Clear the Track! A Story of To-day

"How abominable of me!" sportively returned Dernburg, at the same time casting an affectionate glance upon his daughter-in-law. The latter smiled, but it was a melancholy, joyless smile.

"I almost believe Maia is put out with me, too, because I have had so little time to give her to-day," said Oscar, stepping up to his betrothed and taking her hand.

"Yes, to-day you have no thought but for dispatches and election-returns," pouted the young girl. "I really do not comprehend, why you are all in such anxiety and excitement. Papa will be elected as he always is!"

"I think so too," said Dernburg, with calm confidence.

"Well, then, everything is going on right and we need not worry ourselves about it," declared Maia, shaking her wise head indignantly. "That tactless Egbert, indeed, gives papa a great deal to do. Everybody is talking about him and–"

"Silence on that score, Maia!" interposed her father abruptly and with an air of displeasure. "The name of Engineer Runeck is daily forced upon me in the political arena, but I do not wish to hear it mentioned in my family. His relations with us are forever at an end!"

The girl ceased, intimidated by the unwonted tone, and a long silence ensued. Time slipped by, but the looked-for tidings still tarried. Finally the servant entered and spoke a few whispered words to the Baron, who got up quickly and went out. In the dimly-lighted hall he found the director and Winning, who awaited him there.

"Do you wish to speak with me, gentlemen?" asked Wildenrod quickly. "What brings you?"

"Something unpleasant, alas, Baron," began the director hesitatingly, "very unpleasant! Herr Dernburg will have to be prepared for a severe disappointment."

"What does that mean? Have you received the expected returns?"

"Runeck is elected!" said the director in a low voice. "Three quarters of the Odensburg votes were for him."

The Baron turned pale and his hand doubled up convulsively. "Incredible! Unheard of!" he gasped. "And the country-districts? Our forges and mines? Have you heard from there already?"

"No, but they can make no alteration in the main result. Runeck has won in the city and Odensburg; that is enough to ensure to him the majority. Here are the numbers registered."

Wildenrod silently took the paper from the hands of the officer, and read the notices through: they agreed–the election was decided, in due form, against Dernburg and his party.

"We did not dare to break this news to the Master abruptly," said Winning. "He is not at all prepared for it. Perhaps you'll undertake it, Baron? He will have to learn the truth; in a half hour all Odensburg will have the news."

"I'll communicate it to him," said the Baron, as he folded the paper up and put it in his pocket. "But, one thing more, gentlemen! It is just possible that when this result of the election gets abroad manifestations may be attempted, that, in this case, will be a direct insult to our chief. That mad crew, drunk with victory–" here all his vexation broke through the self-restraint, that he had heretofore with difficulty maintained. "Any attempt at demonstrations of rejoicing will be suppressed with the greatest severity, no matter what comes of it. We have no longer any motive to consider them, and they shall be made to feel this." With a haughty nod, he left.

The two officers looked at one another, and finally the director said, with a depressed air: "I wonder who is properly our chief now,–Herr Dernburg or Baron Wildenrod?"

"The Baron, it would seem," answered Winning, irritably. "He gives orders independently, and orders, too, that may entail the most serious consequences. These demonstrations are bound to come. Fallner and his adherents are already seeing to that–"

It was no enviable task that Wildenrod had undertaken. When he again entered Dernburg's room, he was received with the impatient question:

"What was that message about, pray? They are not tormenting us now about other things, I hope–we really have no time for them. But I cannot understand the meaning of this obstinate silence over at the other house. They should have got the news by this time, at least in part, and still not a word do they send us."

"The news has already come, as I have just learned," replied Wildenrod.

"How is that? Why is the announcement delayed then?"

"The director and Winning wanted to bring it over in person. They came to me–"

Dernburg started; for the first time a foreboding of ill darted through his soul. "To you? Why not to me? What are those men thinking of?"

"They wanted to transfer to me the duty of making the revelation," said the Baron, with bridled excitement. "The officers did not dare to approach you with it themselves."

Dernburg changed color, but firmly drew himself up to his full height. "Has it come to their wanting to act a comedy with me? Out with what you have to say!"

Wildenrod looked at the man who confronted him so coldly and wrathfully. It was impossible to delay longer. "Runeck has won the victory in town–" he began.

"I know that! What else?"

"And in Odensburg as well."

"In Odensburg?" repeated Dernburg, looking at the speaker as if he had not taken in his meaning. "My workmen–"

"Have for the most part voted for your opponent, Runeck is elected."

A half-suppressed shriek rang through the apartment; it came from Cecilia's lips. Maia looked anxiously upon her father; so much she comprehended, namely, that a terrible blow was inflicted upon him by these tidings, Dernburg did not speak and did not stir. A dismal silence ensued. Finally he held out his hand for the paper that Wildenrod had drawn out of his pocket.

"You have the electorial returns?"

"Yes, here they are."

Dernburg approached the table, in order to read, always preserving his rigid composure, but as he stood there, in the full light of the lamp, he looked deadly pale. Motionless, he gazed at the numbers that spoke their relentless message. At last he said coldly: "Quite right. Three-quarters of the votes are for him, and me they have cast overboard. It is regular treachery–an unparalleled deserting of one's colors. To be sure when one has been digging and delving for months–my deputy was in a place of trust, having full access to the people, and well knew how to turn the situation to–"

"Your magnanimity, your unlimited confidence is to blame for it all," remarked Wildenrod. "You knew the designs, the connections of this man, and notwithstanding, let him again set foot upon your soil. He wisely profited by this to secure constituents for himself. Now, he had only to beckon, and crowds flocked to his standard. You gave him the rights of a son–behold the return he makes you this day!"

"Oscar, for heaven's sake desist!" implored Cecilia softly. She saw and felt that each one of his words fell like corroding poison into the soul of the man, whose heart was as deeply wounded as his pride.

But Oscar could not use forbearance toward his hated adversary, and continued with increasing warmth:

"Runeck will triumph and he has every reason to. This is a brilliant victory that he has won, to be sure, and over whom? That he gained it over you, that alone makes him a famous man. And in this hour the result of the election will be known in Odensburg–they will have a celebration, vaunting their candidate, and rejoicing until the sound of their shouts will be heard at the Manor-house, and you will have to listen to them–"

"I shall do no such thing!" declared Dernburg with vehemence, retiring a step. It was evident that the poison was taking effect, the man was extremely provoked. "The people have used their right to vote–well, I shall use mine as a householder, and know how to protect myself against insults. Any demonstrations, whatever following upon this election will be suppressed. The director must take the proper measures; tell him so, Oscar!"

"It has already been done. I foresaw your order, and gave the needful directions. I thought that I could be responsible in this case."

On any other occasion, Dernburg would have considered an interference of the sort without his knowledge as an unwarrantable piece of presumption; now, he only saw in it an evidence of solicitude and did not think of censuring.

"It is well," answered he shortly.

"Represent me for to-day, if you please, Oscar; I can see nobody now–go, then, and leave me alone!"

"Papa, let me, at least, stay with you," pleaded Maia in touching entreaty; but for this once her father did not reciprocate her tenderness, but gently put her away.

"No, my child, not even you! Oscar, take Maia with you–I want to be by myself."

Oscar whispered to his betrothed a few words, and then led her from the room. The door closed behind them, and now, when Dernburg believed himself to be alone, his with difficulty maintained composure forsook him. He pressed his clinched fists to his temples, a groan heaved his chest. He did not feel at this moment the humiliation of the defeat; there was something in his grief nobler than mortified ambition. Deserted by his workmen, whose gratitude he believed himself to have earned through a thirty years' course of fatherly kindness to them! Given up for the sake of another, whom he had loved like an own son, and who now thanked him in this fashion! His unflinching fortitude gave way under this blow.

Then he felt how two arms were thrown around his neck, and starting up he perceived his son's young widow, whose pale, tearful countenance met his gaze with an expression that he had never seen in it before.

"What means this, Cecilia?" asked he roughly. "Did I not tell you I wanted to be alone? The others have gone–"

"But I am not going," said Cecilia with quivering voice. "Repulse me not, father! You took me in your arms and pressed me to your heart in the hardest hour of my life; now that hour has come to you, and I want to share it with you."

Then the stolid bitterness of the horribly excited man broke down, and he did not again reject her sympathy. Silently he drew Cecilia to his bosom, and as he stooped over, a glowing tear fell upon her forehead. She shuddered slightly, stung by remorse–she knew for whom that tear was shed.

CHAPTER XVIII.

FORTUNE SMILES ON VICTOR ECKARDSTEIN

Eckardstein had a new master. Count Conrad had lain eight days in the family vault, and his younger brother had taken the reins of authority. That young officer, who had hitherto known no other home than in barracks save that spring, when he had paid only a short visit to his ancestral halls, now suddenly saw himself confronted by quite a new task, and placed in entirely new circumstances. It was certainly fortunate for him, that he had at his side his uncle and former guardian, who was himself a landed proprietor, and now prolonged his stay, in order to support his nephew both with advice and by action.

The gray, foggy weather of the last weeks had been followed by a mild autumnal day. The sunshine lay bright upon the extensive forests that stretched between Odensburg and Eckardstein, belonging, however, for the most part, to the latter domain, for in Odensburg the woods had had to give way constantly to the great industrial establishments, that had continued to spread from year to year. Only a hunting-ground of moderate dimensions and a forester's preserve remained.

Upon one of the woodland paths Count Victor and Herr von Stettin were walking along. They had been inspecting the condition of the forests and had now started on their return to the Castle.

They were about to cross the public road, that here led through the middle of the woods, when, an open carriage rolled rapidly by, in which sat two ladies in deep mourning. The younger turned with an expression of joyful surprise when she perceived the young Count, and upon her speaking a few words to the coachman the carriage stopped.

"Oh, Count Victor, I am very glad to see you again–if the occasion had only not been such a melancholy one!"

Victor stepped up to the carriage-door with a low bow, but looked as if he would rather have paid his respects from a distance. He only touched lightly the little hand that was cordially extended to him, and there was a perceptible reserve in his words as he answered:

"Yes indeed, a very melancholy occasion–but allow me, ladies, to introduce my uncle, Herr von Stettin–Fräulein Maia Dernburg–Fräulein Friedberg."

"Properly, I have only to renew an old acquaintance," said Stettin, smiling, as he likewise drew near. "Years ago when I was on a visit at Eckardstein, I used to see Fräulein Dernburg, but of the child of those days, indeed, a young lady has grown up who may not remember me."

"Only dimly, at least, Herr von Stettin, but so much the more plainly do I remember all the glad hours that I have passed at Eckardstein, with Count Victor and Eric–" The young girl's eyes suddenly filled with tears as she pronounced her brother's name. "Ah, death has invaded our household too! You know, I suppose, Victor, when and how our poor Eric died?"

"I have heard the particulars," said the young Count softly, "and have bitterly felt how much I lost in the friend of my youth. His widow remains at Odensburg, for the present, I learn."

"Oh, certainly, we could not let her leave us! Eric loved Cecilia so dearly! She lives with us."

"And–Baron von Wildenrod?" Victor put this question quite irrelevantly; his eyes at the same time being fastened upon the young girl's countenance with a look of intense anxiety. She blushed deeply.

"Herr von Wildenrod?" she repeated with embarrassment. "He is also at Odensburg."

"And stays there, I presume?"

"I believe so," said Maia with a singular sense of oppression that she could not control, and which seemed altogether irrational. What was there against it, if her youthful playmate should guess to-day, what was no longer to be kept secret? But why did he look at her, in general, so coldly and so reproachfully? What was the matter with him?

Herr von Stettin, who, meanwhile, had been talking with Fräulein Friedberg, now turned again to the others; a few more questions were asked, a few more pieces of information exchanged, then Victor–who seemed strangely impatient to move on–closed the interview with the remark:

"I am afraid, uncle, that we are detaining the ladies too long. May I ask that our compliments be presented to Herr Dernburg?"

"I shall deliver your message to papa–but you will come yourself to Odensburg, will you not?"

"Certainly, if it is possible," declared the young Count in a tone that betrayed the impossibility of such an occurrence. He bowed and retired, the ladies returned his salutation, and the next minute the carriage was rolling away.

"That Maia Dernburg has developed into a charming girl!" said Stettin. "It strikes me that it would be to your advantage to be a little less formal than you were just now. I think you used to be an intimate friend of her brother!"

Victor did not answer, and he cast down his eyes before the searching glance of his uncle, who now paused in his walk.

"I have long since remarked that something was preying on your mind," said he–"something that has altered your whole being. What has gone wrong with you? Be candid, Victor, and maybe your fatherly friend can advise and help you."

"You cannot help me," gloomily declared the young lord, "but I will confess to you–it may lighten the load on my heart.–You know the ground of dissension between Conrad and me. At times Conrad was hard upon me, and finally made his assistance, that I absolutely needed, dependent upon one condition. He planned a union between Maia Dernburg and me, that should henceforth lift me above care, and I–well, I was irritated, embittered, I wanted to be rid of that galling dependence at any price–and I acquiesced. I came here, saw Maia again, and then all was over with calculation and sordid considerations of any kind–for I fell ardently in love with the sweet girl the very first time we met. And then–then I was punished severely enough, for having once calculated."

"You were rejected? Impossible! The young girl awhile ago was as cordial and unconstrained in her manners as possible."

"Maia knows nothing of my proposing to address her; it did not even come to a declaration. Conrad's plan was reported to her father in the most hateful manner. He took me to task about it, and as I could not and would not deny the truth, he treated my courtship as a speculation of the basest sort, myself as a fortune-hunter. He said the most unfeeling things to me–" Victor clinched his teeth at the bare recollection. "Excuse me from saying any more."

"So that is the way the matter stands?" said Stettin reflectively. "To be sure, what cares this proud industrial prince for a Count Eckardstein! Well, do not look so desperate though, my boy; circumstances are entirely different from what they were six months ago. Providence meanwhile has made you lord of Eckardstein, and you have it in your power, by a renewal of your courtship, to prove to that old hard-head the purity of your motives."

"I cannot get my own consent to do so–never! Maia is lost to me now and forever."

"Do not be so rash, please! A few harsh words can always be borne with from a future father-in-law, especially when he has not been altogether wrong in the matter. If your pride forbids the making of any advance, then let me take the initiatory steps. I shall have a talk with Dernburg."

"Just to have it announced to you, with polite regret, that his daughter is engaged to Baron von Wildenrod?" said Victor bitterly. "We may as well spare ourselves that mortification!"

"What are you thinking of? Wildenrod is in his forties and Fräulein Dernburg–"

"Oh, he has some demoniacal power of enchantment, and knows how to use it. I am convinced that the insinuation which so infuriated Dernburg against me originated with him. I was in his way, he was already basing his calculations upon Maia's fortune. And Maia has not remained indifferent to him; already they are everywhere talking of an engagement, and just now I gained certainty as to the state of her affections. Maia betrayed herself–I have nothing more to hope for."

The desperation of the young man plainly showed how deep was the passion for his young playmate that stirred in his heart.

Stettin had become very serious.

"That would certainly be Wildenrod's master-stroke," said he, with knitted brow. "So, it was not enough for him to share his sister's portion, but he must needs win the Odensburg millions for himself! There is still time for opening Herr Dernburg's eyes–his daughter shall not become the prey of this adventurer."

"An adventurer! Baron von Wildenrod!"

"He became so when fortune and splendor deserted his house. Perhaps fate had as much to do with it as guilt–never mind! He has forfeited the right to connect himself with an honorable family."

"And were you aware of this that time at Nice, and did you keep silence?" asked the young Count with bitter reproach in his tone.

"Was I to turn informer? And for the sake of whom? What right had I to force myself upon the confidence of a strange family? At that time what were these Dernburgs to me? One does not expose to public odium the son of a man at whose house you had been received as a friend for long years, without stringent necessity–and in this case I refrained."

"But you might have warned Eric in some way!"

"No warning would have availed at that period. If Eric had wanted to see–the double part that his future brother-in-law played was known all through Nice: I was not the only knowing one. But he walked blindly into the snare spread for him. But comfort yourself. Now when I know how close to your heart his sister is, no consideration shall hinder his exposure."

"Yes, Maia must be protected from this man, cost what it will!" cried Victor impetuously. "Uncle, I have concealed nothing from you, now; be as candid towards me! Who and what is this Wildenrod?"

"You shall learn," said Stettin gravely. "But we cannot discuss such things here, in the open woods. In ten minutes we shall be in the Castle, where we can talk farther on the subject."

CHAPTER XIX.

"OFF WITH THE OLD LOVE, ON WITH THE NEW.–"

Maia and her companion, meanwhile, had continued their ride. Their destination was the railroad station, whither they went to bring home Frau von Ringstedt, who had repaired to Berlin, to prepare the family residence there for occupation during the winter. Dernburg's re-election had been expected with such certainty, that it had been considered in making their household arrangements. Now, whether they should go at all to Berlin was questionable, and the old lady was returning, for the present, to Odensburg.

"What was the matter with Count Victor to-day?" said Maia thoughtfully. "His manners were entirely different from what they usually are, and he did not seem at all rejoiced to see us again."

"He is still in first mourning for his brother," objected Leonie. "It is to be expected, as a matter of course, that he should be graver and more reserved than formerly."

Maia shook her little head; the explanation did not satisfy her. "No, no–this was something quite different. Victor went away last spring, too, without taking leave! Papa said, it is true, that he had been suddenly called away to attend to some military duty, but then he could have written. And just now when I invited him to come to Odensburg, he looked as if he did not care to do so. What is the meaning of all this?"

"I, too, was struck by the Count's restraint of manner," said Leonie, "and for that very reason you should not have been so cordial in your advances, Maia. You are a grown-up young lady now, and should not permit the same freedoms to the country neighbors as when you were a child."

"Victor is no mere country neighbor!" cried the young girl indignantly. "He was the friend of Eric's youth, and, when a boy, used to be almost as much at Odensburg as at Eckardstein. It is ugly of him to be so cold, all of a sudden, and act so formally, and I shall tell him so, too, when he comes to see us. Oh, I shall read him a good lecture!"

Fräulein Friedberg assumed the air of a monitor, and once more enlarged upon the need of circumspection on the part of a grown girl, but she preached to deaf ears. Maia dreamed on with open eyes: she was still haunted by the gloomy, reproachful glance of the playmate of her youth, and although she was far from fathoming the real ground for his altered behavior, his reserve grieved her. She realized, for the first time, how pleasant his cheerful society had been to her.

At the depot, Dr. Hagenbach received the two ladies with disagreeable tidings. He had heard in town of a railroad accident, that was said to have occurred in the forenoon. Since he knew that Frau von Ringstedt was aboard, he had telegraphed at once for the facts, which, fortunately, were comforting. In consequence of the recent violent rains, a land-slide had taken place, the track was blocked up for a considerable distance, and the passengers had been obliged to take another route. The Berlin fast train, then, could only arrive after a good deal of delay: no accident, however, had happened to the train itself.

After this communication, nothing was left for them to do but to wait. There happened to be, however, at the station a large body of troops, which had returned from maneuvering, and was now awaiting transportation; thus all the space was over-crowded, the waiting-room pre-empted by officers, and on all sides there reigned an alarming confusion, that made a long stay for the ladies very unpleasant. The doctor, therefore, advised that they should go over to the "Golden Lamb," secure an apartment, and there await the arrival of the train.

This proposition was adopted, and since Herr Willmann was not at home just now, the guests were received by his spouse, who, upon getting word that the ladies from Odensburg were honoring the "Golden Lamb" with their presence, a thing that had never before happened, came rushing out of the kitchen to acknowledge this honor, in the most humble and grateful manner.

Frau Willmann's attractions must have lain in the domestic virtues, for, most assuredly, they were not in outward appearance. She was considerably older than her husband, with repulsive features and a loud, sharp voice that lent something rasping to her words. And the house-dress in which she received her guests left much to be desired both as regards taste and neatness.