The young Baroness lowered her voice and evaded the eyes of her
listener as she commenced.
"You know that my engagement happened a year ago at Florence. My father
was even then very ailing, and the physicians desired that he should
remain in Italy during the winter. We went to Florence, intending to
stay two months, and then make further plans according to the wish of
the invalid. My brother had accompanied us, but was to return home at
the beginning of winter.
"We took a villa outside the city, and, of course, lived quite secluded.
Eugene saw Italy for the first time, and it was so mournful for him to
sit day after day in the lonely sick room, that I seconded his request
to go to Rome for a short time. He finally received permission. Oh, if
I had never done it! But I could not know how deeply his inexperience
would involve him then."
"That means that he followed up adventures, although his father was at
death's door."
"Do not judge so harshly. My brother was scarcely twenty years old
then, and had always lived under the eyes of a loving but very strict
father. The short freedom proved dangerous to him. The young German,
who had no knowledge of the world whatever, was enticed into circles
where high--and as it was afterward proved--false gambling was the
order of the day, and where a number of bad, but outwardly charming,
elements met. Eugene, in his ignorance, did not understand it, and lost
heavily, until suddenly the party was raided by the police. The
Italians defended themselves, and it ended in a fight, into which
Eugene, too, was drawn. He only defended himself, but he had the
misfortune to injure a policeman severely, and was arrested with the
others."
The Colonel had listened silently, with impassive face, and his voice
was as harsh as before as he said: "And Stahlberg had to live to see
this of his son, who had been a model until then?"
"He never heard of it; it was only a momentary losing of one's self--a
case of one misled, rather than guilty, and it will not happen again.
Eugene has given me his word of honor for that."
Falkenried laughed so scornfully that his companion looked at him in
consternation.
"His word of honor! Yes, why not? That is given as easily as it is
broken. Are you truly so trusting as to believe in the word of such a
young lad?"
"Yes, that I am," asserted Adelaide, in an injured tone, while her
eyes, earnest and reproachful, met the gaze of the man whose awful
bitterness she could not explain. "I know my brother. In spite of this
escapade, he is the son of his father, and he will keep his word to me
and to himself--I know it."
"It is well for you if you can still believe and trust. I have long
forgotten how," said Falkenried, in a low but milder tone. "And what
happened then?"
"My brother succeeded in being allowed to send me word immediately.
'Keep it from father, it would be his death,' he wrote. I knew better
than he did that our desperately ill father could not stand such news.
But we were alone in a foreign country, without friends or
acquaintances, and help had to be had instantly. In this extremity I
thought of Herr von Wallmoden, who at the time was at the embassy at
Florence. We had known him slightly before, and he had called directly
after our arrival and placed himself at our command, should we need the
help of the Ambassador. He had come to our house frequently, and now
hastened to me immediately upon receiving my request. I told him all,
and trusted him, beseeching his advice and help--and received it."
"At what price?" demanded the Colonel, with darkly contracted brows.
Adelaide shook her head.
"No, no; it is not as you think--as Eugene also believed. I was not
forced. Herbert gave me free choice, although he did not hide from me
that the occurrence was much worse than I feared; that those sums lost
in play must, nevertheless, be paid if one wished to keep the affair
from publicity; that, in spite of all, it might get into the courts, on
account of the injury to the policeman. He explained to me that he
might be brought into a wrong light if he mixed himself up in such
affairs. 'You desire me to save your brother,' said he; 'perhaps I can
do it, but I jeopardize my position--my whole future thereby. One
makes such a sacrifice, perhaps, only for his own brother, or--his
brother-in-law."
Falkenried arose suddenly and took a turn through the room. Then he
stood still before the young wife and said, in angry tones: "And you,
of course, believed that in your anxiety?"
"Do you mean that it was not so?" asked Adelaide, startled.
He shrugged his shoulders with a half-contemptuous expression.
"Possibly. I do not know these diplomatic reasons. I know only one
thing; Wallmoden has, indeed, proved himself a great diplomat in the
whole affair. What did you answer him?"
"I asked for time to think, everything had burst so upon me. But I
knew, that no moment was to be lost, and that same evening I gave
Herbert the right to act--for his brother-in-law."
"Of course," muttered the Colonel, with deep disdain; "the wise, shrewd
Herbert!"
"He obtained leave of absence immediately, and went to Rome," continued
the young Baroness, "returning in a week, accompanied by my brother. He
had succeeded in freeing Eugene and withdrawing him from the whole
affair. Even the newspapers did not mention the name of the young
German who had been involved in it. I do not know by what means it was
done. If one has powerful friends and does not need to spare money,
much is possible. Herbert had spent money lavishly on all sides and had
brought into use every advantage made possible to him through his long
years of diplomatic work. He also cancelled the gambling debts,
although with his own bond. He told me later that he had given half his
fortune for that purpose."
"It was very magnanimous, since by this sacrifice he won a cool
million. And what did Eugene say to this--trade?"
"He knew nothing of it, and soon returned to Germany, as had been
decided at first. From that time Herbert came to our house daily and
knew how to prepossess my sick father so well, that father finally felt
a desire for the union himself. Only then did Herbert begin his wooing.
I was grateful to him for giving it this turn, only Eugene was not
deceived. He guessed everything, and forced the truth from me. Since
then he has tortured himself with self-reproach and almost feels
hostility toward his brother-in-law, in spite of my repeated assurance
that I have never had cause to rue that step, and that I have in
Herbert the most attentive and considerate husband."
Falkenried's eyes rested intently upon the face of the young wife, as
if he wished to read her most secret thoughts.
"Are you happy?" he asked, slowly.
"I am content."
"That is much in this life," said the Colonel in the old, harsh tone.
"We were not born to be happy. I have done you wrong, Ada. I believed
the splendor of a high position, the desire to play a first role in
society as wife of the Ambassador, had made you Frau von Wallmoden,
but--I am glad that t judged you wrongly."
He stretched forth his hand. Some expression was now in the icy gaze
and an apology in the grasp of the hand.
"You know everything now," concluded Adelaide, with a deep breath, "and
I beg that you will not touch upon the subject before Herbert. You see,
there was nothing dishonorable in his dealings. I repeat to you that he
used neither force nor persuasion. I was forced only by the power of
circumstances. I could not expect that he would make such sacrifices
for a stranger."
"If a lady had sought me in such anxiety, I would have made the
sacrifices--unconditionally," declared Falkenried.
"Yes, you! I would have followed you also with a lighter heart."
The avowal betrayed, unconsciously, how hard had been the struggle
which the young wife had not mentioned by a word. But she spoke the
truth.
She would much rather have given herself to the gloomy, reticent man,
with his harsh and often offensive manner, if the sacrifice had to be
made, than to the ever polite and attentive husband, who, in the face
of her extremity--had traded with it.
"You would have had a hard lot then, Ada," said the Colonel, with a
grave shake of the head. "I am one of the men who cannot give or
receive anything more in this life. I have finished with it long ago.
But you are right; it is better to let that subject remain untouched
between Wallmoden and me, for if I wished to tell him my true opinion
about it--well, he will always be a diplomat."
Adelaide arose, breaking off the conversation, and tried to assume a
lighter tone.
"And now let me take you to your rooms at last. You must be exhausted
by the long trip."
"No, a single night's journey will not tire a soldier. Duty makes
harsher demands than that on us."
He drew himself up straight and firm; one could see that his physical
strength was yet unbroken. Those muscles and sinews seemed like steel.
It was the features alone that bore the mark of age.
The eyes of the Baroness lingered upon them thoughtfully, especially
upon the brow which was so deeply and heavily furrowed and yet was
formed so high and powerful under the white hair.
It seemed to her as if she had seen that brow somewhere else, under
dark locks; but there could not be a sharper contrast than between this
too early aged, care-lined face and that youthful head with the
foreign, southern beauty and the uncanny light in the eyes. Yet it had
been the same brow over which the lightnings had flamed on that lonely
forest height; the same high, powerful curve; even the blue veins which
were so pronounced at the temples--a strange, incomprehensible
likeness!