"Tell the truth, sir. Say that you do not know, that your son is an incorrigible fellow, with no regard for the opinion of the world or for his father's feelings, and that he is resolved to act as he himself sees fit. Say this to all eager inquirers, and if they are not satisfied send them to me, and I will so answer them that they will not repeat their questions."

"You will make yourself impossible in society!"

"Precisely. I shall remain only a few days in Berlin, and may not return here for years."

The Councillor stared at his son with a comical expression of dismay.

To him it was inconceivable that a young and wealthy man should propose voluntarily to leave Berlin. A visit to London, Paris, or Vienna was all very well in its way; he himself had never cared to see those cities, but he could understand how they might interest some men for a while; but to leave Berlin for years without being forced to do so! the thought was preposterous. "You are going away again?" he asked, incredulously.

"Yes; I shall be here but a few days. I returned only to show you and all my acquaintances that I am alive. I am tired of this insignificant existence, and am resolved to devote my future life to some serious pursuit. I shall, I think, pursue the study of agriculture for a year or longer, and so soon as I am capable of the management of a large estate I shall retire to Plagnitz, where I hope to play the part of an able agriculturist."

"I believe you are insane!" the Councillor exclaimed. The idea that Egon von Ernau, the spoiled darling of society, could desire to establish himself upon a West-Prussian estate as a simple agriculturist was monstrous, incredible!

Egon smiled involuntarily at his father's dismay. "You see, sir, I have very sensible and rather commonplace plans for the future. I hope you will approve them, although they surprise you at present. Of course I shall also want a wife. Here I shall meet your wishes. During the few days which I shall spend in Berlin, my betrothal with your choice for me, with Fraulein Bertha von Ma.s.senburg, can be announced publicly and celebrated by a brilliant _fete_ after your own heart. As soon as it is over I shall leave Berlin, and my marriage will take place when my castle in Plagnitz is put in a condition to be a worthy abode for my young wife, and when I am fitted to undertake the management of the estate."

Were the surprises which Egon had prepared for his father never to come to an end? The shock of this last announcement was too much for the Councillor's self-control, He tossed aside his napkin, rose from his chair, and hastily left the room, to return in a moment with a note, which he handed to Egon. "Read that!" he said.

"I have the honour to announce to you the betrothal of my only daughter Bertha to Herr Hugo von w.a.n.gen.

"Werner von Ma.s.senburg.

"Bertha Von Ma.s.senburg.

"Hugo von w.a.n.gen.

"Betrothed."

The blood rushed to Egon's cheeks and there was a mist before his eyes as he read these words. Bertha betrothed to that insignificant, unintellectual, good-natured young fellow! And this was the end of the struggle through which he had pa.s.sed in his sleepless night at Hirschberg, where he had at last resolved upon his future career! His plans were all annihilated by a paltry bit of paper, on which was printed "Bertha von Ma.s.senburg, Hugo von w.a.n.gen, betrothed."

If the Councillor's amazement at all that he had seen and heard on this day could have been increased, it would have been so by the alteration visible in his son's features as he road this note. "What now?" he exclaimed. "You are absolutely incomprehensible! When you could have had Bertha von Ma.s.senburg for a wife by simply saying 'yes,' you ran away to be rid of her, and now you look as if the lady's betrothal to another man were an immense disappointment to you. You have never seen her; it can make no possible difference to you whether you have her or somebody else for a wife, since you are resolved to marry and settle down as a country squire."

"True, sir, it can make no possible difference to me," Egon said, slowly, his eyes still fixed upon the note in his hand.

"Besides," the Councillor continued, "betrothed is not married. If your heart is so set upon this girl, which I never should have suspected, I will speak to Werner Ma.s.senburg about it. He consented to the present betrothal only to put a stop to disagreeable gossip. It will be easy to retract his consent, especially since your appearance gives him a reason for declaring the engagement to w.a.n.gen null and void. He will be glad, and so shall I, to have matters take the course we decided upon two months ago. Since you wish it, Egon, I will speak to him."

Lost in thought, Egon had not understood a word his father had uttered.

The syllables had struck upon his ear without conveying any impression to his mental sense. When he heard his name spoken he started from his revery and rose. "I must now leave you, sir," he said.

"But you cannot possibly have eaten enough. Sit down and let us consult what is to be done."

"I really am unfit for discussion at present. I will go to my room. You can employ the afternoon in acquainting your friends with my return.

To-morrow I will pay the requisite visits, and then try to evoke some order out of the chaos that now reigns in my mind."

He left the room, and slowly walked through the familiar rooms and corridors until he reached his own apartments. Here nothing had been changed during his absence, and it seemed to him that he had been away but for a few hours. His lot appeared as empty and forlorn as when he had decided to put an end to his tedious existence: life was as comfortless and devoid of interest now as then. He threw himself upon a lounge, and buried his face among the cushions. He wished neither to see, to hear, nor to think. He sank into a half-unconscious state between waking and dreaming. Pictures from the past arose, mistily indistinct, before his mental vision. He saw himself as a little lonely child in his luxurious nursery, longing for affection, filled with childish envy of other children who might kiss and caress their father or mother; then he saw himself a youth among the throng of his fellow-students, all ready to flatter and fawn upon him so long as he lavished money upon them; then in society among women whom he despised and men who wearied him; then came the scene on the sh.o.r.e of the lake,--Pigglewitch's confession, and his own sudden impulse that led him into so wild an adventure. All these pictures were cloudy and vague, when suddenly there emerged from among them, in startling distinctness, Lieschen's image. He saw her as she looked upon the afternoon when she had asked counsel of him as she turned to him trustfully. How could he ever have forgotten for a moment that pure, confiding look?

And as once the reality, so now the remembrance affected him profoundly. He felt suddenly invigorated, strengthened for the further conflict of life; the dull despair that had a.s.sailed him when he saw all his plans crumble to ruins vanished; he was ashamed that the thought of Bertha should so have moved him, and that he should have again blindly followed the impulse of the moment. "Lieschen's pure memory shall be my guiding star," he said to himself, "in all the conflicts to come!"

He arose from the lounge, and just in time, for steps were heard in the corridor, his door was flung open, and there appeared on the threshold a man, tall and still handsome in spite of his years, followed by the Councillor. Egon recognized his visitor instantly, although he had never seen him before, so decided was his resemblance to his daughter.

"My son Egon, Herr von Ma.s.senburg," the Councillor said, introducing the young man to the stranger. But Werner von Ma.s.senburg put aside all formality, and, offering Egon his hand, said, with the greatest cordiality, "Pardon the informality of my visit, Herr von Ernau; its excuse is my great pleasure when I heard from my friend, your father, that our mourning for you is at an end, that you are restored to life.

I could not but come to you immediately to express my joy."

Why should Egon be repelled by this frank display of cordiality? He could not tell. As Herr von Ma.s.senburg spoke, the resemblance between his daughter and himself increased; but this did not lessen Egon's distaste for the man. Every friendly word that he spoke seemed to the young fellow a conscious falsehood, and he reciprocated but coldly the other's kindness.

Nothing deterred by Egon's reserve of manner, Werner continued to pour forth his joy upon the occasion of this 'resurrection,' as he called it, and his self-congratulations that it was not too late to prevent the mischief which might have ensued upon any longer continuance in the belief of Egon's death. "Your father knows," he said, "how pained I was to be forced to resign all our delightful schemes for the union of our families, and that I am all the more rejoiced now that the hope of their fulfilment blooms afresh."

"If I am not mistaken, Fraulein von Ma.s.senburg is betrothed to a certain Herr von w.a.n.gen?" Egon said, quietly.

"True," Ma.s.senburg replied, no whit embarra.s.sed. "In the distressing situation in which my daughter was placed, I was forced to have recourse to some means to vindicate her imperilled reputation. A very well-to-do landed proprietor, an honest but rather insignificant young fellow, proposed for her. I gave my consent, hard as it was for me, and harder still as it was for my daughter to submit to the lot thus decided upon for her. She considered herself, so she wrote me, as the widow of one so suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed from her and from the world. The supposition under which both Bertha and myself, as Herr von w.a.n.gen well knows, were induced to give our consent to the betrothal proves to be erroneous, and the betrothal is consequently void. I gladly consent to declare it so, since your father informs me of your readiness to accede to our old plans."

"But Fraulein von Ma.s.senburg and Herr von w.a.n.gen?" Egon asked.

"Bertha will be happy to be liberated from a tie that is odious to her, and Herr von w.a.n.gen must resign himself to the inevitable. I will write to him to-day, and shall rejoice to welcome you, my dear Ernau, as my future son-in-law."

"I regret, Herr von Ma.s.senburg," Egon said, quietly, but firmly, "that I can make no claim to the t.i.tle with which you would honour me. I could never consent to be the cause of the rupture of an engagement which has been publicly announced."

"What new whim is this?" the Councillor exclaimed, angrily. "Why did you send me to Herr von Ma.s.senburg?"

"I did not send you, sir."

"But you made no reply when I told you that I would arrange that the betrothal should be declared void."

"I do not remember hearing you say a word upon the subject."

"Incredible!" the Councillor exclaimed, indignantly. "I expressly told you that I would dissolve the engagement which seemed so obnoxious to you. For your sake, to fulfil your wishes, I went directly from the dinner-table to Herr von Ma.s.senburg, and now you leave me in the lurch, for the sake of heaven only knows what insane idea. It is too much, too much!"

"Indeed, Herr von Ernau," Werner von Ma.s.senburg went on to say, "your father's anger would be justifiable if you were in earnest in what you say, but that I am sure you are not. I respect the delicacy which makes you hesitate to be the cause of the rupture of a betrothal which has been publicly announced. But my daughter's engagement to Herr von w.a.n.gen was only a sad means of putting an end to much scandalous gossip. It was but an empty form, and owes its existence to the force put upon my daughter's will by myself."

That it was an empty form Egon knew only too well. He knew how gladly Bertha would escape from it did she but know who Herr von Ernau really was. Gottlieb Pigglewitch, the tutor at Castle Osternau, had learned thus much from many a glance of the large, dark eyes that had often robbed him of his rest. One word of his, a simple 'yes,' and she might yet be his wife.

'Lieschen's pure memory shall be my guiding star in all the future conflicts of life.' These words, which he had murmured to himself a few moments before, echoed in his soul. In imagination he saw her eyes bent on him in pity,--pity for the weakness of a nature p.r.o.ne to yield so readily to the impulse of the moment.

He hesitated no longer. "I deeply regret," he said, gravely, "if I have been the cause of Fraulein von Ma.s.senburg's contracting an engagement to which her heart is not a party, but in my opinion, and I trust in that of the young lady, a betrothal is no empty form. I should consider it an insult to Fraulein von Ma.s.senburg to suppose her capable of being false to her betrothal vow. I certainly never can give her occasion for being so, and I beg you, Herr von Ma.s.senburg, to consider this as my irrevocable resolve."

Werner von Ma.s.senburg had much ado to preserve his self-possession. He arose, and, with rage in his heart, said, coldly, "After so decided an expression of opinion there is no reason for another word upon this subject. I can only regret having been induced to comply with your request, Herr Councillor."

He then took a formal leave of Egon, and left the room, followed by the Councillor, who did not deign to bestow one farewell glance upon his son.

When Egon was once more alone he drew a deep breath of relief. For the first time in his life he had absolutely controlled an impulse to yield to the whim of the moment. He had resisted temptation in a most alluring form, and he might hope to date from this moment the dawn of a truer and n.o.bler existence.

CHAPTER XX.

LINAU.

The mansion-house of Linau, the German corruption of the Polish Linorov, is by no means an imposing residence. Many a wealthy peasant in Saxony can boast of a home grander in appearance than the seat of the ancient n.o.ble family which Hugo von w.a.n.gen inherited from his father, and in which he was living at present with his young wife and his orphan sister, four years after his marriage. Before his father's death the young couple had occupied a small but comfortable farm-house on the estate, to which Hugo had brought his bride, and where, in accordance with his father's ideas as to the frugality and economy proper to be observed by young people just beginning life, they would still have been residing, had not his father died two years after his son's marriage and bequeathed to him the large manor-house itself.