It was the next morning. After breakfast the two brothers had withdrawn
to the study of the elder one, and were alone there. Sandow sat at the
writing-table; on his countenance lay an expression which for long
years had never dwelt there, a shimmer of the happiness of former days,
but his brow was still clouded as he spoke to his brother, who leant
against the window opposite to him.
"Then you will really forsake me and carry Jessie off to Germany? I
hoped that when Clifford's daughter should belong to you, you would
also become his successor in business, and thus fulfil his dearest
wish. You need not on that account give up your pen altogether, the
real weight of business will rest as before on my shoulders. Our press
is mightier and more influential than yours, here you would find a
freer and wider field than in our native land. Consider it!"
"It requires no consideration," said Gustave with decision. "I can only
give my whole interest and energy to one occupation. Merchant and
_litterateur_; that won't do! Were the intellectual horizon here ten
times as wide, every chord of my heart is bound to my home, I can only
there work and create. And then we should never do as partners. For a
few weeks I could wear the mask of a subordinate and be silent to all,
for on Frida's account I wished to prevent a breach. But now Frank! I
must tell you plainly that your business practice, your whole system,
would render it impossible for us ever to get on together. It led you
to a close union with Jenkins--in that lies your condemnation."
Sandow did not spring up, as at such a declaration he would certainly
have done before, but his brow took a deeper shade.
"You look at things from one point of view and I from another. Your
calling gives you perfect liberty in act and thought, I stand amidst
all kinds of antagonistic interest, and cannot always choose my means.
I wish"--he paused a moment, and then overcoming himself continued--"I
wish I had not entered on this partnership with Jenkins. But it has
happened, and I cannot extricate myself."
"Can you really not? Is there no way out of it?"
"I have told you that hundreds of thousands are invested in this
affair, and run the risk of losing all if it does not succeed, or if I
withdraw from it."
"But you must withdraw whatever the loss may be!"
Sandow looked at him as if he did not believe his ears.
"At the risk of such a loss? Are you serious? Have you any idea of what
such a sum means? I have done what I could, I have made the attempt to
separate from Jenkins, to my injury--for he has become more obstinate
in consequence. In his last letter he asked with ill-concealed
suspicion, if I really required my money, since I appeared so anxious
to withdraw my capital. He seems to suspect losses on my side, perhaps
doubts my credit, and for a merchant that is the most dangerous thing
that can happen. I must enter upon the thing with redoubled energy if I
would repair such an imprudence."
"Yesterday I gave you your child," said Gustave earnestly, "and I
believe that in her you have won more than you will lose here. For
Frida's sake I hoped you would withdraw from a speculation which
hinders you from meeting your daughter's eyes."
Sandow turned quickly away, but his voice had the old harsh sound as he
replied--
"Just for Frida's sake! Shall I impoverish my newly-found child? Shall
I rob her of the half of her fortune?"
"She will have enough in the other half, and I do not believe that the
whole will bring a blessing, when it is retained at such a price."
"Silence! You understand nothing about it. A retreat at any risk, such
as you suggest is an impossibility, so not another word on the subject!
Naturally, I release you from your promise, for, knowing you as I do
now, I am sure that you have never written the articles."
"The first is long since ready," replied Gustave coldly. "It will
certainly be also the last, one such will suffice. I intended showing
you the MSS. to-day. Here it is."
He drew some pages of writing from his pocket, and offered them to his
brother, who took them hesitatingly, and looked questioning and
doubtfully at him.
"Read," said Gustave simply.
Sandow began to read, at first slowly, but with, ever-increasing
haste. He turned over the leaves with a trembling hand, and glanced
over them. His face grew darker, and breaking off in the midst he threw
the manuscript violently on the table.
"Are you out of your mind! You have written, you will publish that! It
is terrible what you there expose to the world!"
Gustave drew himself up to his full height, and stepped up close to his
brother.
"Terrible! indeed it is! And the most terrible part is, that all these
things are true. I have been on the spot, and can pledge my honour for
every word that I have written there. Draw back, Frank, while there is
yet time. This article, appearing in the _K--sche Zeitung_, repeated
throughout the entire German press, cannot fail in its working. The
Consulate, the Ministry will be obliged to notice it. They will take
care that no one falls unwarned into the hands of Jenkin's and Co."
"You are very proud of the wonderful effect of your pen!" cried Sandow
beside himself. "You seem to have forgotten that I am an equal
shareholder with Jenkins, and that when you describe the place in such
revolting colours, every word is directed against the wealth and honour
of your brother. You will not only ruin me by this, but represent me as
a scoundrel in the eyes of all the world."
"No. I shall not do that, for you will separate yourself altogether
from this rascally company, and I shall add, that my brother, who had
unwittingly become involved in this speculation, retreated from it at a
great pecuniary sacrifice, as soon as his eyes were opened to the
enormity of the proceeding. Declare this openly to the man, if you fear
that merely withdrawing will be injurious to your credit. The truth,
here too, is the best."
"And you think that Jenkins would believe me, the merchant, the head of
the house of Clifford, guilty of such an insane trick. He would simply
believe I had lost my senses."
"It is possible, for since this honourable personage has no conscience
himself, he would not understand its existence in anyone else.
Nevertheless, you must try every means."
Sandow walked wildly up and down the room for a few minutes, at last he
stopped and said with gasping breath--
"You do not know what it is to seize a wasp's nest. In Europe you would
at least be safe from their stings, while I must remain here open to
all. Jenkins would never forgive me if my name were attached to any
such revelations. He is influential enough to set against me all who
are concerned in it, and they are counted by hundreds. You do not know
the iron ring of interest which surrounds and binds us together. One
hangs on the other, one supports the other. Woe to him who tears
himself away and offers battle to his former companions. They all swear
to destroy him. His credit is undermined, his plans crossed, he himself
calumniated and harassed till he is ruined. Just now I could not
support such attacks. Jessie's money will be lost to the firm, this
speculation has weakened my own means to the last degree; should it
fail, for me it will be the beginning of ruin. I speak as unreservedly
to you as you have to me, and now go and publish your discovery to all
the world!"
He paused, overwhelmed with excitement; Gustave looked darkly before
him, his brow, too, bore the marks of deep and anxious care.
"I did not think that you were so surrounded and entangled on every
side. That comes from this execrable system of business! Well then"--he
laid his hand upon the paper--"destroy this, I will not write it again.
I am silent when you assure me that my words will be your ruin. But the
consequences are on your head! You must answer for every human life
which is lost in that den of fever."
"Gustave, you are killing me!" groaned Sandow sinking into a chair.
The door was gently opened and the servant announced that the carriage
which usually conveyed the two gentlemen to town was at the door.
Gustave signed to the man to withdraw, and then bending over his
brother said--
"You cannot now come to a decision. You must be calm. Let me go alone
to the office to-day and represent you there. You are terribly agitated
and excited, too much came on you yesterday."
Sandow made a mute sign of assent, he might well feel that he was not
in a condition to show his ordinary calm business demeanour to his
subordinates. But when his brother was already at the door, he suddenly
started up,
"One thing--not a word to Frida! Don't bring her into the field against
me, or you drive me to extremities."
"Be tranquil, I should not have ventured that," said Gustave with
great emphasis. "It would estrange the scarcely won heart of your
child--perhaps for ever. Good-bye Frank."
About an hour later Frida entered her father's room, where he was still
pacing restlessly up and down. She started when she saw him, for his
countenance betrayed something of the struggle of the past hours. He
tried indeed to conceal his agitation, and avoided giving a direct
reply to the anxious inquiries of his daughter, but still she saw that
he was devoured by feverish anxiety. The girl was still too much a
stranger to venture on forcing his confidence by prayers and
entreaties, but she looked with secret dread at the gloomy shadow which
brooded over the brow, where nothing but joy and pardon should have
been seen.
Suddenly Gustave entered with Jessie; he appeared to have just returned
from town, for he still held his hat and gloves; he had, however, been
scarcely an hour absent.
"I have brought Jessie with me," he said in his usual cheerful manner,
"and since Frida is also here, we can hold another family council in
your room. You are surprised to see me again so soon, Frank. I wished
to relieve you of all business affairs to-day, but have been compelled
to come to you for a decision. At the office I found some emigrants who
would not be satisfied without seeing you, and as you were not coming
to town today, I have brought them out here."
"Yes, Gustave brought them out in his own carriage," said Jessie who
had been rather astonished at seeing her future husband drive up to the
door, with some homely peasants in the elegant equipage belonging to
their house.
"They are Germans, fellow-countrymen, indeed they are from our own
little native place," added Gustave quickly. "They might not have been
able to find their way here alone, so I considered it best to bring
them."
"That was quite unnecessary," said Sandow uneasily, and displeased at
what he foresaw would be a last and decisive attack. "The thing could
have waited till to-morrow. What have I personally to do with the
wanderers? They can receive every information at the office. You have
really brought them all here?"
"Yes all, excepting the agent of Jenkins and Co. He was here yesterday
with the object of speaking to you; I put him off till this morning,
and arrived just in time to rescue these people from him; for he seemed
resolved not to let them go till he had given them the fullest
particulars. You will of course receive them; I promised them
positively an interview with you."
And without leaving his brother time to refuse, he opened the door of
the adjoining room, and invited the men who were waiting there to
enter. The two girls were about to retire when they found a business
interview was to take place, but Gustave held Jessie's arm fast, and
said softly but impressively to her and his niece--
"Stay, both of you. I want you, but particularly Frida!"
Meanwhile the strangers had entered. There were three men, robust
country folk, with sunburnt faces and toil-hardened hands. The eldest,
a man of middle age, appeared highly respectable in manner and dress.
The two others were younger and looked more necessitous. They stood
awkwardly near the door, while their leader made a few steps forward.
"There is my brother," said Gustave, directing their attention to him.
"Speak quite freely and fearlessly to him. Under the present
circumstances, he only can give you the best advice."
"God be with you, Mr. Sandow!" began the leader, with the touching
German salutation, usual in his province, and with a strong, harsh
provincial accent. "We are thankful to find Germans here, with whom we
can speak an honest word. At your office where we at first sought you,
we were ordered here and there, and were quite bewildered, till
fortunately your brother appeared. He immediately took our part, and
has been very rough with the agent who would not let us see you. But he
was right then, for long ago we lost all confidence in the whole band."
Sandow rose; he felt the storm approach, and cast a threatening,
reproachful glance at the brother who had thus entangled him. But the
merchant well knew that he must not allow the strangers to have any
idea of his position, but must preserve his usual business air. He
asked--
"What do you want with me, and what am I to advise you upon?"
The peasant looked at his two companions as if he expected them to
speak, but as they remained silent and made energetic signs for him to
continue, he alone replied--
"We have fallen into a horrible trap, and know no way out of it. Before
leaving Germany we were recommended to Jenkins and Company, and on
arriving in New York were received by their agent. They promised us a
mine of wealth, and at their office one seemed to believe that in the
far west lay an earthly paradise. But on the way here we accidentally
met a few Germans, who had been several years in America, and they told
another tale. They bade us beware of this Jenkins and his western
paradise. He was a regular cutthroat, and had already brought many to
misery. We should all be ruined in his forests, and what all his other
fine things might be. Then we felt stunned! The agent, who was
travelling in another compartment, was furious when we plainly told him
what we had heard, but as I said before, we had lost all confidence in
him, and wished to consider the thing again before we travelled so many
more hundred miles westward."
Gustave, who stood beside Jessie, listened with apparent calm. She
looked rather frightened; she did not know all the circumstances, but
could easily feel that this meant more than an ordinary business
affair.
Frida, on the other hand, listened with breathless excitement to the
words which bore such singular resemblance to those which, weeks ago,
she had spoken to her father. But what could he have to do with this
emigration scheme?
"We were directed to your bank, Mr. Sandow," continued the man, "for
the signing the contract and payment for the land. We heard in the
neighbourhood that you were a German, and indeed out of our own
province. Then I called together the others and said, 'Children, now
there is no more difficulty; we will go to our countryman and lay the
thing before him. He is a German, so will, no doubt, have a conscience,
and will not send his fellow-countrymen to their destruction!'"
If Sandow had not before realised to the full extent, what a sin
his speculation was, he learnt it in this hour, and the simple,
true-hearted words of the peasant burnt into his soul, as the bitterest
reproaches could not have done.
It was torture that he endured, but the worst was to come. Frida crept
to his side. He did not look at her at that moment, he could not, but
he felt the anxious, imploring look, and the trembling of the hand
which clasped his own.
"Now it is your turn to speak," said the man, turning half angrily to
his companions, who had entirely left the management of the affair to
him. "You, too, have wives and children, and have spent your last penny
on the journey. Yes, Mr. Sandow, there are poor devils among us who
have nothing but their strong arms, and can count on nothing but their
labour. Some of us are certainly better off, and so we thought one
could help the other in the new colony. There are about eighty of us,
besides a dozen children, and for the poor little ones it would indeed
be bad if things over there are as we have been told. So give us
advice, _Herr Landsmann_! If you say to us, 'Go,' then in God's name we
shall start early to-morrow, and hope for the best. It will be God
Himself who has brought us to you, and we shall thank Him from the
bottom of our hearts."
Sandow leant heavily on the table which stood before him. Only by
exerting the utmost force of will was he able to appear collected. Only
Gustave knew what was raging in his heart, and he now decided to break
the long and painful pause which had followed the last words.
"Have no fear!" he cried. "You see my brother has himself a child, an
only daughter, and thus he knows what the life and health of your
little ones is to you. His advice can be implicitly followed. Now,
Frank, what do you advise our countrymen to do?"
Sandow looked at the three men, whose eyes rested anxiously, yet
confidingly, on his face, then at his daughter, and suddenly standing
erect, he cried--
"Do not go there!"
The men started back, and looked at each other, and then at the
merchant, who had given them this strange advice.
"But you are connected with this company?" cried the one, and the
others confirmed his words. "Yes, indeed, you are one of them!"
"In this affair I have been deceived myself," explained Sandow. "It is
only lately that I have learnt exactly the nature of the land, of which
I am certainly one of the owners, and I know that it is not suited for
colonization. I will, therefore, make no contract with you, as I intend
to withdraw from my obligations and give up the whole undertaking."
The Germans had no suspicion what a sacrifice their countryman had made
for them, or at what price their rescue had been bought. They looked
quite helpless and despairing, and their leader said with startled
manner--
"This is an abominable business? We Lave made and paid for this long
journey, and here we are in America. We cannot return, we must not
proceed; we are betrayed and sold in a strange country. Mr. Sandow, you
must advise us again, you mean well by us that we can see, or you would
not deal such a blow at your own interest. Tell us what to do?"
A heavy, troubled breath came from the breast of the merchant. Nothing
was spared him to the last detail, but he had gone too far to retreat.
"Go to the German Consul in this town," he replied, "and lay your case
before him. As far as I know there is a German company in New York,
which has also undertaken the colonization of the West, and which is
under the special protection of our Consulate. Their possessions are
not extremely distant from the original object of your journey, the
route is almost the same. More particulars you will learn of the Consul
himself; you may place implicit confidence in him, and he will assist
you by every means in his power."
The faces of the poor men cleared wonderfully at this intelligence.
"Thank God! there is some escape for us!" said the leader. "We will
start immediately so as to lose no time, and we are much indebted to
you, sir, and to the young gentleman here. It is brave of you to retire
from this swindling affair, as though you would not say so, we can see
that it is a great loss to you. May God reward you for what you have
done for us, and for our wives and children!"
He offered his hand to the merchant, who took it mechanically, and the
words of farewell with which he released the people were just as
spiritless.
But Gustave shook them all heartily by the hand, and rang the bell
violently to summon a servant, whom he ordered to accompany them to the
German Consulate and only to leave them at the door.
When they were gone, Sandow threw himself into a chair; and the
agitation which had been so sternly repressed now claimed its rights;
he appeared crushed beneath it.
"Father, for God's sake what is the matter?" cried Frida, throwing her
arms round him, but now Gustave re-entered, his face actually beaming
with triumph.
"Let him be, Frida, it will pass. You have indeed right to be proud of
your father! Frank, from the moment when our countrymen stood before
you, I was certain that you would in the end warn them against your own
speculation, but that you would have recommended them to the other
company, against which Jenkins quite lately published a most violent
article in the _New York Revolver Press_, that I did not hope, and for
that I must shake you by the hand?"
But Sandow waved him and his proffered hand away, and pressed his
daughter to his breast. A bitter expression rested on his lips as he
said--
"You don't know what Gustave has done to you, my child, nor what this
hour may yet cost to your father. From to-day Jenkins will be my most
unyielding enemy, and will never rest from attacking me. I have placed
myself only too entirely in his hands."
"Throw the whole thing over and come with us to Germany," cried
Gustave. "Why should you allow yourself to be tormented and harassed
by these honourable New Yorkers, when you could live happy and
comfortably in your native land. When Jessie is married there will be
an end of the name of Clifford, why not also wind up the firm. Of
course you will lose by withdrawing from the thing, but for German
ideas you are still rich enough, and there is plenty of room for
activity at home."
"What are you proposing to me!" exclaimed Sandow, irritably.
"Just what you proposed to me when you called me here. I think the best
way is to turn the thing completely round. Look how Frida's face lights
up at the thought of home! Naturally she will never again leave her
father, wherever he may be, but it may be your lot to see her die of
home-sickness some day."
Gustave had cleverly set the most efficacious spring in motion. Sandow
gave a startled look at his daughter, whose eyes certainly beamed when
her home was mentioned, and who now resignedly drooped her head.
"Come, Jessie," said Gustave, taking the arm of his betrothed, "we will
leave them alone. I must explain all this to you, for I see that you
only half comprehend it, and besides I feel an urgent necessity to be
again admired by you. Yesterday you did me an extraordinary amount of
good."
He led her away, and father and daughter remained alone. Frida required
no explanation, he had long ago divined the circumstances, and clinging
close to her father, she said with the deepest affection--
"I knew very well when we were standing that time by the sea that you
could never send any one into misery!"
Sandow looked long and deeply into the dark eyes, which now beamed with
love and admiration. It was the first time he did so, without reading a
reproach in them, and he felt as if redeemed to a new life.
"No, my child!" said he softly, "I could not do it, and now whatever
may come, we will bear it together."
Meanwhile Gustave and Jessie strolled arm-in-arm through the garden,
but at first their talk was very serious. He told her all, screening
his brother as much as possible, whom he represented as the victim of a
deception which had only just become clear to him. When he had
finished, Jessie said eagerly--
"Gustave, even if my money had been mixed up with this, it is
unnecessary to say that we will leave it to the uncontrolled management
of your brother as long as he wants it."
"Your money has never been concerned in it," Gustave informed her.
"Whatever Frank may be as a speculator, as a guardian, he is
conscientiousness itself. He has respected your father's will to the
fullest extent. You are and remain still an heiress, Jessie, but in
spite of that uncomfortable peculiarity, I am resolved to marry you,
and in four weeks, too."
"That is impossible," protested Jessie. "There are so many things to
order and prepare. You must see yourself that the time is too short."
"I see nothing of the kind," declared Gustave. "The business part my
brother will arrange, everything can be settled within the time named.
In your America everything is done at express speed, speculation,
fortune-making, even living and dying. I do not find this custom
unpleasant since it can be extended even to marrying, and as your
future tyrant I require you to become my wife in four weeks."
Jessie did not appear to dread this tyranny too much, but after some
discussion she, smiling and blushing, consented, when her lover said--
"At least I can stand by my brother when the first storm breaks, and it
will not be long before it does. At the Consulate, of course, all the
particulars will be learnt, and by the evening they will have spread
through the whole town. That amiable agent, the admirer of my literary
fame, will first tear his hair, and then send telegram upon telegram to
New York. I wish I could see how Jenkins and Co. breathe fire and
flame, and wish me in the lowest depths of hell. With God's help I hope
to renew that pleasure whenever my articles appear. They shall learn to
know the pen they wished to buy."
"But do you think really that my guardian can release himself from
these obligations?" asked Jessie.
"He must, at any price! After the events of to-day there is no choice
left him, and he is business man enough to save all that is possible.
Jenkins will certainly make his life a misery to him, so much the
better! Then he will be obliged to turn his eyes towards Germany, and
we shall win him back. He will never return to his old fever for
speculation, and here there is so much temptation to it. The ice is now
broken, and Frida has so much of the charm of novelty about her that we
may confidently leave the rest to her. I pledge my word on it, in a few
years she will bring her father home to us!"
They had unconsciously reached the shore, and now stood by the bench
where Frida had sat on that memorable evening. Before them lay the sea,
bathed in sunshine.
Gustave pointed across it, while he put his arm round his future wife.
"There lies my native land, Jessie! In a few weeks it will also be your
home, as it was the home of your own mother, and as such you will learn
to love it. What my brother declared this morning may be true--that
here the intellectual field too, is wider and freer than with us, that
one rises more rapidly here, and wields a mightier power, even with the
pen. With us just now, our first duty is to hold high our flag in the
midst of the hottest fight, and to defend it with the whole strength of
our lives. But that I will do joyfully and with all my heart, and ask
no other reward than that my Jessie, my beloved wife, shall be
contented with her egoist."
THE END.
* * * * *
Printed by Remington & Co., 134, New Bond Street, W.