about it. Her Excellency has given you a
lecture over your loving tirades against Germany, and the spoiled
favorite has been offended. Why, one could afford to be told the truth
by such lips."
"You seem to be quite transported," sneered Hartmut. "Beware lest the
husband be not jealous in spite of his years."
"It is a strange couple," said Egon musingly, as if lost in thought;
"that old diplomat, with his gray hair and immovable face, and his
young wife with her brilliant beauty like----"
"An aurora which rises from a sea of ice. It is only a question of
which stood furthest below zero."
The young Prince laughed heartily. "Very poetical and very malicious;
but you are not far wrong. I have also felt something of this polar
breath touching me chillingly several times; but that is my luck.
Otherwise I would fall hopelessly in love with the beautiful
Excellency. But I think it is time for us to leave, _nicht wahr?_"
He went to the door to call the groom. Hartmut following, threw one
more glance out to where, through an opening in the forest, the
Ambassador's carriage was again visible, and his hands clinched
involuntarily.
"We shall speak yet, Herr Wallmoden," he muttered. "I shall remain now.
He shall not think that I fly from his presence. I shall allow Egon to
present me at court, and exert my utmost to make my work a success. We
shall see then if he dares treat me like a first-class adventurer. He
shall pay for that tone and look!"