"Which will place me completely in your power? Never!"

"Good! Then we have done with each other. If you wish for war you shall have war!"

Gronau turned and walked towards the door; the president made as if he would have detained him, then apparently changed his mind, and in another moment it was too late: the door had closed behind Veit.

When Nordheim was alone, he began to pace the room rapidly to and fro.

Now when there were no witnesses present it was evident that the interview had nowise left him as indifferent as he had feigned to be.

There was a deep furrow in his brow, and in his face anger and anxiety strove for the mastery; gradually he began to be calmer, and at last he paused and said, half aloud, "'Tis folly to allow this to discompose me thus. He has no proof. I deny everything."

He turned towards his writing-table, when suddenly he stood rooted to the spot, and a low cry escaped his lips. The door of his sleeping-apartment had opened noiselessly, and upon the threshold stood Alice, ashy pale, both hands clasped against her breast, and her large eyes riveted upon her father, who recoiled from her as from some spectre.

"You here?" he said, harshly. "How did you come here? Have you heard anything of what has been said?"

"Yes,--I heard everything," the young girl replied, scarce audibly.

Then for the first time Nordheim changed colour. His daughter present at that interview! But the next moment he had collected himself; it surely could not be difficult to divest of all suspicion the mind of this innocent, inexperienced girl who had always yielded so readily to his authority. "It certainly was not meant for your ears," he said, with asperity. "I really cannot understand your playing the part of eavesdropper when you must have heard that a purely business matter was under discussion. You have now been witness to an attempt to blackmail your father,--an attempt which I ought perhaps to have repulsed more decidedly. But such audacious liars have the best men at a disadvantage. The world is ever too ready to credit a falsehood, and where a man is, like myself, engaged in great undertakings, demanding princ.i.p.ally the entire confidence of the public, he cannot afford to expose himself to the faintest suspicion. It is better to be rid of such fellows as this man, who live by blackmail, at the expense of a sum of money;----but you understand nothing of it all! Go to your room, and pray do not visit mine in secret again."

His words did not produce the desired effect: Alice stood motionless.

She made no reply; she did not stir; and her silence seemed to irritate the president still further.

"Do you not hear me?" he said. "I wish to be alone, and I require that no word of what you have heard should pa.s.s your lips. Now go!"

Instead of obeying, Alice slowly approached him, and said, in a strange, nervous tone, "Papa, I have something to say to you."

"About what? Not this attempt at blackmail, I trust? I have explained to you how matters stand, and you will hardly give credence to that scoundrel."

"That man was no scoundrel," the young girl replied, in the same strange tone.

"Indeed?" the president burst forth. "And what am I, then, in your eyes?"

No answer, only the same rigid distressed look riveted upon her father's face. There was no longer any question in it, but a condemnation, and Nordheim could not bear it. He had confronted his accuser with a brazen brow, before his child's eyes his own sought the ground.

Alice caught her breath; at first her voice failed her, but it gained in firmness as she went on:

"I came here to make a confession, papa, to tell you something that might have angered you. I do not care to speak of it now. I have only one question to ask you: Are you going to afford--Dr. Reinsfeld the satisfaction required of you?"

"Not at all, I shall abide by my last words."

"Then I shall give it to him in your stead."

"Alice, are you bereft of your senses?" the president, now really alarmed, exclaimed; but she went on, undeterred:

"He does not indeed need your confession, for he knows the truth; he must have long known it. Now I know why he changed so suddenly, why he often looked at me so sadly, and never would betray what troubled him.

He knows everything. And yet he has shown me nothing save kindness and compa.s.sion, has used every effort to restore me to health,--me, the daughter of the man who----" She could not finish the sentence.

Nordheim made no further attempt to appear indignant, for he saw that Alice was not to be imposed upon, and he also saw that he must give up the attempt to control her by severity. She had foolishly resolved upon what might ruin him; her silence must be secured at all hazards.

"I, too, am convinced that Dr. Reinsfeld has nothing to do with the matter," he said, more calmly; "that he is sufficiently wise to see the folly of such threats. As for your silly purpose to speak of them to him, I am sure you are not in earnest. What is the affair to you?"

The young girl stood erect, and her face took on an indescribably stern expression quite foreign to it: "It ought indeed to be much more to you, papa! You knew that Dr. Reinsfeld dwelt near us, that he laboured night and day, in absolute poverty, and you never even tried to make good to him the wrong done to his father. Life and mankind have been so cruel to him: he was thrust out into the world in his childhood; as a student he lacked every means of support, while you won millions with that money, built palaces, and lived in luxury. At least do what Gronau asks, papa. You must,--or I shall attempt it myself."

"Alice!" Nordheim exclaimed, between anger and utter amazement at finding his daughter, the gentle, docile creature who had never before ventured to contradict him, now laying down the law for him. "Have you no idea of the meaning of the affair? Would you deliver up your father to his worst enemy, who----"

"Benno Reinsfeld is not your enemy," Alice interrupted him. "If he were, he would long since have made use of the secret to extort from you something quite different from that demanded by Gronau,--for--he loves me!"

"Reinsfeld--loves you?"

"Yes,--I know it, although he has never told me so. I am betrothed to another, and he, who could obtain from you what he chose by threats, is going from here without one demand, without even a word with you, because he would fain spare me the terrible knowledge, which, nevertheless, is now mine. You do not dream of the extent of this man's magnanimity. I now know it all!"

The president stood speechless; he was not prepared for this turn of affairs, for it required no great amount of perspicacity to perceive that Benno's love was returned. The girl's pa.s.sionate indignation spoke plainly enough, and if Reinsfeld really knew the story of the past--and that he did so seemed beyond a doubt--there was in fact but one explanation of his reserve and his silence in a matter so nearly concerning him. He had relinquished the advantage which his knowledge gave him that she whom he loved might be saved from disgrace. There was nothing therefore to apprehend from him; the father of the girl whom he loved was secure from his revenge, and perhaps he might induce Gronau also to be silent.

"This is an astounding piece of news!" Nordheim said, slowly, after a short pause, during which he had watched his daughter narrowly. "And I hear it rather late. You spoke just now of a confession. What had you to tell me?"

Alice cast down her eyes, and a burning blush replaced the pallor of her cheek: "That I do not love Wolfgang, nor does he love me," she answered, in a low tone. "I did not know it at first myself, but it has become clear to me within the last few days."

She confidently expected a burst of anger from her father, but nothing of the kind ensued; on the contrary, his voice was quite changed, as he said, in an unusually gentle tone, "Why have you no confidence in me, Alice? I would not force my only daughter to contract a marriage in which her heart had no share; but this must be well considered and reflected upon. For the present I only ask that you will not be overhasty in your resolves, but will leave it to me to find a solution of the difficulty. Trust your father, my child; you shall have no cause for dissatisfaction with him."

He stooped to press a paternal kiss upon her forehead, but she shrank away from the caress with an evident expression of dislike.

"What does this mean?" Nordheim asked, with a frown. "Are you afraid of me? Do you not believe me?"

She raised her eyes to his with the same hard, accusing look in them, and her voice, usually so gentle, was inexorably stern, as she replied, "No, papa; I believe neither in your love nor in your kindness. I shall never believe you again,--never!"

Nordheim bit his lip and turned away, mutely motioning to her to leave the room. As mutely she obeyed.

She had rightly divined that the president never for a moment entertained the idea of a marriage between his daughter and the young physician, although he had no scruples in hinting at such a possibility in order to avert for the moment a threatening danger. But he had miscalculated his daughter's insight; the young, inexperienced girl had seen through his device, and, man of iron though he was, he could not endure it. He had preserved his composure in presence of Wolfgang's haughty indignation and of Gronau's threats. His anger had been aroused, and at most he had experienced a vague dread. Now for the first time in his life he felt the sting of shame. Even although the danger menacing him should be averted, he could not away with the consciousness that he was judged and condemned by his only child.

CHAPTER XX.

BLASTS AND COUNTERBLASTS.

The construction of the railway was pushed forward with feverish haste.

In fact, it was no easy task to have the work completed at the promised time; but Nordheim was right in declaring that the engineer-in-chief would spare neither himself nor his subordinates. Elmhorst spurred on his workmen to incredible exertions; he was present everywhere, superintending and directing, giving to his staff of engineers an example of unwearied devotion to duty that inspired their emulation.

Under his leadership their capacity for work seemed doubled, and he actually attained his end. The numerous structures on the line of mountain-railway were now all but finished, and the last touches were being put to the Wolkenstein bridge.

Wolfgang had just returned from his day's expedition. He had dismissed his vehicle in Oberstein, that he might pursue the rest of his way on foot, and now he was standing upon a cliff above the Wolkenstein abyss, watching the workmen, swarming like busy ants upon the trestles and framework of the bridge. A few days more would witness the completion of the work, which already excited universal admiration, and which in the course of a year or two would arouse the wonder of thousands; but he who had created it stood gazing at it as gloomily as if all pleasure in his creation had departed.

He had evaded for to-day an interview with the president, testifying by his absence to his adhesion to his refusal; but some explanation was unavoidable. That the breach between them was final both knew; Nordheim was scarcely the man to accept for his son-in-law one who had so frankly and contemptuously defied him, and from whom he could expect in future no support in his schemes. The question was now how the separation was to be made, since the interests of each required that it should take place as quietly as possible. This was all that was to be arranged, and this was to be settled on the morrow.

The sound of a horse's hoofs close at hand roused Elmhorst from his reflections, and turning he perceived Erna von Thurgau upon one of the rough ponies purchased for use among the mountains. She drew rein, evidently surprised, as she recognized the engineer-in-chief.

"Back already, Herr Elmhorst? We thought your expedition would take up an entire day."

"I finished my inspection sooner than I antic.i.p.ated. But you cannot ride on for a few moments, Fraulein von Thurgau: they are blasting just below there; it will be all over, however, in ten minutes."