Withered Leaves - Volume Ii Part 21
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Volume Ii Part 21

Kuhl laughed loudly.

"Indeed you have suddenly set up quite new ideals for yourself, new for you and us that is to say, as they can be bought by the dozen at Leipzig fair."

"You would scoff away all that is strange to you, yet it continues to exist, and to exist in honour before the world. Besides, it is only a question of a good match; my poor mother would find a new, comfortable home. I myself should no longer stand with a dark future before me, which offers nothing but loneliness to the toil and trouble and age of coming years."

The Doctor's mockery ceased at this turn; it contained too sad a truth.

"When I, therefore, ask my common sense," continued Ccilie, while she blew a curling cloud of smoke into the air, "I receive an answer which really admits of no doubt, and the wicked world even maintains that common sense plays a preponderating part in me."

"Then the riddle is solved," said Kuhl.

"If I were to make comparisons they would certainly not all be drawn in favour of the deeply learned doctor of medicine, as he, in his self-complacency, may dream. Wegen is not so intellectual, but there is something dangerous, discomposing in intellect--and now even a chemist he would dissolve us into every variety of element; he would throw our characters into retorts, our advantages and failings into the scales, and once we are dismembered, what are we then? Wegen is not so intellectual, but neither is he paradoxical; he would not set the world upon its head. As regards beauty, well, that is a matter of taste. He is no Apollo, but a Hercules is not one either. His faults are those of his virtues, but others only possess the virtues of their faults, in short--"

"In short," interrupted Kuhl, "one does not need to be a great mathematician to see who would fare the worst in this problem.

Certainly the bliss of former affection is not included in this calculation, the promises of that beautiful alliance, the recollections of happy hours, in which heart met heart, or elevated moments in which mind spoke to mind. It is the indifferent cold souls for which no past exists, when a pleasant future beckons to them."

"You do me injustice," said Ccilie, laying her cigarette aside.

"Or," continued Kuhl, inexorably, "you are meditating treachery; you would destroy our alliance by force. It is a commercial transaction--a matter of business! I have for long already expected a decisive act--I will antic.i.p.ate it. Perhaps I should be preferred to Wegen, if I would buy that privilege with the same price that he will pay."

Now Ccilie interrupted him hastily, her eyes flashed fire, her whole body vibrated with pa.s.sion.

"So little do you know me, Paul? So little do you all know me? What are the others to me, even if they possessed the crowns of princes, and the treasures of Golconda, and united all the virtues of the world within themselves? I have learned to see everything with your eyes--I should become blind if I were to lose you! If I must leave you, I should feel as if I were thrust out into an endless desert. How lonely I should feel in, the forests of Masuren--in the orange gardens of Italy! What is my life? Fire of your fire--soul of your soul!"

It was the language of unalloyed pa.s.sion; in those words lay perfect truthfulness of feeling, which also ignites in her beloved one's heart; but he still stood hesitatingly, he did not dare to fold this slender girl, who so often had threatened to escape him, with perfect confidence to his heart. Ccilie perceived his hesitation; she knew the cause, also, and what she now said, while coming insinuatingly towards him, was no longer the true meaning of her heart.

"You think that I shall make conditions, I shall insist upon the right of exclusiveness which such glowing love demands? No, no, let all remain as before. May another offer his whole life to me. Your vicinity--your love is my felicity, and I do not ask if your heart belongs to me alone! Let there be other happy ones beside me, I will learn to understand you entirely."

Now only did Kuhl believe himself justified in folding the girl unreservedly to his heart.

"And as a seal upon our newly-formed alliance, dear Paul--an alliance for which, in the eyes of the world, I have made a great sacrifice, we will take a ride together, tomorrow, but this time without Olga--you and I alone. This little distinction you owe to me."

Kuhl a.s.sented! The supper with his mother and the two Frulein von Dornau pa.s.sed off most cheerfully. Olga, as yet, knew nothing of Ccilie's desperate resolution; she looked upon her sister as Wegen's bride, and, therefore, was in a most happy mood--the champagne stirred her blood to flow more briskly--she even made some droll remarks. But Ccilie sparkled with intellect, and developed such bold theories, that Paul delightedly followed her dizzy flight.

On the following day, Wegen looked out of the window of his hotel. It was a cold day, but he must inhale fresh air--his heart was too full.

He had put on a fur cap, and defied the rough wind that coloured his cheeks more deeply.

Suddenly the sound of horses' hoofs resounded on the pavement--a lady and gentleman riding! How proudly the slender lady sat, allowing her black horse to curvet! Wegen had at once recognised the gentleman to be Dr. Kuhl! But the lady--did his eyes deceive him? Had the wind dazzled them with the dust that was blown about? There could be no doubt--it was Ccilie!

He became pale, and started back from the window. The sudden movement had swept away his fur cap, and his few fair hairs waved mournfully in the wind. The sound of the hoofs died away upon the pavement.

Wegen sat upon the sofa, his cigar had gone out; he was utterly void of thought. He rang for his servant, so as to go to bed, when he suddenly recollected that it was only noon. He had his frock-coat with the Cross of the Order brought to him, and put it on; then he remembered that it was not today that he was to pay the decisive visit.

And should he, indeed, still pay the visit? Had she had not openly set herself free? Was this ride not an intelligible reply?

To be sure, now she must write to him herself, must spare him the humiliation of once more knocking in vain at her door. He did not leave the house; he expected the letter that contained the verdict of his death, but the letter did not come.

The ride had not remained unnoticed in the town; Kuhl was a public character--he was talked of in all circles. He had often been seen on horseback with the two Frulein van Dornau; to-day he only appeared with the one. What had happened? The world's opinion is always ready to draw conclusions from facts, even if they be ever so premature. The intelligence spread from drawing-room to drawing-room, that Dr. Kuhl had come to a decision at last, and in favour of Ccilie. Amongst the Dornaus themselves the liveliest scenes had been enacted. When Ccilie had p.r.o.nounced her immutable intention of rejecting Herr von Wegen's offer, her mother had sobbed and wept, and Olga even was roused to a fire of indignation that was almost unknown to her imperturbable calm; she pourtrayed Wegen's advantages in the most glowing colours, and cast the bitterest reproaches upon her sister. Were not her own secret hopes annihilated by such lamentable obduracy?

Ccilie, however, with her wonted superiority, knew how to calm these excited emotions; she regained their entire sympathy by the declaration that she could not love Wegen, and would not marry without love; she moved Olga to tears by such n.o.ble sentiments. The sisters were soon perfectly reconciled to one another, and Olga even promised, at Ccilie's desire, to receive Herr von Wegen, and impart the ungratifying news to him.

The following day, Wegen appeared in the frame of mind of a prisoner who is sure of a condemnatory verdict; it was a comfort for him that Ccilie did not personally announce her decision. Olga received him, and from her lips the intimation that he was rejected sounded more consolatory.

Ccilie desired the explanation to be, that, after mature consideration, she found she was not suited for the country, nor for the Masuren n.o.bility; she should not be capable of making him happy, she therefore declined his offer with thanks, but counted upon his permanent friendship.

Wegen having expected this intimation, it had lost its crushing weight for him, but what he had not expected was such a kindly bearer of the fatal decision.

In his blind pa.s.sion for Ccilie, he had never troubled himself about Olga; she was cast too far into the shade by the radiance that proceeded from her sister. He had often hardly remarked her presence, and yet her appearance was grand and imposing enough.

In fact, he had been very blind; to-day he must confess it to himself, when he, like Scipio upon the ruins of Carthage, sat upon those of his first love. From want of an appropriate reply, which it is not so easy to find to such disclosures, he contemplated Olga at first with a mournful glance and rather absently, then with increasing interest, for she spoke in such a cordial tone to console him, and the more he looked at her, the more did he discover that she was a handsome girl, not so intellectual as Ccilie, but certainly more calculated to make an impression upon peoples' minds in Masuren than her sister. These were vague ideas, which were reflected in the most shadowy outlines upon the remotest background of his mind; he would have repelled them energetically had they ventured farther into the light, as unseemly and impious.

Nevertheless he had already sinned against well-founded custom of immediately taking up his hat, after such an intimation, and retiring from the scene. Olga chatted so innocently, she led the conversation with such tact to indifferent matters, but these indifferent matters were full of a special interest for Wegen. Olga's heart was not with George Sand and the _pre_ Enfantin, even although she must talk about them with Dr. Kuhl, and was fairly at home in the great questions upon which the welfare of mankind depended, had even made a note of several stock-phrases; but when dress, family events, engagements, or the affairs of relations were under discussion, then her whole nature warmed, and she quite forgot that all these subjects were most heterodox, and in part were even opposed to the social programme of the future, by which she had been obliged to swear in Dr. Kuhl's chemical laboratory. She gave Baron von Wegen great pleasure by her unexpected knowledge of all his extensive family; she knew the Wegens of l.a.b.i.au and the Wegens at Insterburg. She had even once spoken to the old uncle, whose heir he was, and who lived close to the Memel in the Lithuanian woods; she was able to distinguish between first cousins and those who were more distantly connected. She planted the family tree of the Wegens before him with as steady a hand as did Joan of Arc the standard with the lilies of the Valois; and he must indeed be a degenerate n.o.bleman who would not thus be flattered and reminded of home.

And as a good genius watched over this conversation, seeking with a soothing salve to heal a wounded heart, the discussion, by means of a sudden turn, was led to the East Prussian cookery. That was a subject of conversation to which Wegen brought a cultivated mind, and Olga, too, was quite at home in it, although she did prefer to contribute her share more to the enjoyment than to the creation of great performances in the kitchen; but she was able to give accurate information about every fish in the sea, every beast in the forest, yes, even the dwellers in carp-ponds and pheasantrys, and to determine all the sauces which, as it were, are ordained for each. This conversation was so interesting to Wegen, that when he took up his hat he had quite forgotten the cause which brought him, the terrible defeat he had sustained. As the friendship which Ccilie had promised to him was however not possible without continuing some intercourse, Wegen easily obtained permission to repeat his visits, and, in Ccilie's name, Olga believed herself justified in granting it.

When he left the house, Wegen was not at all in the mental condition of a rejected candidate for matrimony, which is indeed one of the most crushing which paralyses and benumbs mortal nerves. He was astonished at himself when he hummed a Lithuanian popular air, which did not breathe the elegiac spirit of the prose of an expiring race of people, but which sounded quite lively and full of enterprise. He immediately called himself to order, but he could not quite suppress a disagreeable sensation; upon close self examination he discovered in himself, although in faint outlines, a dawning resemblance to Dr. Kuhl, whom he abhorred with all due sense of propriety. Ccilie meanwhile had come out from behind the _portire_, and imparted a warm eulogium to her sister for the delicacy and adroitness with which she had acquitted herself of the disagreeable task.

When Ccilie seated herself at the worktable, a slight smile of contentment hovered round her lips. Everything was going as she wished and had planned, and she flattered herself that she had attained the desired object.

CHAPTER XI.

IN THE CHURCHYARD.

Blanden devoted himself most zealously to looking after the people who had suffered from the fire on his farm, and to the necessary new buildings; he seemed to be inspired with a renewed breath of life; the impetus to labour and work, which had lain perfectly dormant within him since those occurrences at the sea-side roused him afresh. Winter meanwhile had set in, and made the solitude at Kulmitten still more dreary. Blanden's resolution to form a settled home became more and more fixed, and the picture of the beautiful singer as the future G.o.ddess of the house pervaded his waking dreams with daily increasing persistency.

He began, too, to care more about political matters, the progress of which latterly he had only silently watched. His conviction gained strength that, despite all obstacles, the Prussian State would obtain a const.i.tution, and all the provinces be united by one common bond. Then a political career would be opened to him once again; he should no longer be dependant upon the judgment of his equals in this district; he could then stand before the population of the entire province as a candidate for election.

That the continuance of the provincial a.s.semblies in their present state could not last much longer was his fixed opinion, but in order to gain distinct views of the new course which the future should disclose to him, he must make his name known in more extensive circles; he must be called the champion of the political movement. A welcome opportunity for it was offered to him by the a.s.semblies of the citizens in the provincial capital, which a.s.semblies had been recently formed, and he did not hesitate to intimate to the committee that he should deliver a lecture upon the French organisation and the July dynasty.

Meanwhile, in the newspapers he read an announcement of an operatic performance in which Signora Bollini should again take part; thus he inferred that she had returned from Riga. He immediately ordered his four black horses to be harnessed, and hastened to the capital by the shortest route. He arrived there amid a violent downfall of snow and terribly boisterous wind. He prepared to visit Giulia at once; his road led him past a churchyard, through the gateway of which a little funeral procession was pa.s.sing. Closely concealed as the faces were in cloaks and furs, some of them appeared very familiar to him; they were the companions of those times, the late effects of which had prepared such bitter pain for him. He recognised them again, greatly as they were altered; not only was it the snow falling from heaven, it was also the snow of age that silvered their hair. He believed that he perceived amongst the followers the Breaker of the Seal, the former minister of the community, who was now deposed from his office of teacher. Whom did they bear to the tomb? Curiosity drove him to join the procession. When it had drawn near to the open grave, Blanden asked the person next to him who was being buried?

"Frau Hamptmann Salden," was the hoa.r.s.e reply.

At that moment they began to sing beside the tomb; a violent gust of wind shook the snow from the cypresses, and whirled it up from every grave, which had been softly bedded in its lap. The shivering a.s.sembly seemed to be animated but by the one desire that the burial ceremony might soon be over.

Blanden rested his head upon a lofty tombstone, his tears flowed unrestrainedly. How deserving of tears every human life seems to be, when a thoughtful mind sums up its years in as many seconds! How mournful are his short-lived joys, and how many terrors does the span of time contain! No funeral oration disturbed his reflections; the ministers who would gladly have spoken beside this grave, dared not perform their office, and from the others accusations were feared which might have disturbed the peacefulness of the tomb.

While the wind buried in its gusts the sounds of the choral singing, Blanden thought of the youthful, beautiful Pauline; he thought of lovely Eva! Mother and daughter were blended in one picture; it was a shadowy portrait in which their features became united. But the one reposed in the ocean's lap, the other in wintry earth!

Already the clods fell with a hollow sound upon the coffin, thrown in hastily by half-frozen hands, and, after a hurried performance of the last verse of the hymn, the a.s.sembly rushed away as if carried off by the bride of the storm, which, howling hoa.r.s.ely, swept over the lonely graves.

Blanden had maintained his concealment behind the monument and cypresses; now he stepped forth; sadly he cast the hard clods of earth upon the coffin; his soul was _one_ thought of love--_one_ prayer for forgiveness, because dark self-accusations were stirred in his heart.

Deeply buried in meditation, he did not observe that the wind had become a hurricane, cracking the boughs of the trees on every side, casting one weeping-willow to the ground, that the earth groaned, and hardly permitted him to stand upright. The grave-diggers had already laid their spades aside, and taken refuge in the dead-house.

Suddenly something struggled before him through the snow; he saw a fluttering cloak, and a bare-headed girl upon her knees in front of him; stars of snow nestled in her tangled hair, gla.s.sy eyes stared up at him, and glowing kisses covered his hands.