Winter had come in all its bitter severity. Woods and fields lay
shrouded in a thick white pall of snow, the flow of the river was
stopped by a strong coating of ice, and over the frozen earth the
wintry storms howled and blustered, benumbing all with their icy
breath.
Another storm had been roused by them which raged more wildly than the
elements. Over the frontier the long-dreaded revolt had broken out. The
whole neighbouring country blazed with revolutionary fire, and each day
brought its own fearful tidings. On this side the land was quiet as
yet, and it seemed as though the quiet would be maintained; but
peaceful the temper of that border-district could hardly be, for a
thousand ties and connections bound it to the struggling province, and
hardly a Polish family lived in those parts which had not at least one
of its members in the ranks of the combatants.
Wilicza suffered most severely of all from this state of things. Its
position made it one of the most important, but also one of the most
dangerous outposts of the whole province. Not on light grounds had it
been chosen to play so conspicuous a part in the plans of the Morynski
and Baratowski faction. The Nordeck domain offered the most convenient
connecting point with the insurrection, the surest retreat in case of
contests near the frontier, while it was too densely wooded to allow of
the strict supervision which had been prescribed being kept up
throughout its whole extent, in spite of the numerous posts and
patrols. Much had been changed, certainly, since the young proprietor
had, on that memorable occasion shortly before the departure of Leo and
Morynski, ranged himself so decidedly on the side of his countrymen;
but from that hour a silent, bitter struggle had set in between him and
his mother, a struggle which had not even yet come to an end.
The Princess was true to her word. She yielded to him not an inch of
the ground to which she conceived she had a right, and Waldemar at last
began to realise all the consequences of his own negligence in leaving
his estates for years in her hands. If such negligence and indifference
were ever to be atoned for, he atoned for them now.
He had achieved this--that his castle should no longer be made the
centre of party intrigues; but he could not clear his whole domain in
like manner, for its allegiance had been systematically alienated from
him. The unbounded authority so long exercised by the Princess, the
complete expulsion of the German element from the administration, the
appointment of Polish functionaries to every post of any importance,
all this now bore its fruits. Nordeck was indeed, as he had said, sold
and betrayed on his own soil. The title of master was accorded him, but
his mother was looked on as mistress in point of fact. Though she was
careful not to appear openly in this light, her orders were transmitted
to her underlings and instantly obeyed, while all Wilicza banded itself
together in secret but determined opposition to those given by
Waldemar. All possible intrigues and expedients were busily employed to
thwart him; all that could be done to evade his orders, to counteract
his measures, was done, but invariably in a way which eluded detection
and punishment. No one refused him obedience in so many words; and yet
he knew that "war and resistance" was the order daily issued against
him. When in one place he compelled submission, rebellion raised its
hydra-head in twenty others; and if one day he carried his point, on
the next fresh obstacles stood in his path. He could not meet the
difficulty by discharging all the disaffected; he must have parted with
the whole staff of his officials. In some cases he was bound by
agreements, in others he would have found it impossible to replace the
men, and at the present time any arbitrary act might have been fraught
with disaster. So the young master of Wilicza was forced into a
position which was of all the hardest for him to bear, in that it gave
no scope to his energy, but demanded only quiet, deliberate
perseverance in a course once marked out; and this was the very basis
on which the Princess had built her plan. Waldemar should weary of the
strife. He should learn to know that his power could avail nothing in a
matter wherein all Wilicza was leagued together for her, and against
him. In his anger and vexation of spirit he should let fall the reins
which he had so forcibly withdrawn from her hands. Patience had never
been his forte. But once again she deceived herself in her estimate of
her son. He now gave proof of that tenacity of purpose, that inflexible
will which she was wont to consider as exclusively _her_
characteristic. Not once did he recoil before the obstacles and
annoyances she heaped up in his path; one by one he overcame them. His
eye and hand were everywhere; and if, on a rare occasion, obedience was
actually refused him, he then proclaimed himself the master in such a
way that the first attempt would also be the last. This conduct
certainly did not win for him the affection of his subordinates. If
formerly they had only hated the German in him, they now hated Waldemar
Nordeck personally; but already they had learned to fear, and gradually
they grew to obey. Under existing circumstances fear was the one
stimulus which might yet extort compliance.
The relations between mother and son became in this way more and more
hostile, the situation more untenable, though the same outward forms of
cool politeness were preserved. That first explanation between them had
been the only one. They were neither of them given to many useless
words, and both felt that there could be no question of reconciliation
or agreement where character and principles were so thoroughly opposed
as was here the case. Waldemar never attempted to call his mother to
account; he knew she would admit nothing of the man[oe]uvres which yet
incontestably proceeded from her, and she on her side proffered no
question relating to these matters. Life under the same roof was
therefore possible, and, viewed from without, even tolerable. Its
stings and mortifications were known but to the two concerned. Waldemar
wrapped himself in a still more impenetrable reserve. He saw his mother
only at table, and often not even there. The Princess, too, would
frequently absent herself, going over to Rakowicz to see her niece, and
staying away a considerable time. Wanda had kept her word. She had not
again set foot in Wilicza, whilst Waldemar in his expeditions avoided
even the part of the country in which her father's property lay.
More than three months had elapsed since Count Morynski and his nephew
had left. It was generally known that they were in the thick of the
strife, that the Count was playing an important part in the
insurrection, and that young Prince Baratowski had been appointed to a
command under his uncle. In spite of distance and difficulties, they
were both in uninterrupted communication with their friends. The
Princess, and Wanda also, received exact and detailed accounts of all
that happened beyond the frontier, and constantly despatched messages
to the scene of action themselves. The readiness with which every one
in those border-districts undertook the office of messenger, laughed
all obstacles to scorn.
It was about noon on a rather cold day when Assessor Hubert and Dr.
Fabian walked back together from the village where they had met. The
Assessor was fairly swaddled in wraps. He knew by his Janowo experience
the unpleasant consequences of catching cold. The Doctor, too, had put
up the collar of his cloak as a protection against the wintry weather.
The severe climate did not appear to suit him. He looked paler than
usual, and seemed worn and fatigued. Hubert, on the other hand, was
beaming with cheerfulness and satisfaction. The events now happening on
the frontier took him very often to Wilicza, or its neighbourhood. On
this occasion he was about to conduct an inquiry which would detain him
several days in these parts; as usual he had taken up his quarters at
the steward's house, and his radiant air of contentment showed that he
found them to his liking.
"It is splendid, sir," he was saying in his solemn official tones; "I
tell you, Herr Nordeck's present conduct is splendid. We Government men
best know how to appreciate it. The President is of opinion that this
cursed Wilicza would long ago have set the example of revolt here, if
its master had not stood like a wall and a rampart, holding it back. He
has the admiration of all L----, the more so that no one ever expected
he would one day show himself in these colours."
Dr. Fabian sighed. "I wished he deserved your admiration somewhat less.
It is precisely the energy he shows which draws down more hatred on him
day by day. I tremble each time Waldemar rides out alone, and there is
no persuading him to take even the simplest precautions."
"True," said the Assessor, gravely. "The people here at Wilicza are
capable of anything, even of lying in ambush to get a shot at their
enemy unawares. I believe the only thing which has protected Herr
Nordeck hitherto has been the fact that, in spite of everything, he is
the Princess Baratowska's son; but who knows how long, with their
national fanaticism, they will respect even such a consideration as
that! What a life it must be for you all up at the Castle! No one can
make out why the Princess remains. It is well known that she is heart
and soul with the Polish cause. There must have been some terrible
scenes between her and her son, eh?"
"Excuse me, Herr Assessor, these are family affairs," replied Fabian,
evading the question.
"I understand your discretion," said Hubert, who was burning with
curiosity to learn something that he could relate on his return to
L----, where people busied themselves now more than ever with the owner
of Wilicza and his mother; "but you have no idea what terrible stories
are going the round of the town. They say that, at that time when Herr
Nordeck declared himself so decidedly for us, he had come upon and
dispersed a meeting of conspirators, who held their conferences in the
underground vaults of his Castle under the presidency of Count Morynski
and the young Prince Baratowski. When the Princess would have
interfered, her son, they say, placed a pistol at her breast; she flung
her curse at him, and then they both ..."
"How can people in L---- believe such nonsense!" cried the Doctor,
indignantly. "I give you my word that no such outrageous scene has ever
taken place between Waldemar and his mother--it would be contrary to
their natures; no, far from that, they are on very--very polite terms."
"Really?" asked the Assessor, incredulously. He was evidently reluctant
to give up the tale of the pistol and the curse--it suited his romantic
fancy far better than this tame explanation. "But the conspiracy did
exist," he added, "and Herr Nordeck did put the traitors to flight--he
alone against two hundred! Ah, if I had only been there! I was over at
Janowo, where I unfortunately failed to make any discovery. Fraeulein
Margaret is generally so clever, I cannot think how she could have been
so mistaken--for we know now that the secret stores of arms were hidden
at Wilicza, though Herr Nordeck can never be brought to admit it."
The Doctor was silent, and looked greatly embarrassed. The mention of
Janowo always flurried him. Fortunately, they had now reached the spot
where the road to the Castle branched off. Fabian took leave of his
companion, and the latter pursued his way alone to the manor-farm.
Meanwhile an interview was there being held between the steward and his
daughter, which at one time threatened to take a stormy turn. Gretchen,
at any rate, had assumed a most warlike attitude. She stood before her
father with her arms folded, her head with its fair crown of plaits
defiantly thrown back, and as she spoke, she even stamped her little
foot on the ground, in order to give more emphasis to her words.
"I tell you, papa, I don't like the Assessor, and if he chooses to come
languishing about me six months longer, and you speak up for him ever
so much, I'll not be forced into saying Yes."
"But, child, nobody wants to force you," said her father, soothingly.
"You know that you are quite free to do as you like; but the matter
must be spoken of and settled at last, one way or the other. If you
persist in saying no, you must not encourage Hubert any further."
"I do not encourage him!" cried Gretchen, almost crying with vexation.
"On the contrary, I treat him abominably; but it is all of no use. Ever
since that unlucky time when I nursed him for his cold, he has been
firmly persuaded that I return his affection. If I were to refuse him
to-day, he would smile and reply, 'You are mistaken, Fraeulein; you do
love me,' and he would be at me again tomorrow."
Frank took his daughter's hand, and drew her nearer to him. "Gretchen,
be a good girl, and tell me what it is you object to in the Assessor.
He is young, tolerably good-looking, not without means, and he can
offer you a social position which has considerable advantages. I admit
that he has some absurd little eccentricities; but a sensible wife
would soon make something of him. The main point is that he is head
over ears in love with you, and you did not look on him with such
unfavourable eyes at first. What has set you so against him just of
late?"
Gretchen made no answer to this question, it seemed to embarrass her a
little; but she soon recovered herself.
"I don't love him," she declared with great decision. "I don't want
him, and I won't have him."
In face of this categorical refusal, her father had no resource but to
shrug his shoulders and turn away--which he did.
"Well, as you like," he said, a little annoyed. "Then I will tell the
Assessor the plain truth before he leaves us. I will wait until he is
going away; perhaps you will think better of it by that time."
The young lady looked most disdainful at such inconsistency being
ascribed to her. The thought that she had just destroyed all the
Assessor's chances of earthly happiness did not appear to disturb her
equanimity in the least; she sat down calmly to her work-table, took up
a book, and began to read.
The steward paced up and down the room, still with a shade of annoyance
on his face; at last he stopped before his daughter.
"What is that great thick volume which I see now constantly in your
hands? A grammar, I suppose. Are you studying French so zealously?"
"No, papa," replied Gretchen. "Grammars are a great deal too tiresome
for me to take one in hand so often. I am studying"--she laid her hand
solemnly on the book--"I am at present studying the 'History of
Teutonism.'"
"The history of what?" asked the steward, who could not believe his
ears.
"'The History of Teutonism,'" repeated his daughter, with infinite
self-complacency. "A book of rare merit, of the most profound
erudition. Would you like to read it? Here is the first volume."
"Don't bother me with your Teutonism," cried Frank. "I have enough to
do with Slavs and Slavism; but how did you get hold of this learned
stuff? Through Dr. Fabian, no doubt. This is all quite against the
agreement. He promised to give you some practice in French; instead of
that he brings you old rubbish out of his library, of which you don't
understand a single word."
"I understand it all," said the girl, much offended, "and it is no old
rubbish, but quite a new book which Dr. Fabian has written himself. It
has made a wonderful sensation in the literary world, and two of our
greatest scientific men, Professor Weber and Professor Schwarz, are at
daggers drawn about it and about the new celebrity just rising into
fame, that is, the Doctor; but you'll see, papa, he will be greater
than both of them put together."
"Schwarz?" said the steward, reflectively. "That is our Assessor's
famous uncle at the University of J----. Well, Dr. Fabian may think
himself lucky if such an authority condescends to take notice of his
book."
"Professor Schwarz knows nothing about it," declared Gretchen, to her
father's amazement, delivering her verdict with the assurance of an
academical judge. "He will get himself into a scrape with his criticism
of Dr. Fabian's book, just as the Assessor did with his attempt to
arrest Herr Nordeck. Naturally enough--they are uncle and nephew--it is
the way of the family!"
The steward began to take a more serious view of the matter in
question. He looked at his daughter attentively.
"You are as well versed as any student in these university stories. You
appear to enjoy Dr. Fabian's unlimited confidence."
"So I do," assented Gretchen; "but you have no idea what a deal of
trouble it cost me to bring him to it. He is so shy and reserved,
although he is such a remarkably clever man. I have had to worm it all
out of him, word by word. He would not hear of giving me his book at
first; but I grew angry, and I should like to see him refuse me
anything when I look cross at him!"
"I tell you what, child, the Assessor did a very stupid thing when he
brought about these French lessons," broke out Frank. "This quiet, pale
Doctor, with his soft voice and timid ways, has fairly bewitched you,
and he is the sole cause of the ill-treatment you bestow on poor
Hubert. You are not going to be foolish, I hope. The Doctor is nothing
but an ex-tutor who lives on with his former pupil, and receives a
pension from him. If he writes learned works the while, it may be an
amusement for him; but such an occupation brings in no money to speak
of, certainly not an assured income. Fortunately, he is too shy, and
too sensible, I trust, to build any hopes on your fancy for him; but I
consider it better that the French studies should be put a stop to at
once. I will try and manage it without giving offence. If you, who have
hardly patience to read through a novel, are now studying the 'History
of Teutonism,' and growing enthusiastic over it merely because Dr.
Fabian is the author, the matter looks to me serious."
His daughter tossed her head impatiently at this paternal reprimand,
and was about to put forward an emphatic protest, when the inspector
came in with a message. Frank left the room with him, and Fraeulein
Margaret remained behind in a very ill-humour. Assessor Hubert could
have chosen no worse time to make his appearance; but, as usual, his
unlucky star brought him in now at the wrong moment. He was, as ever,
attention and affability itself; but the object of his wishes proved to
be in so ungracious a frame of mind that he could not refrain from
noticing it.
"You seem out of humour, Fraeulein Margaret," he began after several
vain attempts to engage her in conversation. "May one know the reason?"
"It makes me wild to think that it is just the cleverest men who are
shy and have no self-confidence," exclaimed Gretchen, whose thoughts
were far away.
The Assessor's face brightened at these words. "Cleverest men--shy--no
self-confidence." True, he had paused that day when about to fall on
his knees before her, and up to the present time had not succeeded in
making the declaration which was expected from him. No doubt, the young
lady herself was chiefly to blame for the delay; yet she was evidently
vexed that he should show so little self-confidence. This must be
repaired without loss of time. No hint could have been plainer.
Gretchen had hardly spoken when she saw what she had done with her
imprudent words, which Hubert naturally applied to himself. She put her
'History of Teutonism' speedily away in safety from him, for the Doctor
had made her promise not to betray him to the nephew of his literary
foe, and resolved on repairing her hasty error by behaving as rudely as
possible.
"You need not keep looking at me with the eye of a detective, Herr
Assessor," said she. "I am not a conspirator, and conspiracies are the
only things in the world which interest you."
"Fraeulein," replied the Assessor, with dignity, and also with a touch
of wounded feeling, for he was conscious that his glance had not been
keen as that of a detective, but languishing rather as a lover's, "you
reproach me with my zeal in the discharge of my duties, while I myself
am inclined to make a merit of that very quality. On us officials rests
the whole responsibility for the order and security of the State. To us
thousands owe it that they can lay down their heads in peace; without
us ..."
"Oh, if our safety depended upon you, we should all have been murdered
long ago here at Wilicza," interrupted the girl. "It is lucky we have
Herr Nordeck to look after us. He is better able to keep order than the
whole police department of L----."
"Herr Nordeck appears to enjoy an extraordinary amount of admiration
everywhere now," remarked Hubert, in a tone of pique. "You share in it
too?"
"Oh, certainly, I share in it," assented Gretchen. "I am extremely
sorry to tell you that my admiration is given to Herr Nordeck, and to
no other."
She cast a look of most pointed meaning at the Assessor, but he only
smiled.
"Ah, that other would never lay claim to so cold and distant a
sentiment as admiration," he protested. "He hopes to awaken far
different emotions in a kindred soul."
Gretchen saw that rudeness availed her nothing. Hubert was steering
steadily, perseveringly, straight ahead towards a declaration. The
girl, however, had no wish to listen to him; it was disagreeable to her
to have to say No, so she struck in with the first question which came
into her mind.
"You have not told me anything of your famous uncle in J---- for a long
time. What is he about now?"
The Assessor, who saw in this question a proof of her interest in his
family affairs, entered promptly into the subject.
"My poor uncle has had much vexation and worry of late," he replied.
"There exists at the University a party of opposition--what truly great
man has not his enemies?--at the head of which stands Professor Weber.
This gentleman lays himself out to gain popularity, and the students
entertain a blind predilection for him. Every one vaunts his amiable
character, and my uncle, who disdains such artifices and cares nothing
for public opinion, meets with enmity and ill-will on every side. Just
now the opposition party, for no other purpose than to spite him, are
crying up some obscure person who has just published his first work;
they have even the audacity to declare that this novice's book is
superior to Schwarz's writings on Teutonism."
"Impossible!" said Gretchen. "Superior to my uncle's writings,"
repeated the Assessor, with generous indignation. "I do not know the
author's name, nor the circumstances of the case--my uncle is not fond
of going into details in his letters--but the matter has vexed him to
such a degree, and his dispute with Professor Weber has assumed such
proportions, that he has thought fit to tender his resignation. It is,
of course, nothing but a menace; they would never let him go--the
University would suffer far too great a loss by his withdrawal--but he
considers it necessary to put some pressure on the personages in
question."
"I wish it Would take effect," said Gretchen, with such a wrathful
expression that Hubert drew back a step in his surprise, only to
advance two the next minute, however.
"It makes me very happy to see you take such an interest in my uncle's
welfare. He, too, is already most kindly disposed towards you. I have
often mentioned in my letters the family at whose house I find so
hospitable a welcome, and he would be delighted to hear that I was to
be connected ..."
He had got so far on the road again, when the girl jumped up in
desperation, ran to the open piano, and began to play; but she
undervalued her suitor's persistency. Next moment he was at her side,
listening to her.
"Ah, the 'Longings of the Heart' waltzes, my favourite piece. Yes,
music is the language which best renders the feelings of the soul; is
it not so, Fraeulein Margaret?"
Fraeulein Margaret thought that to-day everything had conspired together
against her. This was, as it happened, the only piece she knew by
heart, and she dared not get up and run to fetch her notes, for the
Assessor's looks plainly said that he was only waiting for a pause in
her performance to give vent to the feelings of his soul in words. So
the 'Longings of the Heart' waltzes raged over the piano to the time of
a galop. The noise was fearful, and a string broke; but no matter, such
a din must drown any love declaration.
"Ought this to be fortissimo, do you think?" Hubert ventured to remark.
"I always fancied the piece should be played in a soft, melting piano."
"I play it fortissimo," declared Gretchen, and banged on the notes so
violently that the second string broke.
The Assessor was growing rather nervous. "You will spoil this beautiful
instrument," said he, making himself heard with difficulty.
"What are pianos in the world for?" cried Gretchen; and, seeing that
the musical uproar was disagreeable to the Assessor, she raised it to
an almost incredible pitch, and deliberately sacrificed a third string.
At last her strategy succeeded. Hubert saw that he would not be allowed
to speak to-day, and beat a retreat, a little annoyed, but with
unshaken confidence. The young lady had nursed him with such touching
care when he was ill with his cold, and to-day she had spoken of
him as a remarkably clever man, and had reproached him with lacking
self-confidence. True, her waywardness defied all calculation; but she
loved him nevertheless.
When he had gone, Gretchen stood up and shut the piano. "Three strings
broken!" said she, dolefully, but yet with a certain satisfaction;
"never mind, I have managed once more to keep him from making his
offer. Now papa may settle the rest." With that she sat down at her
work-table once more, brought out her book, and plunged anew into the
'History of Teutonism!'