"Such talents do not make the descendant of an ancient family more respectable in my eyes, Herr von Sanden," said the General.

In the darkness of the carriage the President allowed himself an ironical smile; the General called him for the first time to-day by his own name, evidently to remind him that he too was of an ancient family.

"Neither do they in mine," replied he; "but I am not now criticising, only characterising.

"There are some characteristics which criticise--and judge themselves."

"You are sharp, General; sharp and severe, as a soldier should be; I, as a Government official, having more to do with worldly business than I very often like, am glad to keep to the good old saying 'Judge not, that you be not judged.'"

"And I gladly hold to another, which, if not so sacred, is at least as old, perhaps older; as old, that is, as n.o.bility itself--_n.o.blesse oblige_!"

The President smiled again in the darkness.

"A two-edged saying," said he, "at all times; but more so now than ever."

"Why so?"

"Because our situation was never so precarious as it is now. In the dusty arena in which, in this levelling century of ours, the battle for existence must be fought out, we have long stood on the same ground with the cla.s.ses which have been pressing upon us from behind, or rather indeed are already against us; but sun and wind are not evenly distributed. Many weapons, of which the middle cla.s.ses avail themselves with immense success, are forbidden to us, for _n.o.blesse oblige_. Very fine! We have no longer any special privileges--Heaven forbid!--but special duties enough. We are to keep our position in the state, and in society, and always to preserve our superior moral qualities! And often enough that is a very difficult matter, sometimes impossible; it is expecting a man to square the circle! Take such a position as the Count's here. He did not choose it for himself; he was born to it. He came into a ma.s.s of debts, which he might no doubt have lessened by mere humdrum frugality; but it would have been a long process, for a high-spirited young man inconveniently long. He thinks now that he has discovered a way by which he may attain the eagerly-desired end in the shortest possible time, and make good all the sins of his forefathers at one blow. And if our ancestors do not, as in this case, make our lives a burden to us, then our descendants do it. Nine-tenths of our n.o.bility could tell you a tale about that, and I among others. The proletariate of officials is no chimera, but sober reality; and I wish to Heaven I could drive my six-in-hand through life over a smoother road than we are condemned to travel upon here; for what sins of our ancestors or descendants I know not. _Mon dieu!_ I think the Count must mean to show us the necessity of the railroad, which he is so certain--Oh! it really is abominable. It is impossible to talk comfortably when one's words are so shaken and jolted out of one's mouth."

The President was not sorry to break off a conversation which was taken up in such a very different spirit on the other side. He did not know how disagreeable the turn it had lately taken must be to the General, to whose circ.u.mstances every word fitted so cruelly, who was so painfully reminded of these circ.u.mstances by the situation in which they now were! How he had hated this part of the country for many a long year! He had avoided setting foot in it as far as was possible, notwithstanding the pressing occasion for doing so caused by his trusteeship for his deceased brother-in-law's estates. He had even, for the first and last time in his life, almost neglected his official duty when the project of the harbour had first arisen, and instead of informing himself on the spot of the state of matters, he had sent Captain von Schonau here in his place, and had even transferred to Colonel Sattelstadt the duty which properly fell to himself of making a report upon the business. And now after all he found himself here shaken and jolted over these horrible roads, and with all his gloomiest thoughts reawakened in him. It was a miserable irony of fate, but he had played into its hands by his foolish weakness. They might so perfectly have remained on board ship, and would have been spared all these delays and discomforts, all the considerations that must be attended to, and the obligations that must be undertaken.

And then Elsa's extraordinary behaviour to the Count! To make a request of him at her first meeting with a man whom he would so gladly have avoided, and whose civilities were already oppressive to him! As if they had not enough to do to think of themselves! What in the world did it signify to her how or whether these farmers got the doctor? No, no!

it was a part of Elsa's character to give help wherever she could; and here as ever she had shown herself his good n.o.ble-hearted daughter; but it was unlucky for all that, very unlucky!

While her father thus worked himself into worse and worse spirits, a shade of melancholy had fallen even upon Elsa's cheerful temper. She had hardly heard anything of the conversation between the two men. She was meditating uneasily upon the nature of the request that she had made, at least indirectly, to the Count; but there had been such a despairing look on the pale face of the poor farmer's wife at the last moment, as she came out of the sick children's room to take leave of her guests, that she had followed the impulse which crossed her mind without considering whether she thus put herself into a false position.

He might take it as he pleased; so much the worse for him, if he did not take it as he ought.

Could she with a good conscience say the same as regarded Captain Schmidt? She was now nearly certain that he had only remained absent so long to allow them to drive away,--to separate himself from them for good or for evil.

Why should he leave them? Perhaps he was not at his ease with them; perhaps it was unpleasant and awkward for him to join in the society that he would find at the castle? to be drawn into the conversation which would arise at table, and in which he could not take a part?

which he would probably not even understand! And then to see him sitting there, confused, awkward! the lips compelled to silence which had given the brief words of command with such strong, clear tones, amidst the howling of the wind and the thundering of the waves! and the blue eyes troubled and confused which had shone so brightly in the hour of danger. What a pity to lose the beautiful, delightful recollection, as if a successful sketch were to be spoiled by adding careless inappropriate touches!

And what would he think of her insisting upon his joining their party again? For she really had insisted upon it! What in the world had she been thinking of? Had she really only wanted to look for a few hours longer at the handsome sunburnt face and the blue eyes, in sheer defiance of the Count, in whose face the question, "Am I not a handsome man?" was so clearly written. What were the two talking about? or were they sitting as silently together as she in her narrow prison here, to the close atmosphere of which it was, of course, owing that her heart was beating so nervously!--Oh!

The front wheels stuck fast in one of the deep ruts made by heavy waggons in the soft sandy soil, the spirited horses started forward, and Elsa fell into the arms of the President, who was sitting opposite to her.

"I must apologise for the length of my unfortunate nose," said the President in a melancholy voice, wiping away the tears which ran down his thin cheeks.

Elsa laughed, and laughed the more heartily from the absurd contrast of this ridiculous scene to the gloomy and sentimental thoughts from which she had been so suddenly startled.

The gentlemen in the other carriage had had no reason to complain of want of fresh air. After the heavy rain it had really grown cold; and though their almost constantly uphill road lay mostly through thick woods, where the great beeches gave them some shelter, the east wind struck them all the more sharply at the open parts which they had to pa.s.s. The Count was freezing, notwithstanding his cloak; and he took for mere perversity or bravado Reinhold's a.s.surance that he was too much inured to wind and weather to feel cold now, and that he really did not require the rug offered to him. The fellow was a most unnecessary and burdensome addition to the party. On his account he had given up the fourth seat in the close carriage, and therewith the neighbourhood of that charming girl, very likely quite unnecessarily.

In the haste with which, on his return from shooting, he had read the President's note, he had taken the captain spoken of for some aide-de-camp or other member of the General's staff, to whom he must of course pay proper attention. He had now discovered, to his astonishment, that he was only a merchant captain, whose acquaintance with the rest of the party was but a few hours old, who appeared to have been of some small service during the pa.s.sage from the steamer to the sh.o.r.e; and who, if it was necessary to take him with them at all, might have found a place in the luggage-cart. What was he to say to the fellow? Was there any occasion indeed for speaking to him at all? The Count came to the conclusion that there was no occasion, and that he did more than could be required of him in letting fall from time to time a few words about the roads, the weather, or such matters.

Reinhold, who did not feel quite sure if these brief utterances were fragments of a soliloquy, or awkward attempts to begin a conversation, answered when it seemed required of him, and at other times pursued his own thoughts.

There, on the dusky background of the wind-stirred trees, he saw her again as he had seen her to-day for the first time against the blue of the morning sky. Again he saw the slight graceful figure, and the fair face with its delicate yet expressive features; again the brown eyes shone upon him which had looked at him so mockingly and fearlessly, and then so gravely and severely.

Was it an enchantment? He had seen more beautiful women without being so struck with their appearance: he had thought himself in love, perhaps had loved, but never at first sight; bit by bit the feeling had grown--but here it had come upon him like a storm, like a whirlwind, which threw all his sailing-gear into confusion, and gave no time for reefing and tacking, tore down masts and rigging, made all steering of the ship impossible, and tossed the helpless wreck from wave to wave.

What business had he, a stranger to the sphere in which she moved, to be thinking of such things? Were not these foolish aimless fancies childish even in his own eyes? Was he now to make himself ridiculous to other eyes, perhaps to hers? Had he not already done so when he unresistingly obeyed her command? Would she not say to him scornfully: "I only wanted to see if you really were such a helpless, poor-spirited fool"?

Strange! that now, just now, the most terrible moment of his life should recur to his memory, when, riding alone through the Cordilleras from Santiago to Mexico, he was taken prisoner by Indians between Mazatlan and Inpic, forced to ride at full speed through mountain gulleys, away from the track into the desert, with the fear that the end of the ride might be a couple of shots, and a bleeding corpse falling from the saddle, and writhing in the last death-agony on the dried-up gra.s.s.

The only apparent chance of escaping with his life lay in the absolute obedience with which he complied with every order of the Indians, and yet he found it easier to resolve to extinguish that last ray of hope, and begin the mad struggle for freedom, than any longer to endure the shame of being in the power of these wretches. But a man can s.n.a.t.c.h from his holsters a pistol, overlooked by the robbers, and, setting spurs to his horse, plunge from the steep path down the sides of the ravine, so as at least to die in his own fashion; while he cannot jump from the seat of a smart dog-cart, into which he has climbed at the command of a pretty girl, and take refuge in the forest, even if the fine gentleman sitting beside him had no objection to such a flight, and would merely laugh at it.

"Here we are!" said the Count.

They had come to an opening in the forest, in the centre of which stood a stately building, flanked as it seemed with towers, and whose windows were brightly illuminated. The carriages rolled quickly over the smooth approach, and stopped at the entrance, from which several servants now came forward, to a.s.sist the visitors to alight.

CHAPTER VIII.

The President had remarked in his note that the want of a mistress of the house might be felt by the young lady of their party, but as the want was one that could not be at once made good, he promised the Count absolution beforehand. The Count had immediately sent off a mounted messenger to his neighbour, Herr von Strummin, with the pressing request to come with his wife and daughter to Golmberg and make arrangements for pa.s.sing the night there. The family were quite ready to do him this neighbourly service, and Frau and Fraulein von Strummin received Elsa in the hall and conducted her to her apartment, which adjoined their own.

The President rubbed his thin white hands together before the fire in his own comfortable room, while Johann arranged his things: "Very nice!

very nice indeed! This ought quite to reconcile our self-willed young lady to her mishap, and restore her grumbling old father to a more sociable frame of mind."

Elsa was thoroughly reconciled. Set free from her moving prison, to find a brightly-illuminated castle in the depths of the forest--servants with torches at the entrance--and in the ancient hall, with its curiously-twisted columns, the unexpected appearance of two ladies, who, stepping forward from among the weapons and armour with which the walls and pillars were hung, welcomed her warmly, and led her into the cosiest of rooms, a flaming fire on the hearth, wax candles burning brightly before a tall looking-gla.s.s in a rich antique frame, silk hangings of the most wonderful pattern repeated in every possible variety on the heavy curtains over the deep-set windows, the _portieres_ to the lofty gilt doors, and the hangings of the old-fashioned bed--all was so strange, so charming, so exactly what an adventure ought to be. Elsa shook the motherly-looking Frau von Strummin by the hand and thanked her for her trouble, and kissing the pretty, mischievous-looking, grey-eyed little girl, asked permission to call her "Meta," as her mother did, who had just left the room. Meta responded with the greatest warmth to her embrace, and declared that nothing in the world could have pleased her more than this evening's invitation. She and mamma had been so dull at Strummin--it was so horribly dull in the country--and then the Count's letter came! She always liked coming to Golmberg, the forest was so beautiful, and the view from the summit of the tower or from the top of the Golmberg over the woods and sea was too enchanting. She did not often come here though; her mother did not much like the trouble of moving, and the gentlemen thought only of their shooting, their horses, and especially of themselves. So that she really had been not a little surprised at the Count being in such a hurry to provide company for the strange young lady, just as if he had known beforehand how sweet and charming the stranger would be, and how pleasant it would be to keep her company, and to chatter all this nonsense to her; and might she call her "du"? because then they could talk twice as comfortably. The permission, readily given and sealed with a kiss, enchanted the excitable little girl.

"You must never go away again," she cried, "or, at any rate, it must be only to return in the autumn! He will never marry me; I have got nothing, and he has nothing, in spite of his great estates, and if we cannot manage to get the railroad and the harbour made here, my papa says we shall all be bankrupts. And your papa and the President have got it all in their own hands, my papa said as we came here, and so if you marry him, of course your papa will agree to the concession--that is what they call it, is not it? And you are already concerned in it in a sort of way, for my papa says that the harbour can only be made on land which belongs to your aunt, and you and your brother will be her heirs, or are already co-heirs with her. My papa says it is the most wonderful will, and he should very much like to know how the matter really stands. Do you not know all about it? Do, do tell me! I will not tell any one."

"I really do not know," answered Elsa, "I only know that we are very poor, and that as far as I am concerned you may still marry your Count."

"I would do it very readily," said the little lady seriously, "but I am not pretty enough for him with my insignificant little face and my snub nose. I shall marry some day a rich city man, who will be impressed with our old n.o.bility--for the Strummins are as old as the island, you know--some Herr Schulze or Muller or Schmidt. By-the-bye, what is the name of the officer who came with you?"

"Schmidt--Reinhold Schmidt."

"No; you are joking!"

"No, really; but he is not an officer."

"Not an officer? But how is he a captain then?"

"He is captain of a ship."

"In the navy?"

"Only a merchant-captain."

"No! you don't say so!"

It came out so comically, and Meta clasped her little hands in such _nave_ amazement, that Elsa could not help laughing, and laughed all the more to hide the blush of confusion which rose to her cheek.

"But then he will not have supper with us?" said Meta.

"Why not?" asked Elsa, suddenly becoming quite grave again.