Success and How He Won It.

by E. Werner.

SUCCESS.

CHAPTER I.

It was growing late in the afternoon, yet the princ.i.p.al church of the capital was still densely filled. From the numbers present, the beautiful floral decorations of the altar, and the long line of handsome equipages waiting without, it was evident that the ceremony about to be celebrated had awakened interest and sympathy far and wide.

As usual on such occasions, when the sacredness of the place forbids any distinct utterance of curiosity, or other feeling, the spectators found vent for the restlessness of expectation by whispering, and the gathering together of heads in little groups, and by an eager attention to all that was going on in the neighbourhood of the vestry. A general exclamation of satisfaction was heard when its doors opened, and, as the first tones of the organ pealed forth, the wedding party appeared.

A numerous and brilliant company thronged round the bridal pair at the altar. Rich uniforms, heavy velvet and satin dresses, airy fabrics of lace, flowers and diamonds waved and rustled confusedly in a truly dazzling splendour. The aristocracy of birth, and the aristocracy of finance, represented each by its most distinguished members, had met, as it seemed, to enhance the prestige of the marriage ceremony.

To the right of the bride, first among the guests, stood a tall and stately officer, whose uniform and various orders bore witness to a long military career. His bearing was simple and dignified, suited to the solemnity of the occasion, and yet it seemed as though, behind the set gravity of the features, there lurked a something at variance with so joyful an event. His look was singularly gloomy as it rested on the young couple, and, when he turned from them and glanced through the crowded church, an expression of suppressed pain, or anger, pa.s.sed over the proud face, and the firmly-closed lips trembled slightly.

Opposite him, and next to the bridegroom, stood a gentleman in plain clothes, also advanced in years, and also, as it appeared, closely related to the young people; but neither his lavish display of brilliants in watch, rings and pin, nor the extreme self-importance of his bearing, could procure for him a shade of that distinction which his opposite neighbour possessed in so eminent a degree. His whole appearance was decidedly ordinary, not to say vulgar, and even the unconcealed triumph now illumining his countenance could set no other impress on it.

The triumph was, indeed, great with which he gazed on the bridal pair, and he looked down the aisle on the closely-packed rows of chairs and on all the bright a.s.sembly, with the satisfaction of one, who, after long striving, sees and welcomes the fulfilment of his aims and hopes; clearly, no shadow troubled _his_ gladness at the event now to be solemnised.

But of all present, these two men alone appeared to take a deep interest in what was pa.s.sing; least of all were the princ.i.p.al actors moved. The most unsympathising of the guests, the greatest stranger, could hardly have shown a more complete indifference to the solemn act about to be performed than these two, who, in a few minutes, would be for ever united.

The bride was about nineteen, and of undeniable beauty, but around her there seemed to reign a sort of icy chill, which ill became the hour and the place. The light from the altar-candles played on the thick folds of her white satin dress, shone in the diamonds of her costly ornaments; but it fell on a face which, with the beauty of marble, seemed for the time being at least--a time when the most frigid calm might naturally yield and kindle--to have acquired also a statue-like coldness and fixity.

The flaxen hue of the heavy tresses, on which her myrtle wreath rested, contrasted strangely with the well-marked eyebrows, and dark, almost black eyes, uplifted to the priest but once or twice during the entire ceremony. The pale, regular features, shaded on either side by her flowing veil, bore that distinctive mark of breeding which birth, and birth alone, can give. Indeed this high-bred air was the chief characteristic of her appearance; it showed itself not only in her delicate and n.o.ble features, but was so plainly stamped on her carriage and entire being, that all other qualities, some, perhaps, striking even deeper root, were by it overshadowed and held in the background.

A young lady fitted only, it would seem, for the higher spheres of life, never to be brought in contact with those possible men and things which, perchance, may exist in its lower phases. Yet, in spite of all this, something in the dark eyes betrayed more energy and character than are usually found in a lady of fashion, and possibly the present hour was one to call such energy and such strength of nature to the front. As the ceremony proceeded, the gentleman in uniform to her right, and three younger officers who stood behind him, gazed, ever more intently, ever more anxiously, at her face; it remained, however, calm and impa.s.sible as it had been from the first.

The bridegroom at her side was a young man of about eight-and-twenty, one of those not very uncommon individuals who seem expressly created for the gilded surroundings of a salon, who there alone find their significance, obtain their triumphs and pa.s.s their lives. Blamelessly correct in mien and toilette, his whole being seemed to denote the extremity of languor. His features, fine and agreeable in themselves, bore an expression of apathy so complete, of so boundless an indifference to all and everything, that they lost their charm for the observer. He had led his bride to the altar with the air of a man leading a lady to the place destined for her in any ordinary a.s.sembly, and he now stood by her, and held her hand, in precisely the same apathetic fashion. Neither the importance of the step he was about to take, nor the beauty of the woman he was there to wed, seemed to make the slightest impression on him.

The priest's discourse came to an end and he proceeded to the actual marriage service. Loud and clear his voice rang through the church, as he asked Arthur Berkow and the Baroness Eugenie Maria Anna von Windeg-Babenau if they consented to take each other for man and wife.

Again the officer's face twitched nervously, and he darted a look almost of hatred across to the other side. Next minute the double "yes"

was spoken, and one of the oldest, proudest of aristocratic names had been exchanged for the simple, plebeian Berkow.

Hardly was the service over and the last word of the concluding benediction uttered, when the gentleman wearing the handsome brilliants pressed hastily forwards, evidently intending to embrace the newly-married lady with much ostentation. Before, however, he could carry out his project, the officer stepped between them; quickly, as though claiming an indisputable right to be first, he took the young bride in his arms; but the lips which touched her forehead were cold, and his face, as he bent over her, remained hidden a few seconds from all around. When he raised it, his expression had changed to one of calm and quiet dignity.

"Courage, father, it had to be!"

These words, intelligible to him alone, were breathed so low as to be barely audible, but they gave him back his self-command. Again he pressed his daughter to him with a wistful tenderness, which had in it something like a prayer for pardon. Then he left her free, giving her over to the now inevitable embrace of the other, who had waited with visible impatience, and would no longer be deprived of his right to salute "his dear daughter-in-law."

She certainly made no attempt to withdraw herself from him, for the eyes of the whole church were upon her. Standing motionless, with no shade of disturbance on her beautiful face, she only raised her eyes to him; but in her look there was a haughtiness so unapproachable, so icy a repulse of that which could not be openly refused, that she made herself understood even here.

Somewhat disconcerted, her father-in-law changed his vehement demonstration of affection to an att.i.tude of respectful politeness, and the embrace, which immediately followed, was in reality little more than a form, his arms touching nothing more substantial than the flowing drapery of her bridal veil. The new relation's a.s.surance, though certainly far from small, had yet not held its ground before that glance.

Young Berkow made things easier for his father-in-law. Something pa.s.sed between them which looked like shaking hands, but, in truth, his white kid gloves hardly came into contact with those of the Baron. It seemed, however, fully to suffice them both; he then offered his arm to his young wife and led her away. The bride's satin train rustled over the marble steps and down the aisle as the two pa.s.sed out, followed by the guests in gay procession. Shortly afterwards the carriages outside were heard to drive away one by one.

The church was soon emptied. Some pressed to the doors to see the departing visitors once more; some hastened out to give vent to all their important observations and reflections with regard to the toilette, bearing and appearance of the young couple and those nearly connected with them. In less than ten minutes the vast place was empty and deserted; only the evening glow shone through the tall windows and flooded the altar and great altar-piece with its crimson light, so that the figures on the old golden background seemed quickened into life.

Fanned by a current of air, the candles flared unsteadily, and the flowers, lying crushed and trampled under foot on the ground, where they had been so prodigally strewn, breathed forth their dying odours.

What better end could the poor flowers serve amid such a blaze of jewels, on so high a festival as this, when the daughter of an old baronial house had been given in marriage to the son of the city millionaire?

The carriages had already reached the Windeg mansion, and life and movement were beginning to circulate through the gaily lighted rooms.

In the princ.i.p.al salon, radiantly illuminated by countless wax-lights, the young bride stood leaning on her husband's arm, cold, beautiful and haughty, as she had stood at the altar an hour before, and received the congratulations of the eager friends pressing round her with their good wishes.

Had she really set the seal on her own happiness by that "yes" she had so lately spoken?--the dark shadow still resting on her father's brow might perhaps have given the fitting answer.

CHAPTER II.

"Well, thank Heaven, we are in order at last! but it was high time, for they may be here in another quarter of an hour. I have given the people up on the hill full instructions; as soon as the carriage is visible on the heights, the first salute is to be given."

"Why, my dear Director, you are all fire and excitement to-day!"

"Keep some of your strength for the important moment of the reception."

"Indeed, your present position as Master of the Ceremonies and Lord High Chamberlain" ...

"Spare your pleasantries, gentlemen!" said the Director with some vexation in his tone. "I wish one of you had been honoured with this confounded post. I have had enough of it!"

The entire staff of officials connected with the great Berkow mines was a.s.sembled in full dress at the foot of the terrace running before the chateau. Built in the style of an elegant and modern villa with a handsome facade, great plate-gla.s.s windows and a fine entrance, the house produced a striking effect, which was still further heightened by the tasteful gardens surrounding it on all sides, and looking specially beautiful to-day in their fete-like dress.

The conservatories had evidently been stripped of their richest treasures for the decoration of the steps, balconies and terraces. The rarest and most precious plants, so seldom brought in contact with the outer air, unfolded here their wealth of colour, and perfumed the air with their sweet scents. On the broad lawns stood fountains, throwing high into the air their sparkling waters, and round them, most carefully cultivated, bloomed all the native beauties of spring in her first awakening. At the chief entrance a lofty triumphal arch was reared, all decked with flags and garlands, and the great gates, thrown wide open, were also twined with flowers.

"I have had enough of it!" repeated the Director, stepping up to the other gentlemen. "Herr Berkow demands the most brilliant reception possible, and thinks he has done everything when he gives us unlimited credit. As to the good-will of the people, he never takes that into account. Well and good, if we had the working men of twenty years ago to deal with! When, for once in a way, there came an off-day then, any kind of a holiday with a dance in the evening, one need never be anxious about the way they would cheer; but now--what with pa.s.sive indifference on the one hand, and open hostility on the other, they were very near refusing to give any reception at all to their young master and his bride. If you go back to town to-morrow, Herr Schaffer, it would do no harm, in your report of our festive doings, to let a hint drop of the state of things. It seems they either do not, or will not, know of it there."

"That I certainly shall not!" returned the other. "Do you care to listen to our respected governor's very polite language when he has to hear of anything unpleasant? As for me, I prefer at such times to retire to the greatest possible distance from his august person."

The others laughed; it hardly seemed as though the absent master were held in much veneration among them.

"So he really has brought about the grand marriage," began the chief engineer. "He has given himself trouble enough about it. It will be some compensation for that patent of n.o.bility which has been hitherto so persistently denied him, and for which, above all else, his soul yearns. He has, at least, the triumph of seeing that the n.o.ble old houses feel no prejudice against him as a plain commoner. The Windegs are willing to ally themselves with him."

Herr Schaffer shrugged his shoulders. "They had no choice left. The embarra.s.sed state of the family affairs is no secret in the city. I doubt if it has been an easy thing to the proud Baron to give up his daughter on such a speculation. The Windegs have always been, not only among the oldest, but also among the haughtiest of the aristocracy; but even pride must bend to a bitter necessity."

"One thing is certain, this grand connection will cost us a famous sum of money," said the Director. "The Baron is sure to have made his conditions. Besides, I really do not see the object of all these sacrifices. I could understand it, if they were made with a view to buying rank and a t.i.tle for a daughter, but Herr Arthur will be just as plebeian as before, in spite of his wife's ancient lineage."

"Do you think so? I would wager not. They will grant to the husband of a Baroness Windeg-Babenau, to the Baron's son-in-law, all that his father has striven for in vain; and, as for the latter, in his daughter-in-law's salon, nothing can hinder him from meeting all the people who have hitherto held him at a respectful distance. Don't tell me! The governor knows well enough what this marriage will bring him in, and so he can afford to pay something for the cost of it."

One of the officials, a fair young man with a tight-fitting dress-coat and irreproachable gloves, here thought fit to put in an observation.

"For my part, I don't understand why the newly-married pair should make their wedding trip to our solitudes, and not rather to the land of poetry, to Italy" ....

The chief-engineer laughed out loud.