Clear the Track! Part 24

"Then you acceded to his proposition!" Dernburg's voice had a harsh, contemptuous intonation. "I understand that perfectly; but you, on your side, will also understand that I am not willing to give my daughter as a prize in a financial operation."

The color came and went in the young man's face, but at the last word he sprang to his feet with a half-suppressed shriek, and shook his fist in the face of the elder man, who looked at him steadily.

"To what end is this, Count Eckardstein? Will you challenge me to a duel because I undertake to tell you my view of this matter? A man of my years and station does not commit such follies."

Again Victor let his hand drop and stepped back.

"Herr Dernburg, you have been a fatherly friend to me for years, Odensburg has been a second home for me, and you are the father of Maia, whom I----"

"Whom you love," said Dernburg, with bitter irony, "you were about to say."

"Yes, I do love her!" cried Victor, drawing himself up to his full height, and his eye met clearly and openly that of the infuriated man.

"This became clear to me the moment when I met again as a blooming girl the child who still lived in my memory. After what you have said nothing is left for me but to leave your house, never to enter it again; but in bidding farewell, I at least challenge your faith in the truth of my feelings for Maia--although she is lost to me."

There was intense anguish, genuine emotion manifest in these last words, which would have convinced anybody else but Dernburg. But that grave, earnest man there at the desk had never known the frivolities of youth, and hence had no idea how to make allowance for its errors.

Perhaps, too, he, was convinced at this moment, but he could not pardon any one for presuming to court his darling for the sake of her wealth.

"I am not authorized to judge of your feelings, Sir Count," said he, with a coldness that forbade any further attempt at reconciliation: "and yet I understand perfectly why you should avoid Odensburg after this conversation. I am sorry that we must part thus, meanwhile as things stand, there is no help for it."

Victor answered not a word, but silently bowed and withdrew. Dernburg looked after him moodily.

"He, too!" murmured he half aloud. "The honest, open-hearted fellow, who, in earlier days, did not know the meaning of calculation!

Everything goes to destruction in this wild chase after wealth, that they call good fortune!--"

At the foot of the broad staircase, that led to the upper story, stood Wildenrod and Eric, engaged in conversation. The latter had just come in from the park, and, meeting with Oscar, poured out his heart to him.

"I am afraid Cecilia is seriously unwell," said he excitedly. "She complains of severe headache and looks dreadfully pale, but has forbidden me in the most positive manner from having Hagenbach called.

She protests that a few hours of undisturbed repose will restore her quicker than anything else. I saw her only a few minutes after her arrival, and have not been able to learn where she has really been, for she preserves an obstinate silence on the subject."

Oscar smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "And you, I suppose, are beside yourself over it. I told you awhile ago, that you must calculate upon the self-will of our spoilt little princess. When Cecile is in a bad humor, she stretches herself on the sofa and will have naught to do with anybody; happily she does not keep in this mood long, I can tell you that for your comfort. Your father, to be sure, is of opinion that you must break her of such whims, but you are not the man for this, my dear Eric. There is nothing, then, left for you to do, but to possess your soul in patience, and already make preliminary studies for the pattern husband, which you will undoubtedly make."

Eric looked at him in amazement. "What has come over you, Oscar? Your face fairly beams with joy. Has something very pleasant happened to you?"

"Who knows--perhaps!" said Oscar, with a flash of his dark eyes. "And therefore I want to take you in hand. You do look desperate. I have always had a great deal of influence over my sister, and shall give her to understand how unwarrantable a thing it is of her to make you taste already the miseries of the married state--properly she has no right to do this, until after the wedding is over. You see if she does not appear at dinner in as good spirits as ever, and then you, too, I trust, will wear a different face--you poor, maltreated lover, who take so much to heart the caprices of his ladye-love."

He laughed with a superior air, and waving back a salutation, he mounted the stair. Eric looked at him, shaking his head dubiously. Such radiant gayety of mood was not at all natural to Oscar von Wildenrod, who was hardly recognizable to-day. What could have happened to him?

Up in the parlor, the Baron was met by his sister's maid, who informed him that her lady had given her strict orders not to allow her to be disturbed, under any circ.u.mstances--without exception, no one was to be admitted. Not even Herr Dernburg.

"Pshaw, such orders do not include me, you know, Nannon," said Wildenrod, cutting her speech short, without ceremony. "I want to speak to my sister. Open the door!"

Nannon courtesied, and obeyed, for she knew very well that the Baron was not one to brook contradiction. Without further ceremony, he entered his sister's chamber, which was next door.

Cecilia lay upon the sofa, with her face buried in a cus.h.i.+on. She did not stir, although she must have heard the opening and shutting of the door, but her brother evinced no surprise at this, and quietly drew nearer.

"Are you once more in an ill-humor, Cecile?" he asked, still in a playful tone. "You really do treat Eric in a most unwarrantable manner.

He has just been pouring his laments into my ears."

Cecilia remained silent and motionless, until Wildenrod finally lost patience.

"Will you not at least have the goodness to look at me? I should like to ask you in general--" he hushed, for his sister suddenly sat bolt upright, and he looked into a face so pale and distorted, that he almost shrank back in dismay.

"I have something to say to you, Oscar," said she, softly. "To yourself alone. Nannon is in the parlor--send her away, that we may be undisturbed."

Oscar knitted his brows,--he could not yet believe that anything serious was in question; but in his joyous mood, he was more inclined than usual to indulge the whim of another. He therefore went into the parlor, sent the maid away on a message, and then turned back.

"Am I finally to learn what all that signifies?" he asked, impatiently.

"Where in the world were you, Cecile, and what means this early morning trip to the mountains? Dernburg has already noticed it with much displeasure! You must know that Odensburg is not the place for such escapades."

Cecilia had gotten up, and said not a word in her own defense, but breathed out in a whisper:

"I have been on the Whitestone."

"On the Whitestone?" exclaimed Oscar. "What foolhardiness! What incredible rashness!"

"Let that be, the question is about something else," she interrupted him vehemently. "I met up there with--with that friend of Eric's youth, and he has said things to me,--Oscar, what happened between you two the first time that you met?"

"Nothing!" said the Baron, coldly. "Perhaps I did see him then; it is possible; one easily overlooks such people. At all events, I did not speak with him, and did not know that he was witness of a painful event that took place on that evening."

"What sort of an event was it?"

"Nothing for your ears, my dear, and therefore I should not like Runeck to talk with you on the subject. By the way, tell me exactly what he did say."

The question was apparently thrown off indifferently, and yet keen suspense was apparent in the dark eyes of the questioner.

"He seemed to take for granted my cognizance of the affair, and pa.s.sed on to make insinuations which I did not rightly understand, but behind which looked something horrible."

"How? Did he dare to?" said Oscar, flaring up.

"Yes, he did dare to impugn your honor, and treat me as your accomplice. He spoke of knowing more about your life than would be agreeable to you; he called us adventurers--do you hear? _adventurers!_ But you will have your revenge, will give him the answer that he deserves, and avenge both yourself and me!"

Wildenrod had turned pale. He stood there with darkened brow and clinched fists, but he was silent. The pa.s.sionate outburst of indignation, and wrath, that Cecilia had looked and hoped for, did not come.

"Did he actually say that to you?" he slowly inquired at last.

"Word for word! And you--you make no answer?"

Wildenrod had recovered his self-possession. He shrugged his shoulders with a mocking air of superiority. "What answer am I to make? Would you have me take such nonsense seriously?"

"He was in sober earnest, and if, as he maintained, proofs are lacking up to this time----"

"Actually?" Oscar laughed, scornfully and triumphantly, while he drew a deep, long sigh of relief.

"Well, let him search for those proofs; he will not find them!"

Cecilia supported herself on the back of the chair by which she stood.

That sigh of relief had not escaped her, and her eyes were fixed upon her brother in deadly anguish.

"Have you no other answer, when your honor is a.s.sailed? Will you not call Runeck to account?"