Ulric started up; the happy influence of her first words had been quite destroyed by the close of her speech. His face had grown pale, when he guessed what was her object, and he broke out recklessly,

"Let that matter be, my lady. If you offer me money, you too, I shall wish I had let the carriage go over with all that was in it!"

Eugenie was a little startled by this outbreak of that savage wildness for which Ulric Hartmann was feared by every one about the works. Such a look and such a tone had certainly never been addressed to Baron Windegs daughter; it was indeed the first time she had been brought in contact with one belonging to the working cla.s.ses. She rose offended.

"I do not wish to impose my thanks upon you. If the expression of them displeases you so much, I regret that I should have called you hither."

She turned away and was about to leave the room, but the movement brought Ulric to his senses. He took one hasty step forwards.

"My lady--I--forgive me! I would not vex _you_ for the world!"

Eugenie was struck by the pa.s.sionate, remorseful tone. She stopped and looked at him, seeking in his face for the key to his strange conduct; but his vehement cry for pardon had disarmed her.

"You would not vex _me_?" she repeated, "but you do not mind how much you hurt other people's feelings by your ungracious ways? The Director's, for instance, and Herr Wilberg's?"

"No, I do not," returned Ulric, "no more than they would mind hurting mine, if the case were reversed. There is no talk of friendliness between the officials and us."

"No?" asked Eugenie in surprise. "I did not know that the officials and the hands were on such bad terms, and Herr Berkow cannot suspect it either, or he would a.s.suredly have tried to mediate."

"Herr Berkow," said Ulric, sharply, "has cared during the last twenty years for every possible thing on the works, except for the welfare of the hands employed, and so it will go on, until we begin caring a little about him, and then--oh, my lady! I was forgetting that you are his son's wife. Forgive me!"

She was silent, a little confounded by his reckless plain-speaking.

What she now heard was, in truth, only what had often before been hinted in her presence about her father-in-law, but the terrible bitterness of these words made her feel all the depth of the gulf which lay between him and his subordinates. Whoever brought an accusation against Berkow was sure beforehand of having his daughter-in-law's sympathy. Eugenie had herself had bitter proof of his unscrupulousness, but she was sensible that, as his son's wife, she ought not to make this evident. If she noticed Hartmann's last speech at all, it must be to reprove him, and she preferred to let it pa.s.s.

"So you will not accept any mark of our grat.i.tude, not even from my hands?" she began again, waiving the dangerous subject. "Well, then, I can do nothing but tender my thanks to the man who saved me from certain death. Will you reject them, too? I thank you, Hartmann!"

She held out her hand to him. It lay only a few seconds, white and delicate as a flower, in the miner's strong work-hardened palm, but its touch sent a quiver through him. All the bitterness went out of his face, the threatening look from his eyes; the defiant head was bent over her outstretched hand, and his features bore an expression of gentleness and submissiveness, which none of his superiors could ever boast of having seen on Ulric Hartmann's countenance.

"Oh, you are giving audience here, Eugenie, and to one of our people!"

Berkow's voice sounded behind them, as he opened the door at this moment, and came in, accompanied by his son. Eugenie drew back her hand and Ulric stood up erect. As those tones met his ear, he resumed his characteristic att.i.tude of silent hostility, which became even more marked, as Arthur exclaimed, with a sharpness, oddly contrasting with his habitual languid manner,

"Hartmann, how do you come here?"

"Hartmann?" repeated Berkow, attracted by the name, and going up nearer. "Oh, here we have our friend the agitator, who"----

"Who stopped our horses when they were running away in their mad fright, and who was injured himself in saving our lives!" put in Eugenie, quietly, but very decidedly.

"Ah, yes!" said Berkow, disconcerted by this reminder, and by his daughter-in-law's resolute look. "Yes, indeed, I heard of it, and the Director was telling me that you and Arthur had already given a proof of your sense of the obligation. The young man has come, no doubt, to express his thanks. I hope you were satisfied, Hartmann?"

The cloud rolled back on Ulric's brow blacker and more menacing than ever, and the reply, which hovered on his lips, would probably have brought down on him the most serious consequences. Eugenie stepped up to her protege and touched him lightly on the arm with her fan. The miner understood the warning; he looked at her, saw the unconcealed anxiety in her eyes, and his hatred and defiance gave way once more. He answered quietly, almost coldly:

"Certainly, Herr Berkow, I am satisfied with her ladyship's thanks."

"I am glad of it," said Berkow, shortly.

Ulric turned to Eugenie.

"I can go now, my lady?"

She bowed her head in silent a.s.sent. She saw but too plainly what constraint the man had to put on himself in order to remain quiet. With one slight movement of the head directed to the master and his son, a salutation evidently bestowed with much reluctance, he left the room.

"Well, I must confess that your protege has not very good manners,"

remarked Berkow, with a sneer. "He takes leave in rather an off-hand way, and does not wait to be dismissed. But there, how can such people learn the proper way to behave! Arthur, you seem to find something remarkably interesting in this Hartmann. I hope you have looked after him long enough?"

Arthur's eyes had indeed followed the miner with an intent gaze, and they were still fixed on the door he had closed behind him. The young man's eyebrows were drawn together slightly, and his lips firmly set.

At his father's remark, he turned round.

The latter went up to his daughter-in-law, with a great show of politeness.

"I regret, Eugenie, that your complete ignorance of the state of things here should have led you to an act of excessive condescension. You, naturally, could have no idea of the part that fellow plays among his comrades, but he should, on no account, have been permitted to come to this house, much less to enter your boudoir, even under the pretext of returning thanks for a present."

The lady had seated herself, but there was a look on her face which made it seem advisable to her father-in-law to remain standing, instead of taking a place at her side as he at first intended. She compelled him too "to admire her only from a distance."

"I see they have only told you half the story," she answered, coolly.

"May I ask when you last spoke to the Director?"

"This morning, when I learned from him that he had been commissioned to hand over to Hartmann a sum, which I, by the way, consider much too large. It is quite a fortune to such people! But I do not wish to lay any restrictions on you and Arthur, if you think it right to show your grat.i.tude in this exaggerated way."

"So you do not know that the young man has refused the money altogether?"

"Re--refused?" cried Berkow, starting back.

"Refused?" repeated Arthur. "Why?"

"Probably because it offended him to be put off with a sum of money offered through a third person, while those whom he had saved did not think it worth their while to add even a word of thanks. I have made good this latter negligence, but I could not persuade him to accept the smallest thing. It does not seem as though the Director had managed the matter so 'admirably.'"

Arthur bit his lip. He knew these words were meant for him, though they were spoken to his father.

"It appears, then, you sent for him yourself?" he asked.

"Certainly."

"I wish you had left it undone," said Berkow, somewhat irritated. "This Hartmann is pointed out to me on all sides as the chief promoter of that revolutionary spirit which I am about to meet with the utmost severity. I see now that too much has not been said about him. If this fellow dares to refuse such a sum, because it has not been paid to him with all the ceremony his mightiness demands, he may well be capable of anything. I must remind you, Eugenie, that there are certain considerations my daughter-in-law must keep in mind even when she is giving a proof of her kind feeling."

The old contemptuous look played about Eugenie's lips. Remembering the compulsion to which she had been subjected, she felt but little disposed to yield to her father-in-law's wishes, and the bitter thought of it rising within her made her overlook the real justice of what he said.

"I am sorry, Herr Berkow," she answered, icily, "that other considerations must have weight with me besides any your daughter-in-law may be bound to regard. This was an exceptional case, and you must allow me to act on my own judgment in such matters both now and for the future."

She was again every inch the Baroness Windeg, as she thus recalled the plebeian millionaire to his place; but whether the cause of dispute had angered him too much, or whether the wine, which had flowed so freely at dinner, had produced some little effect on him, he did not this time show her the same boundless respect, but answered with some heat,

"Really? Well, then, I shall thank you to remember,"----but he got no further in his speech, for Arthur, who had remained in the background so far, taking no part in the conversation, stood up all at once at his wife's side, and said quietly,

"I must beg you, sir, to put an end to this unpleasant discussion.--I have left Eugenie unlimited freedom of action, and I do not wish that any one else should attempt to restrain it."

Berkow looked at his son as though he had not heard aright. He was accustomed to see Arthur display the most pa.s.sive indifference on all occasions, great and small, and was as much surprised by his son's interference as by this open championship.

"You seem to have quite gone over to the opposition to-day," he returned in a jesting tone. "I shall do well to beat a retreat before such combined forces, particularly as I have some business matters to attend to still. I hope I may find you rather less disposed to quarrel to-morrow, Eugenie; and you, Arthur, somewhat more tractable than you have shown yourself to-day. I wish you both a good evening."