"Good!" said he, "charming! but in any case I am to be the vendor!"

"How do you mean, Count Golm?" said the Councillor.

"Why it is plain enough," answered the Count. "I as neighbour and son-in-law get the property considerably cheaper than the company, who, besides, cannot possibly want the whole thing. So I prefer selling what they want to the company, then buying back from the company what is necessary for the completion of my estate. I think that is clear."

It was very clear to the Councillor, had been quite clear from the first moment, and he had only wanted time to recover from his surprise.

The Count's move was a masterly one, which he had never expected from the reckless young man. He was in the strange position of being obliged to curb the ardour which he had so artfully roused.

"Bravo!" said he. "We shall have a skilful director in you. I congratulate ourselves and you in the prospect. At the same time, we will not divide the skin till we have killed the bear. Till now we have been reckoning without one person, who is, however, very powerful--without the Baroness Warnow herself."

"But if she is in the hands of her trustee, and you and Wallbach could get the better of the General----"

"Only till the first of October! From that day, which happens to be her fiftieth birthday, the Baroness, by her husband's will, has a voice amongst the trustees, who then, if you like, become only a committee of management under her."

"And you think that the Baroness will be against our plan?"

"I think that the opinion of the Baroness upon this and every other matter is of infinitely less importance to us than that of Signor Giraldi."

"Her steward?"

"Steward--secretary--companion, I do not know what."

"They say that she is married to him?"

"She will take care not to do that!"

"Why?"

"Because by taking such a step she would lose all right to the estate, which would then fall immediately to Fraulein von Werben and her brother, provided they had not imitated the folly of their aunt in marrying below their rank. Then no one would have any of it except various benevolent inst.i.tutions."

"I have, as you may imagine, heard all possible and impossible things of that wonderful will. Can you and will you satisfy my curiosity, which now hardly deserves that name?"

"Willingly," said the Councillor. "The slight indiscretion which I shall commit in so doing I will put down to my credit in our accounts; but where shall I begin?"

"At the beginning," said the Count. "I know a great deal--I know very little--I know nothing. You see I am already practising the jargon with some facility. Shall I send for another bottle?"

"Thanks, thanks. I have still another visit before me; but you are right, you must know all now, and I will endeavour to be as brief as possible."

He put his watch which he had just taken out back into his pocket; the Count leaned back in his chair, and began to rock himself, while the Councillor scribbled on a bit of paper, and was silent for a few moments, as if to collect his thoughts.

"You must not expect a private history from me; I could not tell it to you even if I wished, as in regard to the intimate relations and feelings of those concerned, I am no better informed than other people, and I never venture upon the dangerous path of guesses except in general meetings, when the shareholders are very unruly. So I must limit myself to relating the facts in chronological order. Well, you know that the d.u.c.h.ess of ---- is a distant relation of our royal family. Fraulein Valerie von Werben, as well as her elder sister, Sidonie, grew up here in Berlin with the Princess. When the Princess married she first took Valerie to her new court, and when the latter also married, she allowed the far less interesting and amusing Sidonie--I think out of charity--to take her place. But that is only by the way.

"Baron Warnow made Fraulein Valerie's acquaintance in ----, where--for in those days we were still courteous enough to send amba.s.sadors even to small courts--he held that office. To see, love, and marry the handsome and clever girl, and to give up his office to be able to devote his whole life to her, was the result of a single impulse. That was in the year 1840.

"From '40 to '43 the young couple lived in Warnow--how? I should be sorry to say positively; but to judge from my knowledge of mankind, at first happily, then less happily, and at last--I infer from the disclosure made me by the Baron in '43--decidedly unhappily. The Baron and I were friends as students; from that time he honoured me with his confidence. I had repeatedly acted as his legal adviser, and so was to a certain extent ent.i.tled to receive his confidences, which however never entered into details.

"The Baron wished to try a different matrimonial regime, to travel with his young wife, to see the world. I urgently advised it. They went to London, Paris, and finally to Italy, where however they only stayed a very short time. When they returned the Baron again came to see me; he looked wretched; the perpetual change of place had upset his nerves; he had not been able to stand the climate, and so forth. The truth of the matter was that he was really ill, only that the seat of his illness was less in the stomach and nerves than in the heart; in fact he was jealous, and we may be quite sure not without grounds. At first he seems to have had various suspicions, but they finally concentrated in one person, who alone was named--a certain Gregorio Giraldi, whose acquaintance the Baroness had already made when she was a girl, while he held some subordinate position as secretary or something of the sort to the papal amba.s.sador at the Court of ----. However that may be, they made or renewed acquaintance with Signor Giraldi in Rome. An old impression was revived, or a new intimacy formed, which certainly belonged to the category of 'dangerous,' though at least appearances were kept up, and a ray of hope was left for the miserable husband, or it would have been impossible that he could have given his consent to a second journey to Italy a year later. From this he did not return quite so quickly as from the first, but when he did, it was--alone! The climate had been even worse for his nerves, so that he could not recover from the shock, and in fact never did, but failed for six or seven months, and died in 1845, from a broken heart, as the novels say, or after long suffering from a heart complaint, as it appeared in the obituary announcement.

"Luckily death had left him time to make his will, which it took us an immense time to draw up through the obstinacy of the General, then a major lately married, and the father of two children since dead. Of those now living Ottomar was, if I am not mistaken, born in 1847, and the daughter some years later. From the first moment that the Baron made the acquaintance of his brother-in-law, which as far as I can recollect was about the time of his own betrothal with the sister, he formed the deepest friendship with him--a friendship which matrimonial disturbances the less interfered with that Werben, who from the beginning had sided with his brother-in-law, with his usual determination, held fast to this line of conduct, and in consequence had many a stormy scene with his giddy but tenderly-loved sister. By the first draft of the will he was to inherit everything in trust for his children, while the Baroness only received her legal portion.

Werben positively refused the inheritance for himself, but accepted it for his children after long consideration, though with the strangest restrictions. From the very first he had advised and at last obtained that the possibility of marrying again should not be taken from his sister, as this step would help her to return to a proper life, provided that the marriage should be with an equal, and in every way fitting. Upon the equality and other proprieties of this hypothetic second marriage the trustees--Herr von Werben himself, Herr von Wallbach (the father of the present man), and I--had to decide, as well as upon every other detail of the will. If the Baroness made an unequal second marriage against the will of the trustees, she was then reduced at once to her legal portion. If she remained unmarried, then the use of half of the revenues of the estate would be left to her entirely.

The other half was to acc.u.mulate as capital, deducting a very moderate sum for the education of the General's children, who on their side would receive equal parts of the revenues of the second half on attaining majority, only that the daughter would attain majority upon her marriage, whose propriety and equality were to be decided by the trustees as in the first case. If they, the children, whether son or daughter, contracted an unsuitable marriage, they lost thereby all claim to the succession, and their portion lapsed as if the delinquent were no longer alive.

"To put it shortly: the Baroness and the General's children succeed one another in turns, so that, for instance, if the General's children die or lose their rights in the way I have mentioned, the Baroness becomes sole heiress of the estates and has free disposal of everything, as, on the contrary, either of the other heirs would have free disposal if the Baroness died or forfeited her rights."

"A strange will," said the Count, who had listened with such breathless attention that he had even forgotten to rock himself.

"I am only answerable for the drawing up," answered the Councillor; "the actual provisions are entirely the General's work, who is, by the way, the most conscientious or rather pedantic of men, and with his speeches about uprightness and justice on all sides makes life intolerable to every one. I a.s.sure you he might have had the whole thing without any trouble, and now all these restrictions and obstacles! I have mentioned one already which especially for us just now is very important."

"The Baroness taking part in the management?"

"Exactly, which takes place in a few weeks. If we are then in a position to get the Baroness--or her factotum, which comes to the same thing--on our side, we shall certainly have the upper hand, and the General's opposition will be broken down, so far at all events. In any other case--and we must be prepared for such--our beautiful plan of getting the Warnow estates into our own hands is as like a soap-bubble as one egg is like another."

"And you have not once tried to sound the Baroness?" exclaimed the Count in a tone of reproach.

"I thought there would be time enough when the Baroness arrived here for the approaching arrangements for which her actual presence is indispensable. She is already on her way according to the last letter from Munich, where she proposes to spend this month. But now I will certainly do all I can to persuade her either to come sooner herself, or at least to send her factotum."

"You know this gentleman?"

"Not personally, only through letters. Signor Giraldi is unquestionably a remarkable individual; scholar, diplomatist, artist, and man of business--the latter of the very first rank; a contest with him--a la bonne heure! I would rather have the devil himself as an adversary. But I am wasting time in chatter, though in a very pleasant way."

The Councillor rose; the Count rocked himself again, looking put out.

"You are very kind," said he, "but excuse my observing that I am no wiser than I was before."

"Then excuse my remarking, Count Golm, that I think you are rather ungrateful," replied the Councillor, drawing on his gloves. "I have done more for you than I would for our own shareholders, even if they went down on their knees to me in a body. I have laid before you the actual position of the Berlin-Sundin Railway Company; I have confessed that our only hope is a continuation of the Sundin railway through your island to some harbour which will be, as it were, the head of the serpent; in other words that we can only save our first project by a second, which will be supported by the first. On this point our interests are common, however much apart they may be elsewhere. It is our interest to obtain this continuation, even if that head of the serpent, the harbour, were in the moon, let alone anywhere upon the island, even in the north. Your interests demand that an Eastern terminus should be chosen, to which the railway would run through your whole property. Good. I come to you--offer you, so to say, my outstretched hand, show you the means and the way, how, by some quite possible cleverness, you may set aside all present obstacles which are in your way--remember that, Count Golm--not in ours--for this object put you in possession of a family secret as I did before of a business secret, and finally offer you, if I may so express myself, the hand of a young, handsome, and charming woman, and you tell me that I have come in vain!"

The Councillor took up his hat, but the Count still did not move from his seat.

"It certainly is most ungrateful of me," said he, "but you know no one is pleased with the most agreeable of prospects when he is in such a disagreeable position as I am."

The Councillor slowly brushed the top of his hat round and round with his elbow.

"I am going to make a proposal, Count Golm. We have both spoken warmly; a walk in the cool of the evening will do you good also; take your hat and let me have the honour of taking you with me on my visit."

"Who are you going to see?"

"The contractor of our railway, Herr Philip Schmidt."

The Count raised himself in his chair, and then let himself immediately fall back.

"I hate the name," he said moodily.

"What in all the world has the name to do with the matter?" answered the Councillor; "and really Herr Philip Schmidt will take it as a matter of course that it should be a great honour to him to make the personal acquaintance of Count Golm; and, furthermore, Herr Schmidt is not only a rich but a rising man, and, as our contractor, is very intimate with our banker, Herr Hugo Lubbener, who is also Count Golm's banker--enfin, the most appropriate individual to arrange a temporary difficulty for the Count, or if as I can fancy this way would not suit him, to enable him to settle the various accounts with Lubbener in the most speedy manner."

"But one cannot storm a man's very door," cried the Count; "you must at least make some excuse for me."

"That is easily done," said the Councillor; "Herr Schmidt is the happy possessor of one of our finest private picture-galleries. Count Golm's pa.s.sion for art is well known; what more natural than that Count Golm should call upon Herr Schmidt, as Herr Schmidt, with the best will in the world, cannot bring his gallery to the Count's hotel?"

"Only that nine o'clock in the evening is perhaps not the best hour for such a purpose," said the Count, looking at the clock.