There was a lonely, desolate air about the Castle in these days.
Baroness Harder and her daughter had left for the capital, and if the
elder lady, with her caprices, her requiring temper, and other not very
amiable characteristics, was not painfully missed by the household, the
absence of the younger, who had won all hearts to herself, was
sincerely deplored. With her, sunshine had come into the house. During
the few short months of her stay there, she had filled the great sombre
spaces with light and animation, quickening and brightening their
lifeless splendour. During this period Raven himself had become so much
milder of mood, so much more accessible, that at times it was difficult
to recognise in him the severe, imperious master who never unbent, and
whose slightest words were as law. Now Gabrielle's rooms were closed
and darkened, and every one about the place, from the venerable
major-domo to the lowest housemaid, felt the void she had left behind.
Baron von Raven alone seemed insensible to the change; at least, he
never in any way alluded to it, and it was well known that he had
little time to give to his home or family affairs. All about him were
accustomed to see their master grave, taciturn, and unmoved by passing
events. Thus he still appeared, and yet every soul about the house knew
that a tempest was fast gathering over his head. It had long ceased to
be a secret.
There had been no renewal of the disturbances in the town during the
course of the last few weeks; and the Superintendent, with his staff of
police, had easily put down the slight ebullitions of feeling which
would now and then occur. The lower classes of the population had been
intimidated; to the more enlightened reflection had come. It was felt
that nothing would be achieved by violence. The Burgomaster used all
his influence to prevent a recurrence of the previous scenes.
Experience had taught him that in such a contest the reins would soon
slip from his hands, that the rougher, more dangerous elements forcing
themselves to the surface, the movement, legitimate in the outset,
would degenerate into a mere common rebellion against all law and
order. On either side a warning had been received, and it had borne
fruit. The struggle was not abandoned; it grew, on the contrary, in
force and intensity, though carried on in quieter fashion; and now the
city of R---- had the satisfaction of hearing that an echo of its
discontent had sounded in the capital, an echo which quickly spread
throughout the land. Winterfeld's pamphlet had produced a great
sensation, a far greater, indeed, than its author had ever reckoned on,
for it found acceptance in influential quarters, where no one, and
least of all the Assessor, would have expected it to be tolerated.
In these higher circles Raven was by no means beloved. A man who had
raised himself from the more modest ranks of the middle classes to one
of the highest offices of the State, he had naturally aroused against
himself the envy and ill-will of those whom he had overtaken and left
far behind him in the race; and his proud, imperious bearing, the
merciless contempt with which he exposed and thrust aside incapacity
and meanness, wheresoever placed, did not tend to increase his
popularity. Among his competitors there were but too many who viewed
the success he had achieved, the high position he now held, as a
robbery committed on themselves, an infringement of their own peculiar
privileges; who could not brook the haughty composure which never
deserted him, even in the presence of the most exalted personages, and
who were only waiting their opportunity to inflict on this _parvenu_
the humiliations which, in their opinion, he so richly deserved.
Hitherto their shafts had glanced harmlessly from the Baron's armour.
The Government had warmly supported him, had loaded him with
distinctions and honours, and had kept silence on the subject of his
arbitrary encroachments, which were perfectly well known to every man
in office. For this post of R----, the Ministers were in want of just
such a representative, of one who, like Raven, would with rigid
consistency and unsparing energy make his authority felt, and who would
keep in check the rebellious discontent which leavened the province.
The Governor had been indispensable, and this fact outweighed all other
considerations, and counteracted all the influences which were at work
against him.
But times had changed. During the last twelve months, especially, a
revolution of opinion had come about, which threatened to overturn the
present system. Some of its upholders, staunch hitherto, now tried to
trim their sails, and to steer with the new current; others prepared to
abdicate, and, with all outward honour and dignity, to retire from the
stage where their parts were played out. They had one and all, friends
and connections, who were of service to them in the crisis. Arno Raven
stood perfectly alone; and the dragon of spite he had provoked now
reared its head and turned its poisonous fangs against him.
At any other time, a pamphlet such as Winterfeld's would have been
instantly suppressed, and its author would have paid for his audacity
with the loss of his position; now the work, with its accusatory
eloquence, was eagerly turned to account--made to serve as an arm
against the object of their hatred; and the young official, who had
furnished the welcome opportunity, was raised to hero-rank. George's
name, altogether unknown but a little while before, was now in
everybody's mouth. He himself was sought, made much of, admired for his
courage in boldly speaking out that which, of course, every one had
known. People said the brochure was really admirably written, that it
evinced unusual knowledge and talent, and bore the stamp of a clear,
incorruptible judgment--and, indeed, the book was completely devoid of
the acrimony which would have lowered it to the level of a diatribe.
The Governor's great qualities were thoroughly recognised; anything
like a personal attack was carefully avoided. The entire accusation
rested on facts; but these facts were demonstrated with such clearness
and precision, and subjected to so incisive a criticism, that some
answer to the charges must, it was thought, necessarily follow.
To the R---- province and its chief town, these printed pages had been,
as the Burgomaster expressed it, as a spark in a powder-barrel; for
they gave form and substance to the universal feeling, setting it forth
in the most pointed and striking terms. The crippling fear, the dread
of the Governor's omnipotence, was shaken: it was seen that he was
assailable, vulnerable, like other mortals; and all the bitterness, so
long cherished against him, now broke out with tempestuous violence. No
one gave a thought to the benefits the town and province had reaped
from the Baron's vigorous administration. Not a voice was raised to
recall them to mind. Hatred of the despotic yoke, beneath which the
people had so long sighed, spoke loudly and alone; and, as often
happens in this world, those who had been bound to the Governor by
interest, and had ranked among his partisans, were, now that it could
be done with impunity, the first to cast a stone at him.
Most men, so situated, would have retired, have voluntarily vacated a
place it seemed now impossible to hold. A recommendation to resign was,
indeed half hinted to the Baron from the capital; but his pride
revolted against such a step. To yield, now that compulsion was being
tried--to flee, as it were, from his enemies, routed by their
denunciations and attacks, was out of the question. He knew that to go
at such a moment would be to recognise his defeat. To those half-hints
from the capital, he had, therefore, returned the haughty answer that
he had assuredly no intention of remaining at his post for any length
of time; but that, before relinquishing it, he would see the fight out,
overthrow his enemies, and silence their tongues, as he had done on
first coming to R----, when a similar storm had burst upon him--then he
would go, and not before. Perhaps the Baron would have shown himself
less obstinate, had the signal for the general onslaught been given by
any other than George Winterfeld. The thought of owing his fall to the
man whom of all men he most ardently hated, as standing between himself
and Gabrielle, made Raven desperate, and robbed him of his wonted
clearness of judgment.
It was, indeed, by no means certain, as yet, what the issue of the
struggle would be. As yet, the Baron stood firm, though the ground
beneath him heaved, and seemed to menace his fall. He could allege that
all he had done had been done with the full authorisation and support
of the Government; and the Ministers hesitated to abandon thus, at a
moment's notice, the man who had so long acted in their name. The
weakness and half-heartedness, which Raven had so often condemned,
again came to light. The attack upon him had been tolerated, secretly
favoured; but now that he unexpectedly stood his ground, they ventured
neither to give him up nor heartily to espouse his cause.
Public attention was so engrossed by this all-absorbing topic, that
other matters receded into the background. This was the case even with
the arrest of Dr. Brunnow, who was still confined in the R---- city
prison; though, on the first tidings of it, the event had been much
talked of, and had created a painful impression. It was known, of
course, that the law demanded the recapture of an escaped prisoner;
still, people thought it hard and cruel that a father who had hurried
to his son's sick-bed should atone for the step by years of captivity,
especially as so long a period had intervened since the original
sentence had been pronounced.
One forenoon, at rather an early hour, the Superintendent presented
himself in person at the prisoner's door. There was, however, nothing
official in his bearing or manner of salutation, which were simply
courteous and affable, as though nothing more than a mere ordinary call
were intended.
"I have come to announce to you a visit from your son, Doctor," he
began. "You have, I believe, been kept regularly informed as to his
state of health, and are aware that he is now well enough to undertake
the short drive without incurring any risk. He will be with you about
twelve o'clock. I could not refuse myself the gratification of bringing
you the news."
"You are most kind," replied Brunnow, politely, but laconically and
with visible reserve.
"I wished, at the same time, to assure myself that my instructions had
been duly carried out," continued the Superintendent. "I trust that
every alleviation has been afforded you of which a state of confinement
admits. Pray say if you have any complaint to make."
"Certainly not. On the contrary, I am curious to know to whom, or to
what, I owe the unwonted attention which has been paid to my comfort
since the first moment of my coming hither."
"Well, principally, no doubt, to the peculiar circumstances attending
your arrest. Respect is felt for a father's anxiety on his son's
behalf."
"Is that the sole reason, think you?" asked the Doctor, with a keen
glance at his visitor. "I know, from my previous experience of state
prisons, how little such personal considerations are taken into
account. My acquaintance with them has taught me another and a sadder
lesson."
"Things have changed," remarked the Superintendent, suavely, not
noticing the other's bitterness of tone. "Years have come and gone
since the time of which you speak, years which may react favourably on
your future fate."
"I knew what I risked in returning, and cherish no illusions as to my
fate," Brunnow answered, almost brusquely. "You have probably come to
prepare me for my removal to the citadel."
"You are mistaken. Nothing has as yet been decided with respect to a
change in your quarters. That surprises you? Well, it is strange,
certainly, that the decision should be so long delayed. I myself accept
it as of good augury. I should not like to awaken in you any premature
hopes, but it is, of course, possible that, having regard to the very
peculiar circumstances of your case, a pardon may be granted."
Brunnow looked up quickly.
"You think----"
"I can advance nothing beyond my own personal impression," the other
hastened to add. "But I think there is a favourable feeling towards you
in high places. Perhaps all may depend on your taking suitable steps
yourself. I am convinced that a petition for pardon would not be
rejected, could you bring yourself to present one."
"No," said Brunnow, with the absolute decision of one whose mind is
made up.
"Reflect, Doctor, your freedom may depend on it. One word from you
might, perhaps, turn the scale."
"No matter, I will not sue for mercy. That word would be a confession
of guilt I do not acknowledge; and for my liberty's sake even, I will
not abjure the principles which have guided me through life. They may
accord me a pardon or not, at their will. I will never appeal to them
to show clemency."
The Superintendent inwardly cursed "the old rebel's high-flown folly
and obstinacy." A petition for pardon would have smoothed the way for
the concession which it was resolved should now be made to public
opinion--unfortunately, he did not see his way to obtain it. Having
failed in the first part of his mission, the Superintendent passed to
the second division. Here, too, he naturally avoided speaking _ex
officio_, but maintained the same easy tone, pursuing, as it were, a
private conversation, innocent of all secret purpose.
"Well, that is a matter for your consideration alone," he returned;
"but you render it harder for your friends to help you, and most
unusual exertions are being made in your behalf."
"By whom?" asked the Doctor, in amazement. "I have no friends who
possess the smallest influence in Ministerial circles."
"You are better off in that respect than you suppose. Were you really
not aware that the Governor himself is leaving no stone unturned to
secure your pardon?"
"Arno Raven--indeed?" said Brunnow, slowly.
"Yes, Baron von Raven. It was he who, on hearing of your arrest,
enjoined on me that the greatest consideration should be shown you."
Brunnow was silent. The Superintendent, having waited in vain for a
reply, went on after a short pause:
"And he continues to interest himself for you. It is natural that the
fate of one who was his friend in early youth should touch him nearly."
The Doctor looked surprised.
"Is that known here already? His Excellency the Governor would hardly
be likely to mention it."
"Not he himself, certainly. You will easily conceive that a man in the
Baron's position cannot openly avow youthful connections which are
strangely at variance with the tendencies and principles he has always
professed."
"With the principles he has professed in later years, you mean,"
Brunnow's voice rang out sharp and scornful. "His earlier tendencies
were more in harmony with the connections of which you speak."
"You are not prepared to assert, I suppose, that Herr von Raven knew
anything of the political vagaries for which you were indicted?" asked
the Superintendent, with a smile which was intended to irritate, and
fulfilled its purpose. Brunnow began to grow excited.
"I do not merely assert that he knew of them, but that he shared our
views to the fullest extent," he replied hastily.
"Yes, I remember, he was suspected at the time," remarked the other,
with the same incredulous smile. "But that was calumny, nothing else.
The Baron must have cleared himself fully and entirely, for he was set
at liberty, and was even accorded, as an indemnity for the imprisonment
he had wrongfully undergone, the post of secretary to the Minister then
at the head of the Government."
"It was the price of his treachery," broke out the Doctor, who had no
suspicion that he was being systematically goaded on to greater anger
and bitterness, and who could no longer restrain himself. "It was the
first rung of the ladder by which he has mounted to his present
eminence. He bought his advancement with his friends' ruin, with the
sacrifice of his convictions and his honour."
"Doctor, Doctor, moderate your language," counselled the police-agent,
roused, apparently, to indignation. "This is a terrible accusation
which you are bringing against the Governor. There must be an error
here, or a misstatement of facts."
"A misstatement!" cried Brunnow, with a fiery outburst of passion. "I
tell you it is the truth, sir--but you naturally believe the Baron von
Raven to be incapable of such conduct. You prefer to look on me as a
liar, a slanderer."
"I did not wish to suggest anything of the kind, but I must say I
seriously doubt whether you would care to repeat the speech you have
just made in the presence of others."
"I would, if necessary, repeat it before the whole world. I would cast
it in Raven's teeth again, as I have once already----" Brunnow stopped
suddenly. The over-eager expression on his listener's face struck him,
and told him to reflect. He did not finish his sentence, but turned
away with a wrathful, impatient movement.
"You were saying----" prompted the Superintendent.
"Nothing--nothing at all," was the stubborn reply.
"I really do not understand you. If the matter stands as you have put
it, you have no reason whatever to wish to spare the Governor."
"I do not wish to spare him," said Brunnow, sternly. "But I will not
turn informer against the man I once named friend. If I had desired to
use those weapons against him, I could have done so long ago. My shafts
would strike more surely, and with deadlier aim, than any in a
Winterfeld's quiver, for mine are steeped in poison--the very reason
which would prevent my using them."
"These are noble sentiments, very noble sentiments, no doubt, but I
think----"
"Pray do not let us pursue the subject further!" the Doctor
interrupted. "Why drag these long-forgotten matters before the light of
day? Let the buried past rest in its grave."
This sudden diversion was, certainly, not to the Superintendent's
taste. He would willingly have continued the conversation, but he saw
that he should get nothing more out of the prisoner. After all, his
main object was achieved. He knew now what he had wished to know: he
therefore brought himself, without too violent an effort, to speak of
other things, and after chatting a while on general topics, took his
leave. Brunnow looked after him uneasily, as he went.
"Did he come here merely to induce me to send in a petition, or was I
being cross-questioned on Raven's account? I almost fear so. That
police-fellow's eager attention and desire to hear more looked
suspicious. I wish I had not let myself be led away to speak so openly
before him."