Over the Wald hung a dark, cloudy sky, which, from time to time, sent
down showers of rain. Gray mists clung around the heights, and storms
raged through the crowns of the trees. It was a regular autumn day in
the middle of summer.
The mistress of Ostwalden was alone at her castle. She had received
news from her brother that he had already left, and that the meeting
planned between them could not take place. Therefore Adelaide had
postponed her departure to be present at the marriage of Willibald and
Marietta, which was quietly celebrated in the presence of the nearest
relatives.
The young couple had left for Berlin, where Willibald was to join his
regiment immediately. His young wife wished to remain near him the few
days before the order came to march. From there she was to go to
Burgsdorf, whither her mother-in-law had preceded her.
The morning hours had not yet passed when Prince Adelsberg drove up to
the castle of Ostwalden. He had asked for leave of absence to-day to
"arrange some important matters"; but the important matters did not
carry him to Rodeck, but to Ostwalden. He came to say farewell to
Adelaide, whom he had not seen since that first visit.
As his carriage entered the castle yard, they met the priest of the
neighboring village with the holy sacrament, and attendant chorister.
Apparently the last rites had been administered to one seriously ill.
The Prince inquired to whom the sad visit had been paid, and learned
that it was to one of the inspectors of the estate, and that the
mistress of the castle was at present with the dying man; but the guest
should be announced to her instantly.
Egon restlessly paced up and down the reception room, into which he had
been shown. He had come here to obtain an assurance, without which he
did not feel able to march into a campaign of life or death; and the
uncertainty with which such a campaign was ever taken, must serve as
apology for thus approaching a young widow still in deep mourning. It
need not yet be a proposal. He wanted to take with him only a hope the
promise of which had risen so brightly at their last meeting, when
Adelaide had shown such warm interest in his sorrow about his absent
friend. He did not dream that he had made a fatal mistake. Still, in
spite of this, a deep shadow rested upon the face of the Prince,
usually so cheerful. It was not the leave-taking which gave him pain,
for he went to the battlefield with glowing enthusiasm and the happy
faith of youth, which dreams only of victory, and rejects all dark
prospects. Besides, he dreamed of another happiness in the future,
which he wished to secure now.
The door opened to admit Frau von Wallmoden.
"I beg your pardon for detaining you so long, Your Highness," she said,
after the first greetings. "It was probably told you that I was beside
a deathbed?"
"I learned so upon my arrival," replied Egon, who had hastened to meet
her. "Is the case really so serious?"
"Alas, yes! poor Tanner! He used to be tutor in a family in the
neighborhood, but had to give up his position on account of a serious
illness. At the request of the Chief Forester, I gave him employment in
cataloguing my husband's library, which had been sent to Ostwalden, and
it was hoped that he would quite recover in the easy office and the
invigorating forest air. He was so grateful for it, and told me only
yesterday how happy his mother was that he should be excused from
military service, on account of not being yet quite well. But suddenly
this morning he had a hemorrhage, and the physician tells me that he
can live but an hour longer. It is awful to see a young life bleed to
death like that!"
"And yet this will happen to thousands in the next few weeks," said
Egon, gravely. "Have you been with the poor man?"
"Yes, at his request. He knew how it was with him, and wished to lay a
prayer upon my heart for his old mother, who loses in him her only
support. I have calmed his mind on that subject, but it was all I could
do for him----"
One could see how deeply the scene at the deathbed had impressed the
young widow, and Egon, too, felt deep compassion at the narrative.
"I come to say farewell," he said, after a short pause. "We march the
day after to-morrow, and I could not deny myself a visit to you once
more. I am happy to have found you here, as I understand you intend
leaving soon."
"Yes, for Berlin. Lonely Ostwalden is so far remote, and in this time
of feverish expectation one wishes to be as near the centre of
communications and connections as possible. I am anxious about my
brother, who has joined the standard."
Again a pause ensued, and the Prince was about to break it with
expression of what lay so near his heart, when Frau von Wallmoden
anticipated him with a question, asked with apparent indifference, but
in a voice which trembled slightly:
"You were in much anxiety about the non-arrival of news of your friend
at your last visit, Your Highness. Have you heard from him yet?"
Egon's eyes fell, and the shadow which had been dispelled during the
conversation returned, heavily and gloomily, to his face.
"Yes," he replied, coldly. "Rojanow is back in Germany."
"Since the declaration of war?"
"Yes, he came----"
"To join the army! Oh, I knew it!"
The Prince looked at her amazed.
"You knew it, Your Excellency? I thought you had known Hartmut as a
Roumanian only, and through me."
A deep blush suffused the cheeks of the young Frau von Wallmoden. She
felt the exclamation had been a betrayal, but she quickly regained
composure. "I became acquainted with Herr Rojanow last fall, when he
was your guest at Rodeck," she answered, composedly; "but I have known
his father for long years, and he---- I suppose your Highness knows all
that has happened?"
"Yes, I know it now," said Egon, with heavy emphasis.
"Colonel Falkenried was a near friend of my father's and visited our
house frequently, although I had never heard of his son. I had
considered the Colonel childless until that awful hour at Rodeck, the
day my husband died. Then I learned the truth, and was a witness of a
meeting between father and son."
The Prince breathed a sigh of relief at this explanation, which
dispelled the disastrous thought just dawning upon him.
"I understand your concern, then," he replied. "Colonel Falkenried is,
indeed, to be pitied."
"He only?" asked Adelaide, struck by the harsh tone of the last words.
"And your friend?"
"I have no friend--I have lost him!" cried Egon, with passionate pain.
"What he confessed to me two days ago opened an abyss between us, and
what I know now parts us forever."
"You judge the misdemeanor of a seventeen-year-old lad very severely.
He must have been only a boy then."
A deep reproach lay in the words of the young widow; but the Prince
shook his head vehemently.
"I do not speak of that flight and that breaking of his word, although
they weigh heavily with the son of an officer. But what I heard
yesterday--I see you do not yet know the worst, gracious lady, and how
should you? Spare me this report."
Adelaide had turned pale, and her eyes, full of fear, hung fixed upon
the speaker.