Clear the Track! Part 22

"I have not heard a word of it."

"Then you hear it now. At all events we regret that we cannot accept the invitation."

This declaration was made so positively, that any further discussion was precluded. Victor was silent, but the strangely cool tone struck him as well as the formal manner in which he was addressed, as Dernburg had always been in the habit of calling him by his first name. The young man's glance was involuntarily directed towards Wildenrod, as though he suspected he had been exerting some malign influence over his friend.

Such thoughts, however, are not apt to disturb young people for any length of time. Maia, with her merry talk, soon had the ball of conversation flying again, although Eric responded only in monosyllables and was as absent-minded as possible. He allowed himself, however, to be drawn by the other two into the conservatory, where two new orchids had just come into bloom.

On the terrace, silence reigned for a few minutes, then the Baron said in a m.u.f.fled voice: "I should be sorry, if my report of the young count had injured him in your eyes, but circ.u.mstanced as we now are, I felt it to be my duty to speak."

Dernburg nodded approvingly. "Certainly, I thank you for it. As for the rest, I am not accustomed to condemn anybody upon the strength of mere gossip, but I shall find means to come at the truth in regard to the matter."

"Do so," said Wildenrod, with quiet a.s.surance. "But as to Maia's too great youth, girls in our society often marry at that age, and if a man really engages her affections----"

"Engages in the pursuit of a rich heiress, forsooth, in order to settle up his affairs," remarked Dernburg with a bitterness which showed that the report had had its effect, nevertheless. "I shall guard my child against such a fate as that."

"It will not be easy to do, for a suitor must come forward who is free and independent, besides being rich enough himself to be exalted above the suspicion of interested motives. All others will have their eye upon your millions."

These words were thrown off with a certain premeditation, but Dernburg did not observe this.

"Not all!" said he, with emphasis. "I know one who's poor and possesses nothing but his brains--they count for much, though, and guarantee him a future. The path to wealth and independence was pointed out to him, all that he had to do was to stretch forth his hand, but in order to do this he had to sacrifice principle, and he did not go that way."

Oscar started, an uncomfortable suspicion being aroused in his mind.

"Of whom are you speaking?"

"Of Egbert Runeck! Are you so much surprised. I have long since perceived that Eric would never be able, alone, to superintend at Odensburg, as must, some day, be his place to do--a man of my stamp is needed for that, and such an one is Egbert, who has not been brought up in my school for naught. But in Berlin, they caught him so fast in their Socialistic toils, that I almost despair of ever getting him loose."

"Have you really tried that, in spite of knowing--?"

"In spite of knowing everything--yes, I did, because I am convinced that some day his eyes will be opened--if it is only not too late for both of us."

Wildenrod's lips were tightly compressed, as though he wanted to force back an angry rejoinder, at last he said slowly: "Herr Dernburg, for the first time, I do not understand you."

"Maybe so, but you can always trust to this, that I shall not be the one to throw a firebrand into my Odensburg, with my own hand. If Egbert continues obstinate in his present convictions, then all is over between me and him. But he will not do so. Free course in life is what he needs, he will struggle and strive upward at any price: but also build up, create and finally be ruler over that which he has created.

Such natures bend not lastingly under the yoke of a party that claims blind obedience, allowing no scope to individuality, no mighty preponderance of the single mind. I am only afraid that he will come to his senses after he has thrust his happiness far from him. I offered it to him--but he sacrificed it to his mad fancies!"

The Baron must already stand very high in his future connection's good graces, for him to speak to him thus of things that he had not even broached to his son; but Oscar did not seem to be pleasantly affected by this proof of confidence. A threatening cloud was upon his brow, and a yet more threatening fire flashed from his eyes, as he said with a voice almost stifled by pa.s.sion: "You overestimate your favorite greatly. But, never mind--you seem to hint at something--" he broke off.

"What then, Herr von Wildenrod?"

"I would do better not to express it, since it involves a sheer impossibility."

"Why so?" asked Dernburg irritably.

"Because Egbert is the son of a common laborer? His parents are dead, but even if they were living----"

"I am above such prejudices."

Wildenrod was silent, he did not look at the speaker but away over at the works. There was a disagreeable look upon his face.

"You are of a different opinion on that point, I see," began Dernburg again. "In you stir the feelings of the aristocrat, to whom such a thing appears unheard of. I think differently. I let Eric choose upon his own responsibility, but I shall have to stand sponsor for my daughter's happiness. My little Maia,"--the voice of the man usually so stern had a strangely tender intonation,--"she was given to me late, but she is the suns.h.i.+ne of my life. How often have the merry tones of her clear young voice and the light of her bright eyes lifted me out of despondency. She is not to be the prey of the fortune-hunter. She shall be beloved and happy--and so far I know only one person into whose hands I could commit her future without solicitude, for I am convinced that he loves her. He is not calculating, he has proved that to me!"

A peculiar pallor lay upon the Baron's face. Was it anger or shame that palpitated in his soul at those last words? At all events he was spared any answer, for at this moment a servant entered with the announcement that the director was in the work-room and wanted to speak with the master.

"On Sunday? It must be about something very important!" said Dernburg, as he turned to go. "But one thing more, Herr von Wildenrod--do not let what we just talked about go any farther than ourselves. Consider it as confidential."

He went into the house, leaving Oscar alone. Now he knew that he was un.o.bserved, and his brow resembled a threatening thunder-cloud, as he leaned with folded arms on the parapet of the terrace. Here was a danger that he had not apprehended, and with which he had never calculated upon having to cope, but in contrast with which the looming up of Count Eckardstein, that had just now appeared to him so menacing, faded away to a mere shadow. Dernburg evidently had settled it in his own mind that an attachment existed between his daughter and that Runeck, the simpleton, who had sacrificed the high prize offered him to a mere chimera,--that so-called conviction. About Wildenrod's lips now played a scornful smile of conscious superiority. He knew better to whom Maia's love was given, he felt himself equal to the conquest of this new adversary also. And there must be no more delay and no more pausing to reflect, the thing was to act! Oscar drew himself up with a determined air, it was not the first time in his life, that he had played _va banque_, and here the stake was happiness and a future that promised him everything.

At the end of the extended grounds of Odensburg, where they bordered on the wooded mountain, lay the "Rose Lake," a small sheet of water, that took its name from the water-roses, with which its surface was covered in summer. Now, indeed, none of the white blossoms had opened, only the whispering reeds and sedge-gra.s.s edged its sh.o.r.es; a huge beech-tree stretched its branches over it, with its foliage of fresh and tender green, and a dense thicket of blooming shrubbery fenced it in on all sides. It was a snug and quiet retreat, made, as it were, for solitary dreams.

Upon a bench beneath the beech-tree sat Maia, her hands full of flowers that she had plucked on her way, and now wanted to arrange. But this task was not accomplished, for by her sat Oscar von Wildenrod, who had accidentally sought the same spot, and managed to fascinate her so by his conversational powers, that she forgot flowers and everything else in her absorption.

He spoke of his travels at the North and South, there was hardly a land in Europe that he was not acquainted with, and he was a masterly narrator. His descriptions shaped themselves into pictures, in which landscapes, people and events came forth as though living before the listener. Maia followed him in his narrative with breathless sympathy, it all sounded so strange and unreal to her, whose world had hitherto been confined to the family circle.

"Oh! what have you not seen and experienced!" cried she admiringly.

"What an entirely different sphere you moved in before you came to us at Odensburg!"

"Another, but not a better one," said Wildenrod earnestly. "It has, indeed, something blinding and intoxicating--this living in boundless freedom, with its perpetual change and fullness of impressions, and it blinded me, too, once upon a time, but that has long since past. There comes a day when one awakens from his intoxication, when one feels how hollow and empty and vain all this is, when one finds himself alone in that concourse of men and in that longed-for freedom--quite alone."

"But you have your sister!" Maia put in reproachfully.

"How long, though! In a few months she deserts me to belong to her husband, and I have a regular horror of going back to that empty and aimless existence. You have no idea, Maia, how I envy your father. He stands firmly and surely upon the foundation of his own labor and its results; to thousands he gives bread, and the blessings, love and admiration of all compa.s.s him about, and will follow him to the grave.

When I sum up the results of my life--what is the remainder?"

Perplexed, almost shocked, Maia looked up at him who had uttered these bitter words. It was the first time that Wildenrod had adopted such a tone in her presence; she knew him as the brilliant man of the world, who, even when he approached her confidentially, always maintained the character of the elderly man, who conversed half-jocularly with the half-grown girl. To-day he spoke very differently, to-day he had let her have a glimpse of his inner life, and that overcame her shyness. "I have always thought that you were happy in that life, which seems lovely as a fairy-dream, when you tell about it," said she softly.

"Happy!" repeated he gloomily. "No, Maia, I have never been so, not for a day, nor for an hour."

"Yes, but--why did you lead that life so long?"

Oscar looked into those clear child-eyes, that looked up at him with earnest questioning in their depths, and involuntarily his eyes sought the ground.

"Why? Yes, why does one live at all? To win that happiness, of which they sing to us while we are still in our cradles, and of which we think in youth that it lies out in the wide world, in the dim blue distance. Restlessly, feverishly, we pursue it, ever thinking to attain to it, while it retreats farther and farther from us, until at last it fades away like a shadow until finally we give up the restless chase--and with it hope."

In spite of his strong effort to command himself, the disquiet of a tortured spirit was but only too transparent in these words, that had the ring of perfect sincerity. None knew better than Oscar Wildenrod what was that wild chase after happiness, which he had sought all these years--by what paths, indeed, he alone knew.

That woful confession sounded strange in these surroundings, at this season of spring, when everything breathed only beauty and peace.

Bright lay the suns.h.i.+ne upon the mirror of the little lake, over which the dragon-flies were hovering dreamily, with their gay-colored, scintillating wings. Golden rays stole through the young leaves of the beech and played in the tender May-green. Round about bloomed the lilac, filling the air with its fragrance, varied by clumps of the yellow laburnum, covered with its rich freight of pendant cl.u.s.ters of bloom, and the lower shrubbery was strewn over, as it were, with wild hedge-roses. There was no end to the blooms, and in the background rose a distant chain of blue mountains, gravely taking a look into this little sunny paradise.

Wildenrod's chest heaved with his deep and heavy breathing; it seemed as though he wanted to inhale the peace and purity of his environment.

Then he looked upon the young being at his side, upon the innocent, rosy countenance, that was so untouched by the slightest breath of that life which he had drunk of to its very dregs. But the brown eyes that were now fixed upon him were swimming in tears, and a low, quivering voice said:

"All that you have just been saying sounds so hard, so desperate. Do you really believe no longer in any happiness?"

"Oh, yes, now I believe in it!" cried Oscar with enthusiasm. "Here at Odensburg, I have learned again to hope. It is the old story of the jewel that one goes out into the world to look for, in a thousand ways, meanwhile it rests hidden in the deep and silent woods, until the happy man draws near, who finds it--and perhaps I am such a lucky fellow!"

He had caught the young girl's hand and clasped it firmly in his own.

With sudden force, Maia recognized in these words, this movement, what had hitherto been but a dim, half-understood impression resting in her soul; there sprang up within her a sweet sense of joy and yet, at the same time, again came that mysterious, uneasy sensation, which she had experienced already at their first meeting, the dread of that dark, flaming glance, which seemed to magnetize her, as it were. Her hand trembled in that of the Baron.