"Why, of course. We wouldn't have lent him another penny long ago; but for the sake of his wife, who is really a lovely woman; we can't let him go to ruin entirely. Of course he knows that better than any one else, and so she is always obliged to be of the party when any new credit is to be obtained. A week ago to-day, when we were in Pluggenhof, Otto paid his attentions to her at the table in the wildest way--in the presence of his own wife, nee Baroness von Grieben-Keffen--and half an hour after dinner Brandow had his five thousand thalers in his pocket. It was a piece of madness on Otto's part; we had agreed that we would not give more than five thousand together. It would have proved a capital thing for us, but that d.a.m.ned Jew has spoiled it again. The devil knows why he helped him.

And the a.s.sessor told me he had been paid too. Twenty-five thousand thalers at one slap! I don't understand it at all--and that's saying something, for I generally know all his tricks and turns. The Pastor thinks you, and n.o.body else, have given him the money; and in return Brandow will overlook it if you and his wife--there, you needn't fly into a rage. Parson's gossip, that's all. You would take care of yourself--twenty-five thousand--ridiculous! But he has it--that's a fact, as they say in England--ever been in England? I was there--eight years ago when we were arranging about the Sundin races--famous country! horses, women, sheep--famous!-what was I going to say? He has the twenty-five thousand, and Dollan's safe for five years, the a.s.sessor says; and now Brownlock too! d.a.m.n! that is a horse! On my honor, I haven't seen his equal even in England. What action! What a hock! And how he went over everything! Magnificent! But too heavy! too heavy, 'pon honor--he won't cross the piece of marsh-land we have now taken into the race-course. They say Prince Prora declared it wasn't fair! It's all very well for him to talk, he has no interest in the racing! Won't you come in with us? I hear there is to be a little card-party made up."

"I have never gambled, and--my headache is coming on again."

"Strange, I've no more idea what a headache is than if I had no head--you artists probably get it from the oil paints; they smell abominably."

CHAPTER XIX.

The young n.o.bleman followed the others, who had already entered the house and gone into Brandow's room on the right of the hall, where the gaming-table, as Gotthold had noticed through the window, was already prepared.

"Why, Herr Weber, are you going to stay out here?" asked Rieke, who had been standing in the hall, and now approached him.

Her gray eyes rested upon him with a very friendly expression, and the thought pa.s.sed through his mind that it probably depended only upon himself to win the goodwill of this avaricious creature, and even now he might make up for his neglect, nay must do so if he wished to accomplish the object for which he had returned to Dollan. He had given her a very handsome present when he took his departure that morning; perhaps he only needed to go on as he had begun.

"We didn't expect to see you again so soon," added the girl; "and you went away so suddenly: you left a great many things behind; a beautiful red silk handkerchief--shall I get it for you?"

She was now standing close beside him, and as if by accident, touched his arm.

"I think it would be very becoming to you," said Gotthold.

"Do you? I should think you would know a great deal about what was becoming to me. You never had eyes for anybody except--some one else."

"Where is your mistress to-day? Why doesn't she appear?" asked Gotthold, and then as he fancied he saw a cloud pa.s.s over the girl's face, added: "I would give a great deal to know."

"How much?" said the girl, with a roguish laugh.

"Rieke, where are you?" cried Brandow's voice from the dining-room.

"We want some more gla.s.ses. Where is the girl?" and he banged the door angrily behind him.

"He didn't see us," whispered Rieke. "I must go in now, but I'll come back again directly."

She glided away; Gotthold stood still a few moments, undecided whether to make an attempt to see Cecilia on his own account or not. There was no question that the girl could be of use to him if she chose; but would she choose? She seemed really frightened when Brandow called; but he had not relied much upon the fickle favor of the frivolous la.s.s, and perhaps the whole thing was a preconcerted plot between Brandow and the girl in order to make sure of him, entangle him the more firmly in the net. No, it was better, trusting only to his own skill, to take advantage of the opportunity.

And the opportunity was more favorable, than any which might offer again. A second stolen glance through the window into the already lighted room showed him that the party were busily engaged in their game--faro apparently--and Brandow had the bank--so he could not leave now. Rieke was standing at the back of the tolerably large room with a waiter full of gla.s.ses, which the Pastor was filling from a large bowl--so she too was employed for the present. The hall was perfectly still; the table in the dining-room still stood just as the guests had left it--the solitary candle at which they had lighted their cigars flickered in the strong draught, as if ready to go out. This room was also unoccupied; so he succeeded in reaching the dusky garden unseen.

Although the sun had scarcely set, it was almost dark. The clouds, which had dispersed a little during the afternoon, were once more piled in huge dark ma.s.ses, which a high wind blowing in irregular gusts, drove to and fro as if in wild sport. The tops of the old trees swayed hither and thither; and the tall hedges rustled and hissed like a thousand sharp tongues.

So it seemed to Gotthold. Again and again he paused, gasping for breath; he was so entirely unaccustomed to do anything by stealth. And yet it must be; he could not part from her forever in this way.

The end of the house, in the lower part of which was her chamber, and above it the room he had occupied, looked out upon a smaller garden, which was separated from the courtyard by a wall, shut in on the opposite side by a barn, and divided from the larger garden at the back of the house by a very thick, high hedge. It had originally been a fruit and vegetable garden, and a few huge old apple and pear trees still stood in different parts of it; but had afterwards been converted into a play-ground for the children of the house, for whose sake the asparagus and cuc.u.mber beds had been transformed into a gra.s.s plot, and a narrow door cut through the thick wall of the nursery.

Gotthold had repeatedly seen Cecilia, who always retired early in the evening, in this garden with the child, or--at a later hour--alone. His hope was to find her here, or at any rate to make known his presence, of which she had probably not been informed, and--he did not know what would, must happen then; he only said to himself that things could not, should not remain as they were.

The place, so far as it could be seen from the door, was empty, but a light appeared at first one and then another window. Cautiously as he closed the door, he could not prevent its creaking loudly on its rusty hinges; at the same moment a watch-dog with which Gretchen often played sprang towards the intruder with a loud bark, but was silent again as soon as it recognized Gotthold. He accepted the animal's caresses as a good omen, and walked cautiously on towards the light, which now streamed steadily from one window, that of the child's sleeping-room, which adjoined Cecilia's. Gotthold, with a beating heart, approached it and saw her.

She had apparently just put the little girl's playthings away, and then sank into a chair beside the table, supporting her forehead upon her left hand, the image of grief. The rays of the light standing behind her clearly revealed the exquisite shape of the head, the delicate outlines of the slender neck, the soft curves of the shoulders and bust, while the deep shadow seemed to increase the expression of sorrow upon the pure features. Gotthold's heart overflowed with love and pity.

"Cecilia, dearest Cecilia!" he murmured.

She could not have heard the words; but at that moment she raised her head, and, glancing towards the window, perceived the dark figure before it. Starting from her chair with a low exclamation of joy, she extended her arms, then waved him back with both hands, crying in tones of agony:

"No, no, for G.o.d's sake!"

Gotthold had neither seen Cecilia's repellent gesture, nor heard her words. He had hastily entered by the door, which was only latched, and was now kneeling at her feet, clasping her hands, and covering them with pa.s.sionate kisses.

All that had moved his heart and filled it to bursting during these last few days, so overflowing with the joy and anguish of love, all the nameless agony he had suffered from the night before until now, gushed from his lips in a torrent of wild, pa.s.sionate words; and, however she might struggle against it, she felt herself carried away and borne along by the tide, until, springing up and clasping her in his arms, he cried: "So come, Cecilia! you must not remain another moment in this house, must not stay under the same roof with this scoundrel, who allows himself to be paid with paltry money for the shame of knowing that his wife is beloved by another, and loves him in return. I went away without you this morning--it all came upon me so suddenly, was so incomprehensible; I thought I must obey your command, although I did not understand you, although you acted from compa.s.sion for the man whom you had once loved, nay, out of a remnant of affection for him. Now I understand you better, now I know, once for all, that you love me, now I have found--we have found each other again; now no one, nothing shall part us! Cecilia! you do not answer me?"

She had gazed at him with eyes that expressed the most painful astonishment. Now she seized the light and led the way into her chamber, at the back of which stood her bed, and close before it the tiny couch of her child.

The little one lay with her eyes not quite closed, her lips half parted, and her round cheeks flushed with the childish slumber which follows waking hours, as the hues of twilight follow the setting sun.

Cecilia did not point to the child; but her glance and the expression of her features said as plainly as words, "This is my answer."

Gotthold's eyes fell; in the selfishness of pa.s.sion he had scarcely thought of the child at all, and certainly never as an obstacle. He did not understand it even now. "Your child will be mine," he faltered.

"You shall never be parted from the child; I will never separate you from her."

She had placed the light on the floor, that it might not shine in Gretchen's eyes, and then knelt beside the little bed, pressing her forehead against the edge, and waving her hand for him to go. Gotthold stood beside the kneeling form with the despair of a man who feels that his cause is lost, and yet cannot and will not give it up. Suddenly the dog, which had followed them, began to growl, and then broke into a low bark as he put his nose to the threshold of the door which opened into the sitting-room; Gotthold thought he heard a rustling there, and walked towards it; Cecilia threw herself before him. Her countenance and gestures expressed the most deadly terror; she motioned towards the nursery, through which they had come, and as Gotthold did not instantly obey, hurried into the room herself. Gotthold mechanically followed.

"Go, go, for G.o.d's sake!" exclaimed Cecilia.

They were the first words that had escaped her lips.

"I will not fly again!"

"You must! or all has been in vain! The torture, the conflict, the shame--all, all."

"Cecilia," cried Gotthold, fairly beside himself, "I should be unworthy the name of a man, if I left you so again. I want light; I want to know what I am doing, why I am doing it?"

"I dare say no more; you must understand me; I thought you would have done so from the first, or I should not have had the courage; I should be the most miserable creature on earth if you did not understand me even now. But you will, or I could not love you. And now, by your love for me, Gotthold, you must not remain here an instant longer. Farewell, and farewell forever!"

It seemed as if a struggle had taken place between the two in the dimly-lighted room; he had held her and she had clung to him as if forever; then she desperately released herself from his hold, and pushed him from her, as if his presence must bring death and destruction. Then he once more held the dear form in his arms, clasped it to his heart, felt her hot, quivering lips pressed to his, and then stood outside in the garden, with the rain beating into his face, the swaying tree-tops above him rustling and whispering, and the tall hedges beside him hissing and muttering, as if with thousands and thousands of tongues: "Fool, silly fool, simpleton, to let yourself be cheated, once, twice, as often as she--or he chooses--how do I know?"

He burst into a loud laugh, and as he did so there was a burning sensation in his breast which grew hotter and hotter; he would have given much if he could have wept. But that he could not, would not do.

After all, nothing was yet decided; nothing was yet lost, although his soul was as dark as the black night that covered the earth around him.

No star pierced the rack of dense driving clouds; scarcely the faintest ray of light was visible in the west. And yet--this dull gleam came from the sun, which had set and would rise again to-morrow; it was a pledge that the gloomy night would not last forever. And on his lips still lingered a memory of her breath, the fervor of her kisses. No!

no! There could be no eternal separation! This torture could not last forever!

CHAPTER XX.

Pretty Rieke had been detained in the dining-room longer than she liked, the Pastor had performed his office of cup-bearer with an unsteady hand, and moreover thought it necessary to accompany the performance with long-winded, incoherent speeches; but the gentlemen at the gaming-table had drunk the faster, and impatiently demanded more, until at last Rieke, tired of the continual running to and fro which seemed to have no end, resolutely carried the side-board with the bowl upon it to the gaming-table, and thus rendered it possible for the willing Pastor to present the gla.s.ses he filled himself. Then, after leaning over Hans Redebas' chair and watching the game a few minutes, she glided hastily out of the room.