Clear the Track! A Story of To-day

Cecilia Wildenrod had that style of appearance which seems to have an irresistible fascination for the opposite sex. Her features were more irregular than those of her brother, but their mobility and variety of expression gave them a peculiar charm that never wore out. Her dark hair, that was so abundant as not to be always brought down to the requirements of the latest fashion, and complexion, that was of the clear brunette type, made one suspect that she could not be of purely German origin; and from beneath long black eyelashes gleamed a pair of lustrous eyes, that allured one who looked deeply into them with all the fascination of a riddle to be solved. In these mysterious depths, too, glowed a spark that might well be fanned into a flame; they, too, having some of that glow of passion, which in Oscar's case was hidden under a semblance of excessive coldness. This constituted the sole resemblance between the brother and sister, but it was a resemblance that stood for much.

Cecilia still wore the silk dress in which she had appeared on the Corso, already a few pale yellow, half-open, rosebuds adorned her bosom, and now she placed a full-blown rose among the dark waves of her hair. Nature's adorning became her wondrously, and her brother's glance rested upon her with evident satisfaction. He had closed both doors carefully behind him, nevertheless he now lowered his voice and said in a whisper:

"Eric Dernburg has something besides roses to offer you–his hand. He has just had a talk with me, and is now going to address himself to you."

The young lady likewise heard this news without any surprise.

She turned her head to one side, that she might see how the flower looked in her hair, and asked with apparent indifference:

"So soon?"

"Soon? Why, I have been expecting a declaration from him this long while, and he would have made it, too, only you seem to have given him poor encouragement."

A fold appeared between Cecilia's brows, exactly in the same spot where a deep furrow had seamed her brother's.

"If he were only not so abominably tiresome!" murmured she.

"Cecilia, you know that I am anxious for this marriage, exceedingly anxious, and I hope that you will regulate your conduct accordingly."

His tone was very positive, seeming to preclude any chance of opposition on the part of his sister, who now pushed away the rest of the roses with a gesture of impatience.

"Why had it to be this Dernburg, and no one else? Vicomte de Marville is much handsomer, much more agreeable–"

"But is not thinking of offering you his hand," interposed Wildenrod. "He, just as little as all the other triflers who swarm around you. You need not put on that injured air, Cecilia, you may rely implicitly upon my judgment: I know men, I tell you, girl. Now this union with Dernburg secures to you a brilliant destiny; he is very rich."

"Well, so are we, for that matter."

"No," said the Baron shortly and sharply.

The young lady looked at him in amazement: he stepped up to her and laid his hand upon her arm.

"We are not rich! I am obliged to tell you this now, that you may not ruin your future prospects, through caprice or childishness, and I confidently expect you to accept this offer."

Cecilia still looked at her brother, half shocked, half-incredulous, but she was evidently accustomed to submitting to his will in silence, and attempted no further opposition.

"As if I should dare to say 'no,' when my stern brother dictates a 'yes,'" pouted she. "But I can tell Dernburg one thing, he need not flatter himself with the idea that I am going to bury myself with him in that horrid Odensburg. To live among droves of day-laborers, at those iron works, full of dust and soot–it makes me shudder just to think of it."

"All that can be accommodated afterwards," said Wildenrod calmly. "As for the rest, you have no idea what it is to be some day master of the Odensburg works, and what a stand you will take in the world, by his side. When you do come to comprehend the situation fully, you will be grateful to me for the choice that I have made. But come, we should not keep your future husband waiting any longer."

He took her arm, and led her to the parlor, where Dernburg was awaiting them in restless suspense. The Baron pretended not to observe his uneasiness, and chatted unrestrainedly with him and his sister about their drive on the Corso, and various little incidents that had occurred, until it suddenly occurred to him to admire the sunset, that promised to be particularly beautiful this evening. He stepped out upon the veranda, as if undesignedly, let the glass doors fall to behind him, and thus gave the young couple an opportunity to be alone.

"Why, it looks just like a flower-market!" exclaimed Cecilia laughingly, as she pointed to the table that was overladen with bouquets. "Francis has, of course, piled them up with a reckless disregard of taste: I must really arrange them better. Will you not help me to do so, Herr Dernburg?"

She began to divide out the various sorts and put them in vases and bowls, and with the remainder to decorate the hearth. Dernburg helped her, but he was not a very efficient helper, for he could not take his eyes off the slender form, flitting to and fro, in dainty garb, with that lovely rose in her dark hair.

At the first glance, he had perceived that those were his roses that she wore, and a happy smile played about his lips. He wondered if her brother had already given her a hint? She was so free from embarrassment, laughed so heartily at his absence of mind, and treated him with the same pretty insolence as usual–she could not possibly know that he meant to address her!

In Cecilia's manner, there was most assuredly nothing of the sweet shyness and embarrassment of a young girl who, for the first time, listens to the addresses of a lover. In fact, it hardly seemed that she comprehended the seriousness of the situation. She would soon be twenty years old, at which age girls in her circle often married or, rather, were given in marriage, for their families usually decided the matter for them. Individually, moreover, she had no objection to marrying. It would be very pleasant to enjoy the freedom allowed a married woman, to be wholly untrammeled as to expenditure in dress, jewels, etc., and to be no longer obliged to submit to the will of a brother, who was at times very despotic, only–how much handsomer and more agreeable was Viscount de Marville than this Dernburg, who had not even rank to recommend him. It was really outrageous, that a Baroness Wildenrod would, in future, have to bear the name of a simple citizen!

She had just taken up the last bouquet, preparatory to decorating the hearth with it, when she heard her name breathed softly but fervently.

"Cecilia!"

She turned around and met the gaze of Eric, who stood beside her, and continued in the same tone:

"You have only eyes and thoughts for the flowers–have you not a single glance for me?"

"Why, do you stand so much in need of that glance?" asked Cecilia archly.

"Oh! how very much I need it! It is to give me courage for a confession–will you hear it?"

She smiled and laid down the bunch of flowers that she held in her hand.

"Why, that sounds quite portentous. Is it something so important?"

"No less than the happiness of my life, for which I look to you!" replied Dernburg impetuously. "I love you, Cecilia, have done so from the first moment that my eyes rested upon you. You must have known this for a long while, could not help guessing it, but I always saw you so surrounded by admirers, and so rarely obtained the least excuse for the indulgence of hope, that I dared not press my suit. Now, though, that the time for my departure draws near, I cannot go, without certainty as to my fate. Will you be mine, Cecilia? I will lay everything, everything, at your feet, gratify every wish, and all my life long guard you as the most precious of treasures. Say one word, only a single one, that shall give me hope, but do not say 'no,' for that I could not stand."

He had caught both her hands, his face, commonly so pale, was now suffused with a bright flush, and his voice quivered with emotion. This was no stormy, passionate declaration, but each word expressed the truest love, the fullest tenderness, and the young girl who had so often been besieged by flattery and adulation, heard this tone for the first time, and listened, half perplexed, half fascinated.

Cecilia had not supposed the quiet, bashful lover, whom she had often treated with great disdain, capable of such a wooing, and as he now went on, more tenderly, more urgently, the 'yes' pleaded for came at last from her lips, rather hesitatingly, it is true, but without any sign of repugnance.

In a transport of rapture, Dernburg wanted to fold his betrothed to his heart, but she shrank back. It was an involuntary, half unconscious movement of shyness, almost aversion, such as perhaps would have wounded and chilled anybody else, but Eric only saw in it the sweet modesty of the young girl, and while he still softly clasped her hands, he whispered:

"Oh, Cecilia, if you did but know how I love you!"

There was no mistaking in his tone the genuine accents of devoted love, and it did not fail to make its impression upon Cecilia, who now began to realize that she had no right to be so reserved with the man to whom she had plighted her troth.

"Well, then, you deserve that I should give you a little love in return, Eric!" said she, with a charming smile, at the same time suffering him to draw her to his side and imprint a first kiss upon her lips.

Wildenrod was still standing out upon the veranda, and turned around with a smile as the young couple approached him. Beaming with pride and happiness, Dernburg led his betrothed up to him, and received the congratulations of his future brother-in-law, who first embraced his sister, then Eric.

Then there began a lively, cheerful conversation, out upon the balcony, where the soft breezes of spring were still sporting. The dazzling splendor of daylight was already breaking up into that gorgeous blending of colors, as is only witnessed in the South, at sundown. The city and surrounding heights were glorified, as it were, by the resplendent sheen that glistened and sparkled like molten gold upon the waves of the sea, and while the distant mountains were veiled in a roseate mist, the sun itself, a fiery ball, sank lower and lower, until it finally vanished from view.

Eric had slipped his arm around the waist of his betrothed, and whispered into her ear tender and loving words. Irradiated with glory as was the lovely landscape before them, so seemed the future to him, by the side of that precious girl. Wildenrod stood apart, apparently wholly absorbed in the contemplation of that magnificent spectacle, but nevertheless, a deep sigh of relief escaped his chest, and while his eyes flashed in triumph, he murmured, almost inaudibly: "At last!"

CHAPTER II.

IN COUNCIL

"I Am sorry, gentlemen, but I have to pronounce all your plans and proposals unsatisfactory. The question is to draw all the water-power we need from the Radefeld low-grounds, in the shortest way, and with the least possible expense. But, without exception, your designs call for such vast and expensive outlays, that it is not worth while to talk of their being carried into effect."

It was Eberhard Dernburg, the proprietor of the Odensburg Works, who thus declined the plans laid before him by his officers, in this decided manner. The gentlemen shrugged their shoulders and looked at the plans and drawings that were spread out upon the table, when, finally, one of them said:

"But, you see, Herr Dernburg, that we have to contend here with the greatest difficulties. The land lies in the most unfavorable of all ways, mountains and valleys alternating along the whole line."

"And the pipes must be secured against all casualties," remarked a second; while the third added:

"The laying of them down will certainly occasion a large expenditure, but as things are now, this cannot be altered."

These three gentlemen, the director and head-manager of the Odensburg works, the superintendent of the technical bureau, and the chief-engineer, were unanimous in their views. This conference was being held in Dernburg's office, where that gentleman usually received the reports of his subordinates, with whom his son also was found to-day. It was a large apartment, quite plainly furnished, but its walls were lined with bookcases. His desk was heaped up with letters and other papers; on the side-tables lay plans and maps of all sorts; and the great portfolios, that were visible in an open press, seemed to contain similar matter. It was evident, that this room was the central point, whence came the guidance of the whole gigantic enterprise,–a spot devoted to never-ending toil and unflagging activity.

"You do not, then, think any other solution possible?" began Dernburg again, as he drew out a paper from a portfolio near by, and spread it out before him. "Please glance at this, gentlemen! Here the course taken is to start from the higher ground, but it penetrates the Buchberg, and then, without further difficulty, is to be conveyed to the works across Radefeld itself–there is the solution sought for."

The officers looked somewhat chagrined, and eagerly bent over the drawing. Evidently none of them had thought of this plan, and yet they did not seem to consider it with any special good-will.

"The Buchberg is to be penetrated, did you say?" asked the director. "A very bold thought, that would assuredly offer great advantages, but I do not deem it feasible."

"Neither do I," chimed in the chief-engineer. "At all events, a searching examination is needed, to ascertain if it is possible. The Buchberg–"

"Is to be mastered," interposed Dernburg. "The preliminary works have already been executed. Runeck established the fact of their possibility, at the outset, when he made the outer measurements, and treats of it expressly in the explanation now lying before us."

"So the plan emanates from him, does it?" asked the superintendent of the technical bureau.

"From Egbert Runeck–he and none other."

"I thought so."

"What do you mean, Herr Winning?" asked Dernburg, quickly turning upon him.

Herr Winning made haste to protest that he had no particular meaning; that the affair only interested him because the young technician was in his own department, immediately under his superintendence: the other two said nothing but cast upon their chief, strange looks of inquiry, which he did not appear to observe.

"I have decided upon adopting Runeck's plan," said he quietly, but, at the same time, with a certain sharpness. "It fulfills all my requirements, and the estimate of expenses amounts to about half of yours. We must consult, of course, over the details, but anyhow, the work is to begin as soon as possible. We'll talk it all over another time, gentlemen."

He rose from his seat, and in so doing gave the signal to disperse, for the officers bowed and took their leave; but in the ante-chamber, however, the director paused, and asked in a whisper:

"What do you say to it?"

"I do not understand Herr Dernburg," answered the chief-engineer, with a voice likewise cautiously lowered. "Is it that he actually does not or will not know?"

"Of course he knows it. I myself have given him information on the subject, and the Socialist gentleman himself does not pretend to make any secret of the course he is pursuing; he recklessly admits the stand that he has taken. Should any other man here at Odensburg dare to do the same, he would obtain his dismissal on the spot, but Runeck's discharge seems as yet to be a thing of the dim future. You see his plan has been accepted without any question, while we were plainly given to understand that ours were good for nothing. That surpasses anything that has happened yet–"

"You just wait," interposed Winning calmly. "On that point our chief is not to be trifled with, we all know. At the right time he will speak authoritatively, and, if Runeck does not yield then, it is all up with him, let him be ten times over the young master's bosom-friend and deliverer from death. You may rely upon that!"

"Let us hope so," said the director. "By the way, how poorly Mr. Eric does look still, and how remarkably silent he is. Why, I do not believe he uttered ten words during the whole debate."

"Because he did not understand what we were talking about," explained the chief-engineer, shrugging his shoulders. "They have taken pains enough to drill it into him, but very evidently not much has stuck to him. He has inherited nothing from his father, whether outwardly or inwardly. I must be gone, though, I have to drive out to Radefeld–Good-morning, gentlemen!"

Father and son had been left together by themselves, and the former walked silently up and down the room, evidently quite out of sorts.

In spite of his sixty years Eberhard Dernburg was still in the full vigor of life, and nothing but his gray hair and wrinkled forehead gave any indication that he had already crossed the threshold of old age. His face, with its firm, grave features, told no such story, any more than did his glance, which was keen and clear, and his tall figure was as erect as ever. His address and speech were those of a man accustomed to command, and to receive unfailing obedience, and in his outward appearance there was something that spoke of the sternness attributed to him alike by friend and foe.

It was plainly to be seen now, that his son bore not a shadow of resemblance to the father, but a glance at the half-length portrait that hung over the desk explained this, in some sort. It represented Dernburg's deceased wife, and Eric was speakingly like her. There was the same countenance, with its delicate, meaningless features, the soft, uncertain lineaments, the dreamy, reserved look.

"There sit my deputies with all their wisdom," began Dernburg, finally, in a half-mocking, half-angry tone. "For months they have been pottering over the task, concocting all manner of designs, not one of which was worth anything; and, on the other hand, there is Egbert, without any commission at all, going quietly along, taking the necessary measurements, and studying the situation, until he matures a plan, and lays on the table before me a scheme that is simply masterly! How do you like his sketch, Eric?"

The young man cast an embarrassed look upon the drawing which he still held in his hand.

"You find it excellent, father. I–pardon me–I cannot exactly get a clear idea of its bearings."

"Why, I should think it ought to be clear enough, since you have been pondering over it since yesterday evening. If you require so much time for comprehending a simple plan, for which all the necessary explanations are given, how will you acquire the quick insight into affairs, indispensably necessary for the future owner of the Odensburg works?"

"I have been absent fully a year and a half," said Eric in apology, "and during all that time, the physicians enjoined it upon me to refrain from all exertion, particularly prohibiting any mental strain. You must make allowances, father, and give me time to fit into harness again."

"You have always had to be on your guard against over-exertion, and been restricted in work," said Dernburg with a frown. "On account of your continual sickness, you were never able to pursue any serious study, or engage in anything that required bodily activity. I fixed all my hope upon your return from the South, and now–do not look so disconsolate, Eric! I do not mean to reproach you; it is not your fault, but it is a misfortune in the station to which you are now called."

Eric suppressed a sigh; once more he was feeling this enviable station to be a sorely heavy burden. His father continued impatiently:

"What is to be done, when I shall no longer be here? I have capable subordinates, but they are all dependent upon my guidance. I am accustomed to do everything myself, I never let the reins slip out of my hands, and your hands, I am afraid, will never be strong enough to manage them alone. I have long perceived the necessity of securing you a support for the future–and just at this crisis, Egbert disappoints me by being guilty of the madness of allowing himself to be caught in the net of the socialistic democrats! It is enough to drive one mad!"

He stamped passionately with his foot. Eric looked at his father, with a certain shyness, then said gently:

"Perhaps the matter is not so bad as you have been informed. The director may have exaggerated many a thing."

"Nothing has been exaggerated. My investigations have ratified every word. His period of study in that cursed Berlin has been fatal to the young man. I ought to have taken the alarm, indeed, when he wrote me word, after the first few months of his stay there, that he no longer needed the means which I had placed at his disposal, for he could manage to support himself by giving drawing-lessons and by other work. It must have been hard enough for him, but I liked his pride and independence of spirit, and let him have his way. Now I see more clearly! Those mad ideas were already beginning to seethe in his brain, the first meshes of the net were already woven about him, in which he has since been caught, and he would accept nothing more from me, for he knew that all was at an end between us, if I learned anything about it."

"I have not spoken with him yet, and therefore cannot judge. He is out at Radefeld, I hear."

"He is coming in to-day. I am expecting him before the hour is out."

"And you are going to talk to him on the subject?"

"Of course–it is high time."

"Father, let me implore you not to be hard upon Egbert. Have you forgotten–"

"That he drew you out of the water? No, but he has forgotten that since then he has been almost treated like a son of the house. Do not meddle in this matter, Eric, you do not understand it."

The young man was silent, not daring to oppose his father, who, for the last few minutes, had resumed his pacing of the floor. Now he paused in his walk, and said grumblingly: "I have on my mind all manner of disagreeable things, and lo! here you come, with your love-affairs, and prating about marriage. It was dreadfully precipitate of you to bind yourself without first obtaining my consent."

"I believed myself certain of your approval, and so did Wildenrod, when he promised me his sister's hand. What objection have you to make to my choice, father? The daughter that I am going to present to you is so lovely and sweet. How beautiful she is that picture shows. She is, moreover, rich, from a highly-esteemed family–indeed she belongs to a line of the ancient nobility–"

"I do not attach the slightest consequence to that," brusquely interrupted his father. "No matter how suitable your choice was, it should have been first referred to me; instead of which you even allowed the engagement to be announced at Nice before my answer had arrived. It almost looks as if there was a purpose to obviate any possible opposition on my part."

"But there can be no talk of that! My relations with Cecilia had not been unobserved, it was already the theme of town-talk; and Oscar explained to me that he had to acknowledge the truth, to avoid any misinterpretation of our actions."

"Never mind, it was a piece of unwarrantable presumption. My investigations have certainly proved satisfactory."

"Ah! you have had yourself informed?"

"Of course, since a family connection is at stake. I have certainly not turned to Nice–a mere transient sojourn like that offers no reliable hold–but to the native place of the Wildenrods. Their former possessions are now part of the royal domain, and I got the information I wanted from the court-marshal's office."

"That was superfluous, father," said the young man reproachfully.

"I, however, deemed it needful for your sake," was the dry rejoinder. "There is no doubt but that the Wildenrods belong to the most ancient nobility in the land. The old Baron seems to have lived rather extravagantly, but was universally respected. His estates were sold after his death, and, for a respectable sum were transferred to the king, on condition that the widow might still be allowed a home in the castle. This certainly agrees with the information furnished you by Herr von Wildenrod, a person, by the way, with whom I cannot have the slightest affinity."