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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Gloria Victis!', by Ossip Schubin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: 'Gloria Victis!'
+       A Romance
+
+Author: Ossip Schubin
+
+Translator: Mary Maxwell
+
+Release Date: March 24, 2011 [EBook #35672]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'GLORIA VICTIS!' ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+   1. Page scan source:
+      http://books.google.com/books?id=g9o9AAAAYAAJ
+
+   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
+
+
+
+
+                             GLORIA VICTIS!
+
+
+
+                               A ROMANCE
+
+
+
+                                   BY
+                             OSSIP SCHUBIN
+                        Author of "Our Own Set."
+
+
+
+                                     "Alas! poor human nature!"
+
+                                                    _Chesterfield_.
+
+
+
+                    From the German by MARY MAXWELL
+
+
+
+                                NEW YORK
+                   WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER, PUBLISHER
+                            11 MURRAY STREET
+                                  1886
+
+
+
+
+
+         Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886
+                       by William S. Gottsberger
+       in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington
+
+
+
+
+
+                                Press of
+                         William E. Gottsberger
+                                New York
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                             GLORIA VICTIS!
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+"There is no help for it, I must do it to-day," the Baroness Melkweyser
+murmured with a sigh breathed into the depths of the toilet-glass,
+before which, she was sitting while her maid dressed her hair. "It is
+now just a week," she went on to herself, after having uttered the
+above words aloud, "quite one week since Capriani entrusted the affair
+to me. I have met him three times, and each time was obliged to tell
+him that there had been no favourable opportunity as yet. He is
+beginning to take my delay ill. Come, then, _courage!_.... _en
+avant!_.... Truyn certainly ought to be glad to marry his daughter as
+soon as possible, and I cannot see why Gabrielle should make any
+objection to becoming the sister-in-law of the Duke of Larothiére. To
+be sure, most Austrians have such antediluvian ideas! _Nons verrons!_ I
+will, as Capriani desires, see how the land lies."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders as though shifting off all responsibility
+and turning to her maid exclaimed: "_mais dépêchez vous donc_,
+Euphrosine, will you never remember how much I always have to do!"
+Whereupon the impatient lady, snatched from her maid the head-dress
+which she was arranging, and, quite in the style of Napoleon I.,
+crowned herself.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+The scene lies in Paris. The short after-season which, like an echo of
+the carnival, is wont to follow Lent, that holy intermezzo crowded with
+charity-bazaars, musical soirées and other elegant penitential
+observances, is rather duller than usual this year. Easter came too
+late and although _Figaro_ continues its daily record of balls and
+routs, Paris takes very little heed. All genuine enthusiasm for such
+entertainments is lacking. Paris thinks of nothing now save the races,
+the last auction at the Hôtel Drouôt, the latest change of ministry,
+and the newest thing in stocks.
+
+It is the beginning of May. Two weeks ago, rather later than usual,
+spring made its appearance--like a young king full of eager
+benevolence, and generous promises, with green banner held aloft and
+crowned with sunshine--thus it swept above the earth which sullenly and
+reluctantly opened its weary eyes. "Awake, awake, I bring with me joy!"
+called spring in sweet siren tones sometimes low and wooing and anon
+loud and imperious. And a mysterious whisper thrilled and stirred the
+land, the trees stretched their black branches, the buds burst. Men
+felt a pleasant languor, while their hearts beat louder.
+
+The spring advanced quickly, working its lovely miracles--loading the
+trees with blossoms and filling human hearts with joy--and upon those
+for whom its lavish hand had left nothing else, it bestowed a smile, or
+it granted them a dream.
+
+There are, indeed, some unfortunates for whom its brilliant splendour
+never does aught save reveal the scars of old wounds, which in its
+careless gayety it formerly inflicted; and while others flock abroad to
+admire its beauty, these hide away their misery. But when daylight's
+haughty glare has faded, and spring has modestly shrouded its
+loveliness in a veil of grey, these wretches inhaling its fragrance in
+their seclusion come forth from their concealment, into the soothing
+twilight, among the dewy blossoms, and once more give utterance to the
+yearning that has so long been mute, rejoicing with tears in their old
+anguish, crying: "Oh Spring, oh youth--even thy falsehood was lovely--"
+thus doing it homage by their grief, for spring has no enemies.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Somewhat apart from the aggressive brilliancy of the Avenue
+l'Imperatrice wind a couple of quiet streets like detached fragments of
+the Faubourg St. Germain. Everything here breathes that charming and
+genuine elegance which is almost an instinct, and rules mankind
+despotically. It is not a grimace artificially assumed for show.
+
+One of the prettiest of the small hotels standing between its
+court-yard and garden, in the Avenue ----, formerly it was called the
+Avenue Labédoyère, tomorrow it may perhaps be the Avenue Paul de
+Cassagnac, and the day after the Avenue Montmorency--was occupied by
+Count Truyn with his young wife and his daughter.
+
+This evening the family had assembled in a pleasant drawing-room on the
+rez-de-chaussée, and one after another each expressed delight in the
+repose and relief of such an hour after the social exertions of the
+day. The husband and wife as they sat opposite each other near the
+fireplace--he with his _Figaro_, and she busy with the restoration of
+some antique embroidery--were evidently people who had attained the
+goal of existence and were content. It was plain that their thoughts
+did not range beyond the present.
+
+Not so with Gabrielle. Twice during the last quarter of an hour she has
+changed her seat and three times she has consulted the clock upon the
+chimney-piece.
+
+At last she goes to a mirror and arranges her breast-knot of violets.
+
+"Our Ella is beginning to be pretty," said Truyn opening his eyes after
+a doze behind the _Figaro_.
+
+"Have you just discovered that?" Zinka asked smiling.
+
+"Do you think my gown is becoming, Zini?" Gabrielle asked as gravely as
+if the matter were the Eastern question.
+
+"Very becoming," her step-mother kindly assured her.
+
+"Oho!" said Truyn banteringly, "our Ella is beginning to be vain."
+
+Whereupon Gabrielle blushed deeply and to hide her confusion went to
+the piano and began to strum "Annette and Lubin." She did not play well
+but her hands looked very pretty running over the keys.
+
+"I am surprised that Ossi does not make his appearance," said Truyn,
+laying aside his _Figaro_. Like all Austrians residing in Paris he had
+a special preference for that frivolous journal. "I met him this
+afternoon on the Boulevard, and he asked me expressly whether we were
+to be at home this evening."
+
+Gabrielle looked, as her father observed with surprise, rather
+embarrassed. He had spoken thoughtlessly, and in masculine ignorance of
+the state of affairs. He was just beginning to teaze the girl about her
+behaviour when the footman announced the Baroness Melkweyser.
+
+Her head-dress of red feathers sat somewhat askew upon the
+old-fashioned puffs of hair that framed her sallow face. She wore a
+gown of flowered brocade, the surpassing ugliness of which showed it to
+have been purchased at a bargain at some great bazaar as a "_fin de
+saison_." She squinted slightly, winked constantly, was entirely out of
+breath, and sank exhausted into an arm-chair, before uttering a word of
+greeting.
+
+"Ah, if you only knew all I have done this blessed day!" she exclaimed.
+
+The Truyn trio looked at her in smiling silence.
+
+"Confessed and received the sacrament very early," the baroness began
+the list of her achievements, "always on the second of every month--I
+never can manage it on the first--then at the Pierson sale I bought six
+things marked with Louis Philippe's cipher, then I went to see Ada de
+Thienne's trousseau,--then to a breakfast at the new minister's--too
+comical--his wife made herself perfectly ridiculous, in a bare neck at
+two o'clock in the daytime!"
+
+"That is the inevitable consequence of a change of ministers," Zinka
+remarked. Her manner of speech, quiet, and rather inclined to irony,
+was that of those who, with rigid self-control have for years endured
+with dignity some great grief.
+
+The baroness, meanwhile, rattled on, unheeding. "Then I went my
+round of charities, then looked for a wedding-present for my niece
+Stefanie...."
+
+"Heavens, Zoë!" Truyn groaned.
+
+"Yes, I lead a most fatiguing existence," the baroness wailed. "Just as
+I sat down to supper,--I missed my dinner--it occurred to me that it
+really would be better not to let to-day pass without making you a very
+important communication--that is--hm--discussing--a most important
+matter with you--and--here I am. Pray, Zinka, let me have a sandwich,
+for I am dying of hunger."
+
+"Ring the bell, Erich," Zinka said with a smile.
+
+"And now to business," said the baroness, "_je tiens une occasion_--it
+really is the most advantageous opportunity!"
+
+"You shall have your sandwich, Zoë," said Truyn, quietly stretching out
+his hand to the bell handle, "but pray spare me your advantageous
+opportunities. If I had availed myself of all your boasted
+'opportunities,' I should now be the proud possessor of fourteen
+rattle-trap Bühl pianos and at least twenty-five tumble-down country
+houses. As it is I have bought for love of you three holy-water pots of
+Mme. Maintenon's, an inkstand of the Pompadour's, and I can't tell how
+many nightcaps of Louis XVI., warranted genuine."
+
+"And an excellent bargain you had of them," the baroness declared.
+"Louis Sixteenth's nightcaps have latterly been going up in price. But
+this time there is no question of purchase," she went on to say, "and
+that is the best of it."
+
+"That certainly is very fine," muttered Truyn.
+
+"The question is,--I suppose I ought to ask Gabrielle to leave the
+room, that used to be the way, girls never were allowed to be present
+while their parents disposed of their future, but I .... _j'aime à
+attaquer les choses franchement_. The question is, in fact, with regard
+to--Gabrielle's marriage."
+
+Zinka with a smile took the hand of the young girl standing beside her
+in her own, and tenderly laid it against her cheek.
+
+"Gabrielle's beauty produced a sensation at the last ball at the
+Spanish embassy's," the baroness continued.
+
+"I must entreat you not to make such a fatal assault upon my daughter's
+modesty," exclaimed Zinka.
+
+"Bah!" the baroness shrugged her shoulders, "stop up your ears,
+Gabrielle. Produced a sensation is the correct phrase. It is
+remarkable--the _succés_ that the Austrian women always have in Paris.
+I have a suitor for Gabrielle--the most brilliant _parti_ in Paris."
+
+"Stop, stop, Zoë, I beg you," said Truyn, provoked, "you make me
+nervous! You always forget how your French way of arranging marriages
+goes against the grain with us and our old-fashioned Austrian ideas.
+You say I have a rich husband for your daughter in just the same tone
+in which you say I have a purchaser for your house! And I seriously
+entreat you to consider that a jewel like my dear comrade yonder, may
+be bestowed, upon one deemed worthy of such a possession, but can never
+be sold."
+
+"Ah, here is my sandwich!" exclaimed the baroness, paying no attention
+to his words in her satisfaction over the tea-tray. Whilst Gabrielle
+was occupied with making tea the visitor applied herself to the
+refreshments, whispering meanwhile confidentially and mysteriously to
+Truyn. "I thought that your new domestic relations might make you
+desirous to have Gabrielle mar ...."
+
+An angry flash in Truyn's blue eyes, usually so kindly, warned her that
+she was on the wrong track; she lost countenance and consequently
+proceeded rather too precipitately in her investigations as to 'how the
+land lay.'
+
+"At least my proposition is worth being taken into serious
+consideration," she said hastily. "Count Capriani commissioned me to
+ask you whether there was any prospect of his obtaining Gabrielle's
+hand for his only--remember, his only son."
+
+"Count Capriani, I do not know who he is," Truyn said coldly.
+
+"Well then, Conte Capriani," Zoë explained impatiently.
+
+"Ah, indeed, Conte Capriani," Truyn said significantly,--"the railroad
+Capriani!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And he dares to ask my daughter's hand for his son?"
+
+Perfect silence reigned for a moment. Gabrielle's little nose expressed
+intense disdain.
+
+"Zoë, you are insane," Truyn said at last, very contemptuously. "This
+is not, I believe, the first of April."
+
+"I cannot understand your irritation," the baroness rejoined, with the
+bravado that is the result of great embarrassment. "You are always
+proclaiming yourself a Liberal with no prejudices!"
+
+Truyn coloured slightly. He had grown more decided than he had been a
+few years before, and his shirt collars were perhaps a little higher
+and stiffer. His whole bearing expressed the dignified content that
+distinguishes the man of conservative views of life. He gently twitched
+his high collar as he began: "I am a Liberal--at least I fancy that I
+am. If my daughter had set her heart upon marrying a man her inferior
+as regards birth and family, I should certainly consent to her doing
+so, provided the man were one whose character and attainments atoned
+for his low origin."
+
+Zinka smiled sceptically with a scarcely perceptible shrug. Truyn's
+colour deepened. "I do not deny," he admitted, "that it would be very
+hard for me, but all the same I should consent and should do all that I
+could to assist such a son-in-law to attain a position worthy of my
+daughter--that is suitable to her mode of life."
+
+"Do not be afraid, papa. I have not the slightest desire to fall in
+love with a deputy on the extreme Left," Gabrielle observed.
+
+"In young Capriani's case there would be no need for you to trouble
+yourself about your son-in-law's position," said the baroness loftily.
+"_Sa position est toute faite_. All Paris was at the ball the night
+before last in the Capriani Hôtel--all the _rois en exil_ appeared
+there, and even some Siberian magnates, and all--that is very many--of
+the Austrians at present in Paris."
+
+"You know just as well as I do why all these magnates appeared at
+Capriani's," Truyn rejoined angrily. "But indeed I care nothing for
+this speculator's position--the man himself is odious--a common parvenu
+with a boor of a son."
+
+"Have it your own way," said the baroness. "Perhaps you know that a
+daughter of Capriani's is married to the Duke of Larothière?"
+
+"Yes, I know it."
+
+"And that the Conte's property is estimated at a hundred million?"
+
+"It may be a hundred billion for all I care."
+
+"He is incontestably one of the most influential financiers in Europe."
+
+"Unfortunately, and one of the most corrupt and corrupting," Truyn
+rejoined with emphasis.
+
+"You have not, however, asked Gabrielle's opinion," persisted the
+baroness.
+
+Gabrielle tossed her head, but her answer was unuttered, for just at
+this moment the servant flung open the door, and the interesting
+conversation was interrupted by the announcement of fresh visitors.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Two young men entered--two Counts Lodrin. They bore the same name; they
+were the sons of brothers--and as unlike each other as possible.
+
+With regard to Oswald--the "Ossi" of whom Truyn made mention a while
+before.--Gabrielle was convinced that no sculptured classic god, none
+of Raphael's cherubim could compare with him in beauty and distinction.
+She was perhaps alone in this view, although it must be confessed that
+few mortal men surpassed him in these two respects. About six and
+twenty, tall, slender--very dark--a gay, good-humoured smile on his
+handsome, aristocratic face--with an eager, ardent manner--and with
+what might be called the gypsy-like distinction that characterizes an
+entire class of the Austrian aristocracy he was the embodiment of
+chivalric youth. With all the attractiveness of his face, his eyes
+struck you at once--it would be hard to say what was wrong about them,
+whether they were too large, or too dark.
+
+They certainly were very beautiful, but they produced the impression of
+not suiting the face--of having been placed there by accident. But the
+incongruous impression made by those large, dark eyes upon almost every
+one who saw the young man for the first time was extremely fleeting,
+and passed away as soon as Oswald began to talk--as soon as his look
+became animated.
+
+His cousin Georges was at least a dozen years his elder, and nearly a
+head shorter than he. Many persons declared that he looked like a
+jockey; they were wrong. He looked like what he was, a prodigal son,
+very well-born. Spare in figure, his face smoothly shaven, except for a
+long sandy moustache, his hair quite gray, and brushed up from the
+temples after a vanished fashion, his features keen and mobile, his
+eyes round as a bird's, his carriage rather stooping and with motions
+characterized by a certain negligence, he produced the impression of a
+man who had seen a great deal of the world, and who now took a
+philosophic view of his life and of his position.
+
+Oswald is the heir, Georges is the next to inherit.
+
+Scarcely were the usual formal greetings over when Oswald made an
+attempt to join his pretty cousin Gabrielle, with the laudable purpose
+of helping her to pour out tea. His design was cruelly frustrated,
+however, by Count Truyn, who instantly engaged him in a brisk
+discussion of the latest anti-Catholic measures on the part of the
+Republic. Oswald sat beside his uncle restlessly drumming on the brim
+of his opera-hat, the image of politely-concealed youthful impatience,
+now and then adding an "abominable!" or a "disgusting," to the
+indignant expressions of the elder man, and all the while glancing
+towards Gabrielle. Certain personal matters interested him far more
+just now than the deplorable excesses of the French government. He had
+not read the article in the _Temps_ to which his uncle alluded, he did
+not take the French Republic at all in earnest, he considered it in
+fact no Republic at all, but only a monarchy gone mad; French politics
+interested him from an ethnographical point of view only, all which he
+calmly confessed to his uncle, by whom he was scolded as "unpardonably
+indifferent," and "culpably blind." The elder man's conservative
+philippics grew more eager, and the younger one's courteous admissions
+more vague, until at last Zinka succeeded in releasing the latter by
+asking Gabrielle to sing something. Gabrielle, of course, declared that
+she was hoarse, but Oswald who was, by the way, about as much
+interested in her singing from a musical point of view as in the
+trumpet-solos of the emperor of Russia, smiled away her objections and
+rising, with a sigh of relief, went to open the grand piano.
+
+No one seemed to have any idea of according a strict silence to the
+young girl's music, and whilst Gabrielle warbled in a sweet, but rather
+thin voice, some majestic air of Handel's, and Oswald leaning against
+the cover of the instrument looked down at her with ardent intentness,
+Georges, his hands upon his knees, his body inclined towards the
+Baroness Melkweyser who, still busied with her refreshments, was
+disposing of sandwich after sandwich, said: "You are wearing yourself
+out in the service of mankind. Have you allowed yourself one
+half-hour's repose to-day?--No, not one--as any one may see who looks
+at you. _A propos_, who was the Japanese woman dressed in yellow at whose
+side I saw you to-day sitting in a fainting condition in a landau--in
+front of Gouache's was it?--on the Boulevard de la Madeleine?"
+
+"Adeline Capriani."
+
+"_Ah tiens!_ That was why I seemed to have seen her before."
+
+"A very queer figure was she not?"
+
+"She is not ugly," said Georges. "It is a pity that she dresses so
+ridiculously."
+
+"Her dress costs her a fortune every year--the first artists in Paris
+design her gowns," Madame Zoë declared.
+
+"Indeed----? Now I understand why she always looks as if she had been
+stolen from a bric-a-brac shop," said Georges. "Explain to me, however,
+why this wealthy young lady is still unmarried. Perhaps the Conte
+thinks another son-in-law too expensive an article ... Did you know
+that Larothière lost 300,000 francs again yesterday at baccarat at the
+Jockey Club?"
+
+"That is of no consequence," Zoë said loftily. "Gaston loves his
+wife--it is all that Capriani requires of his sons-in-law."
+
+"_Sapperment!_" Georges exclaimed, "that's the right kind of a
+father-in-law; what if you should negotiate a marriage, Baroness,
+between me and Mademoiselle Capriani?"
+
+"Do not indulge in such sorry jests," Truyn interposed disapprovingly.
+
+"I am in solemn earnest; the financial ground beneath my feet is very
+shaky at present, and having one's debts paid by such a good fellow as
+Ossi palls upon one in time. I am undecided whether to turn Hospitaller
+or to marry an heiress."
+
+"Ah, if Oswald heard you!" Zinka said with her quiet smile.
+
+"Ossi at this moment, if I am not greatly mistaken, is listening to the
+songs of angels in Heaven, and takes precious little heed of us
+ordinary mortals," replied Georges, glancing with a certain dreaminess
+in his eyes towards the youthful pair who had left the piano and were
+standing in the deep recess of an open balconied window.
+
+"Happy youth," murmured Georges.
+
+Yes, happy youth! They were standing there, he very pale, she blushing
+slightly, mute, confused, the sparkling eyes of each seeking, avoiding
+the other's. He has led her to the recess to show her the moon, to lay
+his heart at her feet, but he has forgotten the moon, and he has not
+yet dared to pour out his heart to her.
+
+The fragrant breath of the spring night was wafted towards them,
+fanning their youthful faces caressingly.
+
+All nature was thrilling beneath the first gentle May shower. The large
+white panicles of the elder in the little garden in front of the house
+gleamed brightly through the gray twilight. The small fountain murmured
+monotonously, its slender jet of water sparkling in the light from the
+drawing-room windows. They were dancing in the house opposite; like
+colourless phantoms the different couples glided across the lowered
+shades of the windows. The "Ecstasy" waltz played by a piano and a
+violin mingled its frivolous sobs and laughter with the modest song of
+the fountain and the whispers of the elder-bushes. All else was quiet
+in the Avenue-Labédoyère, but from the distance the restless roar of
+the huge city invaded the silence of night--mysterious, confused, as
+the demoniac restlessness of Hell may sometimes invade the divine peace
+of Heaven.
+
+"Gabrielle!" Oswald began at last with hesitation and very gently, "I
+have come very often of late to the Avenue-Labédoyère. Can you guess
+why?"
+
+"Why?" The blush on Gabrielle's cheek deepens. "Why?--since you were in
+Paris for three weeks without coming near your relatives you ought to
+make up for lost time," she murmured.
+
+"True, Gabrielle--but--do you really not know for whose sake I have
+come so often, so very often?"
+
+She was silent.
+
+His breath came more quickly, the colour rose to his cheek. Surely he
+must have divined Gabrielle's innocent secret from the young girl's
+tell-tale shyness, but yet at this decisive moment the words died in
+his throat as they must for every genuine, honest lover who would fain
+ask the momentous question of her whom he loves.
+
+"Gabrielle," he murmured hastily and somewhat indistinctly, "will you
+take the full heart I offer you--can you accept it, or...." he
+hesitated and looked inquiringly into her lovely face. "Ella, all my
+happiness lies in your hands!"
+
+Her heart beat loudly, the lace ruffles on her bosom trembled,
+as she slowly lifted her eyes to his.--How handsome he was, how
+well the tender humility in his face became him! His happiness
+lies in her hands! Her eyes filled with tears. "I do not
+know ... I ... Oswald ... Ossi!" she murmured disconnectedly, and then she
+placed her slender hand in the strong one held out to her.
+
+Truyn with his back to the window, noticed nothing, but the baroness
+who had been observing this romantic intermezzo through her eyeglass
+with cold-blooded curiosity, said drily to herself: "_J'en suis pour
+mes frais_;" then turning for the last time to Truyn, she said, "I have
+communicated to you Capriani's proposal."
+
+"And you are at liberty to tell him how I received it," Truyn replied
+stiffly.
+
+"_J'arrangerai un peu_," the baroness said as she rose, "do not disturb
+the young people, I will slip out on tiptoe. Adieu." And with a
+courteous glance around, she hurried away.
+
+"Well, what do you think?" exclaimed Truyn, as he returned to the
+drawing-room, after escorting her to the hall. "What do you think,
+Georges?" and sitting down beside the young man he tapped him on the
+knee. "Capriani sends that goose Zoë in all seriousness to ask for my
+daughter's hand for his son. What do you say to that?"
+
+"Audacious enough," said Georges shrugging his shoulders, "but what
+would you have--'tis a sign of the times!"
+
+This dry way of judging of the matter did not please Truyn at all.
+"Ossi!" he called.
+
+"What, uncle?" The young people advanced together into the room.
+
+"I have an interesting piece of news for you. A secret agent of the
+_Maison Foy_ has made a proposal to-day for Ella's hand for Capriani,
+jr! What do you say to that?"
+
+"Ella's hand for the son of that railway Capriani!" exclaimed Oswald
+angrily. "Impossible! The secret agent deserves .... and he made an
+expressive motion with his hand. His indignation became him extremely
+well, and Truyn's glance rested with evident admiration upon the young
+fellow's athletic figure as he stood with head slightly thrown back,
+and eyes flashing scornfully.
+
+"Unfortunately it was a lady--Zoë Melkweyser," the elder man explained.
+
+"Then she deserves at least six months of Charenton," said Oswald,
+"'tis incredible!" and he clinched his hand. "Your daughter, uncle,
+and the son of the Conte--I suppose he is a Conte--or a Marchese
+perhaps--Capriani! You know that little orang-outang, Georges?"
+
+"Of course, one meets him everywhere. He addressed me by my first name
+yesterday," Georges replied calmly. "Ah, my dear friends, you entirely
+misconceive this extraordinary proposal. For my part, I see in it no
+personal insult to the Countess Gabrielle, but simply a symptom of an
+approaching social earthquake. The triumph of the tradesman is manifest
+everywhere. Zola in his most prominent work has celebrated the
+apotheosis of the bag-man and the shop-girl; Chapu has designed the
+façade of the latest millinery establishment; Paris will yet see the
+Bourse hold its sessions in _La Madeleine_, and the _Bon Marché_ will
+set up a branch of its trade in _Notre Dame_."
+
+"Likely enough," said Truyn with a troubled sigh, "I am only surprised
+that Capriani has not tried to be President of the French Republic."
+
+"He has not thought the position at present a favourable one for his
+speculations," said Georges, "but what is not, may be."
+
+"Ah, I am proud of my Austria," said Truyn, suddenly becoming stiff and
+wooden of aspect. "Such adventurers have at least no position there."
+
+"Do not be too proud of your Austria," rejoined Georges, "I heard
+something at the embassy to-day that will hardly please you. _Id est_,
+Capriani has bought Schneeburg and will be your nearest neighbour in
+Bohemia."
+
+Truyn started to his feet. "Capriani .... Schneeburg .... impossible! How
+could Malzin bring himself to such a sacrifice!"
+
+"It must have gone hard with the poor fellow, God rest his soul! The
+night after the contract had been signed he died of apoplexy."
+
+"Good Heavens!" murmured Truyn, pacing restlessly to and fro. "Good
+Heavens!"
+
+"And there is another interesting piece of news," Georges went on.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Fritz--do you remember him?"
+
+"Certainly. The only Malzin now left, a very amiable lad who
+unfortunately made an impossible marriage."
+
+"Yes, he married an actress, and just at the time when every one else
+was tired of ...."
+
+"Georges!" exclaimed Oswald frowning and glancing towards Gabrielle. He
+was evidently of the opinion that such things should not be mentioned
+in the presence of young girls.
+
+"Hm--hm," muttered Georges, "and he has accepted the post of Capriani's
+private secretary."
+
+"Frightful!" exclaimed Oswald.
+
+"He must have become morally corrupt to some degree, before he could
+make up his mind to submit to such a humiliation," interposed Truyn
+indignantly.
+
+"Poor devil!" said Oswald.
+
+"What would you have?" the philosophic Georges remarked and hummed
+ironically the air of '_Garde la reine_.' "_Ce n'est pas toujours les
+mêmes qui ont l'assiette au beurre_. I tell you it is all up with us."
+
+All preserved a melancholy silence for a while, then Truyn favoured the
+party with a few grand political aphorisms, and Oswald at last said to
+himself perfectly calmly, and as if impromptu, "Gabrielle and
+Capriani's son!"
+
+The melancholy mood vanished and they talked and laughed so that there
+was a sound as of merry bells through the silence of the night.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III.
+
+
+Zoë Melkweyser was an Austrian and a distant relative of Truyn's. Very
+well-born, but in very narrow pecuniary circumstances, she had grown up
+on her widowed father's heavily-mortgaged estate, condemned through
+want of means to a continued residence there, restless as was the
+temperament with which nature had endowed her. As a school-girl she had
+no greater pleasure than imaginary journeys from place to place upon
+the map, and one day she confided to her governess, Mrs. Sidney, under
+the seal of secrecy, that she would consent to marry any man, even were
+he a negro, who would promise to indulge her restlessness and allow her
+to travel to her heart's content.
+
+It was no negro, however, but a banker from Brussels, who finally
+fulfilled her requirements. She met him at a watering-place, whither
+she had gone under the chaperonage of a wealthy and compassionate
+relative. In spite of her thirst for travel she could hardly have made
+up her mind to marry an Austrian banker, but a Belgian Cr[oe]sus was
+quite a different affair in her opinion.
+
+All the objections and remonstrances of her aristocratic connections in
+Austria upon her return thither betrothed, she cut short with, "What
+would you have? Of course I never should have met him here, but he was
+received at court in Brussels."
+
+And in fact Baron Alfred Melkweyser was not only received at court in
+Brussels, but what was still more extraordinary, by the Princess L----,
+being admitted to the most exclusive Belgian circles, 'among the people
+whom everyone knows.'
+
+It would have been difficult to find any fault with him except for his
+brand-new patent of nobility, and Zoë never had any cause to repent her
+marriage. His manners were perfectly correct, he rode well, had a
+laudable passion for antiquities, ordered his clothes at Poole's,
+always used _vous_ in talking with his wife, paid all her bills without
+even a wry face, patiently travelled with her all over the world, and
+at her desire removed with her to Paris.
+
+After ten years of childless marriage he died suddenly, of his first
+and unfortunately unsuccessful attempt to drive four-in-hand. As this,
+his first ambitious folly, was also his last, society forbore to
+ridicule it, and even after his death he enjoyed the reputation of an
+'_homme parfaitement bien_.'
+
+His widow bewailed his loss sincerely, and purchased all her mourning
+of _Cyprès_ at reduced prices. Bargains had always been a passion with
+her, and scarcely had her year of mourning passed, before, thanks to
+her expensive taste for cheap, useless articles, she had disposed of
+half the source of her income. Among other things she purchased at low
+prices various stocks which turned out badly. She owed her familiarity
+with financial affairs entirely to her speculative vein, and not at
+all, as her aristocratic relatives and country-folk erroneously
+imagined, to her deceased husband, who had, in fact, held himself
+persistently aloof from former financial acquaintances.
+
+It was not acquisitiveness that spurred Zoë on to her various
+undertakings, but the restlessness of her temperament. She delighted in
+everything novel and fatiguing, whether it were a pilgrimage to
+_Lourdes_, a bargain day at the _Bon Marché_, or a first representation
+at the _Français_, to which, by persistent wire-pulling and constant
+appeals to one and another person of influence, she was able to obtain
+tickets of admission not only for herself but for all her most intimate
+friends. She had one means, however, far more entertaining than all
+others, of procuring the excitement needed by her temperament, and this
+was the introduction to 'the world,' of American or European financial
+magnates. She extorted for them invitations to the most distinguished
+routs, she designed the balls which these wealthy people were to give
+to dazzle Paris withal, and she expended an incredible amount of
+cunning and energy in inducing the aristocratic world to appear at
+these entertainments. Her tactics were those of genius; instead of
+contenting herself after the fashion of less skilful mortals with
+inviting the poorer and more modest members of Paris society, she bent
+all her efforts to securing the presence of some legitimist duchess at
+the ball, if only for an hour. She succeeded in doing this in most
+cases by placing at the duchess' disposal a large sum of money for
+charitable purposes. When she had gained over two or three of these
+fixed stars, the planets of Parisian society began to appear at these
+balls.
+
+Planets, in their social relations, are notably much more fastidious
+than fixed stars, as is but natural; they are forced to reflect a light
+not their own.
+
+The entire scheme was usually most successful; the balls were beautiful
+and everything went excellently well. Sometimes, indeed, not one of the
+assembled guests had the civility to invite the mistress of the mansion
+to dance, and many of those present affected to mistake the host for a
+footman, but none the less was everyone content and pleased when the
+ball was over. Zoë Melkweyser was glad that she had enjoyed so
+brilliant an opportunity of getting out of breath; the givers of the
+ball were pleased to read the long list of their distinguished guests
+in _Figaro_; and _le monde_ rejoiced in having something to laugh at,
+and spent three days in ridiculing the extravagance of the Cotillon
+favours.
+
+The latest and most brilliant of Zoë's protégés was Conte Capriani.
+
+Who was he? What was he? 'A poisonous fungus that the sultry
+storm-laden atmosphere had bred upon heaven only knows what muck-heap.'
+
+A clever statesman had made use of this phrase not long before to
+define the innate characteristics of this Cr[oe]sus. The phrase had
+been laughingly caught up and repeated, and no one had troubled
+themselves further about Capriani's antecedents. In a smaller city they
+would soon have been investigated, but Paris never busies itself long
+with the solution of such commonplace mysteries; on the contrary it
+takes care not to pry into the past of an adventurer whom it finds of
+very great use. Thus the antecedents of this financial Jove remained,
+like those of most deities, shrouded in myth.
+
+Among the many legends that had at first been circulated concerning
+him, was one that he had formerly been a lady's physician and that he
+had been most successful with his aristocratic patients.
+
+Whether this were or were not true, certain it was that his air and
+manner suggested that adulatory, fawning servility which characterizes
+those physicians whose professional efforts are, for lack of other
+occupation, chiefly directed to soothing the nerves of hysteric
+women. His exterior was that of a man who has once been handsome,
+_cidevant-beau_, spoiled only by the piercing glance of his large black
+eyes, and the cynical droop of his loose under-lip. He carried his head
+well forward, as if listening, and around his mouth and eyes there were
+strange lines and wrinkles in the yellow skin which had of late grown
+flabby,--lines suggesting that some of the figures with which he played
+the despot had flown angrily into his face and embedded themselves
+there.
+
+That he had begun life with nothing he himself was wont to declare,
+whenever he gave way to the fit of rage that seized him upon any
+offence offered to his vanity; but how he had gained his immense
+fortune he never told. He made profit out of every thing that afforded
+gain, most of all out of the credulity of indolent inexperienced
+avarice. His success as a 'bear' was famous, and notorious; it
+sometimes seemed as if ill-luck existed only for his advantage, and it
+was well known that he had emerged from great financial crises which
+ruined thousands, not only unharmed, but with an increase of wealth.
+
+There were various whispers afloat concerning his speculations, but no
+one had been able to attach any direct blame to him. Once only, in
+connection with his construction of a Spanish railway he had laid
+himself open to a couple of disgraceful charges. The times were
+unpropitious; the public, exasperated by various huge swindles,
+demanded a victim; but whilst several lesser individuals, were brought
+to trial and subjected to a public investigation, all legal proceedings
+against Capriani were suddenly quashed. Why?.... No one knew or at
+least no one told aloud what was known.
+
+He was a '_personnage tare_,' but the stain upon his name was of so
+peculiar a nature that prudence required of many well-known and eminent
+men that they should not see it. Poor devils who stood outside the
+demoniac spell of his financial magic art called him an unprincipled
+swindler: people who had penetrated within the conjuror's circle called
+him a financial genius, flattered him almost servilely in their longing
+to share in his colossal enterprises, and if they did so procured for
+him in return a slight social recognition. And it was curious to
+observe how much at heart the magnate had this same social recognition,
+how he sued for the favour of every lofty dignitary, of every capital
+letter in the social alphabet. He persisted unweariedly in hurling his
+golden bomb-shells into the stronghold of Parisian society, and at last
+the fortress capitulated. He was received, as an enemy to be sure, with
+closed shutters and in silence, but he was received everywhere, at all
+the embassies, throughout the entire official representative world, and
+even in some drawing-rooms of the Faubourg. Everywhere he met those
+who, while he smiled at them in the most friendly way, looked over his
+shoulder without seeing him, but this he endured serenely. The hour for
+revenge will come, he said to himself, and almost always it did come!
+
+Thanks to an ostentatious benevolence backed by millions, he had of
+late contrived to improve perceptibly his social standing; at his last
+ball, several crowned heads had been present. Zoë was right; he was
+undoubtedly one of the most influential financiers in Europe; she might
+almost have described him as one of the most influential men.
+
+In Paris he was one of the celebrities that are shown to strangers.
+When he walked past, or rather drove past, for he was physically
+indolent and avoided all bodily exertion, he was pointed out as
+Monsieur Grévy or Mdlle. Bernhardt is pointed out. He occupied a vast
+hotel that he had built after the model of the castle of Chenonceau,
+but two stories higher, in the neighbourhood of the Park Monceau; in a
+quarter of an hour after leaving the Avenue Labédoyère the Baroness
+Zoë's _fiacre_ drew up before this mimicry of vanished feudalism
+erected by a modern Cr[oe]sus.
+
+"Gabrielle's betrothal will make everything smooth," she said to
+herself. "I am glad to be well rid of the affair!"
+
+A Maître d'Hôtel, who, it was said, had formerly been chamberlain to
+the Duc de Morny, and one of whose duties it was to instruct his
+present master in the laws of aristocratic etiquette, conducted the
+baroness with dignified solemnity to the 'small drawing-room' where the
+Contessa Capriani was wont to receive on quiet evenings.
+
+The 'small drawing-room' was a very large, and very
+brilliantly-furnished apartment, which, in spite of landscapes by
+Corot, in spite of gold-woven Japanese hangings, old inlaid cabinets
+and a thousand articles of value, produced a dreary in-harmonious
+impression. It was evident that nothing here was devised for the
+pleasure and comfort of the inmates of the house, but that everything
+was arranged with a view of impressing visitors. It almost seemed as if
+millions run mad had tossed all these splendours together aimlessly,
+insanely shouting, "something more costly, something more costly
+still!"
+
+Here sat the Contessa busied with some fancy work. She appeared
+well-bred, but shy, and embarrassed by her wealth, as she advanced a
+few steps to welcome the baroness, made a few conventional remarks, and
+then begged with a sigh to be excused for going on with her work, which
+work consisted in cutting all sorts of flowers and birds out of a piece
+of cretonne in order to sew them on a piece of satin. She devoted
+several hours a day to this occupation, and since her own rooms, as
+well as those of her acquaintances, were far too splendidly furnished
+to have any place in them for this sort of work, the result of her
+diligence was bestowed every year upon some charity-bazaar.
+
+Zoë Melkweyser thought the Contessa unusually depressed. Excited voices
+were heard in the next room, and every time that there was a
+particularly loud explosion the mistress of the mansion winced.
+
+"Can the 300,000 francs which the Duke of Larothière lost last night be
+a bitter pill for even King Midas?" Zoë asked herself.
+
+This supposition proved, however to be erroneous. Madame Capriani moved
+her chair rather nearer to Zoë, and whispered, "My husband is terribly
+agitated,--my poor son--that article in _Figaro_,--you saw it of
+course ...."
+
+"I? I have not seen _Figaro_ to-day," Zoë reassured her. It was true,
+she had not seen _Figaro_ but she had heard of the article to which the
+countess alluded; the excitement in the _casa_ Capriani was quite
+intelligible to her now. No, Capriani never even pulled a wry face at
+the sums lost at play by his son-in-law; he enjoyed smiling away such
+losses; everything was allowable in the duke. For the comparatively
+petty extravagances of his own son he had much less forbearance, in
+fact he showed very little tenderness for this scion of his, whose name
+was Arthur, and who was far from satisfactory to his father. The
+Croesus could forgive his son's noble scorn of everything relating to
+business, for positively refusing to have a desk in his father's
+counting-room and for devoting his entire existence to sport,--but it
+drove him frantic to have Arthur held up to ridicule by the sporting
+world.
+
+Hitherto Arthur's grandest achievements in the sporting world had
+culminated in a couple of broken collar-bones and a quantity of lost
+wagers,--today their number had been increased by a trifling _fiasco_.
+
+A very trifling _fiasco_, but of a highly delicate nature. Two
+Austrians, an attaché and one of his friends at present in Paris, both
+belonging to extremely aristocratic families, had lately out of wild
+caprice, and amid much laughter, undertaken to run a foot-race
+backwards.
+
+Several French journals had taken immediate occasion to write articles
+on this eccentric wager, describing backward races as a traditional and
+very favourite sport among the youthful aristocrats of Austria. These
+journalistic rhapsodies had incited Arthur Capriani to arrange a
+similar race with brilliant accessories, music, torchlight, and a large
+assemblage of young dandies, and ladies of every description. He lost
+the race, got a severe contusion on his head, and the next day appeared
+the article in _Figaro_ which so exasperated the Conte.
+
+"If you were only capable of something in the world beside making
+yourself ridiculous!" Zoë distinctly heard the father's excited voice
+say, "but you can do nothing else, nothing! And to think of my toiling
+for you,--making money for you!"
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ you make money because you delight in nothing else,"
+retorted young Capriani.
+
+"And for you--for _you_, I am contemplating one of the most brilliant
+matches in Austria," the Conte fairly shouted, "'tis ridiculous!"
+
+"I fancy that Count Truyn agrees with you there," was Arthur's
+repartee.
+
+"Ah, you would, would you?--you dare to sneer at your father?" Capriani
+burst forth, after the illogical fashion of angry men, "the father to
+whom you owe everything! I should like to see you begin life as I did,
+bare-footed, with only one gulden in your pocket!"
+
+"What's the use of these recriminations?" drawled the son, "your
+antecedents mortify me enough without them, and ...."
+
+There was a incoherent cry, a savage word ....!
+
+The Contessa, very pale, put down her scissors; she trembled violently.
+
+"I think it would be better to separate them," Zoë remarked very
+calmly.
+
+"I will try to," gasped Madame Capriani, and opening the door into the
+next room, she called, "_Mon-ami_, the Baroness Melkweyser is here--I
+believe she brings you some news ...."
+
+"_Il s'agit de votre fameuse affaire, mon cher comte_," Zoë called
+coaxingly.
+
+Her words produced a magical effect; both men made their appearance,
+the father with a honeyed smile, the son, a short thick-set fellow with
+handsome features but a rude ill-tempered air, frowning and sullen.
+
+"_Bon soir baronne_."
+
+"_Bon soir_."
+
+"_Eh bien?_" and settling himself in an arm-chair, his legs
+outstretched, and toying with his double eyeglass in the triumphant
+attitude with which he was wont to contemplate the favourable
+development of some particularly clever business transaction, Capriani
+began, "So you have at last found a favourable opportunity."
+
+"No,--no, not at all!" said Zoë, "but I thought best not to leave you
+in uncertainty any longer, and so I came to you this evening."
+
+"You know I gave you no authority to make a direct proposal," said the
+Conte.
+
+"How can you suppose me capable of such want of tact!" Zoë rejoined
+hypocritically, "unfortunately I have not been able even to find out
+how the land lies. If you had commissioned me a little sooner--just a
+little sooner,--but there is nothing to be done now, for Gabrielle
+Truyn is already betrothed!"
+
+"_Nom d'un chien!_" muttered Arthur; he had been no less impressed by
+Gabrielle's beauty than by her lofty descent--"_nom d'un chien!_"
+
+"Indeed, already betrothed," his father said coldly, slowly putting his
+eyeglass upon his nose and scanning the baroness mistrustfully as he
+asked, "betrothed to whom?"
+
+"To her cousin, Oswald Lodrin."
+
+"To Oswald Lodrin," he repeated quickly. "You cannot, indeed, enter the
+lists against him, my poor Arthur!"
+
+"Perhaps not as far as arrogance is concerned," growled the Vicomte,
+"he is the haughtiest human being I ever came across."
+
+"That may be, but--" the Conte smiled oddly, "he is also one of the
+handsomest and most distinguished of Austrians, and he is renowned as
+such."
+
+Whilst Arthur continued to mutter unintelligibly, but in evident
+ill-humor, Capriani senior left his arm-chair and taking a low seat
+beside Zoë, said, "To-morrow the X---- railway stock is to be issued.
+The shares will be in great demand; shall I save you a couple of
+hundred?"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+The fragrance of the elder blossoms floated sweet and strong upon the
+air in the dim warm stillness of the Avenue Labédoyère. The poetry that
+breathes in the odour of flowers no words can reproduce, music alone
+can sometimes translate it; it ascended from the full white panicles in
+the little garden before the Hôtel Truyn and breathed through the open
+window into Gabrielle's chamber like an exultant yearning, like a song
+filled with love's delicious pain.
+
+Zinka sat on the edge of the little white bed where the young girl was
+lying, her golden hair rippling about her brow and temples, while upon
+her pale face lay the melancholy of illimitable joy; her eyes were
+moist.
+
+"And you are not surprised, Zini ... not at all?" she whispered.
+
+"No, my child," replied Zinka tenderly, "not in the least; I knew you
+were destined for each other from the first moment that I saw you
+together."
+
+"Ah," Gabrielle sighed, "I cannot comprehend it yet. It all seems to me
+like a delicious dream from which I must waken, but even if I must,
+even if the dear God takes from me all that He has given me, I shall
+thank Him on my knees as long as I live for this one lovely dream."
+
+"Calm yourself, my darling," Zinka whispered, lovingly stroking the
+young girl's cheeks, "how your cheeks burn!" And she poured a few drops
+of essence of orange flowers into a glass of water, "drink this, you
+little enthusiast."
+
+"It will do no good, dear little mother," said Gabrielle, obediently
+lifting the composing draught to her burning lips. "Ah, you cannot
+imagine how I feel, it seems as if--as if my heart would break with
+happiness!"
+
+Zinka kissed her, made the sign of the cross upon her forehead, drew
+the coverlet over her shoulders, once more admonished her to be calm,
+and left her.
+
+Thunder rumbled without; Zinka started and as a second clap resounded
+she turned back. "Are you afraid of the storm, Ella, shall I stay with
+you?" she asked gently.
+
+"Ah no, dear little mother," Gabrielle replied in the intoxication of
+her happiness, "I hardly hear the thunder."
+
+And Zinka departed. "I do not know why I cannot rejoice in this as I
+ought," she said to herself, "it seems to me as if we had forgotten to
+invite some one of the twelve fairies to this betrothal."
+
+And whilst the thunder crashed above the Champs Elysées she suddenly
+recalled an old fairy story that a fever-stricken peasant from the
+Trastevere had once told her in Rome.
+
+It was a gloomy story, one of those legends in which the popular
+imagination, boldly overleaping all chronological and historical
+obstacles, bestows upon Pagan gods the wings of Christian angels, and
+arms God the Father with the lightnings of angry Jove. It ran somewhat
+thus:
+
+"There was once a beautiful maiden who was good as an angel, so good
+that it gave her unutterable pain to see any one sad and not to be able
+to help; and once when she had cried herself to sleep over the woes of
+mankind she had a wonderful vision. A dark form with a veiled face
+approached her and said, 'If you have the courage to cut your heart out
+of your breast and plant it deep in the earth, there will spring from
+it a flower so glorious, so wonderful, that whoever inhales its
+fragrance will feel a bliss so intense that he would gladly purchase it
+with all the torture of our mortal existence.'
+
+"And the maiden cut her heart out of her breast and planted it deep in
+the brown earth, and watered it with her tears, and there sprang from
+it a magically-beautiful flower, with luxuriant green leaves, and large
+white blossoms with blood-red calyxes, and whoever inhaled the breath
+of these blossoms felt an intoxicating delight course through his
+veins, so that in his wild ecstasy he forgot all earthly care and
+trouble. The flowers unfolded to more and more enchanting loveliness,
+and through the thick foliage sighed the sweetest music.
+
+"Now when the angels in Heaven heard of this strange plant they
+entreated the Almighty Father to allow them to go get it and to plant
+it in Paradise.
+
+"The Lord granted their request. Then they fluttered down from Heaven,
+but when they approached the wondrous plant a voice spoke from it,
+saying, 'Let me alone, I blossom for the consolation of the earth, I
+could not live in Paradise; the soil in which I flourish must be
+watered with heart's blood and tears!'
+
+"But the angels did not heed these words, and, beguiled by the
+delicious fragrance, they tried to tear away the roots from the lap of
+earth; their efforts were vain, they had to return with their purpose
+unfulfilled.
+
+"When mankind saw this it exulted in its blissful possession. Happy
+mortals laughed at the angels' futile envy. Then the angels prostrated
+themselves anew at the feet of the Almighty, and implored Him to
+revenge them upon the blasphemers. And the Almighty gave ear to their
+prayer; He hurled a thunderbolt at the plant, and it was swept from off
+the face of the earth.
+
+"But its roots still slumber underground, and sometimes when in mild
+spring nights a mysterious fragrance steals upon the air, a fragrance
+wafted from no visible blossom, these roots are stirring to life, and
+green leaves shoot upward into the spring. But the sweet perfume still
+moves the angels to anger, and it scarcely rises aloft before the
+thunder rolls over the earth and the lightning blasts the green leaves.
+The flower will never blossom again."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Oswald and his cousin Georges were sitting at breakfast in their
+pleasant room in the Hotel Bristol by a window that looked out upon the
+Place Vendôme, and down the brilliant Rue de la Paix, the perspective
+of which was lost in a hurly-burly of omnibuses, orange carts, flower
+wagons, advertising vehicles painted fiery red, fiacres, sun-illumined
+dust, and human beings rushing madly hither and thither. Whilst Georges
+was drinking his tea in sober comfort with a brief remark as to the
+incomparable excellence of the Paris butter, Oswald, who although
+endowed by nature with an excellent appetite had paid but scant
+attention to his meals of late, recounted for the tenth time to his
+cousin the extraordinary combination of circumstances which had brought
+together Gabrielle and himself. He was a victim of the lovers' delusion
+that sees in the most ordinary occurrences the finger of the Deity, and
+that regards their happiness as a special marvel wrought by Providence
+for their benefit.
+
+It was, so Oswald narrated, in April, on the second day of the Auteuil
+races, the first faint tinge of green was perceptible on the landscape.
+He was on horseback, riding a magnificent Arabian steed which one of
+his friends had lent him, and which he was handling with the excessive
+care which an Austrian always bestows upon a horse that is not his own.
+Suddenly he saw walking across the race-course a young lady in a dark
+green dress; a ray of sunlight that turned her hair to gold attracted
+his attention to her. She walked quickly past with an elderly gentleman
+and Oswald turned to look after her. His horse was a little restless,
+his rider's spurs were rather too sharp; with the sudden movement he
+scratched the animal's silken skin, and instantly exclaimed, "_Ah,
+pardon!_" a piece of courtesy for which his companions ridiculed him
+loudly. In the meantime the young lady with the gray-haired gentleman
+had vanished.
+
+"Who is that exquisitely beautiful girl?" he asked, and Wips Siegburg,
+secretary of the Austrian Legation, replied laughing, "Do you not know
+her, she is your cousin!"
+
+"Gabrielle Truyn!" exclaimed Oswald; and Siegburg said sagely, "this
+comes of enjoying one's self too busily in Paris, and consequently
+finding no time to visit one's nearest relatives."
+
+Oswald peered in every direction but he could not discover her again.
+After the race, under the leafless trees of the Champs Elysées rolled
+crowds of carriages, victorias, all sorts of coaches, four-in-hands,
+lumbering roomy omnibuses,--all veiled in the whirling, sunlit dust as
+in golden gauze, while everywhere, alike in the omnibuses and in the
+more elegant vehicles, reigned a uniform air of dull fatigue.
+
+Paris had lost another battle with ennui.
+
+In the motley throng Oswald was almost forced to walk his horse,
+pondering as he went upon the best way of excusing his discourtesy to
+his uncle. He had now been four entire weeks in Paris, and had not yet
+presented himself in the Avenue Labédoyère. Fortunately he had gone so
+little into society that he had not yet met the Truyns; Paris is so
+huge, perhaps they had not yet heard that he was there. Yes, Paris is
+huge, but 'society' everywhere is small. No, he could hardly venture to
+appear at his uncle's yet.
+
+He was growing quite melancholy over these reflections, when he
+suddenly observed that his horse had coolly poked his nose over the
+hood, which had been thrown back, of a low carriage in front, and was
+nibbling at a bouquet of white roses that he found there. Oswald
+shortened his bridle, and just then a lady sitting in the carriage
+turned round; it was Gabrielle Truyn. With no attempt to conceal her
+displeasure she observed what had been done, and when Oswald, hat in
+hand, humbly stammered his excuses, she bestowed upon him the haughty
+stare which an insolent intruder would have merited, and turned away.
+She knew perfectly well who he was, as he afterwards learned, and that
+he had been four weeks in Paris. The gentleman beside her now turned
+round, his eyes met Oswald's; he smiled, and said with good-humoured
+sarcasm ... "Ossi!--what an unexpected pleasure!"
+
+"Uncle--I--I have long been intending to pay you my respects...."
+Oswald stammered.
+
+"Apparently your resolutions require time to ripen," said Truyn drily.
+
+"Ah uncle!--I--may I come to see you now?"
+
+"You do us too much honour," said Truyn provokingly, "we will kill the
+fatted calf and celebrate the Prodigal's return." Then taking pity upon
+his nephew's embarrassment he added. "Don't be afraid, we shall not
+turn you out of doors, we have some consideration for young gentlemen
+who are in Paris for the first time; we know that they have other
+things to do besides looking up tiresome relatives, what say you,
+Ella?"
+
+"My cousin has forgotten me," the young man murmured, "have the
+kindness to present me to her."
+
+"It is your cousin, Oswald Lodrin, an old playmate of yours."
+
+At her father's words Gabrielle merely turned her exquisite profile
+towards her cousin and acknowledged his low bow by a slight inclination
+of her head. Then she stretched out her hand for her bouquet,
+murmuring, "My poor roses! they are entirely ruined." And she suddenly
+tossed them away into the road. There was an opening in the blockade of
+carriages before them; Gabrielle's golden hair gleamed before Oswald's
+eyes for a flash, then all around grew gray; the twilight had absorbed
+the last glimmer of sunshine.
+
+That same evening Oswald ordered at a large flower shop, on the
+Madeleine Boulevard, the most exquisite bouquet of gardenias, orchids
+and white roses that Paris could produce and sent it to his cousin to
+replace her ruined roses.
+
+All this he retailed. His first visit, too, in the Avenue Labédoyère,
+the visit when he did not find Truyn at home, and when Gabrielle did
+not make her appearance, but Zinka, whom he had not known before,
+received him. There had been much discussion in Austria over this
+second marriage of his uncle, and Oswald had brought to Paris a violent
+antipathy to Zinka. But it soon vanished, or rather was transformed
+into a very affectionate esteem.
+
+And then the first little dinner, a very little dinner (just to make
+them acquainted, Truyn said) strictly _en famille_--no strangers, only
+Oswald and Siegburg. The brightly-lit table with its flowers, glass,
+and sparkling silver, in the middle of the dim brown dining-room, the
+delicate fair heads of the two ladies in their light dresses standing
+out so charmingly against the background of the old leather hangings,
+Truyn's paternal cordiality, and Zinka's kindly raillery,--he thought
+he had never had so delightful a dinner.
+
+Gabrielle, to be sure, held herself rather aloof. She evidently
+resented his tardy appearance in the Avenue Labédoyère; she hardly
+noticed his beautiful flowers. She talked exclusively to Siegburg who
+was odiously entertaining, and who glanced across the table now and
+then, his eyes sparkling with merry malice, at Oswald. Then as they
+were serving the asparagus, he took it into his head to ask Gabrielle,
+"Do you know who is the most courteous man in Paris, Countess
+Gabrielle?"
+
+"No, how should I?"
+
+"Your charming cousin there," rejoined the young diplomat.
+
+"Indeed!" Gabrielle said with incredulous emphasis, bending her head a
+little on one side as is the fashion with pretty women when they
+undertake the inconvenient task of eating asparagus.
+
+"Yes, verily, he says '_pardon_' even to his horse, when he scratches
+it with his spurs."
+
+"Ah! Apparently he lavishes all his courtesy upon horses," Gabrielle
+said pointedly.
+
+"In the case to which I allude, he really did owe some consideration to
+his horse, for the poor animal could not possibly know why he was made
+to feel the spur. The fact was that at the races the other day Lodrin
+saw a lady the sight of whom so electrified him that he turned
+positively all round on his horse, and in doing so scratched the poor
+beast with his spur."
+
+"Ah, and who, if one may ask, was this remarkable lady?" asked
+Gabrielle.
+
+"Ella, since when have you become conscience keeper for young
+gentlemen?" asked Truyn.
+
+She blushed to the roots of her hair, but Oswald said with perfect
+composure, looking her directly in the face: "Certainly--it was
+Countess Gabrielle Truyn."
+
+She bit her lip angrily.
+
+"It serves you right," said Truyn smiling, "why do you ask about
+matters that do not concern you? The jest, however, is a little stale,
+Ossi."'
+
+"I should not venture to jest; I simply told the truth," rejoined
+Oswald. In view of the young girl's evident agitation he had regained
+entire calm.
+
+"One is not always justified in telling the truth," Gabrielle observed
+with the pettish frankness in which even the best-bred young ladies
+will indulge, when irritated by the accelerated beating of their
+hearts.
+
+"Indeed? Not even in reply to a question?" Oswald said very quietly,
+and Truyn frowned after the fashion of affectionate papas, whose
+daughters' behaviour does not exactly gratify their paternal ambition.
+Zinka interrupted the fencing of the young people by an inquiry as to
+the new vaudeville which Gabrielle wished to see, but of which Zinka
+was not quite sure she should approve.
+
+Oswald took no further notice of Gabrielle that evening, but devoted
+himself to Zinka. He sat beside her for nearly an hour, and enjoyed it
+extremely; she had a charming way of listening, assenting to his
+observations by a silent smile, and inciting him to all kinds of small
+confidences, without asking any direct questions.
+
+When he afterwards reflected upon what had been the interesting subject
+of their conversation, he discovered that she had led him to speak only
+of himself, that he had told her everything about his life that a young
+man can tell to a young woman whom he has seen but twice.
+
+She listened attentively, and when he took his leave she had grown
+almost cordial.
+
+"Now that you have broken the ice, I hope we shall see you frequently.
+_A propos_, to-morrrow is our night at the opera; if you have nothing
+more agreeable in prospect and have not heard '_La Juive_' too
+often...."
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+And then the charming, uncertain, hoping, exulting, despairing time
+that ensued! Gabrielle's pique slowly vanished; then without any
+reasonable cause returned; her behaviour towards her cousin vacillated
+strangely between naive cordiality and proud reserve; some days she
+seemed to misconstrue everything that was said, and then all at once a
+single cordial word would mollify her.
+
+And the dances, the cotillon at the Countess Crecy's ball in the pretty
+little Hôtel, Rue St. Dominique,--the cotillon in which all had paid
+homage to Gabrielle as to a young queen, and in which when, of all the
+favours that she had to bestow only one remained, she suddenly became
+confused, looking from the favour to her cousin, and seeming more and
+more undecided until at last he advanced a step towards her and
+whispered, "Well, Gabrielle, am I to have the Golden Fleece or not?"
+
+That was two days before the betrothal. To the day of his death he
+should wear that favour and no other on his heart. It should be buried
+with him!
+
+Although not given to writing much he had kept a diary in Paris. Long
+since he had torn out the first pages; its contents now extended
+exactly from the first meeting to the first kiss. After his marriage
+the book was to be sealed up, to be given to his eldest son upon his
+twenty-first birthday.
+
+Whilst Oswald, borne upon a lover's wings that knew no boundary line
+between heaven and earth, between the future and the past, at one time
+eulogized his betrothed, and at another made arrangements for his own
+burial, and his eldest son's twenty-first birthday, Georges, who had
+gradually finished his breakfast, leaned back in his chair watching the
+fantastic wreaths of smoke ascending from the bowl of his tschibouk.
+When at last Oswald paused and fell into a reverie he took occasion to
+utter the following profundity. "Living is very dear in Paris!" Twice
+was he obliged to repeat this brilliant aphorism, before Oswald seemed
+to hear it. Then glancing at his cousin reproachfully, the young fellow
+put his hand in his pocket, "would you like the key, Georges?" he said
+offering it to him.
+
+"No," replied Georges, taking Oswald's hand, key and all in his own,
+and pressing it down upon the table. "No, my dear fellow, many thanks.
+Do you remember what Montaigne says about _le désir qui s'accroist par
+la malaysance_."
+
+"Montaigne?--I am not very intimate with the old gentleman," Oswald
+replied with a laugh, "how came you pray to make his acquaintance?"
+
+"Why you see, Oswald, there have been times when my means were not
+sufficient to provide me with amusements befitting my station in life,
+and I was obliged to have recourse, _faute de mieux_, to reading. But
+to recur to _plaisirs de la malaysance_, Montaigne proves as clearly as
+that two and two make four that if there were no locks there would be
+no thieves! Now,--hm--one thing is certain; since your strong box has
+been open to me I no longer have the smallest desire to possess myself
+of its contents. Do you know, Ossi, that I have grown very fond of you
+in these few weeks? Do not overturn the pepper cruet," he admonished
+his cousin, who suddenly extended his hand to him with somewhat awkward
+shyness. "Yes, very fond, you have effected a radical change in me; I
+should really like to go back with you to Bohemia, perhaps you could
+find me something to do there. Will you take me with you to Bohemia?"
+
+"With the greatest pleasure, Georges."
+
+"Reflect a little. What would your mother say to your introducing an
+unbidden guest into her household?"
+
+"My dear Georges, my mother, if I were to take home Karl Marx--or--" he
+did not conclude for at that moment his servant brought in a small
+salver upon which lay his newspapers and letters.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+A couple of cards of invitation were after a fleeting examination stuck
+into the frame of the mirror, then came two Austrian newspapers, then
+three letters from Austria; one addressed in a firm, bold hand he
+opened instantly with a smile of pleasure and the exclamation "from my
+mother! at last! I am very curious to know what she says to my
+betrothal--I began to be anxious--she has taken so long to write."
+
+But the light in his eyes faded, he frowned, angrily crushed the letter
+together, and propping his elbows on the table leaned his head upon his
+hands. "I could not have thought this possible," he murmured.
+
+"Is not your mother satisfied?" Georges asked.
+
+"Satisfied--?" growled Oswald, "satisfied--? she couldn't be
+dissatisfied if she tried ever so hard, but she does not rejoice with
+me. There, read that. 'Dear child, I agree to everything that will make
+you happy, and pray for every blessing upon yourself and your
+betrothed, whom, moreover, I remember as a charming little girl ....'"
+
+"Well, what more can you ask?" said Georges, elevating his eyebrows.
+
+"What more can I ask?" Oswald very nearly shouted, "what more can I
+ask? why, I am not used to having such conventional phrases served up
+to me by my mother!"
+
+"Do you and your mother live upon perfectly good terms with each
+other?" asked Georges, mechanically brushing away a few crumbs on the
+table-cloth, and without looking at his cousin.
+
+Oswald opened his eyes wide. "My mother and I? Why, yes, what can you
+be thinking of?"
+
+Georges made no reply, he remembered perfectly well that years
+previously, before he had left home the Countess Lodrin had been
+anything but tender to her charming little son, nay, that she had been
+the downright fine-lady mother who figures in romances, but who
+fortunately is found but seldom in real life.
+
+He thought it unnecessary, however, to remind his cousin of this.
+
+In the meanwhile Oswald had somewhat cooled down. "My poor unreasonable
+mother!" he said half-aloud to himself, "it is so hard for her to give
+me up, in all her life she has had me only. Well, I shall soon bring
+her round. Ah, Georges, Georges, it seems but a poor arrangement in
+this life that we must so often take from one person to give to
+another! I only hope that my mother's letter to my betrothed is more
+cordial. Ah, here are two more epistles," and in no cheerful mood he
+opened one after the other of the two very business-like envelopes,
+read their contents, compared them with each other, threw both upon the
+table and, quite pale, with very red lips and flashing eyes, began to
+pace to and fro, from time to time passing his hand angrily across his
+forehead. "Everything disagreeable is sure to happen all at once!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+Georges knowing his cousin's impetuousity watched his excitement with
+smiling composure. "Is Vesuvius again in a state of eruption," he said
+kindly, "or what is the matter, man alive?"
+
+"Siegl is an ass!"
+
+"Ah?--and your man of business besides?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then this present affair is a matter of business?"
+
+"No!" Oswald said gloomily, "an affair of honour. The matter is that I
+am forced to break my word--_voilà tont!_ But I cannot understand
+Siegl, he ought to know ...." Suddenly he went to his secretary, opened
+it, rummaged nervously among a chaos of letters, at last finding a
+closely-written sheet, which he read through carefully, then grew
+very quiet, and seating himself opposite Georges at the uncleared
+breakfast-table, said "I am wrong, it is my fault."
+
+"Pray explain yourself," said Georges, "my counsel, and my experience
+are at your service."
+
+"The matter is simple enough. Before I came away from home I gave Siegl
+a power of attorney to conclude an unfinished sale, the sale of a
+couple of insignificant building lots in W----. In practical business
+matters I can thoroughly rely upon him. Well, the other day I had this
+letter from him asking whether I would agree to the winding up of the
+affair under certain conditions, and at the end of the letter he asked
+me in this case to telegraph him. His handwriting is execrable and his
+style most tedious,--and--and I hurried off to the Avenue Labédoyère. I
+was going to ride in the Bois with Gabrielle,--in short I skimmed over
+the letter, never noticing that he asked about another far more
+important sale, and telegraphed, 'I agree to everything; do as you
+think best.'"
+
+"_Eh bien!_"
+
+Oswald cleared his throat. "You remember Dr. Schmitt? He was our family
+physician, a true man if ever there was one, my father valued him
+highly. Well, he leased an estate from us, Kanitz, it lies in one
+corner of the Schneeburg grounds; after the old man's death his son
+held the lease, he is a very good fellow, we served together in the
+same regiment in our volunteer year. He married, and set great store by
+the lease, which would run out in three years. Before his marriage he
+came to me to know whether he might depend upon an extension of the
+lease; of course I promised it to him, thereby relieving him of immense
+anxiety. And now Siegl has sold the property at a high price to
+Capriani, and is very proud of the transaction, and it is all because
+of my thoughtlessness, because I thought it too tedious to read through
+his roundabout epistle and .... and young Schmitt, poor devil, is quite
+beside himself, and writes me this letter! I cannot understand Siegl,
+he might have asked me again, he knows me perfectly well, he ought
+to have known that I could never have contemplated anything of the
+kind ....! But it's just the way with all my people! If they can make a
+few gulden for me, no matter how, they pride themselves upon it hugely;
+no one seems to understand that I care precious little for the
+augmentation of my income; what I want is, to alleviate as far as lies
+in my power the existence of as many men as possible!"
+
+"How old are you, Ossi?" Georges asked with an oddly-scrutinizing
+glance at his cousin.
+
+"Twenty-six. What makes you ask?"
+
+"Your transcendental views of life, my child. Men and ants are born
+with wings, but both rub them off in the struggle for existence,--men
+usually do so before they are twenty-four."
+
+"That goal is passed," rejoined Oswald, "and the winged ants do not
+lose their wings, they only die young," and he became again absorbed in
+study of the two letters. "I cannot blame Siegl this time, try as hard
+as I can, it is _my_ fault; 'tis enough to drive one mad!"
+
+"I can understand how it goes against the grain, but--well, you must
+indemnify Schmitt with another property."
+
+"That of course, but it does not help the matter," Oswald grumbled, "he
+has a special love for Kanitz--he was born there, his parents are
+buried there in a pretty little churchyard on the edge of the woods by
+the Holtitzer brook. He takes care of their graves himself--they are
+perfect beds of flowers. And his wife!--I paid her a visit last
+Autumn,--she is a dear little shy thing, and she looked at me out
+of her large eyes as if I were Omnipotence itself. There is such an
+old-fashioned loyalty, so poetic a content about those people; upon
+whom shall we depend if we heedlessly destroy the devotion of such as
+they? Schmitt must keep Kanitz, even although I buy it back at double
+the price paid for it!"
+
+"My dear fellow you can do nothing with money where Capriani is
+concerned," Georges observed calmly, "but I am convinced that he is
+very desirous of standing well with all of you. If you make a personal
+request of him he certainly will not object to annul his purchase. If
+the matter is really important to you go and call upon Capriani,
+and...."
+
+Oswald tossed his head angrily. "What? ask me to have any personal
+intercourse with that man--no--in an extreme case indeed----but there
+must be some legal way out of the difficulty, it is a matter for our
+agents--_Ça!_ A quarter of twelve and I breakfast at Truyn's."
+
+"You must make haste. Can I do anything for you?"
+
+Oswald went to the writing-table and in large bold characters
+wrote a couple of lines on a sheet of paper. "Pray see that this
+telegraph to Schmitt goes off immediately, and then one thing
+more--if it does not bore you too much--please leave a card for me at
+the places on this list. Do not take any trouble, but if you should be
+passing.... Good-bye old fellow--remember we are to go home together."
+
+"Hotspur!" murmured Georges as the door closed after his cousin. "Well,
+after all, I do not grudge him his position; he becomes it well."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+If Oswald Lodrin might be regarded as the chivalric embodiment of the
+old-time '_noblesse oblige_,' his cousin Georges was on the contrary
+the personification of the modern axiom '_noblesse permet_.'
+
+He had made use of the credit of the Lodrins, the accumulation of
+centuries, to screen his maddest pranks. True, he had never overdrawn
+this credit, he had never by any of his numberless eccentricities
+raised any barrier between himself and his equals in rank. He had grown
+to manhood discontentedly convinced that Count Hugo Lodrin, his
+father's elder brother, had done him great wrong, and this wrong was
+his marriage late in life with the beautiful Princess Wjera Zinsenburg.
+
+Georges was barely eight years old at the time, but he remembered as
+long as he lived how angrily his father, after a life of careless
+extravagance led in the certainty of inheriting the Lodrin estates, had
+received the announcement of the betrothal, and how hardly he had
+spoken of Wjera Zinsenburg.
+
+The boy grew up, his heart filled with a hatred none the less vehement
+because it was childish, first for his aunt, and afterward for his
+cousin.
+
+His hatred for his aunt grew with his growth, but as for his hatred for
+his cousin?... It was difficult to cherish resentment against his
+loving, helpless little cousin with his big black eyes and pretty rosy
+mouth. And in the summer holidays, which he spent every year in Tornow
+with his father, he struck up a friendship with the little fellow.
+
+It was a lasting friendship. One day after his father's death when he
+had for several years been an officer of hussars, and always in
+pecuniary difficulties, Georges received a letter, which upon very
+slanting lines evidently ruled in pencil by Ossi, himself, and in very
+sprawling clumsy characters, ran thus:
+
+
+"Dear Georges,
+
+"Papa says you need money, I don't need any, so I send you my pocket
+money, and when I'm big you shall have more. The donkeys are given
+away. Papa got angry with Jack because he bit me. Now, for a
+punishment, he has to carry sand for the gardeners. I have a pair of
+ponies now; they are very pretty and I ride every day. I can ride quite
+well and I am not afraid, but I stroke Jack whenever I see him, and I
+think he is ashamed of himself.
+
+                                   "Your Ossi."
+
+
+Yes, he needed money--a great deal of money; his father had left him
+next to nothing, and the small allowance which his uncle made him,
+always seasoning it with good advice, did not nearly suffice him.
+
+His uncle paid his debts upon condition that he should exchange from
+the hussars into the dragoons, then held in rather high estimation as
+heavy cavalry. Georges needed money quite as much as a dragoon,
+however, as when a hussar. Then came feminine influences--a quarrel
+with his colonel--a duel. He resigned his commission with honour and to
+the regret of the entire staff. Once more, and, as he was solemnly
+informed, for the last time, his uncle paid his debts, and wishing to
+have no further concern in his nephew's money matters he also paid out
+a handsome sum as a release from all further demands.
+
+Georges manifested his repentance after this settlement by an immediate
+excursion to Paris with a pert little French concert-saloon singer.
+This was the finishing stroke in the eyes of his strictly moral, nay,
+even bigotted uncle. From that time onward the young man's letters to
+the old count were returned to him unopened. Georges vanished from the
+scene. The rumour ran that after he had tried his luck and failed in
+the California gold diggings, he had been a rider in a circus; there
+was also a report that he had served mahogany-coloured Spaniards and
+jet-black negroes as waiter at Rio Janeiro, that he had been an omnibus
+driver in New York--this last fact was vouched for. Still, he contrived
+to impress the stamp of spontaneous eccentricity upon every one of the
+expedients to which he resorted in his pecuniary embarrassments.
+
+One day after Oswald had attained his majority he received a letter in
+which his cousin, after appealing to the old boyish friendship,
+described his present condition. Oswald, who was kindheartedness
+itself, and, moreover, enthusiastically eager to discharge his duties
+as head of the family, did not delay an hour in arranging his cousin's
+affairs and in settling upon him an income suitable to his rank.
+
+Thus Georges returned to his old sphere of life and to his former
+habits, smiling calmly, but testifying no special delight, and not the
+slightest surprise at the change in his circumstances. The honest
+friendship which he felt for the cousin whom as a child he had petted,
+quite destroyed his old grudge against his fate.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+Picture a sleepy little market-town lying, at a respectful distance,
+near a very large castle, where the clock in the tower has not gone for
+twenty years; a ruggedly uneven market-place, thickly paved with sharp
+stones and no sidewalk, queer old-fashioned houses with high-gabled
+roofs and small windows, and here and there a faded-out image of
+the Virgin above an arched gateway, a tradesman's shop serving as
+post-office as well as for the sale of tobacco, and adorned over the
+doorway with a wreath of wooden lemons and pomegranates, and the
+imperial double-eagle, a corner where stands a piled-up carrier's van
+covered with black oilskin, a smithy sending forth from its dark
+interior a shower of crimson sparks, while from the low passage-way of
+the opposite inn, 'The Golden Lion,' a waiter with a dirty apron, and
+bare feet thrust into old red slippers, is gazing over at the smithy
+where a crowd of dripping street boys are collected about two
+thoroughbreds and a groom liveried in the English fashion--picture all
+this and you see Rautschin,--Rautschin on a dark afternoon in May in a
+pouring rain with an accompaniment of thunder and lightning.
+
+Somewhat apart from the gaping urchins a young man is walking to and
+fro in front of the row of houses; his quick impatient step testifies
+to his having been detained by some untoward mishap and also to his
+being quite unused to such delay.
+
+The rain descends from heaven in fine, regular, grey sheets. The young
+man's cigar has gone out, he is cold, and thoroughly annoyed he passes
+the unattractive waiter and enters the inn.
+
+The room in which he takes refuge is low and spacious with bright blue
+walls, and a well-smoked ceiling. Limp, soiled muslin curtains
+reminding one of the train of an old ball-dress, hang before the
+windows where are glass hanging-lamps, and flower-pots of painted
+porcelain filled with mignonette, cactuses, and catnip. The furniture
+consists of two chromos representing the Emperor and his consort, of a
+number of yellow chairs, of several green tables, and of an array of
+spittoons.
+
+At one of the tables sit three guests evidently much at home; one of
+them is tuning a zither, while the other two are smoking very
+malodorous cigars, and drinking beer out of tankards of greenish glass.
+Engaged in eager conversation none of them observed the entrance of the
+stranger who, to avoid attracting attention, seated himself in a dark
+corner with his back to the group.
+
+"A couple more truck-loads of all sorts of fine furniture have arrived
+at Schneeburg," remarked one of the trio, a young man with red hair,
+and unusual length of limb. He is a surveyor's clerk, his name is
+Wenzl Wostraschil, but he is familiarly known as 'the Daily News' from
+the amount of sensational intelligence which he disperses. "Count
+Capriani ...."
+
+"I know of no Count Capriani," interrupted an old gentleman with white
+hair and a red face; he is Doctor Swoboda, by profession district
+physician, in politics just as strictly conservative as Count Truyn
+became as soon as he had proclaimed his socialism by taking to himself
+a bourgeoise bride--"I know of no Count Capriani, you probably mean
+Conte!"
+
+"It is the same thing," observed the zither player, Herr Cibulka.
+
+"In the dictionary, perhaps," the old doctor rejoined sarcastically.
+
+"The two titles are synonymous in my opinion," said Herr Cibulka as he
+laid aside his tuning-key and began to play 'The Tyrolean and his
+child,' while with closed lips he half-hummed, half-murmured the air to
+himself, his big fat hands groping to and fro on the instrument as if
+trying to aid his memory.
+
+Herr Cibulka--this sonorous Slavonic name signifies _onion_ in
+Bohemian--Eugène Alexander Cibulka--he is wont to sign his name with a
+very tiny Cibulka at the end of a very big Eugene Alexander--assistant
+district-attorney, transcendentalist, and Lovelace, is the pioneer of
+culture in the sleepy droning little town. He is a tall young fellow
+inclining to corpulence, with an uncommonly luxuriant growth of hair on
+both his head and face, and with the flabby oily skin of a man who has
+all his life long been fed upon dainties.
+
+Evidently much occupied with his outer man he dresses himself as he
+says, 'simply but tastefully;' he pulls his cuffs well over his
+knuckles, and delights in a snuff-coloured velvet coat with metal
+buttons. He fancies that he looks like the Flying Dutchman, or at least
+like the brigand, Jaromir. In reality he looks like an advertisement
+for 'the only genuine onion ointment for the beard.' He is considered
+by the Rautschin ladies as quite irresistible and fabulously cultured.
+He criticises everything--music, literature and politics, being
+especially great in the domain of politics, and he discourses at length
+whenever an opportunity presents itself, combating with admirable
+energy perils that have long ceased to terrify any one. It is not clear
+as to what party he belongs, but since he berates the clergy, hates the
+nobility, and despises the lower-classes, consequently pursuing the
+straight and narrow path of his subjective vanities and social
+aspirations, he probably considers himself a Liberal. His uncle is in
+the ministerial department and _he_ dreams of a portfolio.
+
+Meanwhile the red-haired man with an air of indifference has taken up
+his tankard. "Count or Conte, as you please," he said, giving the
+disputed point the go-by, and continuing as he put his beer glass down
+on an uninviting little brown table, "at all events he must be
+accustomed to live in fine style, for he declared that it was
+impossible for a man used to modern conveniences to live in Schneeburg
+in the condition in which Count Malzin had occupied it. So the house
+has been entirely newly furnished. Immense! the doings of these
+money-giants--the world belongs to them!"
+
+"Unfortunately, and our poor nobles must go to the wall," sighed the
+old doctor, whose platonic love for the nobility keeps pace with the
+red-haired man's equally platonic affection for money. "Except a couple
+of owners of entailed estates here and there none of them will be able
+to compete with these great financiers."
+
+"The law of entail cannot be allowed to exist much longer, it is a
+stumbling block in the path of national progress .... My uncle in the
+ministerial department ...." Eugene Alexander began in a deep bass
+voice, which suggested a sentimentally guttural rendering of 'The
+Evening Star' at æsthetic tea-parties.
+
+"Spare me the remarks of your uncle in the ministerial department,"
+interrupted Dr. Swoboda angrily.
+
+"The law of entail must be abolished," Herr Cibulka said, as another
+man might say, "that new street must be opened."
+
+"Have you got your liberal seven-league boots on again?" Swoboda
+rejoined. "How you stride off into the future! You evidently suppose
+that if the law of entail were abolished to-day or to-morrow, this
+'stumbling-block in the path of national progress' being removed,
+various districts of Tornow and Rautschin would find their way into the
+pockets of yourself and of your hypothetical children? You are
+mistaken, my dear fellow, hugely mistaken. Heaven forbid! Trade would
+monopolize the real estate, and that is all you would get by it,
+nothing more. The supremacy of money would be confirmed."
+
+"I should prefer, it is true, the supremacy of mind!" Eugène Alexander
+said didactically.
+
+"Ah! you think you would come in for a share there," growled the old
+doctor under his breath.
+
+Without noticing the irony, Eugene Alexander went on, "The supremacy of
+money, of individual merit, is certainly more to be desired than the
+supremacy of fossilized prejudice."
+
+"Indeed?... now tell us honestly," said the doctor, "do you really
+believe that the masses, whose sufferings are real and not imaginary,
+would gain anything thereby?"
+
+"There certainly would be a fresh impetus given to culture,--a freer
+circulation of capital," began Cibulka.
+
+"Listen to me a moment," broke in the doctor. "Circulation of capital?
+A financier's capital circulates inside his pockets, not outside of
+them except on certain occasions on 'Change. The art of spending money
+does not go hand-in-hand with the art of making it,--few things in this
+world delight me more than the spectacle of a millionaire who, having
+ostentatiously retired from business, contemplates his money-bags in
+positive despair, not knowing what to do with them and bored to
+death because the only occupation in which he takes any delight,
+money-getting, is debarred him by his position."
+
+"No one can say of Conte Capriani that he does not know how to spend
+his money," the red-headed 'Daily News' affirmed, "everything is being
+arranged in the most expensive style, the rooms hung with silk shot
+with silver, the carpets as thick as your fist, and the paintings and
+artistic objects,--why they are coming by car-loads. I am intimate with
+the castellan, and he shows me everything; the outlay is princely."
+
+The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "The extravagance of a financier is
+always for show, it is never a natural expenditure. There's no free
+swing to it, and I am not at all impressed by your Conte; one day he
+may take it into his head to paper his room with thousand-gulden
+bank-notes, and the next he will haggle like the veriest skinflint;
+just ask the Malzin servants; he discharged them at a moment's notice
+without a penny."
+
+"They were a worthless old lot," Eugène Alexander rejoined, "and
+besides it was Count Malzin's duty to provide for his people."
+
+"Poor Count Malzin!" exclaimed the doctor, "he pleaded for his
+servants, as I know positively; but provide for them--how could he
+provide for them when he could not provide for his own son! When I
+think of our poor Count Fritz! A handsomer, sweeter-tempered, kindlier
+gentleman never lived in the world! And when I reflect that Schneeburg
+is now in the hands of strangers, that Count Fritz cannot live
+there....!"
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon," the red-head insisted, wriggling on his chair
+like an eel, "he is going to live there, in the little Swiss cottage in
+the park where the young people used to be with their tutor and
+drawing-master in the hunting season, away from the bustle in the
+castle."
+
+"Frightful!" murmured the doctor. "This whole Schneeburg business is
+too--too sad. The old bailiff is ill of typhus fever brought on by
+sheer grief and anxiety, and his whole family would go to destruction
+were it not for the generous support of the Countess Lodrin."
+
+"Don't tell us of the generosity of the Countess Lodrin," sneered
+Cibulka, or of the generosity of any of the Lodrins. "You need only look
+at their estates; the peasants are huddled there in pens like swine."
+
+The stranger, who had until now remained motionless in his dim corner,
+apparently paying no heed to the talk, here turned his head to listen.
+
+"That seems very improbable," Dr. Swoboda replied to the last
+assertion, "The young count treats all his dependants with a kindly
+consideration that it would be difficult to match. If his people suffer
+from any injustice it certainly is without his knowledge; Count Oswald
+is one of the old school. Hats off to so true a gentleman!"
+
+"You are, and always will be a truckler to princes," said Eugène
+Alexander, offended. "I must say that a man like Capriani who has won
+for himself a position in society among the greatest by his personal
+merit, by the work of his hands, seems to me more worthy of
+consideration than a petty Count, who has had everything showered upon
+him from his cradle."
+
+"What trash you are talking about personal merit," thundered the
+doctor. "Capriani has grown rich on swindling--swindling, on
+'Change--swindling in women's boudoirs. He was formerly a physician,
+and as such insinuated himself into distinguished houses, and wormed
+out political secrets which he made use of in his speculations. Finally
+he married a rich banker's daughter; they say his wife is a good woman.
+I never saw him but once, but I cannot understand how a woman with a
+modicum of taste could ever consent...."
+
+"Oh they say that in his time he has enjoyed the favour of all kinds of
+ladies, very great ladies...." the red-head interposed with an air
+of importance. "I know from the widow of the late Count Lodrin's
+valet--there was a game carried on down there in Italy between the
+Countess Wjera...."
+
+He had no time to conclude. The stranger sprang up and like a
+flash of lightning struck the speaker twice across the face with his
+riding-whip; then without a word he left the room.
+
+"Who was that?" asked Cibulka pale with terror, while the red-headed
+man, bewildered, rubbed his cheek.
+
+"Count Oswald Lodrin," said the doctor. "It serves you right for your
+insolence!"
+
+"I shall not submit to such brutality--I will appeal to the courts,"
+snarled red-head.
+
+"And what can you say?" said the old doctor. "'I have wantonly repeated
+low, scandalous gossip--I have slandered a lady who is blessed and
+worshipped by all the country round, I have spit in the face of a
+saint'--this is what you can say. Let me advise you not to stir, my
+worthy Wostraschil."
+
+This 'my worthy Wostraschil' was uttered by the simple old doctor in a
+tone which he must have caught unconsciously and involuntarily from
+some aristocratic patient.
+
+He arose and stood at the window, looking with a smile of satisfaction
+after Oswald, who with head held haughtily erect, face pale, and eyes
+flashing angrily, was striding directly across the square to the
+smithy.
+
+"A splendid fellow--a true gentleman," the old man murmured. He was
+proud of this Austrian, product, and would gladly have paid a tax for
+the maintenance of this national article of luxury.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Arrived in Tornow only that morning, Oswald hardly finished his
+breakfast before he rode over to Kanitz, where, after his good-humoured
+despotic fashion he adjusted the whole affair with a smile, and soothed
+the anxious young tenant.
+
+On the way back his horse lost a shoe, and his groom was well scolded
+by his impetuous young master for the carelessness resulting in such an
+accident. The riders had been forced to abate their speed and to take a
+roundabout way through Rautschin, that the nervous, high-bred animal
+might be relieved as soon as possible.
+
+On the way they were overtaken by the storm. Perhaps Oswald would not
+have endured the very smoky atmosphere of the inn room so long, had he
+not been unconsciously interested in the talk of its three guests.
+
+By no means indifferent to Doctor Swoboda's enthusiastic appreciation
+of his merits, he had enjoyed playing the part of the Emperor Joseph in
+the popular song and was meditating some pleasantly-devised way of
+surprising the old man with his thanks for his loyalty, when the vile
+insinuation made by the red-head drove everything else out of his mind.
+
+The horse was shod; he flung himself into the saddle and galloped out
+of the town.
+
+The rain had ceased, the clouds were broken. Steaming with moisture,
+its outlines glimmering in the light of the setting sun, Rautschin was
+left behind. Long streaks of violet cloud with golden edges, lay just
+above the horizon, and where the sun was setting, the sky glowed dully
+red. The storm had torn the bridal wreath from the head of spring; on
+the surface of the water lying in the ruts and hollows of the roads
+glinted snowy, fallen blossoms, and the apple-trees and pear-trees
+trembled softly in their tattered white array, like young people
+awakened from a dream. By the roadside stretched a sheet of water, its
+shores bristling with rushes, its surface bluish-gray and gloomy, like
+a large pool into which the sky had fallen and been drowned. A couple
+of ravens were flapping heavily above it.
+
+The golden edges of the clouds grew narrower, the glow of the sunset
+was consumed in its own fire, the colours faded, and profound
+melancholy brooded over all the plain.
+
+Oswald's blood was still in a ferment. "Rascally dog!" he muttered
+between his teeth ...."and to have to drop the matter for my mother's
+sake, not to be able to thrash him within an inch of his life, and
+drive him from the country! No human being is safe from such envious
+liars, they would drag down everything above them, even the Lord God
+Himself! Bah, _cela ne devrait pas monter jusque à la hauteur de mon
+dèdain_. But,"--he shook himself,--"it takes more than one's will to
+calm the blood."
+
+Twilight had set in when he reached Tornow Castle.
+
+It was a spacious, clumsy structure with several court-yards, one
+portion with pointed Gothic archways was ancient, irregular and
+picturesque, another part was of a later rococo style with conventional
+decoration. In front, fringed by tall alders lay a romantic little
+lake, the park stretched far to the rear of the castle. The iron gate
+with its quaint scroll work, above which was suspended the Lodrin
+escutcheon, between two time-stained sandstone urns, turned upon its
+rusty hinges, and Oswald rode up to the castle and dismounted. Two
+lackeys, who seemed to have little to do save to wear their blue
+liveries and striped waistcoats with due dignity, and self-complacency,
+were standing in the gateway, peering into the gathering darkness. The
+young Count ran hastily up the broad, flat hall-steps.
+
+The last pale ray of daylight penetrated into the hall, through the
+tiny panes of the huge windows; here and there the metallic lustre of
+some old weapon on the wall gleamed among the dusky shadows.
+
+"Ossi, is that you?" called a voice almost masculine in its deep tone,
+but musical withal and in evident anxiety, as a tall female figure
+advanced to meet him.
+
+"Yes, mother," he replied gently.
+
+"How late you are! We have been waiting dinner an hour for you."
+
+"Forgive me, mother,"--he carried her hand with reverent affection to
+his lips,--"it really was not my fault."
+
+"Fault--fault! I am not reproaching you, Ossi! No, but my child, I was
+half dead with anxiety. You are always so punctual, and one quarter of
+an hour after another passed and you did not come.--And then the storm.
+The lightning struck near here in several places, and your John Bull is
+skittish,--you do not think so,--but I know the beast well. If it had
+gone on for one more quarter of an hour .... but what detained you, my
+child?"
+
+Oswald smiled tenderly and considerately, as tall chivalric sons are
+wont to smile at the exaggerated anxieties of their mothers. "Give me
+only five minutes to change my dress and I will tell you all," he said,
+and once more kissing her hand he hurried away.
+
+Oswald's was one of those impetuous temperaments which are always
+stirred to the depths morally and physically by a violent outburst of
+anger; even when its cause is forgotten every pulse and vein will still
+thrill.
+
+Although he joined his mother in the drawing-room some minutes later in
+a perfectly cheerful mood, she instantly saw from his face that
+something must have provoked him excessively.
+
+"Anything disagreeable?" she asked drawing him down beside her upon a
+sofa, "did you have a distressing scene with Schmitt? did he reproach
+you? or ...."
+
+"Heaven forbid, mamma!" broke in Oswald. "Schmitt and reproach?--he is
+the most devoted soul--humiliatingly devoted and faithful! Poor
+Schmitt! No, no, my horse cast a shoe. I was terribly vexed, I had to
+ride slowly, and take the roundabout way through Rautschin." He spoke
+quickly and with forced gayety.
+
+"You are concealing something, lest it should annoy me," the countess
+said decidedly. "When will you learn that nothing in the world annoys
+me as much as your considerate reticence! I lie awake half the night
+when I see that you have some vexation to bear which you will not share
+with me. You ought to have no secrets from me."
+
+"In a certain way every honourable man must have secrets from her whom
+he respects as I respect you," Oswald said half-annoyed, half-tenderly,
+while he puzzled his brains to discover a way of pacifying his mother
+without telling either a falsehood or the whole truth. A brilliant idea
+then occurred to him. "In fact the matter is a very stupid affair. In
+the inn where I stopped during the storm I suddenly heard one of three
+men who were in the room speak with contempt of the Lodrin generosity;
+the fellow asserted that on the Lodrin estates the labourers lived in
+pens like pigs, and,--er--my temperament is not exactly stoical, and
+I,--in short I got angry. It is hard to hear such things when one
+honestly tries to treat his people well! And there may be some truth in
+it; I will make inquiries to-morrow, no, I will find out for myself. I
+can learn nothing from my bailiffs, they only cajole me. Last year
+there was typhus fever in Morowitz, the people died like flies, and I
+knew nothing of it; when at last I did learn about it I went there
+immediately, but the epidemic was well nigh at an end. _A propos_,
+mamma, I cannot but forgive you if it be so, but was it not all
+concealed from me at your request? You knew that I should go over there
+at once, and you were afraid of contagion."
+
+"No, my dear child," the countess said gravely, "foolishly anxious as I
+am about you upon trifling occasions,--and I have just shown how
+foolishly anxious I can be,--I never would lift a finger to seclude you
+from a peril if such peril lay in the path of duty. I would rather die
+of anxiety than hamper you or exert a detracting influence upon you in
+your line of conduct. I would be broken on the wheel to save your life,
+but----" she shuddered and moved closer to him,--"I would rather see
+you dead, than anything else save what you are--my pride, and a
+blessing to all around you!" She looked him full in the face, the
+mother's large, earnest eyes gleaming with exultant enthusiasm. "If you
+only knew how I suffered during that stupid storm! I am so glad to have
+you again, my boy, my fine, noble boy!" And drawing his head down to
+her she kissed him on the brow.
+
+The rustle of a newspaper attracted Oswald's attention, and for the
+first time he observed Georges, who, buried in the depths of a
+luxurious arm-chair, had been watching from behind his newspaper the
+little scene between mother and son.
+
+A servant appeared at the door--dinner was announced.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X.
+
+
+"Very remarkable!" Georges said a few hours later as, smoking a cigar,
+he entered his cousin's bedroom, where Oswald was already in bed.
+
+"What is very remarkable?" Oswald asked drowsily as he lay on his back,
+his hands clasped under his head.
+
+"The change in your mother," said Georges, sitting down on the edge of
+the bed, "I should hardly have known her again."
+
+"I can't understand that," Oswald rejoined. "Her hair has grown
+gray--it grew gray when she was quite young,--but her features are the
+same. I think her very beautiful still."
+
+"I think her more beautiful than ever," Georges said gravely, "but...."
+he thoughtfully blew the smoke from his cigar upwards to the
+ceiling--"how old is your mother?"
+
+"Fifty-six."
+
+"Only fifty-six--and yet she seems an old woman."
+
+"An old woman....! What are you thinking of? My mother can do nearly as
+much as I can, she can ride for five hours at a time, and can take long
+walks and never...."
+
+"My dear fellow," interrupted Georges impatiently. "I did not mean to
+say that your respected mamma seemed at all decrepit, but only that her
+features, her whole bearing, wear the stamp of that calm, kindly
+cheerfulness that belongs to those who have done with life. She asks
+nothing more--she bestows. And that, Ossi, is not a characteristic of
+youth--no, not of even, the most generous youth."
+
+"There you are right," Oswald rejoined thoughtfully. "Many a woman of
+her age would still go into society and enjoy its distractions, she,
+since my father's death, has had no thought of anything except my
+education and the management of my property. It is wonderful, the
+knowledge she has of business. You would laugh if I should tell you of
+what large sums she saved up for me during my minority. Such strict
+economy was not to my taste, and I put a stop to it, but it must be
+forgiven in a mother."
+
+"And the gentleness and kindness of her manner!" Georges continued,
+"her unreasoning maternal nervousness! I assure you it was no easy
+task, the hour spent in trying to allay her anxiety. Her feeling for
+you is positive idolatry."
+
+"Try to be patient with this weakness of hers."
+
+"My dear boy, he would be a worthless fellow who did not respect this
+weakness. It only surprises me in your mother; I had not expected
+anything of the kind. Before I left home she kept you at such a
+distance. I could not then understand why she always treated you so
+coldly and harshly, and, to tell the truth, I took such, lack of
+affection on her part, very ill."
+
+Oswald leaned upon his elbow among the pillows. "That was while my
+father was alive," he said softly, "yes, I have often thought of that,
+and have thought also that I could explain her conduct. You see my
+father's foolish fondness for me irritated her, and she suppressed the
+manifestation of her own affection. Between ourselves, Georges, my
+mother was wretched in her marriage; her poor heart was always upon the
+rack, it could no more beat freely and naturally than a man with a rope
+tight about his neck can sing. I respected my father immensely,
+but ... well, Georges, look there...." he pointed to a large painting
+above his bed, the portrait of the countess in the proud splendour of
+her youthful beauty, "and then, look there...." and he pointed to a
+white plaster death-mask framed in black velvet hanging on the wall
+opposite. "As far back as I can remember, my father looked just like
+that; they were never congenial. And now let me go to sleep, old fellow,
+good-night!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+No, 'congenial' they never had been and never could have been.
+
+Although the painting was far from portraying the charm of the Countess
+Lodrin's beauty in the bloom of youth, the repulsive death-mask
+opposite did full justice to the deceased count. The face that it
+represented was almost horse-like in its length; smoothly shaven as
+that of a monk, with a sharp-pointed nose, little round eyes, a mouth
+like the slit in a child's money-jug, and seamed with innumerable
+wrinkles, it resembled one of those bloodless aged heads which abound
+in pictures by Memmling or Van Eyck.
+
+It would be an error to suppose that illness and the final agony had
+distorted the face before it had been perpetuated in the plaster cast.
+Count Lodrin had never looked otherwise, he had always looked like a
+corpse, and Pistasch Kamenz boldly maintained that 'the old gentleman
+looked his best in his coffin.'
+
+Not only Count Pistasch, but everybody else ridiculed Count Lodrin; few
+men have ever lived who have been more ridiculed. One fact, however, no
+ridicule could affect--Count Lodrin was a gentleman through and
+through.
+
+That he possessed a tender heart and a sense of duty, which, in spite
+of the vacillations of a timid temperament, always triumphed in
+important crises, no one had ever denied who had seen him in any grave
+emergency,--and that this sense of duty, with a mild admixture of pride
+of rank, belonged to him more as a gentleman than as a human being, did
+not detract from his merit.
+
+Given over in his youth to the ghostly influence of priestly tutors, he
+had led a melancholy, misanthropic existence. His delicate constitution
+made impossible any participation in the manly sports of his equals in
+rank. Therefore there was developed in him, as in many another recluse,
+an intense devotion to art; he was indefatigable in sifting and
+enlarging his collections.
+
+People of his rank usually marry young. It was not so with him. As with
+several historic characters, the timidity of his temperament culminated
+in an aversion to women, which rendered futile all the bold schemes of
+ambitious mammas. In his solitude he had come to be forty-five years
+old; it was an article of faith in Austrian society that he never would
+marry, when suddenly his betrothal to Wjera Zinsenburg was announced.
+
+His brother's creditors made wry faces; society laughed. Two months
+afterwards the strange couple were united in the chapel of the palace
+of the Zinsenburgs. Among those present at the ceremony there were some
+who envied the bridegroom, many who ridiculed him, and a few who pitied
+him.
+
+As the pair stood beside each other before the altar they presented a
+strange contrast.
+
+The face of the bride, nobly chiselled, and with an indignant curve of
+the full, red lips, recalled to the minds of all who had been in Rome a
+beautiful but unpleasing memory,--the profile of the Medusa in the
+Villa Ludovisi, that wondrous relievo in which the pride of a demon
+seems contending with the suffering of an angel.
+
+The bridegroom looked as he did fifteen years afterward on his bier,
+only more unhappy, for upon the bier his face wore the expression of a
+man who had just been relieved of an old burden; at the altar his
+expression was that of one who bends beneath the weight of a burden
+just assumed.
+
+It was shortly manifest that no late-awakened passion had decided him
+to contract this alliance. A weaker will had been forced to bow before
+a stronger.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+But what had induced the exquisitely-beautiful girl to choose such a
+husband as this, every one asked; and no one answered. The question had
+to be dismissed with a shrug, and, 'She is a riddle!'
+
+The same thing had been said four years previously, when with an air of
+proud indifference, and with cold, 'level-fronting eyelids,' she had
+appeared in Vienna society. There was about her an exotic air always
+irresistible to the genuine Austrian temperament. Her father was a
+diplomatist, her mother a Russian. Wjera's Russian blood betrayed
+itself in everything about her, in her deep, almost harsh voice, which
+was, nevertheless, capable of exquisite modulations, in the hybrid
+combination of Oriental nonchalance and northern energy that
+characterized her whole bearing, her gestures, her figure.
+
+When she reclined upon a divan or leaned back in an arm-chair there was
+a suggestion of the odalisque in her attitude; but in her walk there
+was a short, sharp rhythm; it was firm and despotic like that of a
+race-horse, and yet light as the fluttering of a bird. She was tall and
+not too slender--the beauty of her shoulders and bust was so great that
+it had become famous--her head was small and faultlessly poised upon
+her neck--her features were not perfectly regular, but how charming was
+her face! pale, with ripe red lips, and brown hair with a shimmer of
+gold about the temples and the back of the neck. The cheek-bones were
+rather too high, the face not quite oval enough; the brow was low; the
+profile haughty, and delicately modelled.
+
+The most remarkable feature of Wjera's face was her eyes. Long in their
+openings, but usually half-closed and shaded by dark eyelashes, they
+were as changing in colour as in expression, and there was in them
+something uncanny--mysterious--no one dared to look full into their
+depths.
+
+Of course she created a sensation in Vienna, and yet she had almost no
+suitors--they were afraid of her and--she had a history, neither
+disgraceful nor dishonourable, but yet a history.
+
+In St. Petersburg, where she had been with her father, she had been
+distinguished by the homage of a prince of the blood, and was finally
+betrothed to him. For a year the betrothal was kept up, and then the
+tie was suddenly snapped. The world discovered the reason in the fact
+that Wjera could not consent to a morganatic marriage; her ambition had
+been defeated. The true significance of the breach the world at large
+did not divine. Only very few suspected that Wjera had loved the
+man--so much her inferior in all save rank and birth--with all the
+fervour and poetic purity that are found in Russian girls alone. She
+did not see him as he really was, handsome, with a superficial air of
+distinction, but mentally coarse--alternating between brutish excesses
+and superstitious penances--at once cynical as a roué and sentimental
+as a school-miss,--no, she endowed him nobly in her imagination.
+
+Of all poets in the world the hearts of young girls are the most highly
+gifted. There are women whose illusions are so tough that they carry
+them to their graves undamaged; there are others who voluntarily patch
+up the rents, made by their understanding in their illusions, in order
+that an ideal--of which they would perhaps be ashamed if it stood
+unveiled before them, and to break with which they yet have neither the
+desire nor the force--may not be without a decent garment to cover it.
+
+It was not so with Wjera; when doubt had once sown discord between her
+head and her heart, she fought out the battle unflinchingly,
+inexorably, in strict honesty, and when the conflict was over her dream
+had vanished. In this wondrously lovely illusion she had exhausted all
+the ideality of her nature. Her reason gained the upperhand at last,
+and ever after she analyzed her fellow-mortals with sharp precision;
+judging them with harsh justice, and speaking of the affections with an
+unaffected, contemptuous coolness very rare in a girl so young.
+
+Time passed by. She came to be twenty-six years old. She was the eldest
+and the handsomest of five daughters, and her distaste for marriage
+increased the difficulty of providing for the other sisters, and
+excited unpleasant remark among her family circle. Chance introduced
+Count Lodrin to her acquaintance, and perhaps because he seemed to her
+a respectable nullity, she selected him for her husband.
+
+No one could remember ever having seen so ill-matched a pair. She,
+aglow with life, delighting in physical exercises, a reckless and
+indefatigable horsewoman--to whom a steeple-chase was no more than is a
+waltz to other women,--and he, paying with an attack of illness for
+every unusual physical effort, not even daring to take a long drive
+without an extra cushion at his back.
+
+Whilst his thoughts moved slowly in a traditional roundabout way, 'her
+woman's wit flew straight and did exactly hit,' before the Count had
+cleared his throat for his first 'consequently.'
+
+Her quick wit bewildered him; her outspoken acuteness of discernment
+offended him. There was a world-wide dissimilarity between her views
+and his. The Count was a strict Catholic; the Countess was inclined to
+scepticism; although cast in a loftier mould, in her daring mockery and
+her graceful eccentricity she recalled the fine ladies of the
+eighteenth century--of that time when social and mental freedom, made
+fashionable by philosophers, had not yet been degraded to vulgarity by
+demagogues. His wife's wicked wit shocked poor Count Lodrin. Much
+ridicule was cast upon the couple, but every one was none the less glad
+to belong to the brilliant circle which the Countess drew around her,
+and daily the wonder grew that calumny could not touch the beautiful
+wife of this dead-and-alive dotard.
+
+Three years passed; now and then women hinted innuendoes about Wjera
+Lodrin, but the other sex continued to speak of her with that mixture
+of admiration and irritation which bears the truest testimony to the
+blamelessness of a very beautiful woman. At last society was content to
+shrug its shoulders and to repeat, 'She is a riddle.'
+
+The Countess was unutterably bored. The only occupation that she
+pursued with inexhaustible interest, though at the same time with
+reckless intrepidity, was riding.
+
+"She has no sphere of activity; hers is the grand, fiery nature of a
+gifted man beating against the petty barriers of feminine existence.
+What is to come of it?" a sagacious student of human nature once said,
+in speaking of her.
+
+All at once there was a decided change for the worse in Count Lodrin's
+health, and the physicians prescribed a sojourn in the South.
+Reluctantly enough the Countess consented to accompany her husband.
+
+They set out, and the world maliciously compared Wjera to Juana of
+Castile, because she travelled with a corpse, and a father-confessor.
+
+The Count found Nice quite too gay, and therefore took refuge in a
+secluded villa in the Riviera.
+
+The Countess nearly died of ennui in the gray, sultry, sirocco-like
+monotony of an autumn heavy with the fragrance of roses, and in the
+tedium of an Italian winter. In spring the pair returned to Bohemia,
+the Count in somewhat better health, the Countess as cold and hard as
+ever, but irritable to a degree until now quite foreign to her.
+
+In the August after their return Oswald was born. The old Count could
+not contain himself for joy; the Countess cared but very little for the
+child.
+
+This was the woman whom Georges had known fifteen years before, and
+now,--he could hardly believe his senses!
+
+Before he went to bed on the first night of his return to Tornow, he
+stood for a long while at the window of his room looking thoughtfully
+out into the night. The moon was high in the heavens; everything was
+still, save for a low rustle now and then in the huge lindens growing
+on the border of the pond in front of the castle. The ancient trees
+seemed to stir and stretch themselves in their sleep. His gaze wandered
+over the compact angular architecture of the high, black-gabled roofs,
+the rows of houses with tiny windows, in the little town,--all bathed
+in bluish moonlight. It was hardly changed since he had last seen
+it,--in the castle everything was changed. What had become of the
+social distractions in which the Countess Lodrin had been wont to
+delight?--Vanished, as by magic. The entire castle impressed him as
+having recovered from a restless fever.
+
+Had the Countess's former cold, harsh demeanour been but the mask for
+the intense hunger of a strangely dowered nature that could find no fit
+nourishment? And had love for her child filled up at last the fearful
+rift made in her inmost life by an early disappointment?
+
+Georges asked himself these questions. Once more his glance wandered to
+the pond in whose waters the moon was mirrored. "Strange!" he
+murmured,--"today it was but a dark pool, and now in the moonlight it
+gleams a silver disk! Hm! Extraordinary, how true maternal love will
+hallow every woman's heart! Strange exceedingly! what must she not have
+suffered in her life ...!"
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+The bright spring sunshine streamed through the open bow-window of the
+Countess's boudoir and stretched a broad band of light at her feet. She
+was sitting in an arm-chair knitting with very thick wooden needles and
+coarse brown worsted, something evidently destined for a charitable
+purpose.
+
+The boudoir, an irregular square room and with a picturesque
+bow-window, was furnished with no regard to uniformity of style, and
+therefore had the charm which characterizes rooms which have been as it
+were gradually evolved from the habits and tastes of a cultured
+occupant, until they are the frame or setting of an individuality. A
+delightful confusion of comfort and feminine taste reigned here, and
+the two or three trifling articles that offended all artistic sense,
+struck the eye only as piquant beauty spots. The cabinets, filled with
+rare old porcelain, threw into strong relief the ugly inkstand and
+candlesticks of modern dark-blue Sèvres upon a writing-table. They
+were a memento,--a marriage gift from a Russian cousin and youthful
+playmate who fell in the Crimean war. Among some old pictures, an
+Andrea del Sarto, a Franz Hals, and two Wateaus, hung in triumphant
+self-complacency a portrait by Lawrence--a man's head and bust,--a
+crimson-lined cloak was thrown around the shoulders, the shirt collar
+was open, black hair fell low on the brow, the eyes were large and
+wild, the frankly smiling mouth was exquisitely chiselled. It hung just
+over the writing-table, lord of all, and was the portrait of Oswald
+Zinsenburg, an uncle of the Countess, a gifted fellow, who, when
+Secretary of Legation in England, had been intimate with Lord Byron,
+and in all the romantic ardour of a young aristocrat fighting for
+freedom, had died of brain fever at Missolonghi at the age of
+twenty-seven, shortly after Lord Byron's death.
+
+This portrait the Countess Wjera loves, principally because it is so
+like her son, and upon it her gaze rested as she dropped the long
+wooden-needles in her lap, and fell into a revery.
+
+The air of the room was penetrated with the delicious fragrance of the
+roses, and lilies of the valley that filled the various vases.
+Everything was quiet,--the birds were taking their siesta, the faint
+pattering of the horse-chestnut blossoms could be heard as they fell
+upon the gravel path, before the castle.
+
+The drowsy midday stillness was suddenly broken by a softly whistled
+Russian gipsy melody and an elastic young footstep. The Countess turned
+her head. She knew the air well--how often she had sung it! The
+whistling came nearer, then ceased, and the door of the boudoir opened.
+"May we come in?" a cheery voice asked.
+
+"Always welcome!" replied the Countess, and Oswald, followed by a large
+shaggy Newfoundland, entered, his curls wet and clinging to his
+forehead, a bunch of waterlilies in his hand, and looking more than
+ever like the portrait by Lawrence.
+
+"Good morning, mamma; how are you? Make your bow, Darling--so, old
+fellow--so!" And as the Newfoundland gravely lowered his fine head, a
+performance for which he was duly caressed by his master, Oswald sank
+into a low seat beside his mother.
+
+"You have been bathing," she observed, stroking back his wet hair.
+
+"Yes, I have been swimming in the lake at Wolnitz, and I have brought
+you these waterlilies," he replied, laying the flowers in her lap,
+"they are the first I have seen this year, and they are your favourite
+flowers, are they not? How fair and melancholy they are! Strange that
+these pure white things should spring from such slimy mud! May I?"
+taking out his cigar-case.
+
+"Of course, my child. What have you been about to-day? I have not seen
+you before."
+
+"I went out very early. I had sent for the forester to come to me at
+seven, and I went with him to the new plantations. The young firs are
+as straight as soldiers. And then I dawdled about in the woods--it was
+so lovely there!--'tis the earth's honeymoon, and when I see everything
+blossoming out in the sunshine, I think of all that lies in the near
+future for me, and I feel like shouting for joy! Apropos, mamma, I have
+found a site for the Widow's Asylum that you want to found. I have been
+puzzling over the best situation for it, and I have decided to put the
+old Elizabeth monastery at the disposal of your benevolence. Is this
+what you would like?"
+
+She held out her hand to him with a smile. "Have you found time to
+think of that too? I thought you had forgotten my scheme long ago."
+
+"Ah yes, I am in the habit of forgetting your wishes!" he said gaily.
+
+"No, Heaven knows you are not," the Countess murmured, "you have always
+been loving and considerate to me."
+
+"And what else could I be, mamma?" he said affectionately. "Ah, on a
+glorious spring day like this, when the world is so beautiful, and my
+blood goes coursing in my veins with delight, I am tempted to kneel
+down before you and thank you for the dear life you have bestowed upon
+me--what is the matter, mamma, you have suddenly grown so pale?"
+
+"It is nothing--only a slight pain in my heart--it has gone already,"
+the Countess whispered, turning aside her head.
+
+"Quite gone?--is it my cigar smoke?"
+
+"Not at all, dear child!"--
+
+In spite of this assertion he tossed his cigar out of the window. "You
+used to smoke yourself," he observed.
+
+"Yes," she said, looking down at her knitting, "but since I have
+learned to employ my hands, I have given up smoking."
+
+"You knit instead--It seems odd to me to see _you_ knitting. Georges
+thinks you very much altered."
+
+"I have grown old, _voilà!_"
+
+"And he thinks too that you spoil me tremendously, that no mother in
+all Austria spoils her son as you do me."
+
+"No other mother has such a son," the Countess said proudly.
+
+"Oh, oh!" he laughed and took his seat beside her again.
+
+"Nevertheless, I am not blind to your faults," she continued, "I know
+them all."
+
+"And love every one of them."
+
+"Because they are the faults of a noble nature--men of lower tendencies
+are obliged to show more self-control."
+
+"Indeed! God bless your aristocratic prejudices! and now for a piece of
+news. The Truyns reach Rautschin to-morrow by the four o'clock train.
+Will you drive with me to meet them?"
+
+"Certainly, if you wish me to."
+
+"If I wish you to--if I wish you to!"--he softly snapped his fingers,
+"and you look all the while as if I had asked you to attend an
+execution with me. I cannot quite understand you, mamma, you used to
+take delight in every little pleasure that chance threw in my way, and
+now will you not rejoice in my great happiness? As soon as there is any
+allusion made to my betrothal, your whole manner changes; you grow so
+distant and reserved, that I hardly like to mention my betrothed."
+
+"I really did not know, Ossi ..." began the Countess with constraint.
+
+"Oh, yes, mother, I felt in Paris that you were not pleased with my
+betrothal, and I have racked my brain to discover what there can be
+about it that you do not like, and I can not imagine what it is. There
+can be no objection to make to Gabrielle." Then suddenly smiling in the
+midst of his irritation, and curbing the impetuous flow of his words,
+he asked in a lower tone and more calmly, "Ah, _ça_, mamma, perhaps you
+dislike the connection with my darling's stepmother? I assure you
+that ...."
+
+"Nonsense!" replied the Countess, growing still more disturbed, "from
+what you and Georges both tell me of the young woman, she seems to
+adapt herself very well to her position. A residence abroad and foreign
+associations are much better means of training than ...."
+
+"Yes, mamma," interrupted Oswald in some surprise, having followed out
+his own train of thought, "but if you are so kindly disposed towards
+Zinka, I cannot possibly conceive what exception you can take to my
+betrothal. There never was a purer, more noble creature than my little
+Gabrielle. Highly as I rank you, mother, she is every way worthy of
+you."
+
+The Countess changed colour, "I do not understand what you wish," she
+exclaimed, "do not distress me, I have no objection to the girl!...."
+
+"Well then,--you could not possibly expect me to remain unmarried."
+
+The Countess cast down her eyes and was silent.
+
+Oswald sprang up, called his dog and left the room, his face very pale,
+his eyes very dark.
+
+Impetuous and hasty as he was with others, he had always controlled
+himself in his mother's presence. Leaving the room was the extreme
+point to which he allowed his displeasure to manifest itself when with
+her. If he wished to vent his anger, he did it in seclusion, he never
+had spoken an angry word--scarcely a loud one to her. And his
+disagreeable mood never lasted long.
+
+"I am myself again, mamma!" with these words, in which he was wont to
+announce his return to a better frame of mind, he presented himself
+half an hour afterward in his mother's boudoir. She was sitting just as
+he had left her, the waterlilies in her lap, very pale, very erect,
+with the set features that veil distress of mind.
+
+Pushing his chair close up to her he laid his hand upon her shoulder,
+and said with the winning tenderness of all impetuous men after bursts
+of anger: "Forgive me, mamma, I was very wrong again!" She smiled
+faintly and murmured some half inaudible words of affection--"I was
+odiously egotistical," he went on, "I had quite forgotten what a change
+my marriage will make in your life, what a trial it must be to you, you
+poor, foolish, jealous little mother! But whatever change there may be
+outwardly in our relations, we must always be the same in heart; and if
+I must deprive you of something," he added gaily, "my children shall
+requite you. It had to come sooner or later, mamma; or could you really
+wish me to renounce the fairest share of existence?"
+
+She trembled in every limb, and suddenly taking his hand, before he
+could prevent it, she carried it to her lips, "No, you shall renounce
+no joy, my child, my noble child!" she exclaimed,--"but--leave me now
+for a while, for only a little while--I am tired!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+Truyn had insisted that the betrothal of his daughter to Oswald Lodrin
+should be celebrated in Bohemia. Zinka had yielded with great
+reluctance and sorrow, and had at last resolved to bid farewell to her
+dear foreign home.
+
+"Why," she persisted in asking him, "cannot the ceremony take place, as
+in our own case, at the Austrian Embassy?"
+
+But Truyn would not hear of it. "Dear heart," he replied, "it would go
+against the grain. The betrothals of all my sisters and of my aunts
+were celebrated at Rautschin, why should I depart from the traditions
+of my family?"
+
+"As if you had not already departed from them, and in the most vital
+regard," said Zinka, with arch tenderness.
+
+"That is a very different thing,--if there were any good reason,
+then--then--!"
+
+"Ah, dear friend, you have grown insufferably conservative, you would
+have shouted on the first day of the creation of the world: '_Conserves
+le chaos, seigneur Dieu, conservez le chaos!_'"
+
+Whereupon Truyn, kissing her hand, made reply. "That comes of living in
+France, dear child."
+
+And so the pretty house in the Avenue Labédoyère was deserted. The
+shutters were closed, the carpets rolled up, the bric-à-brac stowed
+away; only in some roundabout fashion did a bluish beam of light slip
+into the vault-like obscurity, and the restless motes pursue their
+fantastic dance among the shrouded shapes of the furniture.
+
+The Truyn family were rapidly approaching their home. Nearly thirty
+hours had passed since Paris had faded from their eyes in the misty
+blue distance--since the last gigantic announcement of the '_Belle
+Jardinière_,' and of the '_Pauvre diable_' had flitted past them. The
+Bavarian boundary, with its stupid Custom House formalities lay behind
+them. Truyn was reading a Vienna newspaper with great interest,
+Gabrielle was gazing abstractedly at the crimson coupé cushions
+opposite, with the far-away look in her eyes of young lovers. Zinka was
+leaning back in her corner, her veil half drawn aside, her hands folded
+in her lap, the latest impressions of her Paris life hovering
+kaleidiscopically before her mental vision, her heart oppressed by a
+strange melancholy.
+
+"Ah, this defamed, delightful Paris! how it captivates the heart with
+its good-for-nothing beauty, and its corrupt, sickly sentiment!"
+
+She was still mentally rehearsing the last days before her departure,
+the going to and fro from shop to shop, the interesting consultations
+with Monsieur Worth, the affected face with which that eminent artist
+put his finger to his lip, while attending the ladies to their
+carriage, and continued to 'compose' Gabrielle's wedding dress,
+murmuring to himself with his English accent: "_Oui, oui, une
+orginalité distahnguée c'est ce qu'il fant_," while sleek young clerks,
+and young girls faultless in figure, displayed to the best advantage
+the richest costumes, trailing about silks and satins of fabulous
+elegance.
+
+"_Ce n'est pas cela, qui ferait votre affaire, Madame la Comtesse je le
+sais bien_," said Mons. Worth pointing to certain monstrosities devised
+for American parvenus, "ah, Madame la Comtesse cannot imagine, how hard
+it is for an artist to have to work for people of no taste! _Ah oui,
+une originalité distahnguée!_"
+
+The man-milliner's, monotonous refrain kept sounding on in Zinka's
+ears. Then she thought of the farewell visits, the daily heap of cards
+filling the great copper salver in the vestibule, the wearisome
+farewell entertainments, and of her husband's toast--the toast which he
+proposed at the magnificent banquet, given in his honour, by the
+Austrian Hungarians in Paris. Unutterably distasteful as it always is
+to men of his stamp, to be conspicuous, he at last made up his mind to
+propose this toast; he worked at it for an entire week, and subjected
+it to the criticism, not only of his wife and of his daughter, but of
+every one whose judgment he respected in Paris. It was a masterpiece of
+a toast, a toast designed to unite in brotherly affection all the
+Austrians in Paris, and which ultimately, with its well-meant,
+many-sided compliments gave occasion for dissatisfaction to every
+member of the Austrian-Hungarian colony, whether conservative or
+liberal. Zinka laughed to herself as she recalled that poor
+misunderstood toast. She laughed outright, started, and--awoke--rubbed
+her eyes and looked out.
+
+Yes, Paris lay far behind her, very far. She was in Austria, beautiful,
+dreamingly-drowsy Austria, and, in spite of the reluctance with which
+she returned to her fatherland, it affected her.
+
+A low blue chain of hills lay on the western horizon like a vanishing
+storm-cloud. The landscape around was level and extended. Large, quiet
+pools, surrounded by tall rushes, and covered with a network of
+fragrant waterlilies, gleamed here and there among the emerald meadows.
+
+The sun was near its setting. The shadows of the telegraph poles
+stretched out indefinitely. Little towns contentedly sleeping away
+their dull lives among green lindens, showed their old-fashioned
+silhouettes, black against the sunlit evening clouds.
+
+Truyn laid aside his newspaper, and his face grew eager and animated,
+every knotted gnarled willow, every half-ruinous garden wall here
+interested him.
+
+A forest of firs, their trunks glowing red in the last rays of the sun,
+bordered the railway. "There, just by that stunted fir, I shot my first
+deer," Truyn exclaimed, and in his eyes sparkled the memory of a happy
+boyhood; then, drawing Zinka to him, he whispered tenderly: "You are at
+home, Zini; we are travelling upon our own soil."
+
+"Ah," replied Zinka, nestling close to him, timid as a child afraid of
+ghosts.
+
+"How nervous you are!" he said, gently stroking her cheek--"you silly
+little goose you!"
+
+"It is not for myself," she whispered, "so long as you love me, you and
+Ella, I can bear anything. But I know you--it would grieve you to the
+very heart, if ...."
+
+"Tickets, if you please!"
+
+A breathless panting--a shrill whistle.
+
+"Rautschin--five minutes stay!"
+
+"Aunt Wjera!" Gabrielle exclaimed, joyously hurrying out of the coupé.
+
+There was something like defiance in Zinka's heart, but when she saw
+the woman, who in all her exquisite beauty, all the distinguished grace
+of manner inspired by kindness and cordiality, advanced to meet them,
+her defiant mood vanished in admiration, and with a feeling of almost
+childlike reverence, she bowed to the superiority of the elder lady,
+who greeted her most cordially.
+
+After the first excitement of meeting was over, Countess Wjera's
+attention was naturally concentrated upon her son's betrothed.
+
+"I can but congratulate you from my heart, Ossi," she said earnestly,
+looking full into the young girl's eyes--eyes that shone like two blue
+violets under the clearest skies--violets that had suffered nothing
+from late frosts or too ardent sunshine. "You are a favourite of
+fortune, my child."
+
+Gabrielle blushed, and buried her face in the bunch of white roses,
+which Oswald had brought her; and Oswald was touched, and smiled his
+thanks to his mother, as he whispered a tender word to his betrothed.
+
+"Do you know who came in the same train with us?" Truyn suddenly asked,
+interrupting the happy moment.
+
+"Capriani, father and son, I saw them," said Oswald, "look at him,
+mamma, there is my rival, the enterprising young spark, who sued for
+Gabrielle's hand. A mad idea, was it not? Gabrielle, and a son of
+Capriani!--we shouted with laughter, when the Melkweyser announced the
+proposal."
+
+The flurry of the arrival had subsided, and the Countess leisurely
+inspected through her eyeglass the sallow young man who was talking
+with Georges Lodrin. Gabrielle said something about his dark blue
+travelling-suit, shot with gold; Zinka made inquiries, all in a breath,
+of her husband, and of the two lady's-maids, whether this or that
+article of luggage had not been left in Paris or in the railway coupé.
+
+When at last all her anxieties on this point had been relieved, and
+they had passed through the station to the carriages, they observed a
+magnificent four-in-hand, the harness decorated with a coronet.
+
+"By Jove!" Truyn exclaimed with delight, "superb, Ossi, superb! I have
+rarely seen four such beauties together!"
+
+"Nor have I," said Oswald, examining the horses critically,
+"unfortunately they are not mine--they belong to Capriani."
+
+"Impossible!" Truyn said disdainfully, "speculator that he is, he may
+bore through the isthmus of Panama, for all I care, but he cannot get
+together such a four-in-hand as that."
+
+"Fritz Malzin selected and arranged it for him," Oswald explained.
+"Poor Fritz!"
+
+"I cannot understand him," Truyn said in an undertone, and hastily
+changing the subject, he asked: "Have you come to terms with Capriani,
+about the Kanitz affair, Ossi? Could not the sale be revoked?"
+
+"The matter would have been very difficult to adjust, I am told--of
+course I understand nothing of such things,--" replied Oswald, "but
+Capriani--what will you say to this, uncle?--yielded the point, 'out of
+special regard' for me, as his lawyer informed Dr. Schindler. Between
+ourselves, it was--what word shall I use?--audacious, for I have never
+spoken to him in my life, and yet I had to accept his uncalled-for
+courtesy, for Schmitt's sake."
+
+"Remarkable, very!" said Truyn, "We usually have to pay dear for the
+courtesies of a Capriani and his kind!"
+
+"Have you everything, Ella?" asked Zinka, "shall we start?"
+
+"I should like to have my hand-bag, Hortense has left it with the large
+luggage."
+
+Meanwhile, with an unpleasant smile and hat in hand, a sallow-faced,
+grey-haired, elderly man, with the look of a bird of prey, approached
+the Countess Wjera, and held out his right hand. "I am immensely
+gratified, your Excellency, after so long a time ....!"
+
+The Countess, her eyes half closed, measured him haughtily. "With whom
+have I the pleasure ...?"
+
+"Conte Capriani."
+
+The Countess silently shrugged her shoulders, and turning half away,
+called in an irritated tone, "Are we ready to go at last, Ossi?...."
+
+A whirling cloud of dust was soon the only trace left of the bustle of
+the arrival.
+
+The short drive was spent by Truyn in reminiscences, by the betrothed
+pair in sentiment.
+
+At the tea, which was awaiting the travellers, and of which the
+Lodrin's stayed to partake, there was much laughter over the _chic_ of
+the Caprianis, over their wealth, and--their obtrusiveness. Oswald
+suddenly grew thoughtful.
+
+"Did you ever before meet these people, mamma?" he asked.
+
+"I never knew any Conte Capriani in my life,--who are these Caprianis?"
+asked the Countess.
+
+"Nobody knows," said Oswald. "Some say he is a Greek, some that he
+comes from Marseilles, and others that he is a Turk."
+
+"They are all wrong," Georges said drily, "he comes originally from
+Bohemia; he was formerly a physician, and his name was Stein."
+
+
+
+
+
+                              BOOK SECOND.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+Rautschin, still Rautschin!--the tiny town lying at the feet of the
+huge castle on the tower of which the clock has stopped for twenty
+years--but no longer in pouring rain with thunder and lightning, but
+Rautschin beneath skies of sapphire blue, upon a hot July afternoon.
+
+The sun was still high in the heavens. The crooked little row of houses
+on one side of the Market Square, cast short, black shadows, the
+national red kerchiefs, with broad borders of gay flowers hanging at
+the door of the principal shop, fluttered gently in the summer breeze.
+A melancholy hubbub of discords, struggling in vain for a solution, was
+heard through the open window of one of the newest and ugliest houses.
+Eugéne Alexander Cibulka, and the wife of the district commissioner,
+were playing Wagner's 'Walküre,' arranged for four hands, and each had
+again 'lost the place.' They regularly lose the place every time a leaf
+is turned, and so the one who gets first to the bottom of the page,
+very kindly waits for the other.
+
+Rautschin Castle stands proudly superior to every structure about it,
+ensconced behind all kinds of farm-buildings and additions, at the
+extreme end of the Market Square, to which it turns its shoulder, as it
+were. Except for its imposing dimensions, it is in no wise remarkable.
+
+Standing at the entrance of a very extensive park, it dates from the
+time of Maria Theresa, when the present clumsy edifice, its prim façade
+defaced by grass-green shutters, was built upon the remains of a feudal
+fortress. The court-yard is not perfectly square, and the arches of the
+arcade rest upon granite pillars. Its interior is quite in accordance
+with its exterior; it is anything but splendid, and has an air of
+empty, dignified distinction.
+
+Before the western side of the Castle, Count Truyn with his young wife
+was sitting beneath the shade of a red and gray striped marquee; behind
+them in a garden-room, the glass doors of which were wide open, Oswald,
+standing on a step-ladder, was busy hanging on the wall a piece of
+gold-embroidered Oriental stuff, and Gabrielle was handing him the
+nails.
+
+"Well Zini, are you beginning to like our home?" said Truyn, propping
+his elbows upon the white garden table, between himself and his wife.
+He looked so contented, so proud of his possessions, so triumphant,
+that Zinka could not refrain from teasing him a little.
+
+"Taken all in all, yes," she said indifferently, "but then taken all in
+all, I should like Siberia, with you and Ella."
+
+"Zinka! I must confess,"--Truyn's face assumed a disturbed and almost
+offended expression, "I must say that I cannot understand how any one
+can compare Rautschin to a place of exile!"
+
+"I did not mean to do so, rest assured," Zinka said, "I think your
+Rautschin very delightful, I should only like to alter a few details."
+
+"I cannot abide improvements," growled Truyn, "it is only the Caprianis
+and Company, who must always be beautifying everything old--that is
+destroying it. I think an old place should be left as it is, with all
+its characteristic defects--to try to improve them, seems to me like
+trying to correct the drawing of a Giotto or a Cimabue."
+
+"I can understand a respect for the old mis-drawings," Zinka rejoined
+quietly, "but does one owe the same respect to modern retouching, to
+the vandalism that has made clumsy additions to an old picture?"
+
+"Hm!" Truyn gazed thoughtfully around him--"no, in fact. It is
+remarkable that you are always right, you little witch. Now be frank
+Zini; what exactly would you like to have different? So far as my
+veneration and my finances permit, you shall have your will."
+
+Zinka pointed to the lawn that lay before them, terribly disfigured by
+bright red and yellow arabesques. "I think that confectioner's
+ornamentation there almost as ugly as the carpet-gardening at the Villa
+Albani," she said, "don't you?"
+
+Truyn ran his hands through his hair, "Well, yes,"--he meekly admitted
+after a pause, "but I cannot possibly alter that. Old Kraus, to
+surprise me, has taken infinite pains to portray our crest on the
+lawn--I had to praise him for his brilliant idea, however hideous I
+thought the thing, don't you see, Zini?"
+
+"That alters the case entirely," Zinka admitted. "I would not hurt
+faithful old Kraus for the world. But"--she pointed to the basin of a
+fountain, the shape of which was particularly ugly--"old Kraus could
+not have designed that basin--that might be cleared away!"
+
+Truyn looked thoroughly discomfited. "The basin is a horror," he
+confessed, "but I cannot help saying a good word for it. It is endeared
+to me by youthful associations--if only because when I was a boy of
+twelve, I was very nearly drowned in it."
+
+"Oh then indeed ...." Zinka shrugged her shoulders, with a humourous air
+of resignation. "I now hardly dare to object to the green shutters,"
+she went on, "for if, as in view of their colour is highly probable, they
+gave you opthalmia, some thirty years ago--it would ...."
+
+"No, no, no, I give up the shutters," exclaimed Truyn laughing, "let
+them go. And now I have something to tell you that you will not
+relish--no need to change colour, the matter is an inconvenience, not a
+trial. While I have been away--for the last ten years in fact--the park
+has been open to the public. The little town has no other public
+garden. I have, indeed, in view of this, placed an extensive tract of
+land at the disposal of the town Council, but it is not yet laid out,
+and until it is, I should not like entirely to deprive the public of
+the freedom of the Park. Therefore I should like to have you point out
+as soon as possible what part you would prefer to have reserved
+entirely for yourself, that it may be portioned off. Indeed I cannot
+help it, Zini."
+
+"You will be as condescending at last as a crowned head," Zinka said
+laughing. "You have already relinquished a corner of the park, because
+the new road, laid out for the convenience of the public, must run
+directly beneath your windows--and ..."
+
+"I know--I know," Truyn interrupted her impatiently, "but one owes
+something to the people. Of course you think 'my husband is a perfect
+simpleton, he'll put up with anything'--but ...."
+
+"Have you really no better idea of what I think of my husband, than
+that?" Zinka asked in a low tone, looking at him with tender raillery
+in her eyes.
+
+"Oh you sweet-natured little woman!" he said, attempting to chuck her
+under the chin.
+
+"What are you about?" she exclaimed, thrusting his hand away, "this
+wall here on the street is so low, that every little ragamuffin can see
+us. And let me tell you that this wall has seemed more odious than
+anything else to-day. Between ourselves--move your chair a little
+nearer, Erich--I have been all this while tormented by a desire to
+throw myself into your arms--you dear, good, whimsical fellow--but the
+wall!"
+
+"Confound the wall!" Truyn exclaimed, angrily clinching his fist.
+
+"Tell me," Zinka asked caressingly, "is the lowness of the wall also a
+question of humanity? Do you find it impossible to deny the townsfolk
+the satisfaction of conveniently observing the castle-folk?"
+
+"Pshaw! I was vexed about the height of the wall ten years ago--that is
+when the road was laid out, but--well, I cannot myself say why it
+is--but unless we have a rage for building, nothing is done. We
+complain for ten years about the same evil, and ..."
+
+"And to part with an evil about which one has complained for ten long
+years," interrupted Zinka laughing, "would be almost as distressing as
+to clear away the basin of a fountain, in which one had been nearly
+drowned, thirty years before, eh, Erich?"
+
+The broad July sunshine lay upon the red and yellow splendour of the
+Truyn escutcheon, shimmered brilliantly about the foremost of the
+mighty trees, whose dark foliage contrasted with the emerald of the
+lawn where they stood, beyond the open, flower-decked portion of the
+park, and penetrated boldly into their thick shades, limning fanciful
+arabesques of light upon the darker green.
+
+From the garden-room floated Gabrielle's sweet, childlike voice, "_Io
+so una giardiniera_," she sang. Oswald had finished his upholstering,
+and was bending over the piano. He combined a sincere enjoyment of
+music with a deplorable preference for sentimental popular ballads.
+
+The creaking of wheels intruded upon the dreamy monotony of the hour.
+Truyn leaned forward and started to his feet. "Ah, old Swoboda, the
+doctor who attended Ella with the measles," he exclaimed joyfully,
+recognising Dr. Swoboda, in his comical little vehicle drawn by a white
+horse spotted with brown. "Is he still alive? I must call him in.
+Holla! Doctor, how are you?"
+
+The doctor started, looked round, and took off his hat with a smile of
+delight, "your servant, Count Truyn."
+
+"Come in and have a chat," said Truyn, "it was hardly fair not to have
+been to see us before."
+
+"But, my dear Count, how could I suppose ..."
+
+A few minutes later, the old doctor was seated opposite to Truyn,
+underneath the marquee, imparting to the Count exact information as to
+the weal and woe of a multitude of people belonging to the town, and to
+the country round, whom the proprietor of Rautschin remembered with
+wonderful distinctness.
+
+Some had died, one or two were insane--a couple were bankrupt.
+
+"Infernal swindling speculations! is my dear old Rautschin beginning to
+be carried away by them?" said Truyn, "certain epidemics cannot be
+arrested. Sad--very sad! And now the _phylloxera_ has taken up its
+abode in Schneeburg."
+
+"Is there much illness about here?" Zinka asked the doctor, in hopes
+perhaps of staving off a conservative outburst from her husband.
+
+"None of any consequence. My business is at a low ebb, your
+Excellency."
+
+"Where have you just been, doctor?" Truyn asked.
+
+"I have just come from Schneeburg."
+
+"Ah? anything seriously amiss in the Capriani household?--I could not
+shed a tear for King Midas."
+
+"The Herr Count cannot suppose that those magnificoes would call in a
+poor country doctor, like myself."
+
+"My dear Swoboda, we all have the greatest confidence in you!" Truyn
+said kindly.
+
+"I thank you heartily, Herr Count, but this confidence is an old
+custom, and the Caprianis consider old customs as mere prejudices, and
+propose to do away with them. I have just come from our poor Count
+Fritz."
+
+"Indeed? are the children ill?"
+
+"No, not ill, but ailing; there is something or other the matter with
+them all the time--they are city children;--however, I am not really
+anxious about them, they'll come all right. But I am sick at heart for
+poor Count Fritz, he is far from well."
+
+"Ah, indeed? what is the matter with him?" Truyn asked in a tone of
+evident irritation.
+
+"His unfortunate circumstances are killing him," the doctor replied
+gloomily.
+
+"Ah--hm,--I must confess to you--er--my dear doctor,
+that--er--I take it very ill of Fritz, that he, er--accepted
+a position,--er--with--that,--er--adventurer."
+
+The old doctor looked the irritated gentleman full in the eyes. "When
+one is homesick and sees his children, who cannot bear the city air,
+hungering for bread, one will do many things, which could not be
+contemplated for an instant, under even slightly improved
+circumstances."
+
+"Ossi always told you ...." began Zinka.
+
+"Oh pshaw! Ossi is an enthusiast, whose heart is always drowning out
+his head."
+
+The old doctor sighed. "Well, I will intrude no longer," he said. He
+had often enough seen his noble patients yawn, as the door was closing
+upon him after a prolonged visit.
+
+"Not at all,--not at all--wait a moment; I must call the children;
+Gabrielle! Ossi!"
+
+The young people appeared from the garden-room.
+
+"Ah--it is the friend who saved my life," Gabrielle exclaimed,
+cordially extending her hand.
+
+Oswald too greeted him kindly, but suddenly he, as well as the old
+physician became slightly embarrassed--each remembered the unpleasant
+scene in the inn.--The conversation did not flow very freely.
+
+"Now, I really must go," the doctor insisted in some confusion.
+
+"Come soon again," said Truyn, shaking hands with him, "give my
+remembrance to Fritz, and--er--tell him to come and see me soon." He
+walked towards the court-yard with the old man, and when he returned he
+observed that Oswald, as he was silently rolling up a cigarette, was
+frowning furiously, evidently angry.
+
+"Where does the shoe pinch, Ossi?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot understand, uncle, how you can be so hard upon Fritz!"
+exclaimed Oswald throwing away his cigarette. "You are wont to be the
+softest-hearted of men, but to that poor devil ...."
+
+"Don't excite yourself so terribly," Truyn said kindly, but in some
+surprise at the young man's violence. How could he divine the
+disturbance of mind that was at the root of his indignation? "You are
+so irritable ...."
+
+"I am perfectly calm," Oswald boldly asserted, "only .... how could you
+send messages to Fritz by the doctor, and ask him to come to you? Have
+you no idea of his miserably sore state of mind?--and physically too he
+is so wretched that he cannot last six months longer; I have begged you
+to go and see him."
+
+"Papa! If Ossi begs you!" Gabrielle whispered, looking up at her father
+with the large pleading eyes of a child.
+
+"Ah, you can't understand how any one can possibly refuse Ossi
+anything," Truyn said, smiling in the midst of his annoyance.
+
+She blushed and cast down her eyes.
+
+"What can you find to like in this fellow, Ella?" her father rallied
+her. "A man ready to take fire, and clinch his fist upon the smallest
+provocation. What would you say if I should put my veto upon this
+foolish betrothal with a young savage who is only half-responsible?"
+
+Gabrielle's blush grew deeper, she looked alternately at her father and
+at her lover, and finally deciding in favour of the latter gently laid
+her hand upon his arm.
+
+"You see, uncle!.... completely routed," exclaimed Oswald, his anger
+entirely dispelled by this little intermezzo. His voice rang with
+exultant happiness as he added, "nothing can part us now, Ella--not
+even a father's veto!"
+
+And Ella clung silently to his arm and looked blissfully content.
+
+"Poor little comrade!" said Truyn tenderly. Mingled with his emotion
+there was something of the pity which men of ripe years and experience
+always feel at the sight of the perfect happiness of young lovers.
+
+"Poor little comrade!--well, to win back some share of your favour I
+will e'en put a good face upon it and comply with the wishes of your
+tyrant."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+"How can a respectable household put up with such a servant!" thought
+Truyn, as he waited in the hall of the little Swiss cottage which stood
+between the park at Schneeburg and the vegetable garden, and had been
+appropriated to the son of the late owner of the soil. A slatternly
+woman with a loose linen wrapper hanging about her stout figure had
+come towards him, and after an affirmative reply to his inquiry if the
+Count were at home, screamed shrilly: "Malzin! Some one to see you!"
+and vanished in the interior of the house.
+
+An unpleasant suspicion assailed Truyn. "Can that be...." The next
+moment all else was forgotten in distress at the changed appearance of
+a fair, pale young man who rushed up to him exclaiming: "Erich!--you
+here!"
+
+"Fritz, Fritz!" said Truyn in a broken voice, fairly clasping his
+unfortunate cousin in his arms.
+
+Of all mortals he who has voluntarily resigned the position in which he
+was born is the most embarrassing to deal with. He has by degrees
+broken with his fellows, and, almost like an outcast, seems scarcely to
+know how to comport himself when accident throws him among his former
+associates; when he meets one of 'his people' he usually alternates
+between intrusive familiarity and embittered reserve.
+
+There was nothing of all this, however, about Fritz. He was so simple
+and cordial, that Truyn felt ashamed of having avoided a meeting.
+
+Fair, with delicate, slightly pinched features, and large melancholy
+gray eyes, exquisitely neat and exact in his apparel, he looked from
+head to foot like a cavalry officer in citizen's dress, and in poor
+circumstances, that is like a man who knew how to invest with a certain
+distinction even the shabbiness to which fate condemned him.
+
+"You cannot imagine what pleasure your visit gives me! When I see one
+of you it really seems almost as if one of my dear ones had descended
+from heaven to press my hand," he said with emotion and Truyn replied:
+
+"I should have come before, but I expected certainly that
+you .... that ...."
+
+"That I ...." Fritz smiled significantly, "no, Erich, you could
+hardly ...."
+
+"Well, well, and how are you? How are you?" said Truyn quickly.
+
+"I still live," Fritz replied, and looked away.
+
+Just then a voice was heard outside inquiring for "Count Malzin."
+
+"I am not at home, Lotti, do you hear, not at home to any body," Malzin
+called into the next room. "Come, Erich!" and he conducted his guest
+out of what answered as a drawing-room into a very shabbily-furnished
+apartment which he called his 'den,' and where Truyn at once felt quite
+at home.
+
+"That was young Capriani," Fritz explained hurriedly, "he probably came
+to talk with me about the burial vault. Perhaps you know that my late
+father had the vault reserved for us in the contract for the sale of
+Schneeburg. Capriani, whom usually nothing escapes, oddly enough
+overlooked the fact that the vault is in the park, and now he wants me
+to sell it to him. Let him try it--the vault he shall not have--it is
+the last spot of home that is left to me. I choose at least to lie in
+the grave with my people! But let us talk of something pleasanter. You
+are all well, are you not?--but there is no need to ask, I can see it
+by looking at you. And I know all about your domestic affairs from
+Ossi."
+
+"He comes to see you often?"
+
+"Yes," said Fritz, "and every time with a fresh scheme for my complete
+relief from all difficulties, which he always unfolds with the same
+fervid enthusiasm. The schemes are impracticable, but never mind!
+Existence always seems more tolerable to me while I am talking with
+him, and when he has gone, it is as if a soft spring shower had just
+passed over, purifying and freshening the air. There really is
+something very remarkable about the fellow. With all his fiery energy,
+he is so unutterably tender; ordinarily when a man situated as I am
+comes in contact with such a favorite of fortune, he inevitably feels
+annoyed--it is like a glare of light for weak eyes. But there is
+nothing of the kind with him--he warms without dazzling,--he
+understands how to stoop to misery, without condescending to it."
+
+"Yes, yes, he has his good qualities," Truyn grumbled, "very good
+qualities. But he has stolen from me my little comrade's heart, and I
+cannot say I am greatly pleased."
+
+"You do not expect me to pity you on the score of your future
+son-in-law?" said Fritz, laughing.
+
+"Not exactly--if I must have one, then ...."
+
+"Then thank God that just these young people have come together," Fritz
+said in that tone of admonition, which even young men, when forsaken of
+fortune, sometimes adopt towards their happier seniors. "Do you know
+what he has done for me--among other things--just a trifle?"
+
+"How should I? He certainly would never tell me."
+
+"Of course not! We had not seen each other for years, but he came to
+see me as soon as he knew that I was at Schneeburg, and asked me if he
+could do anything for me. I thought it kind, but did not take his words
+seriously and so thanked him and assured him he could do nothing. He
+came again, bringing presents for the children with kind messages from
+his mother, and asked me to dinner. When we retired to the smoking-room
+after that dinner he said to me with the embarrassed manner of a
+generous man, about to confer a benefit: 'Fritz, tell me frankly; does
+no old debt annoy you?' Of course, at first I did not want to confess,
+but at last I admitted that a couple of unliquidated accounts did
+trouble me. An unstained name is a luxury that is the hardest of all to
+forego. He arranged everything, and now I am perfectly free from debt.
+He has such a charming way of giving, as if it were the merest pastime.
+I once asked him how a man as happy as he, found so much time to think
+for others? He answered that happiness was like a rose-bush, the more
+blossoms one gives away, the more it flourishes!"
+
+"Yes, yes, he certainly is a fine fellow.--We quarrel sometimes, but he
+is a very fine fellow!" said Truyn, "he suits the child--you must know
+her. And what about your children? Ossi says they are very pretty--you
+have three, have you not?"
+
+"No, only two," Fritz replied, and his voice trembled as he took a
+little photograph from the wall--"only two; my eldest died. Look at
+him--" handing the picture to Truyn, "he was a pretty child, was he
+not?--my poor little Siegi--but too lovely, too good for the life that
+had fallen to his lot. He is better dead--better!" he uttered in the
+hard tone in which the reason asserts what the heart denies.
+
+From the park the vague, dreamy fragrance of the fading white rocket
+was wafted into the room. The light flickered dimly through the leafy
+screen of the apricot tree before the open window that looked out upon
+the vegetable garden. On Fritz's writing-table the old Empire clock,
+wheezing in its struggle for breath, struck five times. Truyn knew the
+old timepiece well, but formerly it used to swing its pendulum as
+merrily on into eternity as if it expected a fresh delight every hour.
+It seemed as if by this time it had almost lost its voice from grief,
+so asthmatic was the sob with which it counted the seconds. And not
+only with the clock, with everything around him Truyn was familiar. The
+entire shabby apartment betrayed a fanatical worship of the past. The
+chairs were the same monstrosities with lyre-shaped backs and crooked
+legs, which had been wont to endure the angry kicks of the little
+Malzins, when their tutor kept them too long at their lessons. Even the
+pattern of the wall-paper, with its apocryphal birds and butterflies
+among impossible wreaths of flowers, was the same which a travelling
+house-painter had pasted up there thirty years before.
+
+But what most struck Truyn, was the decoration on one of the low doors
+in the thick wall--it was marked all over with lines in pencil and
+scribbled names. Upon that door the young Malzins used to record their
+growth from year to year.
+
+"Pipsi, 14," he read, "and something over," "Erich,"--he smiled
+involuntarily, and read on,--"Oscar 12," and then far below in
+uncertain characters looking as if an elder sister had guided the hand
+of a very little child, "Fritzl."
+
+And through Truyn's memory there sounded the crumpling of copy-book
+leaves--of childrens' voices, of Cramer's Exercises, and of sleepily
+recited Latin verbs. Yes, even the peculiar fragrance of lavender and
+fresh linen, formerly exhaled from the light chintz gown of his pretty
+cousin, came wafting to him over the past.
+
+"This is your old school-room!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Of course it is," said Fritz, "can you guess whom I have to thank for
+keeping it intact?"
+
+"The avarice of your principal?"
+
+"No, the delicacy of his wife. Before I moved in here she said to me,
+'my husband wished to have the house put in order for you, Herr Count,
+but I thought that perhaps you liked old associations, and I therefore
+beg you to make only what changes you think best.'"
+
+"A good woman!" Truyn murmured.
+
+Just then an extraordinary figure entered the room,--the same female
+that Truyn had encountered in the hall, but splendidly transformed,
+tightly laced, with cheeks covered thick with pink powder--Fritz
+Malzin's wife!
+
+"Very good of you," she began after Fritz had presented Truyn to her.
+Her voice had the forced sweetness of stage training. "Very good to
+honour our humble dwelling with a visit. May I take the liberty of
+offering you a cup of coffee, that is, Herr Count," as Truyn evidently
+hesitated, "if you can put up with our simple fare; in the country, you
+know, when one is not prepared ...."
+
+Fritz pulled his moustache nervously.
+
+Although he had reached the age of gastronomic fastidiousness, and
+especially abhorred spoiling the appetite between meals, Truyn
+good-naturedly accepted this pretentiously humble invitation.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The dining-room, a long narrow apartment with three windows, smelled of
+fresh varnish and fly-poison; the walls were decorated with dusty
+laurel wreaths wound about with ribbons covered with gilt inscriptions,
+and with several photographs of the hostess in tights. The long table
+was loaded with viands. Malzin's children, a girl and a boy,
+respectively five and three years old, shared the meal. They were pale,
+and sickly, but extremely pretty with a wonderfully sympathetic
+expression about the mouth and eyes, reminding one of their father. It
+was easy to see from the shy gentleness of their demeanour that Fritz
+had taken great pains with their training. He exchanged little tender
+jests with his small daughter, but he evidently made a special pet of
+the boy who sat beside him in a high chair, and to whose wants he
+himself ministered.
+
+There was nothing about Fritz of the amusing awkwardness of
+aristocratic fathers, who now and then in an amiable dilettante fashion
+interest themselves in the care of their offspring. On the contrary it
+was easy to see from the way in which he set the child straight at the
+table, tied on the bib, and put the mug of milk into the little hand,
+that the care of the child was a real occupation of his life.
+
+Truyn sat beside his hostess murmuring threadbare compliments, touching
+his lips to his coffee-cup, and crumbling a piece of biscuit on his
+plate.
+
+"You do our fare but little honour," the actress said more than once,
+"try a piece of this cake, Herr Count. Count Capriani who has a French
+cook, and is accustomed to the very best, always commends it."
+
+Fritz blushed. "Try this cherry cake," he said hastily. "Lotti
+makes it herself. She used always to feast me upon it when we were
+betrothed--eh, Lotti?"
+
+This cheery reference to her housewifely skill, offended the actress,
+and before Truyn could make some courteous rejoinder she exclaimed,
+flushed with anger, "You know, Herr Count, that where the means are so
+limited the mistress of the house must lend a hand."
+
+Truyn stammered something and Fritz smiled patiently as he stroked his
+little son's fair curls.
+
+It was a painfully uncomfortable hour.
+
+Truyn looked from the photographs to the glass fly-traps beneath which
+innumerable flies were lying on their backs, convulsively twitching out
+their lives, and his glance finally rested upon his hostess. She was
+strongly perfumed with musk, and was painted around the eyes. Her stout
+arms were squeezed into sleeves far too tight, and her bust almost met
+her chin. After this keen scrutiny, however, Truyn discovered that she
+was certainly handsome, that her face although disfigured by too full
+lips, was strikingly like that of the capitoline Venus.
+
+The intrusive humility of her manner, seasoned as it was with vulgar
+raillery, was insufferable.
+
+"For this woman!" he repeated to himself again and again. "For this
+woman!" His eye fell upon a photograph portraying the Countess as '_la
+belle Héléne_,' in a costume that displayed her magnificent physique to
+great advantage, and he suddenly remembered that he had seen her in
+that rôle; that her acting was bad; but that she produced a dazzling
+impression on the stage.
+
+"Did you recognize that picture, Herr Count?" she asked suddenly.
+
+"Instantly," he assured her.
+
+"Did you ever see me play?"
+
+"I once had that pleasure."
+
+"Ah!" A remarkable transformation was immediately manifest, her languid
+air grew animated, thirst for the triumphs of the past glittered in her
+eyes. She moved her chair a little closer to Truyn and coquettishly
+leaning her head upon her hand whispered, "Were you one of my adorers?"
+
+Fritz frowned and glanced angrily towards her, twisting his napkin
+nervously.
+
+His attention was suddenly distracted however, by the noise of the
+blows of an axe resounding slowly and monotonously through the heavy
+summer air. Fritz changed colour, sprang up and hurried to the window.
+
+"What is the matter?" the actress asked him negligently.
+
+"They are cutting down the old beech," he said slowly, turning not to
+her, but to Truyn.--"The Friedrichs-beech; planted by one of our
+ancestors, Joachim Malzin, with his own hands after the liberation of
+Vienna; we children all cut our names upon it. Don't you remember how
+Madame Lenoir scolded us for it, and declared that it was not _comme il
+faut_, but a pastime befitting prentice boys only? Good Heavens--how
+long ago that is!--and now they are cutting it down. Capriani insists
+that it interferes with his view."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+"If one could only help him!--but there is nothing to be
+done--absolutely nothing!"
+
+Thus Truyn reflected, as distressed and compassionate, he rode home on
+his sleek cob, followed by his trim English groom.
+
+There are many varieties of compassion not at all painful, which, when
+well-seasoned with a charming consciousness of virtue, may serve
+sensitive souls as a tolerable amusement. There is, for example, an
+artistically contemplative compassion that, with hands thrust
+comfortably in pockets, looks on at some melancholy affair as at the
+fifth act of a tragedy, without experiencing the faintest call to
+recognize its existence except by heaving sundry sentimental sighs.
+Then there is a self-contemplative compassion which, quite as inactive
+as the artistically contemplative, culminates in the satisfactory
+consciousness of the comparative comfort of one's own condition; then a
+decorative compassion, which is displayed merely as a mental adornment
+upon solemn occasions when the man marches forth clad in full-dress
+moral uniform.
+
+But there is one compassion which is among the most painful sensations
+that can assail a delicate-minded human being--a compassion, always
+united to the most earnest desire to aid, to console, and yet which
+knows itself powerless in presence of the suffering; that longs for
+nothing in the world more ardently than to aid that which it cannot
+aid! And this it was that oppressed Truyn, as he rode home from
+Schneeburg,--this vain compassion lying like a cold, hard stone upon
+his warm, kind heart!
+
+"If one could only help him, could but make life at least tolerable for
+him,--poor Fritz, poor fellow!" he muttered again and again.
+
+The tall poplars, standing like a long row of gigantic exclamation
+points on the side of the road, cast strips of dark shade upon the
+light, dusty soil. The crickets were chirping in the hedges; in the
+wheat-fields to the right and left the ears nodded gently and gravely;
+red poppies and blue cornflowers--useless, picturesque gipsy-folk,
+amidst the ripening harvest--laughed at their feet. The clover-fields
+had passed their prime,--they were brown and a faint odour of faded
+flowers floated aloft from them. The transparent veil of early twilight
+obscured the light and dimmed the shadows.
+
+How thoroughly Truyn knew the road! The inmates of Schneeburg and
+Rautschin had formerly been good neighbours.
+
+A throng of laughing, beckoning phantoms glided through his mind. Out
+of the blue mist of the morning of his life, now so far behind him,
+there emerged a slender, girlish figure with long, black braids, and a
+downy, peach-like face--dark-eyed Pipsi, for whom Erich, then an
+enthusiast of sixteen, copied poems--and a second phantom came with
+her, merry-hearted Tilda, who with the pert insolence of her thirteen
+years used to laugh so mercilessly at the sentimental pair of lovers;
+and Hugo, a rather awkward boy, always at odds with his tutor and his
+Greek grammar.
+
+Where were they all? Hugo went into the army, and was killed in a duel;
+dark-eyed Pepsi married in Hungary, and died at the birth of her first
+child; Tilda married a Spanish diplomatist--Truyn had heard nothing of
+her for years;--not one of the Malzins was left in their native
+land, save Fritz, who at the time of Truyn's lyric enthusiasm was a
+curly-headed, babbling baby, before whose dimples the entire family
+were on their knees, and who of his bounty dispensed kisses among them.
+
+Truyn's thoughts wandered on--he recalled Fritz as an dashing officer
+of Hussars. He was one of the handsomest men in the army, fair, with a
+sunny smile and the proverbial Malzin conscientiousness in his earnest
+eyes, very fastidious in his pleasures, almost dandified in his dress;
+spoiled by women of fashion.
+
+"Who would have thought it!" Truyn repeated to himself, as he gazed
+reflectively between his horse's ears. Suddenly he became aware of a
+cloud of dust,--and of a delightful sensation warming his heart. He
+perceived Zinka and Gabrielle sitting in a low pony-wagon, and behind
+them in the footman's seat was Oswald. Zinka was driving, being the
+butt of much laughing criticism from the other two. How pleased Truyn
+was with the picture, and how often was he destined to recall it, the
+fair, lovely heads of the two women, the dark, handsome young fellow,
+who understood so well how to combine a merry familiarity with the most
+delicate courtesy! How happy they all looked!
+
+"You are late, papa!" Gabrielle called out.
+
+"Have I offended you again, comrade?"
+
+"But papa--!"
+
+"I was beginning to be a little anxious," said Zinka, "Ossi laughed at
+me, and said I was like his mother, who if he is half an hour late in
+returning home from a ride always imagines that he has been thrown and
+killed on the road, and that the only reason the groom does not make
+his appearance, is because he has not the courage to tell the sad
+tidings."
+
+Oswald laughed. "Yes, my mother's fancy runs riot in such images,
+sometimes," he admitted, stretching out his hand for the reins, that he
+might help Zinka to turn round. "And how is poor Fritz?"
+
+"Wretched--such misery is enough to break one's heart--and no getting
+rid of it."
+
+"And you are no longer angry with him?" Oswald asked with a touch of
+good-humoured triumph.
+
+"Heaven forbid! but--," Truyn rubbed his forehead--"Oh, that
+stock-jobber--that phylloxera!"
+
+Just then there appeared in the road an aged man, spare of habit and
+somewhat bent, but walking briskly; his features were sharp but not
+unpleasant, his arms were long, and his old-fashioned coat fluttered
+about his legs.
+
+"Good-day, Herr Stern," Oswald called out to him in response to his
+bow.
+
+Truyn doffed his hat and bowed low on his horse's neck.
+
+"Who is it whom you hold worthy of so profound a bow, papa?" Gabrielle
+asked.
+
+"Rabbi von Selz," Truyn made answer, "in times like these such people
+should be treated with special respect, if only for the sake of the
+lower classes who always regulate their conduct somewhat by ours."
+
+"Oho, uncle, your bow was a political demonstration, then," Oswald
+remarked.
+
+"To a certain degree," Truyn replied, "but Stern is, moreover, a very
+distinguished man."
+
+"He is indeed," Oswald affirmed, "he is a particular friend of mine--if
+any one among the people about here maltreats him, he always applies to
+me. Poor devil! The Jews are a very strange folk. I always divide them
+into two families, one related directly to Christ, the other to Judas
+Iscariot. Poesy, the Seer, has produced two immortal types of these
+families, Nathan and Shylock."
+
+"Aha, Ella, I hope you are duly impressed by your lover, he really
+talks like a book," Truyn rallied his daughter who, her fair head
+slightly bent backward, was looking over her shoulder at Oswald, with
+rapt admiration in her large eyes. "I invited Fritz to dine with you,
+comrade, the day after to-morrow. He is almost as madly enthusiastic
+about your betrothed as you are yourself, and you can sing your
+Laudamus together."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+"There is nothing to be done with the fellow.--I never encountered such
+weakness of mind," exclaimed Capriani to his wife.
+
+The hour was three, and just before dinner; in accordance with Austrian
+custom, or rather with the national bad habit, they dined at Schneeburg
+at half-past three, although the whole family, especially those of the
+second generation, accustomed to late foreign hours, found this earlier
+hour very inconvenient.
+
+"Of whom are you talking?" Madame Capriani asked in her depressed
+tone; she was sitting erect upon a small gilt chair, she wore a gray,
+silk-muslin gown, rather over-trimmed, _gants de Suéde_, and an air of
+constraint.
+
+"Of whom are you talking?" she asked a second time, smoothing her
+gloves.
+
+"Of whom?--of that blockhead, Malzin," growled Capriani.
+
+"I told you from the first that he would never be able to fill that
+position," his wife rejoined.
+
+"Fill--!" Capriani shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, "fill--! it
+takes him two hours to write a business-letter. But I was prepared
+for that. His office is a sinecure; the salary that I pay him is an
+alms,--but Alfred Capriani can do as he pleases there,--and at least
+the fellow understands something about horses. What outrages me is to
+see how he squanders my money, the money that I give him. He ransacks
+the country round to buy back from the peasants relics of his parents.
+First an old clock, that struck twelve just as he was born, then an old
+piano, upon which his sisters used to strum the scales. 'Tis enough to
+drive one mad!"
+
+Frau von Capriani looked distressed. "That is a matter of sentiment,"
+she suggested.
+
+"A matter of sentiment--a matter of sentiment," Capriani repeated
+sarcastically. "It would be a matter of sentiment and conscience to
+think of saving up something for his children."
+
+"You are right, you are right," the Countess rejoined, in her emphatic
+yet not unmelodious Russian-German, "but this time you are in some
+measure to blame for his folly. I begged you a hundred times to ask him
+what he would like to keep for himself of the furniture which was
+entirely useless to us. Instead, you had it all put up at auction."
+
+"And the proceeds of the sale are to be devoted to the building of a
+new school, to be entirely independent of ecclesiastical influence,"
+said Capriani, "the old rubbish shall aid, willy-nilly, in the spread
+of modern liberal ideas. It is my aim to root out prejudices not to
+foster them. Would you have me minister directly to Malzin's folly? It
+would be nonsense. It makes me shudder to see this man, who owns
+nothing, positively nothing, except what I give him out of sheer
+kindness, and who ought to look ahead, keeping his eyes fixed upon the
+past, and sentimentally collecting empty bon-bon boxes, the contents of
+which his forefathers have devoured to the last crumb. He is the
+personification of the invincible narrowness of his class."
+
+"He is a good honest man," the Contessa said gently.
+
+"Honest,--honest!" Capriani repeated impatiently, "a man whose desires
+have been anticipated from his childhood, upon whose plate the
+pheasants have always fallen ready trussed and roasted, would naturally
+not contemplate picking pockets. To be sure, he might be tempted to try
+it, but he can't do it--he is too unpractical to be dishonest. There is
+nothing praiseworthy in that, for all the honesty that you ascribe to
+him he is a thorough selfish egotist; without the smallest scruple he
+robs his own children of thousands."
+
+"Malzin!" Frau von Capriani exclaimed, "why he would let his ears be
+cut off for his children, and if he refused to lose his hands too, it
+would only be because he needed them to work for his family."
+
+"To work!" rejoined Capriani ironically. "If he would only sacrifice
+for their sakes his miserable pride of rank he could do far more for
+them than by his work! He--and work! Do you know what reply he made to
+my splendid offer for his family vault? 'The vault is not for sale, it
+is the only spot of home that is left me. I will at least lie among my
+people when I am dead!' Can you conceive of greater insolence?"
+
+"Insolence--poor Malzin--he is as modest....!"
+
+"Modest!" sneered Capriani, interrupting her, "he is fairly bristling
+with arrogance. A starving pauper, living on my bounty, and all the
+while thinking himself superior to all of us. Intercourse with us is
+not at all to his taste."
+
+"He is always exquisitely courteous to me. I like him very much," Frau
+von Capriani declared. Her husband's constant attacks upon Malzin were
+beyond measure painful to her.
+
+"Men of his stamp are always gracious to ladies," snarled Capriani.
+
+Meanwhile his two children had entered the room, Arthur and Ad'lin,
+both in faultless toilettes, and both out of humour. The self-same
+weariness weighs upon both, the weariness of idlers who do not know how
+to squander time gracefully. Perhaps Georges Lodrin is not far wrong
+when he maintains that to idle away life gracefully is an art most
+difficult to acquire, and rarely learned in a single generation.
+
+Both asked fretfully whether the post had come, and then each sank into
+an arm-chair and fumed. One by one the various guests then staying in
+the castle appeared. Paul Angelico Orchis, a conceited little
+versifier, (lauded in the Blanktown Gazette as 'the first lyric poet of
+modern times') and the possessor of a dyspepsia acquired at the expense
+of others. A farce by him had been produced in Blanktown, and for ten
+years he had been promising the public a tragedy. Meanwhile his latest
+effort was the invention of a picturesque waterproof cloak. Frank, the
+famous tailor carried out his idea in dark brown tweed, in which the
+poet draped himself upon every conceivable occasion. After him followed
+two men of the kind which Georges Lodrin describes as 'gentlemen at
+reduced prices,' stunted specimens of the aristocracy, who played a
+very insignificant part in their own circles, and from time to time
+fled to their inferiors in rank to enjoy a little admiration. One,
+Baron Kilary, is a sportsman, insolent in bearing, lewd in talk; the
+other, Count Fermor, is a dilettante composer and pianist, affected and
+sentimental.
+
+Malzin and his wife also entered; while he bowed silently, and then
+respectfully kissed the hand of the hostess, Charlotte congratulated
+the two ladies upon the splendour of their attire, and lavished
+exaggerated admiration upon a couple of costly pieces of furniture
+which she had often seen before.
+
+Last of all appeared our old acquaintance, the Baroness Melkweyser, who
+had been at Schneeburg for a week. What was she doing there? The
+Caprianis looked to her for their admission into Austrian society,
+she looked to King Midas for the augmentation of her diminished
+income,--and something too might be gained from country air and regular
+meals for her worn and weary digestion.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+It is really melancholy for people who have been accustomed in Paris to
+entertain crowned heads, to be obliged in Austria to put up with a few
+sickly sprigs of nobility.
+
+The Menu was very elaborate; the clumsy table service came from
+_Froment-Munice_ and the china was Sèvres of the latest pattern, white,
+with a coronet and cipher in gilt; the butler looked like a cabinet
+minister, and the silk stockings of the flunkies were faultless.
+Nevertheless the entire dinner produced a sham, masquerading effect,
+reminding one more or less of a stage banquet when all the viands are
+of papier-maché.
+
+The hostess, with Baron Kilary on her right, and Fritz Malzin on her
+left, devoted herself almost exclusively to the latter, asking him
+kindly questions about his children.
+
+The host, seated between the Baroness Melkweyser, and the Countess
+Malzin, contented himself with seeing that the actress's plate was kept
+well supplied, and with exchanging jests with her which were merely
+silly during soup, but which grew more objectionable at dessert.
+
+The Baroness Melkweyser studied the Menu, Paul Angelico Orchis
+complained of his dyspepsia and asked advice of his neighbour, Ad'lin
+Capriani, as to his diet. Moreover he testified his gratitude for
+Capriani's hospitality by praising everything enthusiastically. He
+remarked that he had visited Schneeburg formerly, but that he should
+hardly have recognised the castle again, absolutely hardly have
+recognised it, it was so wonderfully improved, he could not see how
+Count Capriani could have effected so much in so short a time.
+
+Whereupon the master of the mansion replied with aristocratic
+nonchalance: "The place had to be made habitable, but there's not much
+that can be done with it, it is nothing but an old barracks, an
+inconvenient old barracks." He then held forth at length upon the
+improvements which he still contemplated, concluding with, "But I have
+no room--the Schneeburg domain is so contracted, so insignificant!
+Unfortunately all the estates which would serve my purpose are owned by
+people unwilling to sell."
+
+Madame Capriani tried several times unsuccessfully to check her
+husband, and Fritz looked gloomily down into his empty plate.
+
+He had always been so proud of his Schneeburg, and that it should not
+be good enough for this swindler, forsooth!----
+
+Fermor looked discontented, and talked to Adeline about his
+compositions, betraying at every word the sentimental arrogance of a
+narrow-minded, lackadaisical, provincial aristocrat, greedy for
+adulation, and salving his conscience for his new associations, by
+making himself as disagreeable as possible to the people whose bread he
+eats.
+
+Malzin, albeit in a subordinate position, manifested from habit the
+instinctive reserve of a true gentleman, fearful of wounding the
+susceptibilities of his inferiors. The conduct of his fellows was in
+striking contrast to his own. Fermor ignored him. Kilary on the
+contrary continually tried to draw him into familiar talk upon subjects
+of which none of the others knew anything, a course evidently
+irritating to the host.
+
+Malzin was, moreover, the only one at table towards whom Kilary
+conducted himself courteously. To the poet he was especially insolent.
+At dessert he read aloud with sentimental emphasis a couple of
+bonbon-mottoes, and then asked, "My dear Orchis, are these immortal
+lines your own?" at which the poet vainly tried to smile. The rumour
+ran that when his finances were at a low ebb he did sometimes place his
+genius at the disposal of a Vienna confectioner.
+
+After dinner the gentlemen retired to the smoking-room to smoke, the
+ladies to the drawing-room to yawn.
+
+"I cannot cease looking at you, this evening, Comtesse," Charlotte
+Malzin exclaimed, seating herself on a sofa beside the daughter of the
+house, "your gown is enchanting."
+
+"Very much too picturesque for this part of the world, they can't
+appreciate these contrasts of colour in this barbarous country," Ad'lin
+said crossly, as she was wont to receive the actress's advances. "They
+are far behind the age in Austria! _Dieu, qui l'Autriche m'ennuie!_"
+
+The actress fell silent, in some confusion.
+
+"What had the poet to say to you, Ad'lin?" asked the Baroness
+Melkweyser, after she had inspected through her eye-glass each piece of
+furniture in turn in the drawing-room.
+
+"That he could not digest truffles, and that he means to dedicate his
+next work to me."
+
+"Ah! the first item is highly interesting, and the last uncommonly
+flattering," the Melkweyser rejoined.
+
+"Yes, it means that I must order at least fifty copies of the
+interesting effusion," Ad'lin said fretfully, adding with a half smile,
+"People in our position have to encourage literature--_noblesse
+oblige_!"
+
+The Baroness bit her lip and resumed her voyage of discovery, turning
+to a cabinet filled with antique porcelain.
+
+"You really cannot think," Ad'lin began, leaving her sofa to join her
+friend, "how I have longed for you! You are the only link here in
+Austria between ourselves and civilization. I depend upon your forming
+an agreeable circle for us here."
+
+It was noteworthy that since Zoë's return to her native land, Adeline's
+familiarity had seemed far less acceptable to her than it had been in
+Paris. "An agreeable circle!" she exclaimed, "that is easily said,
+but you make it very hard for me. You do not want to know our
+financiers ...."
+
+"The Austrian financiers have no position; even the Rothschilds are not
+received at Court."
+
+"And the Austrian aristocracy is excessively exclusive on its own
+soil--!" said Zoë.
+
+"Ah that exclusiveness is a _fable convenue_," Ad'lin insisted, "I am
+convinced that if Austrian society knew us ...."
+
+Instead of replying, the Melkweyser directed her eye-glass towards the
+porcelain on the shelves of the cabinet. "That is the Malzin old-Vienna
+tea-service."
+
+"Yes, but it cannot be used--it is not complete."
+
+"I know it, Wjera Zinsenburg has the other half."
+
+"If it would give the Countess the slightest pleasure to complete the
+set, I should be perfectly ready to place this half at her disposal!"
+Capriani's voice was heard to say.
+
+The gentlemen had left their cigars and had come to the drawing-room
+for their coffee. Fermor who was too nervous to allow himself the
+indulgence of a cup of Mocha, sat down at the piano, and began to
+prelude in an affected manner.
+
+Leaning in a languishing attitude against the raised cover of the
+piano, Ad'lin murmured, "No one but you invents such modulations. You
+ought to indulge me with a grand composition, Count; have you never
+completed one?"
+
+"I am busy now with a work of some scope for a grand orchestra," Fermor
+lisped, dabbing his limp, bloodless hands upon the keyboard like a
+nervous kangaroo.
+
+"Ah! A sonata?--An opera?"
+
+"No, a requiem; that is a kind of requiem--more correctly a morning
+impromptu, the last thoughts of a dying poacher."
+
+"Oh how interesting! Pray let me hear it."
+
+"It is a rather complicated piece of music, Fräulein Capriani," Fermor
+always ignores the Capriani patent of nobility--"if you are not
+especially fond of our German classic masters ...."
+
+"I adore Wagner and Beethoven."
+
+"Then, indeed, I will .... but the harmony is very complicated!"
+
+Whereupon he began, with closed eyes, after the fashion of pretentious
+dilettanti, to deliver himself of a piece of music, the beginning of
+which reminded one of a piano-tuner, and the intermediate portion of
+the triumphal march of an operetta, and which, after it had lasted half
+an hour, and the audience had given up all hope of relief, suddenly,
+and without any apparent reason stopped short, a common termination
+where there has been no reason for beginning.
+
+"_C'est divin!_" Ad'lin exclaimed. "Your composition, Count, reminds me
+of the intermezzo of the Fifth symphony."
+
+"You are mistaken, Fräulein Capriani, my composition recalls no other
+music!" Fermor said, greatly irritated.
+
+With his eyes glowing, his full red underlip trembling, and his manner
+insolently obtrusive, Capriani threw himself down beside Charlotte
+Malzin upon the sofa and stretched his arm along the back of it behind
+her shoulders.
+
+"Come and help me with my work, Count Malzin," Frau von Capriani called
+kindly from her pile of cretonne. "You have so steady a hand."
+
+And while Fritz took his place beside her, and began to cut a bird of
+Paradise out of the stuff with great precision, Kilary took Arthur by
+the buttonhole and said, "You ought to know all about it young man, how
+must one begin who wants to grow rich?"
+
+"You must ask my father," Arthur replied insolently. "All that I
+understand of financial matters is, how to make debts."
+
+A servant brought in the letters and papers upon a silver salver.
+
+Whilst Arthur opened a dozen begging letters, and tossed them aside,
+ironically remarking, "Three impoverished Countesses--two Barons--a
+captain ..." and whilst Ad'lin hailed with enthusiasm two letters from
+a couple of French duchesses whom she counted among her friends, the
+Conte hurriedly ran his eye over an unpretending epistle which he had
+instantly opened. His hands trembled, a strange greed shone in his
+eyes, and quivered about his lips. Quite pale, as one is apt to be
+in a moment of victory he paced the room to and fro once or twice
+and then stepping directly up to Malzin he exclaimed, "What do you
+think--coal--! Schneeburg is a coal-bed. Extraordinary! Your father
+tried after madder, and I--have found coal!"
+
+Malzin shuddered slightly, but merely said, "I congratulate you!"
+
+"Malzin would never have forgiven himself if your bargain had turned
+out a poor one," sneered Kilary.
+
+There was something in his irony that irritated Capriani, a rebellion
+of caste against the autocracy of money, which he chose to punish. As
+he was powerless with Kilary he turned to Malzin and said in a tone of
+insolent authority, "Malzin, get me the map of Bohemia that lies on my
+writing-table." At a moment like this the thin varnish of refinement
+which contact with the world had imparted was rubbed off entirely, he
+showed himself in all his coarseness, and this not through any
+recklessness, but intentionally, in the consciousness that he, Alfred
+Capriani might do as he chose. At a moment like this he delighted in
+treading beneath his feet all who did not prostrate themselves before
+his millions.
+
+Malzin had attained a height where such insults did not reach him. But
+the blood mounted to the cheek of the mistress of the mansion. "Arthur,
+go and get the map!" she said gently.
+
+Fritz languidly prevented him. "You do not know where the thing is," he
+said good-humouredly and left the room.
+
+Capriani went on pacing the spacious apartment in long strides. "They
+are all alike, these blockheads," he muttered, "when they take it into
+their heads to work they are more stupid than ever. Old Malzin tried
+everything; he ruined himself in artificial madder-red, in lager beer,
+in sugar and in stocks,--and it never occurred to him that millions
+were lying in the ground beneath his feet."
+
+Malzin returned with the map and as every table was overcrowded with
+bibelots and jardinières, it was spread out upon the piano. Capriani
+eagerly travelled over it with his pudgy forefinger. "The track of the
+new railway must go here, between the iron works and Schneeburg."
+
+"Then it must go a very long round," Arthur remarked, "can you obtain
+the permit?"
+
+Capriani stuck a thumb in an arm-hole of his waistcoat and smiled.
+
+"Malzin, you know the estates around here; to whom does that belong?"
+pointing to a spot upon the map.
+
+"That belongs to Kamenz," said Malzin bending forward, and fitting his
+eye-glass in his eye.
+
+"And that?"
+
+"To Lodrin."
+
+"Then it comes to whether the interests of these gentlemen jump with
+your own," Arthur observed. "If they should work against you, you never
+can obtain the permit."
+
+"Pshaw! I understand tolerably well how to deal with these gentlemen."
+
+"Kamenz will give you no trouble, he is up to his neck in
+embarrassments, and would be glad to dispose advantageously of a piece
+of his land," drawled Kilary, looking at the map and giving his opinion
+with lazy assurance.
+
+"Lodrin's affairs cannot be in a very brilliant condition," Arthur
+remarked; "ever since his majority he has been making no end of
+improvements, and he is hard up financially."
+
+"With such an enormous property as the Lodrin estate there can be none
+save temporary embarrassments," Kilary said drily, "and in no case
+would Lodrin allow himself to be influenced by personal considerations.
+If you cannot demonstrate to him that the new railway will conduce to
+the universal benefit of the whole country he never will agree to it,
+and unless he does you can do nothing with the present ministry. A
+comical fellow Lodrin--a perfect pedant in some ways."
+
+"No," said Malzin, "not the least of a pedant, but a hot head with a
+heart of gold, and when duty is concerned, he is just like his father."
+
+"The old idiot," Capriani muttered below his breath, slowly as, with an
+air that was almost tender he stroked his long whiskers, while an odd
+smile played about his lips. "In fact you are right, Malzin,--a
+charming fellow, Ossi--a superb creature; not one of your Austrian
+nobility can hold a candle to him. But I--you'll see, Malzin,--I'll
+twist Ossi Lodrin around my thumb."
+
+Half an hour afterwards the guests separated. Frau von Capriani, more
+depressed than usual, retired to her room.
+
+The gentlemen went to the garden, and shot at a target; Conte Capriani,
+who never could bring down a pheasant on the wing, proved more
+successful than any of the others in hitting the bull's-eye.
+
+When the Melkweyser, who had been indulging in a short nap, entered the
+library half an hour afterwards to look for a 'sanitary novel' she
+found Ad'lin deep in the study of a small thick volume.
+
+Zoë looked over her shoulder; the book was the 'Gotha Almanach,' the
+Bradshaw of the Austrian aristocracy.
+
+"What are you looking for?" the Baroness asked.
+
+"For the Fermors--I want to know who the Count's mother was. She is not
+in this year's list. She was a Princess Brack, was she not?"
+
+"No, his mother was a Fräulein Schmitt, the daughter of a rich
+tavern-keeper."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+The Malzins walked home through the park. Fritz looked perturbed. His
+wife held her head high, and in no agreeable mood chewed at the stalk
+of a rose which the Conte had cut for her.
+
+"Lotti," Fritz began after a while, "I know that you act without
+reflection; you were a little imprudent to-day; it would be of no
+consequence with a man of breeding, but from a man like Capriani a lady
+must not allow the least familiarity."
+
+"You always find something to lecture me about," she replied sharply.
+"I have long known that I am not good enough for you. But I must
+confess that I have never observed that the ladies of your circle are
+more reserved than those of mine."
+
+"You know none of them," Fritz rejoined with incautious haste.
+
+"You certainly have afforded me no opportunity of knowing them,"
+Charlotte retorted, reddening with anger, "although you probably would
+have done so, had you not been ashamed of me from the first. Count
+Truyn has managed to give his wife a position,--but you--you would
+rather have died than have stirred a finger for me."
+
+This was not literally true, for Fritz had once knocked off the hat of
+an acquaintance who had forgotten to remove it in Charlotte's presence;
+on one occasion he had fought a duel on her account, and on another had
+horsewhipped a slandering editor, but it was substantially true that he
+had made not the smallest effort to introduce her to his world. He made
+no reply now to her reproaches, hung his head, and pulled at his
+moustache. She went on with angry volubility. "You were ashamed to walk
+in the street with me, and when you took me to the theatre you always
+hid yourself in the back of the box, and every day you had some fault
+to find with my ways. I have watched your aristocratic ladies at the
+races, at the theatre, and at artist's festivals--and their manners are
+as free--and it must out--as ill-bred ...."
+
+"The ill-breeding of a lady of rank," Fritz interrupted her impatiently
+"extends usually only as far as the good-breeding of the man with whom
+she chances to be."
+
+"I don't know what you mean," the opera-bouffe singer replied.
+
+"Our ladies know that the men whom they honour with their gay talk
+recognise their little whims, and merry extravagances as tokens of
+confidence which they would never dream of abusing. We never allow
+ourselves to step beyond the line which the lady herself draws.
+Familiarities like those which Capriani allowed himself toward you
+to-day are impossible among people of refinement. Of course from him
+nothing better can be expected; low fellow that he is!"
+
+"And you are his hired servant," said Charlotte.
+
+"Yes!" he replied, "I am his servant; it is my duty to select his
+horses and to write his letters, but I am not obliged to dine with him;
+that is not in the contract. And from this time I shall accept no more
+of his invitations. I will not expose myself a second time to the
+annoyance to which you and he subjected me to-day."
+
+Charlotte began to cry. "You are cruel to me--and rough," she sobbed.
+"I have put up with poverty for your sake, sacrificed a brilliant
+career to my love for you----"
+
+"Yes--yes, I know--I know--I am very sorry for you--but what can I do?"
+said Fritz.
+
+"The only pleasure I can enjoy, you want to deprive me of, when I look
+forward to it from Sunday to Sunday."
+
+"You enjoy it?--What, for Heaven's sake do you enjoy about it?" asked
+Fritz, to whom everything at these Sunday dinners was an offence,
+except the gentle eyes and soft voice of the hostess.
+
+"I enjoy mingling at last in fine society," she said stubbornly, and as
+he only stared at her in silence, she went on, "I know that you despise
+modern fine folk. But my views are broader and freer, and I have no
+feeling for aristocratic chimeras!"
+
+She had indeed no feeling for chimeras with or without the adjective,
+no feeling for moral and social subtleties, no feeling for honourable
+traditional superstitions, for fine inherited weaknesses and illusions,
+no feeling for all that constitute the moral supports of a caste,
+although they cannot be expressed in words or grasped with the hand.
+How could this woman comprehend Fritz, Fritz who had grown up with
+chimeras, who had made playmates of them in the nursery?
+
+He shrugged his shoulders and was silent. Just then the wailing of a
+weak childish voice fell upon the warm evening air. Fritz hurried
+forward; in front of the small arbour, with his little son in her lap,
+sat an old woman; it was old Miller, his nurse in childhood, who had at
+last found an asylum in a corner of his house. "The little fellow is
+crying for his father," she said while the boy smiling through his
+tears stretched out his tiny arms. "The Herr Count ought not to spoil
+him so."
+
+"Never mind that, Miller," Fritz said taking the child in his arms.
+"Oh, my pale darling, what should we do without each other, hey?"
+
+Fifteen minutes afterwards Fritz was sitting on the edge of a small bed
+on which his boy was kneeling with folded hands, looking in his snowy
+night-gown, that fell in straight folds about him, like a veritable
+Luca della Robbia.
+
+"Come, Franzi, have you forgotten your prayer?"
+
+
+           "In my small bed I lay me here,
+            I pray Thee dearest Lord be near,
+            About me clasp Thy loving arm,
+            And shelter me and keep me warm."
+
+
+the child murmured sleepily, then offered his lips to his father and
+lay down.
+
+It was a childish prayer--but Fritz learned it at his mother's knee
+from her dear lips--reason enough for teaching it to his son.
+
+And until the little man fell asleep, his hand under his cheek, Fritz
+still sat on the edge of the bed and dreamed.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+Yes, of a truth, Fritz had grown up with chimeras; they had been his
+playmates, born and bred and domesticated in Schneeburg.
+
+To them it was due that Fritz had married a second-rate actress; that
+Fritz, under all the most distressing circumstances, had still suffered
+from homesickness, and had taken refuge 'at home;' that he had always
+possessed a character not merely respectable, but thoroughly noble;
+never forfeiting the esteem of his equals although stricken from their
+visiting lists; and that, when in fulness of time he should make ready
+for the final journey, he might boldly face these very chimeras and
+say: "Often have I sinned against myself, and my own best happiness,
+but never, never against you; come therefore and help me to die."
+
+His father was a gentleman, a philosopher, a freethinker,--a visionary,
+if you will. He raved about the new gospel of 1789, as one raves about
+an exotic flower, because of its unparalleled oddity, and from the
+conviction that it never can endure our climate. He had all kinds of
+bourgeois intimates and the "Contrat social" was his favourite book.
+But when his son, not from blind passion, but to satisfy conscientious
+scruples, married an actress, he was beside himself. When Fritz, not
+without a hint as to the circumstances that had led him to the fatal
+step, announced his marriage, his letter was sent by the old Count to
+his lawyer to answer. He himself refused any further intercourse with
+his son.
+
+Had Fritz's mother been living, all might perhaps have been different.
+His wife would have been personally more distasteful to her than to his
+father, the fact of the connection would have seemed to her more
+miserable than to the old Count; but compassion for her child would
+have triumphed finally over every other consideration, her heart
+might have bled, but she would have taken home the distasteful
+daughter-in-law, and have tried to educate her for her position. At all
+events she would have known that when a man has trifled away 'the
+world,' his own home is his true place of refuge.
+
+To all this the old Count gave never a thought, although he was
+kind-hearted, and Fritz had always been avowedly his favourite. He saw
+nothing but the misery and degradation of it all; his heart was
+benumbed by anger. All that was bestowed upon Fritz when he married,
+was his father's curse, the property which he inherited from his
+mother, and his share of what had belonged to an elder brother who had
+died. Although he had from the outset belonged among the "_forçats du
+mariage_," he did not for some time feel the burden of his chain and of
+the enforced companionship. Of an intensely sanguine temperament he had
+a positive genius for looking on the bright side of life. What annoyed
+him most at first was being obliged, on account of his marriage, to
+quit the service. He was terribly bored by having to spend the entire
+day without his comrades or his horses. His yearly income at this time
+amounted to the modest sum of six thousand gulden. After he had made
+out a list of necessary expenses,--that is, added up certain figures
+upon a visiting card with a gold pencil, he came to the conclusion,
+with a shrug, that a married man could not possibly live upon six
+thousand gulden a year, and that therefore, under the circumstances, he
+might allow himself the privilege of contracting debts.
+
+Of course he would have thought it niggardly to save up anything while
+in the army; yet he had never been extravagant, he had always at the
+end of the month had something left over with which to help out a
+comrade.
+
+He hoped to be able to curtail his household expenses; but there were
+so many things that no respectable man 'could go without,' and still
+more, which his wife could not deny herself.--
+
+When Fritz was quite a little boy, his father had often admonished him
+as to the serious nature of life, and had impressed him as a younger
+son with the necessity of restricting his needs as much as possible,
+and even of earning his own living. His narrow circumstances in the
+future, had occupied the boy's mind, and one day he opened his heart to
+his sister's governess, at that time his confidante. He said to her,
+"Madame! Papa yesterday told of a contractor who employed people for
+fifty kreutzers a day.--Is that fair?"
+
+"Certainly, _mon bijou_. Why do you ask?"
+
+The boy looked very important, and began to reckon on his small
+fingers, "Fifty kreutzers a day--hm--that makes five gulden for ten
+persons--if I marry, and my wife keeps a maid, and I a man--and if we
+have six children beside--five gulden a day--I can afford that at
+least."
+
+At twenty-six years of age Fritz's ideas with regard to economy were
+not much more practical. A household with neither man-servant nor
+maid-servant did not come within his range of possibilities.
+
+He spent a couple of weeks with his young wife at the Hotel Munsch; a
+hostelry now out of fashion, but having for generations enjoyed the
+patronage of the Malzin family, and after that he hired a pretty suite
+of second-story rooms in a retired street, and arranged it according to
+his taste, and as he honestly believed, as moderately as possible. He
+had none of the snobbishness of an impoverished parvenu, who is ashamed
+of being obliged suddenly to retrench, and hides his economies as a
+crime. On the contrary, he exulted boyishly when he had succeeded in
+procuring at a moderate price some pretty piece of furniture, an old
+oriental rug, or a carved chest, nor did he ever hesitate to lend a
+hand himself; he hammered and tacked with his slender fingers, as if he
+had been bred to such work all his life.
+
+And it must be admitted that, with the exception of the drawing-room,
+which his wife in spite of his remonstrances persisted in disfiguring
+with green damask hangings, purchased at an auction with her savings,
+his little home was a masterpiece of tasteful comfort. His former
+comrades liked to drop in often for a game of cards with him. There was
+no high play, and the drinking was very moderate, but the supper, the
+style of the company, and the company itself, were always alike
+exquisite.
+
+The only disturbing element at these unostentatious gatherings was the
+mistress of the household, who sat opposite her husband at supper,
+affected and peevish in manner, and really bored by the high-bred and
+respectful courtesy with which she was treated.
+
+At first Fritz had indulged in ideal schemes of educating his wife, but
+they all came to grief. There was no trace in the wife of the docile
+devotion of the betrothed. A woman whose whole heart is her husband's
+never feels humiliated by his superiority. Her whole being aspires to
+him, her perceptions become all the more acute, and in a very short
+while she learns to divine, to avoid, whatever may offend him.
+
+This was, however, by no means the case with Charlotte. Her love for
+Fritz was of a very humdrum kind, and comprehension of him she had
+none. She did not acknowledge his superiority. All his good-humoured
+little preachments upon manners, she listened to with stubborn
+irritability. She was characterized to an extreme degree by the
+obdurate narrow-mindedness which sneers conceitedly at everything
+unlike itself, and absolutely refuses to learn. Fine clothes and
+pedantic affectations awed her, but she had no appreciation for
+the simple good-breeding of a man whose manners are the natural
+outgrowth of the habits of his class. Genuine good-breeding is like a
+mother-tongue which is spoken from childhood unconsciously as to its
+source, and correctly, without a thought of conjugations and
+declensions.
+
+This she neither knew nor understood; she was far better pleased with
+the artificial manners which are acquired when one is grown up, like a
+foreign tongue from the grammar, and which are continually seasoned
+with pretentious quotations, from modern dictionaries of etiquette. The
+difference between Count Fritz and a smugly-dressed bagman, lay in her
+eyes solely in the title.
+
+Before long Fritz grew tired of trying to educate her, and confined
+himself merely to the most necessary admonitions.
+
+Time passed--and there was a cradle hung with green silk in the
+Countess's room, and within it lay a boy of rare beauty. Charlotte
+petted and caressed her child with the instinct of tenderness shown by
+the lower animals towards their young, an instinct which fades out
+gradually, as soon as the offspring can forego its mother's physical
+care. Fritz rejoiced over the little fellow and had him christened
+Siegfried after the old Count his father, to whom he announced the
+birth of his grandson, hoping that it might help to bring about a
+reconciliation with the angry parent.
+
+But the Count took no notice of the announcement.
+
+At first Fritz's paternal sentiments were by no means enthusiastic, and
+if at times he caressed the little man, it was more out of kindness
+towards the mother than out of real interest in the child.
+
+On one occasion, however, he happened to enter the nursery just before
+going out, his hat on his head. The little one was in his bath, an
+expression of absolute physical comfort in his half-closed eyes, and on
+his plump little body, every dimple of which could be seen distinctly
+beneath the clear water.
+
+Fritz stopped, and playfully sprinkled a few drops of water upon the
+pretty baby-face. The child opened wide his eyes, and when his father
+repeated the play, the little one chuckled so merrily that it sounded
+like the cooing of doves, while throwing back his head and clinching
+his rosy fists upon his breast.
+
+A few days afterward Fritz went again to the nursery; this time the boy
+was just out of his bath and was being dried in the nurse's lap. He
+recognised his father and stretched out his plump arms to him. Fritz
+could not help tickling him a little, touching his dimples with a
+forefinger, and catching hold of the wee hands; a strange sensation
+crept over him at the touch of the pure warm baby-flesh.
+
+From that time he went into the nursery every day, if only for a
+moment. The child grew more and more lovely. His little pearly teeth
+appeared, and soft, golden hair hung over his forehead. He soon began
+in his short frocks to creep on all-fours over the carpet, and even to
+rise to his feet, holding by some article of furniture; and once, as
+Fritz was watching him with a languid smile, the boy suddenly left the
+chair against which he was leaning, and proudly and laboriously putting
+one foot before the other, advanced four steps towards his father, upon
+whose knee he was placed triumphantly quite out of breath with the
+mighty effort.
+
+When a little girl appeared as a claimant for the green-draped cradle,
+a pretty diminutive bedstead was placed in Fritz Malzin's room.
+
+What good comrades they were, Papa, and Siegi! Fritz talked to the
+little fellow of all sorts of things that he never mentioned to any one
+else, of his loved ones, of his home! And Siegi would look at him out
+of his large eyes, as earnestly as if he understood every word. Long
+before he could put words together, the boy learned to say "grandpapa,"
+and when his father, pointing to the photograph of an old castle, that
+hung framed in the smoking-room, asked "Siegi, what is that?" the
+little fellow would reply "Neeburg."
+
+The child was his father's friend, his companion, and was loved with an
+idolatry such as only those fathers can know who are estranged from
+their wives, and have no other interest in life.
+
+Of course the child had a French bonne, but her post was almost a
+sinecure. Fritz scarcely lost sight of the child for a moment.
+
+Shortly after his removal to Wiplinger street he had become convinced
+by certain calculations, that, in view of the high price demanded by
+hack-drivers, it was a great economy to keep horses.
+
+The result of these calculations was attained after the fashion of the
+clever man who demonstrated clearly that it is far cheaper to live in a
+first-class Hotel than in one of the second class.
+
+When Siegi was barely three years old, Fritz used to put him on the
+seat beside him in his dog-cart, and drive with him in the Prater. For
+greater security the child was tied fast to the back of the seat with a
+broad, silken scarf.
+
+Count Malzin's dog-cart was soon one of the best-known turn-outs in the
+Prater; the picturesque, lovely child beside the handsome,
+distinguished man could not fail to attract notice. Siegi was always
+dressed in good taste, and his soft curls lay like gold upon his
+shoulders. From time to time his little face was turned up eagerly to
+his father with some childish question. Then Fritz would bend over him
+with a smile, and sometimes put his arm around him.
+
+It was a positive delight to see them thus together. Many a lady who
+since Fritz's marriage had returned his bow but coldly, now nodded to
+him kindly as they gazed after the child.
+
+Once on a lovely day in April, Fritz alighted from his dog-cart with
+his little son and took him to walk, as was customary in Vienna, in the
+Prater. He was surrounded in a few minutes by a group of ladies with
+whom he had formerly been acquainted. Siegi had a triumphant success,
+every one wanted a kiss or a pat from his little hand.
+
+"Exquisite!" exclaimed one after another. "What a little angel! Malzin,
+you must bring the child to see us."
+
+"Fritz, do bring him to see me to-morrow at five, my children take
+their dancing-lesson then. You will come, won't you? You know the way."
+
+And Fritz, flattered, smiled and bowed.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Since his marriage he had not gone into society; but for his boy's sake
+he accepted these invitations; the little fellow must learn to
+associate with his equals. Fritz resolved that he himself should alone
+endure the consequences of his folly, his son should not suffer from
+it.
+
+Although well-bred people of rank in their normal condition usually
+train their children to a conventional modesty of demeanour, Fritz, on
+the contrary, took pleasure in making his son almost haughty, he, whose
+own lack of all pretention had been a by-word!
+
+When pride stands on the defensive, it always deteriorates somewhat.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+In spite of the modest scale of his household expenses, Fritz found to
+his surprise that during the first year he had spent just double his
+income. "It is always so the first year," he consoled himself by
+thinking, but when the second year was no better but much worse, the
+matter began to annoy him.
+
+At his card-parties, which were still kept up, although Charlotte but
+seldom appeared at them, (a relief usually purchased by Fritz with a
+box for her at the theatre,) one of the guests was a certain Baron
+Schneller, a good-natured, well-to-do fellow, who had no taste for
+earning money, and was in consequence rather in disgrace with his
+family, who showed great diligence in that direction. He squandered his
+income among antiquities and ballet-girls. His volunteer year he had
+served in Fritz's squadron.
+
+In his embarrassment Fritz applied to Schneller, and asked whether he
+knew of any more profitable investment for money than Austrian
+government bonds? Whereupon the banker's indolent son replied that he
+himself always invested upon principle in mortgages, but if Fritz
+wanted to know, he would ask his brother, who was at the head of his
+father's banking-firm.
+
+The next day he came, in his good-natured way, to see Fritz, bringing a
+list of 'safe stocks,' which were just then paying enormous dividends,
+and saying "My brother sends his regards, and begs you to consider him
+entirely at your service in any financial operation."
+
+With characteristic carelessness, Fritz delivered over his property to
+the banker, and the banker protested that it was an honour to oblige
+the young gentleman.
+
+After this Fritz felt free to spend three times as much as before. His
+property swelled and swelled without his comprehending the mysterious
+reasons for its increase. At last it began to assume the most
+unexpected dimensions. This lasted for some time.
+
+One day the banker informed the young Count that he was a millionaire,
+and asked him at the same time if he did not wish to realize.
+
+"Where is the use?" said Fritz, "there is no hurry,--er--I'll have a
+talk with you about it one of these days. I have no time just now."
+
+He had promised the children to take them to the circus; of course he
+had no time for business.
+
+He was dining with Schneller, when he suddenly heard a young government
+official, who did not belong exactly to financial circles, say. "A
+sorry prospect--the evening papers say that the Sternfeld-Lonsbergs are
+shaky."
+
+Fritz was startled. Little as he troubled himself about business
+affairs, he knew that the greatest part of his property was invested in
+Sternfeld-Lonsbergs. He looked fixedly at his host, who, however, only
+shrugged his shoulders, and remarking, "merely an insignificant
+depression," scraped a piece of turbot from the half-denuded vertebrae
+of the fish which the servant was handing him.
+
+Fritz continued to talk to his fair neighbour with the self-possession
+of a thoroughly well-bred man, while the Japanese dinner-service, with
+the cut glass, and flowers on the table danced wildly before his eyes.
+
+After dinner, his eye-glass in his eye, and a pleasant smile on his
+lips, he took occasion to glance furtively at a paper, lying on a
+little table. His blood fairly ran cold; suddenly Baron Schneller stood
+beside him. "You are entirely wrong to be worried," he asserted, and
+Fritz laughed and shrugged his shoulders as if the affair in question
+were a mere bagatelle. But the next day he wrote a note to the banker
+begging him to dispose of his stock for him. The banker dissuaded him
+from selling, the market was unfavourable; for the present he insisted
+the only thing to do was to wait.
+
+Fritz complied; shortly afterwards the banker advised him to take part
+in a complicated transaction which Fritz took no pains to understand,
+but which Schneller assured him positively would result in enormous
+profits.
+
+It was simply a reckless piece of stock-gambling.
+
+Fritz agreed to everything--what did he know about it? His financial
+affairs began to inconvenience him more and more. He wanted to be rich.
+
+Just at this time he had to pay a couple of large bills, which had not
+been presented for three years. He thought of his father. Good Heavens!
+The old Count could not be angry still. But, after years of alienation
+he could not in a financial difficulty make up his mind to appeal to
+him without further preface.
+
+"No, no, that will not do," he said to his small confidant, Siegi. "We
+must first see whether grandpapa cares for us, and if he does then we
+will make our confession; if not--_vogue la galère_."
+
+He never guessed the terrible misery that menaced him. Poverty was a
+phantom of which he had heard, without believing in it--it was as
+incomprehensible to him as death to a perfectly healthy man.
+
+And so Siegi's bonne had to dress the boy in his newest sailor suit,
+and his father took him to be photographed.
+
+The picture was excellent. Fritz took a boyish delight in it, and
+showed it to all his acquaintances. He thought it impossible that the
+grandfather could resist that cherub face. He wrote the old Count a
+letter, every word of which came warm from his heart, telling him how
+he longed to see him, and then he guided Siegi's hand--the boy had just
+begun to write the alphabet large between pencilled lines--to write
+upon the back of the photograph: "Dear grandpapa, love me a little--I
+send you a kiss and I am your little grandson.              Siegi."
+
+He awaited an answer in feverish but almost unwavering hope. The fourth
+day brought a letter from Schneeburg. Fritz recognised his father's
+handwriting and hurriedly tore open the envelope. It contained nothing
+save Siegi's photograph, which the old Count had returned without a
+word.
+
+Fritz clinched his fist and stamped his foot. Then he lifted his little
+son in his arms, kissing and caressing him as if to atone to the boy
+for the insult cast on him.
+
+It was impossible to ask any favour of one who could act thus, even
+were he his father.
+
+This was at the end of September, and shortly afterwards came ruin,
+utter inevitable ruin! Not modest poverty which privately plucks our
+sleeve and whispers, "retrench--economize!" no, but downright brutal
+poverty, that seizes us by the collar with a dirty hand and wrenching
+us out of the warm soft nest of our daily habits, casts us out into the
+cold barren street with "Starve! vagabond! freeze!"
+
+The million had disappeared, and when the banker, Schneller, announced
+to Fritz his ruin, he added, "of course you cannot be forced to meet
+your obligations, Herr Count. The matter lies partly in your own
+hands."
+
+Fritz stared at him! The worst of it all was that his property was not
+sufficient to cover his indebtedness!
+
+A multitude of petty creditors suddenly flocked around, saddlers,
+tailors, shoemakers, upholsterers, whose bills mounted to thousands.
+Fritz was beside himself. Small tradesmen must not lose by him. He
+broke up his entire household, and disposed of everything, from the
+oriental rugs in his smoking-room, to Siegi's black velvet suit and
+Venetian lace collar.
+
+But with all that he could do he could not pay every one. Some of the
+lesser creditors were coarse and pressing, but most of them only meekly
+twirled their caps about in their hands, murmuring, "We can wait, Herr
+Count; we rely entirely upon the Herr Count."
+
+He lived through each day dully, almost apathetically. The dreariness
+and emptiness of his house made no impression upon him. When the time
+came for him to part with his horses--a member of the _jeunesse dorée_
+of Vienna bought them at a high price--he took Siegi and went down into
+the stable, where he fed the beautiful creatures with bread and sugar,
+and stroked their heads and patted their necks; and when he turned and
+left them neighing and snorting with delight--it seemed to him that a
+piece of his heart were being torn from out his breast!....
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Every day his wife asked him when he was going to appeal to his father,
+but he made no reply. After the insult that the old Count had offered
+to his darling, nothing should ever induce him to make another appeal.
+Nothing? So he thought then. "My father must have heard of my
+unfortunate circumstances," he said to himself, "and if it does not
+occur to him to help me, there is nothing that I can do."
+
+He determined to find a situation,--of course one befitting his name
+and station. If every ancient noble name to-day in Austria cannot lay
+claim, as in France in Louis the Fourteenth's time, to an office at
+court, or to a salary, there are at least a hundred kinds of sinecures
+that can afford the means of living suitably for their rank, to young
+scions of the nobility who have not sinned against the prejudices of
+their caste.
+
+His fatal marriage aggravated the difficulties of Malzin's position.
+The horizon of his existence contracted and darkened more and more.
+
+The dogged determination which, closing accounts with the past,
+resolutely clears away the débris of a ruined life from the path which
+is to lead to a new existence, Fritz did not possess. His was the
+passive endurance of pride, which calmly bows beneath the burden, and
+drags on with it to the end, simply because it scorns to complain or to
+appeal to compassion.
+
+_One_ feeling only was stronger within him than pride, and that was
+love for his children.
+
+Were he alone concerned, he would rather have starved than prefer a
+second request after the first had been refused, but he could not bring
+himself to see his children slowly starve.
+
+He applied to several individuals who had always been on terms of great
+intimacy with his family, but after some had refused to receive him,
+and others had ignored his request with a forced smile, he felt
+paralysed, and resigned himself for a while to melancholy, brooding
+inactivity. There must come a change sooner or later, he thought. In
+the meanwhile he lived upon--debt, and could not comprehend why
+professional usurers should need so much urging to induce them to lend
+him, the probable heir of Schneeburg, a paltry couple of hundred
+gulden.
+
+Had he been more exactly informed of his father's circumstances, this
+would not have surprised him so much. But he had heard nothing of the
+old Count for years. A strange repugnance had prevented his speaking of
+him to strangers,--it would only expose his own unfortunate
+estrangement from his father to their indiscreet curiosity. Every day
+he had a secret hope, although he hardly admitted it to himself, that
+the old Count would take pity upon him, and suddenly appear
+providentially.
+
+But his father did not appear, and thus it was that finally he, Fritz
+Malzin, with his wife and children occupied two dingy third-story
+rooms in Leopold street, rented from his mother-in-law, who kept a
+lodging-house for gentlemen.
+
+Charlotte from morning until night bewailed her husband's
+unconscionable heedlessness, but in reality she was much happier than
+in Wipling street. To lounge about all the morning in a slatternly
+dishabille, to help prepare the breakfast for the lodgers, to gossip a
+little and flirt a little, and then in the evenings to array herself in
+the finery which she had contrived to smuggle into her present
+quarters, and to go to Ronacher's or some other beer-garden, where half
+a dozen second and third-rate coxcombs addressed her as 'Frau
+Countess,' and paid court to her,--such a life was bliss after the
+tedium of her former existence. She went out every evening, leaving
+Fritz at home with the children, revolving all kinds of improbable
+possibilities which might suddenly improve his condition, and devising
+schemes dependant upon lucky accidents that never happened.
+
+Sometimes a little warm hand was thrust into his; and a soft voice
+whispered to him: "Papa, tell me a story!"
+
+Then rousing himself from his sad reveries, he would try to make up
+some merry tale, but Siegi would shake his head, and nestling close to
+his father with his arms clinging about his neck and his head leaning
+against his father's cheek would beg, "Tell me about Schneeburg, Papa."
+
+The winter with its long nights wore on in close rooms poisoned by
+coal-gas, and pervaded by the cramping sensation of wretched
+confinement. Spring came; Siegi had lost his rosy cheeks, and his merry
+laugh. Every afternoon towards sunset his father took him out to walk.
+The child coughed a little.
+
+One warm day in April the clouds were hanging low, while ever
+and anon in the narrow street a swallow skimmed anxiously to and fro.
+Siegi was weary, and his little feet dragged one after the other,
+when suddenly he pulled his father's hand, joyously shouting: "Papa,
+papa--look--don't you see?--there is our Miesa!"
+
+Fritz looked. It did not take an old 'cavalry man' an instant to
+recognize in an animal harnessed to a fiacre, one of his handsome
+horses of aforetime.
+
+"Miesa! how are you, old girl?" he said caressingly.
+
+The creature recognised him instantly, and whinnied her delight. Fritz
+patted her neck and lifted Siegi up that he might kiss the white star
+on the animal's forehead, as he used to do.
+
+Then they resumed their walk. Without saying a word Fritz stroked his
+little son's cheek;--it was wet with tears. The poor little fellow was
+crying silently, for fear of grieving his father!
+
+Fritz felt a strange, choking sensation. He took the boy to a
+confectioner's, but the child could eat nothing.
+
+That night Siegi was taken ill. The physician pronounced it
+inflammation of the lungs. Lying in his father's arms for three days
+and nights, the boy suffered fearfully, and then the crisis was over.
+At the end of three weeks the little fellow could leave his bed, but he
+was paler and weaker than ever.
+
+During Siegi's illness Fritz borrowed a hundred gulden from a former
+friend. Shortly afterwards he saw this friend in the street and was
+advancing to meet him when he saw him cross over the way with the
+evident intention of avoiding him. Fritz's blood was stirred at this,
+and blind, reckless rage seized him. The paltry hundred should be
+repaid at any cost. He sold his winter overcoat, and the golden
+chronometer which his father had given to him on his sixteenth
+birthday, and which was to have been an heirloom for Siegi.
+
+He paid the hundred gulden--but ah, how often he repented it!
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Among the lodgers at the widow Schmitt's, as Charlotte's mother was
+called, was a sallow-faced old woman, whose room was a small, dark,
+comfortless hole, and who wore the same shabby, green gown, summer and
+winter, year in and year out. She was known as Frau Pick, and she was a
+professional beggar.
+
+One day, on returning from some humiliating errand, Fritz heard one of
+his sisters-in-law call to his wife: "Pick is waiting."--"I am ready,"
+was the reply, and Charlotte came out into the passage with a letter in
+her hand. Fritz sprang to meet her, snatched the letter from her,
+forced her back into the room and, entering, closed the door behind
+them.
+
+The letter was addressed to the archbishop of Vienna.
+
+"What does this letter contain?" he asked angrily, seizing her so
+rudely by the wrist, that she screamed and fell upon her knees before
+him; she did not answer his question, however.
+
+"Is it a begging-letter?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+He thrust her from him indignantly. "Shame upon you!" he exclaimed.
+
+"It is all your fault!" she replied scornfully, "if you won't work, I
+must beg."
+
+"Ah!"--he staggered as if from a blow full in the face, snatched up his
+hat and went out.
+
+Before night he had a situation in the office of a tramway company, at
+a hundred gulden a month.
+
+The summer was more sultry than usual. The air in Vienna seemed
+fever-laden. The trees in Ring street no longer rustled dreamily as in
+Spring, there was a sound among their parched leaves as of a low cough.
+If a rose bloomed out in the public gardens in early morning, before
+evening it looked dry and withered, like a reveller returning from a
+masked ball; the blue Danube was as tawny as a canal, and Vienna
+reminded one more than ever of Manzanares.
+
+The theatres were deserted, the tramways overcrowded, all who could
+went out into the country. Pedestrians hugged the wall on the shady
+side of the street; the skies were one monotone of blue. The glare of
+the house-fronts made the eyes ache.
+
+The pestilent summer atmosphere of cities hung over Vienna, saturated
+with decay, and reeking with filth. A deadly epidemic broke out; in
+almost every block one met a sad litter, borne by silent sanitary
+officials.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Siegi grew weaker and more weary day by day; he coughed a little but
+never complained. Fritz consulted his old family physician who merely
+prescribed nourishing food and country air.
+
+Fritz insisted upon knowing whether any danger was to be
+apprehended--the old man remained silent, and of a sudden the father
+felt that freezing thrill that comes of touching a corpse. For the
+first time he recognized the possibility of the child's death.
+
+All his pride broke down at the thought; he wrote immediately to his
+father, unfolding to him his own need and the child's condition, and
+imploring permission to bring the boy to Schneeburg.
+
+Days passed into weeks; his letter was unanswered. He lived on
+mechanically with sufficient mental force to fulfil his duties at the
+office. He performed them slowly and with difficulty, but he was
+treated with consideration. Even had there been a way close at hand out
+of the misery he could hardly have found it now.
+
+Every morning Siegi's weak little voice sounded weaker, as he said,
+when his father left him, "Come back soon!"
+
+Why had he repaid that hundred gulden? There was no conceivable
+humiliation to which he would not gladly now have submitted could he
+but procure for Siegi the comforts that were needed! But to have to
+haggle over the price of an orange or of an ice!
+
+There were moments, when he ground his teeth, and in his heart avowed
+that he was ready and willing to beg, to steal for Siegi. But not every
+one who will, can be a rogue. Once or twice he met a 'friend' who still
+lingered in Vienna. He advanced towards him--with words of begging on
+his lips--only to be seized with a fit of trembling--no, he could
+not--he could not--it was impossible!
+
+And scarcely had his 'friend 'passed by before he cursed himself for
+his--cowardice. Weaker and weaker grew the child. Once Fritz took it to
+the Prater to amuse it. The gay music of the band, the carriages, all
+that the summer had left, in which the boy had once found such delight,
+now cut him to his little heart.
+
+They sat together upon a bench, beneath the dusty trees. The child
+looked at the throng of vehicles with eyes wide and fixed--the father
+looked at his son. "Does it amuse you? Do you like it, Siegi?" he
+asked, bending tenderly over him; the boy smiled faintly and said,
+"Yes, Papa!" But, in a few moments he leaned his tired little head
+against the father's breast and lisped, "Let us go home."
+
+Only a little while longer and Siegi could not leave his bed--and Fritz
+heard the dread word 'consumption!'
+
+He knew that it could be only a question of weeks, and sometimes said
+to himself that it would be better for the child if death would come
+quickly. But he thrust the thought from him. No, no, he yearned to hear
+as long as possible the little voice, and to stroke the thin cheek. The
+rosy childish face was wan and pinched, the arms looked like little
+brown sticks, the delicate tracery of the blue veins about the temples
+grew daily more distinct, the brow grew more like marble....
+
+Then came mornings when Fritz, going early to his office, feared that
+he should not find the child living upon his return in the evening. As
+he mounted the stairs when he came home his heart would seem to stand
+still--he would enter the room very softly. The little head would move
+on the pillow, a hoarse little voice would gasp: "Papa!" and the
+father's heart would leap for joy!
+
+It came towards the end of August--in a heavy, stifling, sultry night.
+He was alone with his child.
+
+Charlotte had retired; she could not look upon death. The heat was
+intolerable. The windows were wide open, but they looked out upon a
+court where the air was no cooler than in the sick-room. The fragrance
+of the roses and mignonette, which Fritz had brought home with him to
+perfume the air a little, floated sadly through the small room. It
+seemed as if the death struggle of the flowers mingled with the death
+struggle of the child. Siegi lay in his little bed, propped up with
+pillows. His breathing was so short and quick that it could hardly be
+counted. "Papa!" he gasped from time to time.
+
+"What, my darling? Do you want anything?"
+
+"No,--only--when are we going to Schneeburg?"
+
+"Soon, my pet--very soon!"
+
+The child became half unconscious, tossed from side to side, and
+plucked vehemently at the sheet with his emaciated little hands.
+Delirium set in, he laughed aloud, chirrupped to imaginary horses, and
+then with a thin, quavering little voice, began to sing an old French
+nursery song that his bonne had taught him:
+
+"_Il était un petit navire_...."
+
+Poor Fritz's blood ran cold, he took the child in his arms, and clasped
+him close. The cooler air of dawn breathed through the room--the light
+of the poor candle flickered strangely. Gray shadows danced on the wall
+like phantoms--the low chirp of a bird was heard in the distance.
+
+Suddenly the flame of the candle leaped up and died out. Fritz started
+and gazed at the child--it was dead!
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X.
+
+
+The next morning Fritz received a letter from his father enclosing a
+draft for a thousand-gulden note, coupled with the old Count's cordial
+and anxious words. His son's last letter had reached him in the most
+complicated roundabout way; he had just returned from a voyage to
+Australia, and had known nothing of Fritz's unfortunate circumstances.
+
+In reply Fritz merely wrote, "The child is dead."
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+It was the afternoon after the funeral, and Fritz was all alone in the
+house. Charlotte had taken the children for a little walk; there was a
+sharp ring at his door. He rose and opened it. A white-haired old
+gentleman of distinguished mien, asked, "Is Count Malzin----"
+
+"Father!" stammered Fritz.
+
+The old man advanced a step, eagerly scanned the face that had grown
+wan and haggard almost past recognition, then opened wide his arms and
+clasped his son to his heart. All anger, all bitterness on both sides
+was forgotten.
+
+They sat down in the dim, sordid room in which Siegi had died, and
+Fritz laid bare his heart.
+
+They sat close enough to read the deep sympathy in each other's eyes,
+and to hear each other's low tones, and in the midst of his
+inconsolable grief, Fritz rejoiced in being once more with some one who
+understood him, some one to whose loving compassion he could confide
+the wretchedness of his life.
+
+He told his father everything; of his marriage, of his imprudence--of
+his misery. He soon perceived that the old Count had believed Charlotte
+to be worse than she was, and therefore had refused to acknowledge
+Siegi as his grandson.
+
+But that was all past and gone! He made his son bring out all the
+likenesses of the dead boy, and was absorbed in every detail concerning
+him; he asked endless questions, and seemed as if he would thereby fain
+have assumed a share of his son's overwhelming grief, relieving Fritz
+of it to that extent at least.
+
+At last steps were heard outside, and Charlotte entered with the
+children. Fritz winced.
+
+"Father, this is my wife."
+
+The grand old Count advanced to meet her as if she were a princess,
+called her "daughter" and kissed her forehead. He could not
+sufficiently caress and pet the children.
+
+The next morning Fritz with the children paid him a visit at the Hotel
+Munsch, and they took leave of each other with affectionate cordiality.
+
+"Of course you will come to Schneeburg with your family as soon as
+possible," the old Count said anxiously, as they parted. "You need your
+home, my poor boy."
+
+And Fritz rejoiced--in the midst of all his grief,--at the thought of
+home.
+
+They had already begun to get ready to leave Vienna, when a letter
+arrived from Schneeburg.
+
+
+"Dear Fritz,
+
+Hard as it is to write it, I must ask you not to give up your situation
+in Vienna for the present. My poor, dear boy, I can do nothing for you
+until my affairs are arranged. Only have patience and all will soon be
+well, etc...."
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+When the hoped-for arrangement was completed it was discovered that the
+old Count was penniless. In his costly expedients to raise money he had
+begun frittering away his property and then--it seemed incredible--he
+became infected with the general mania for finding millions on the
+highway, and had entangled himself in a colossal speculation in
+Australian gold mines. Conte Capriani, with whom he had become
+acquainted in Vichy, had convinced him of the certainty of gain in the
+affair. Capriani's name alone was sufficient warrant for the value of
+the stock. The old Count was made president of the company; his name
+was used to inspire the public with confidence,--his noble old name
+which he had borne so honourably for sixty-five years! The first year
+the company paid enormous dividends--out of their capital. In the
+second year matters began to look suspicious. The Conte slowly withdrew
+from the scheme--he found that certain things were different from what
+he had supposed; he had been falsely informed.... He advised the Count,
+who went to Paris to consult him, to dispose of his stock slowly
+without exciting suspicion. But the Count would not listen to anything
+of the kind. He had pledged himself to the public, his easy confidence
+had induced hundreds of men to buy the stock, he had urged many of them
+to do so thinking it was for their advantage. Among them were poor
+people, impoverished relatives, nay even old servants, his children's
+former tutors who had invested all their savings in this unfortunate
+scheme, upon his recommendation. He was beside himself, bought up as
+much of the stock as he could, and went himself to Australia to
+investigate matters. He, who in his whole life from his school-days up
+had never known anything of figures beyond what enabled him to keep the
+reckoning at whist, now ciphered and calculated, bringing all his
+powers of mind to bear upon the possibilities of profit.
+
+He found matters by no means as desperate as had been represented in
+Europe--the affair might have been made a success with prompt energetic
+management; what was needed was more capital. But the confidence of the
+stockholders was shaken; the Count upon his return to Europe tried in
+vain to issue fresh stock, he applied fruitlessly to the Conte
+Capriani, representing to him that as the originator of the entire
+speculation he was bound to help. The Conte maintained that he was
+powerless.
+
+The stock fell lower and lower, fell with bewildering rapidity.
+
+One day Fritz received a letter: "Schneeburg must be sold."
+
+The poor fellow felt as if his sore heart had been struck with a
+hammer. His sad yearning for his home was turned to a burning thirst--a
+consuming desire. He was as homesick as a peasant, nay--as a Slav.
+
+Men who live in cities and change their dwelling-place three or four
+times, never strike root anywhere, and consequently can have no
+conception of the homesickness that attacks a man who is separated from
+the soil upon which he and his ancestors for generations have been born
+and bred. A man thus bred has become acclimated like a plant, to this
+special air, this special soil, and however long the years of absence,
+wherever he may have lived meanwhile, he will always yearn for 'home.'
+
+Fritz had caught a cold upon leaving Wipling street, at the same time
+that Siegi had been taken with the illness that ended in his death.
+Fritz recovered, but his health was shattered, his voice was husky, and
+h» had feverish nights which in spite of weariness were wakeful. For
+hours he would pace the wretched room where stood Siegi's empty little
+bed, which he had not brought himself to have removed, and would
+conjure up visions of Schneeburg.
+
+Sell Schneeburg! In his pain at this fresh blow he forgot for a moment
+his grief for his child. Memories of 'home' thronged about him with a
+vividness that savoured of mental hallucination. He saw the morning sun
+glitter in the dewy moss that lay green on the thatched roofs of the
+village, he saw the very puddles before the houses wherein the swine
+wallowed, and a flock of fowls scratching on a muck-heap, and a group
+of shivering children cowering beneath the cross before the smithy.
+
+He saw the pond in the middle of the village; the little dusky waves
+swelled and rippled beneath the nipping wind of autumn and a single
+rugged elm cast its long reflection across the broken surface. He saw
+the soft black soil on the edge of the pond stamped with countless
+impressions of webbed feet. He saw the geese themselves, hissing and
+flapping their wings while the sunlight played upon the rough pink
+surface of their plucked breasts. Thatched roofs, swine, and geese had
+certainly never interested him much--these detailed impressions had
+been made upon his mind all unconsciously--they belonged to the whole.
+
+He saw long transparent wreaths of mist like ghostly shrouds, floating
+above the freshly-ploughed fields, and the crows flapping above the
+brown leafless trees, in gloomy processions, mourners for the dead
+summer,--a dun-coloured cow was standing between two gnarled
+apple-trees by the way-side, looking inquisitively out of her dark-blue
+glazed eyes.
+
+The pictures grew confused, and again distinct. He saw the park with
+its broad emerald meadows where the venerable trees grew in large dense
+clumps. He knew the voice of every single tree, the rustle of the oak
+differed from the murmur of the copper-beech; he knew the very tree
+which would turn orange-coloured in autumn, which one only yellow,
+edged with black, and which one dark crimson. They stirred their grand
+old heads and broke into a chant; it sounded like a magnificent choral
+through the still autumn air, while single leaves, frosted with dew, as
+with delicate molten silver, loosed their hold and sank slowly
+fluttering down upon the grass.
+
+And the kitchen garden, that Paradise of childhood, with its hoary
+apricot-trees, whose mellow fruit always dropped on the old-fashioned
+sage beds. Ah, what fruit it was, so big, and so yellow, and so juicy!
+
+Then he laughed softly at something that had happened twenty years
+before, and--waking from his visions, and his reverie, passed his hand
+across his brow. Where was he? Sitting in the room of a miserable
+lodging-house, beside the empty little bed of his dead child.
+
+He lay down very weary. The last thing that he saw distinctly before
+falling asleep was a large circle of red gravel in front of Schneeburg
+Castle, furrowed with delicate ruts. These ruts formed the figure of
+eight--the first figure of eight which he, a boy of fifteen, had drawn
+in the gravel with his father's four-in-hand--the delicate fragrance,
+not perceptible to every one, of wild strawberries floated past him,
+and then all faded. Sleep compassionately laid her hand upon his heart
+and brain. He slept the sleep of the dead for a couple of hours, and
+the next morning his torture began afresh.
+
+He could have wandered barefoot like a beggar to Schneeburg, only to be
+able to fling himself down on that dear earth, and kiss the very soil
+of his home.
+
+The sale was long in concluding,--purchasers chaffered as usual, when
+in treaty for an impoverished estate. There were fears that it would be
+brought to the hammer. But in the spring Capriani appeared and offered
+a price for Schneeburg which was at least sufficient to cover the
+Count's indebtedness. His lawyer urged the old man not to delay
+accepting this offer, but Siegfried Malzin still hesitated. For three
+days he wandered about Schneeburg like one distraught, then he began to
+yield conditionally, but all conditions vanished before Capriani's
+energy. Malzin lost his head, and made many injudicious concessions. He
+sold with the estate very many valuable articles that he ought to have
+kept for himself. He forgot everything--and as a man at a fire will
+finally rescue in triumph an old umbrella, and a child's toy, so he
+rescued from his property, in addition to the family vault, which from
+the first he insisted upon keeping, nothing, save--the stuffed charger
+which stood in the hall, and which a Malzin had bestridden on the
+occasion of the liberation of Vienna by Sobiesky.
+
+The morning after the deed of sale had been signed, the former
+possessor of Schneeburg was found dead in his bed--heart-disease had
+delivered him from misery.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+On one and the same day Fritz heard of the sale of Schneeburg and of
+his father's death;--he was crushed.
+
+Capriani had a weakness for taking into his service impoverished men of
+rank. They worked but indifferently well, as he knew; but nevertheless
+he preferred to employ them. He paid them well, and treated them
+cruelly.
+
+One day he offered Fritz the post of private secretary. To the
+astonishment, nay, to the horror, of all his friends, Fritz accepted
+the position.
+
+On a cool evening in May he took possession with his wife and children
+of the little cottage on the borders of the park, close to the kitchen
+garden, and a sense of delight mingled with pain, thrilled through him,
+as he hurried along the paths of the dear old home that now belonged to
+another.
+
+He had to warn his children not to run on the grass, not to pull the
+flowers, and upon his own land!--yes, his own by right--he never could
+appreciate that this land had ceased forever to be his.
+
+He could not look upon Capriani except as a temporary usurper. He could
+not but believe in counter revolutions--what was to bring them about he
+could not tell.
+
+Sometimes when he suddenly came upon old Miller, his former nurse who
+had found an asylum with him, he would say: "Miller, do you remember
+this--or that?" and upon her "yes, Count," he would smile languidly.
+
+All the fire, all the impetuosity of his nature was extinct.
+
+Sometimes he roused himself to feel that it was his bounden duty to do
+something to reinstate his son in his rights. But what?
+
+Conte Capriani, to be sure, had begun life with a single gulden in his
+pocket, but that was quite a different thing. It was not for Fritz
+Malzin to enter the lists with the stock-jobber, who knew so well how
+to keep just within the letter of the law.
+
+And so he continued to live, sadly resigned, dreaming of old times,
+hoping for wonderful strokes of fortune that never took shape. All the
+while he indulged in visions, and every evening, when he laid his
+cards for Patience he consulted them, always asking the self-same
+question--"Will Schneeburg ever revert to my children?"
+
+
+
+
+
+                              BOOK THIRD.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+A jingling of bells, a clatter of hoofs from five spirited bays
+harnessed in Russian fashion, and hardly seeming to touch the earth as
+they fly along, a rattle of wheels, a whirling cloud of dust,--and
+Oswald Lodrin's five-in-hand came sweeping round a corner in one of the
+old-fashioned streets in Rautschin. People ran from everywhere to
+stare,--a housemaid cleaning a window, leaned out at the risk of her
+neck, to follow the gay equipage; two small boys going home from
+school, paused and vented their delight in waving their caps and
+cheering; Oswald nodded to them kindly. His eyes were aglow with
+happiness, he had a white rosebud in his button-hole. His future
+father-in-law sat beside him in the driver's seat, and Georges was on
+the seat behind.
+
+It was the day before the election. Oswald had just come from Castle
+Rautschin, where, according to agreement, he was to pick up his uncle
+to drive with him to the railway station, and he had taken this
+opportunity to display his new five-in-hand to his betrothed. The five
+horses clattered along gaily, as if to the races, instead of to a
+railway station.
+
+"We must hurry, there is the signal," said Georges half rising from his
+seat, to gaze in the direction of the station.
+
+"Don't be afraid," rejoined Oswald, "it is an Express, to be sure, but
+if it sees us coming, it will wait!"
+
+"True! I forgot we were in Austria," said Georges laughing.
+
+The bays flew like birds along the avenue of ancient poplars. The
+sun shone on their trim, plain harness, upon their glossy hides;
+white and blue butterflies were fluttering above the earliest
+wayside-flowers. A few minutes later Oswald drew up before the station,
+built Austrian-wise, after the ugly fashion of a Swiss cottage.
+
+"Sapristi! He too is going to the election," exclaimed Georges, as he
+observed Capriani's equipage.
+
+"You may be very sure he will not hide his light under a bushel,"
+grumbled Truyn.
+
+"And I quite forgot to have a railway coupé reserved for us. Did you
+remember it, uncle?" asked Oswald.
+
+Time passed. Oswald's servant hurried off to get the tickets, and when
+the gentlemen went to take their places, they found that there were but
+two first-class coupé's, one occupied by a lady with her invalid
+daughter, the other by the Caprianis, father and son. What was to be
+done? It was most vexatious; the three gentlemen, with their servants
+bearing portmanteaux and dust-coats, the station master and the
+conductor, all stood on the platform in consultation, while the train
+patiently waited.
+
+The third signal whistled, Conte Capriani appeared at the door of his
+coupé with a smile of invitation.
+
+Georges calmly shifted his cigar from one corner to the other of his
+mouth.
+
+"Better open an empty second-class for us," said Truyn frowning.
+
+"I have none quite empty," the conductor explained; "but this gentleman
+will get out at the third station."
+
+"It is the cattle-dealer from Kamnitz," whispered Oswald with a little
+grimace, after glancing through the window of the coupé. But it made no
+difference to his uncle who immediately sprang in and took his seat,
+followed by the young men. What if the man were a cattle-dealer? Truyn
+remembered having seen him before, and at once entered into
+conversation with him upon the price of meat, a conversation in which
+Oswald, remarkably well up as he always was in all agricultural
+matters, took part. The cattle-dealer alighted at his destination,
+greatly impressed by the affability of the noblemen, and convinced that
+all he had heard of their arrogance was false.
+
+"If the coupé only did not smell so insufferably of warm leather!"
+exclaimed Truyn after the dealer's departure, "and ugh! the man's cigar
+was positively--"
+
+"It often happens now-a-days," interposed Georges, "that a gentleman is
+forced to travel second-class to avoid a stock-jobber. The question in
+my mind is, when will our civilization be so far advanced that the
+stock-jobber will travel second-class to avoid one of us."
+
+"We shall never live to see that," said Oswald.
+
+"The insolence of those people waxes gigantic," said Georges.
+
+"It is our own fault; if we had not danced hand-in-hand with them
+before the golden calf, they would not now be so presuming," observed
+Truyn, "remember --73."
+
+"Hm,--our worship of that idol showed simplicity, to say the least,"
+remarked Georges, "the golden calf returned so much gratitude for our
+homage."
+
+"So much gratitude," growled Truyn. "I did not share in the worship,
+but I do in the disgrace!--But enough of that! Can Capriani vote? He
+has not owned Schneeburg for a year yet."
+
+"No, but has he not another estate in Northern Bohemia?" asked Georges.
+
+"You are right, he has," said Truyn. "I suppose he will vote with the
+Liberals."
+
+"In all probability!" replied Oswald. "_Tous les républicains ne sont
+pas canaille, mais toute la canaille est républicaine_."
+
+"I do not think that Capriani openly ranks among the Liberals,"
+remarked Georges, "I know of a certainty that not long ago he placed
+large sums of money for charitable purposes at the disposal of several
+ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain."
+
+"That was when he was a candidate for the Jockey Club," rejoined
+Oswald. "I heard about that. Ever since he was black-balled there, he
+sings a different song. He is organizing Liberal schools at Schneeburg,
+and has a great deal to do with universal enlightenment."
+
+"Confound universal enlightenment!" railed Truyn.
+
+Oswald shrugged his shoulders, "I should not shed a tear for it," said
+he, "in the first ardour of my charitable schemes I took some interest
+in it, but I soon detected the wretched business, masked by that
+high-sounding phrase;--it means universal distribution of rancid scraps
+of learning sure to provoke an indigestion which as surely will develop
+into an enlargement of the spleen. That kind of knowledge never widens
+the horizon of the masses--it does nothing, except pick holes in their
+illusions."
+
+"Widen the horizon--pretty stuff that!" said Truyn, the reactionary.
+"In my opinion a contracted horizon is the condition of happiness for
+the masses."
+
+"My dear fellow, if you attempt to advocate such views ...." began
+Georges, half laughing, half indignant.
+
+"My views, remember," interrupted Truyn, "are the result of years of
+experience; I have lived here all my life, and know the people better
+than any freshly imported Herr Capriani, blown hither, Heaven only
+knows whence. What we want is a contented, well-fed, warmly-clad
+people, that will play merrily with the children on Saturday evening,
+go piously to church on Sunday morning, and not discuss too much on
+Sunday afternoon."
+
+"Yes, of course," assented Georges. "What you want, first and foremost,
+is a people that won't disturb your peaceful enjoyment of life. There's
+no denying that."
+
+"I am perfectly open to conviction," asserted Truyn with dignity. "As
+soon as you prove to me that these disturbers of the public peace
+promote the happiness of the masses, I will ground arms before them."
+
+"Happiness!--I don't believe that those people care as much as they
+pretend for the happiness of the masses," said Oswald, looking up from
+his note-book in which he had begun to scribble rapidly. "Happiness is
+conservative--they would gain nothing from that. As far as I can see,
+all they want is to rouse the discontent of the people by constant
+irritation," and he turned to his note-book again. His scribbling did
+not seem to run as smoothly as before.
+
+"There you are right," agreed Truyn. "Their aim is to arouse the
+discontent of the people--the discontent of the masses is the tool of
+their entire party, and they will go on sharpening it until some fine
+day they'll cut their fingers off with it, and serve them right."
+
+"Decry the degenerate portion of the species as much as you choose,"
+replied Georges, "you cannot but acknowledge that modern democracy has
+been of immense service to mankind."
+
+"_Verité de monsieur de La Palisse_," muttered Oswald, without looking
+up.
+
+"Don't talk to me of your 'modern democracy,' I made its acquaintance
+in France--this 'modern democracy' of yours," thundered Truyn in a
+rage. He drew a deep, shuddering breath, lighted a cigar and gazed out
+of the coupé-window, apparently to allay his political anxiety by the
+sight of his dearly-loved fatherland.
+
+He did not succeed, however, for before a minute had passed, he turned
+to Georges again and exclaimed angrily, "How delightful to contemplate
+the next generation; what a charming prospect! A people all ignorant
+atheists. I ask no severer punishment for the agitators who have
+wrought the mischief in this generation, than to be obliged to govern
+the next.
+
+"I suppose they themselves would desire nothing better," said Oswald
+smiling.
+
+"That's perfectly true; all they are struggling for, is power,"
+muttered Truyn.
+
+"Excuse me, my dear friend; but what are you struggling for?" asked
+Georges.
+
+"What are _we_ struggling for," repeated Truyn, looking at him
+compassionately, "what are we struggling for?--I will tell you;--for
+the Emperor and our fatherland, which means for order and justice,
+for the dignity of the throne, for the sanctity of home, for the
+fostering of beauty and nobility, for all the wealth of human
+achievement which we have inherited from the past, and ought to
+bequeath to the future--in a word, Georges,--we are protecting
+civilization."
+
+"Bursts of applause from the Right--aha--congratulations to the orator
+from the Left!" said Georges laughing, then turning to Oswald who was
+still scribbling, he observed, "I rather think you have been taking
+short-hand notes of your uncle's speech. We will send them to Otto
+Ilsenbergh, he will be delighted."
+
+"Nonsense!" said Oswald. "I am composing a telegram."
+
+"In verse?" Georges asked innocently.
+
+"Georges! As head of the family I desire to be treated with more
+respect," said Oswald, laughing.
+
+"Oh, it occurred to me, only because you were making so many
+corrections," rejoined Georges.
+
+"The thing is quite difficult--it must be so worded that Gabrielle
+shall understand it,--and the telegraph operators shall not; I cannot
+manage it."
+
+"Suppose you refresh your powers with a glass of sherry," proposed
+Georges, taking down an appetizing lunch-basket from the rack above his
+head, and drawing forth a bottle and three wine-glasses.
+
+The wine had a decidedly soporific effect upon the three travellers.
+Truyn's political excitement was soothed, and after drinking to a
+better future, all three leaned back in silence.
+
+Truyn pondered upon the shy, timid confession that his wife had made to
+him that morning early, very early, as they were sauntering together in
+the park, while the sun's first slant rays were breaking through the
+shrubbery, and the morning-dew was still glittering on the meadows.
+"The whole earth seems bathed in tears of delicious joy," his young
+wife had whispered, and then through her own happy tears she had begged
+him to give her a 'really large sum' from her own money that she might
+make some of the poor people on the estate happy too.
+
+Gradually his thoughts wandered, and grew vague; the sounds of railway
+bells, and the shrill whistle of the engine, the grating voices of
+conductors, and the monotonous whirr of wheels mingled, subsided, and
+died away; his latest impressions faded, and, instead of the green park
+of Rautschin, a dim Roman street rises upon his mental vision, with a
+procession of masked torch-bearers accompanying a coffin;--the picture
+changes, the Roman street is transformed to a lofty hall so tragically
+solemn that the sunbeams lose their smile as they enter the high
+windows and glide pale and wan through the twilight gloom to die at the
+feet of ancient statues. He looks about him, lost in surprise and
+wondering where is he?--in the tomb of the Medici?--or among the
+monuments of the melancholy gray church of Santa Croce? No, he suddenly
+recollects it is the Bargello, and yon white marble, that gleams
+through the dim religious light in such lifelike, or rather deathlike,
+beauty, revealing, as it lies outstretched, such clear-cut, nay, such
+sharp outlines, and the noble attenuation of youth, eager and fiery, is
+Michael Angelo's 'dead Adonis,' the ideal embodiment of the springtime
+of manhood crushed in its bloom. Anon vapour curls upward, and the
+crimson flicker of torches plays over the white statue, the masked
+torch-bearers stand around it, a wailing chant echoes through the
+hall--who is it lying there listlessly, with the ineffable charm of a
+fair young form, which death has suddenly snatched, before the poison
+of disease has wasted and deformed it?--
+
+Truyn started, broad awake, every pulse throbbing.--Merciful God! how
+could he dream anything so horrible! Oswald sat opposite, with eyes
+half-closed, an extinguished cigarette in his hand. His face wore the
+expression of absolute content which is so often strangely seen on the
+face of the dead and which none except the dead ever wear, save the
+few, who, by God's grace, have been permitted to behold Heaven upon
+earth. Truyn could not away with a sensation of painful anxiety.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, Ossi, open your eyes!" he exclaimed.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Oswald.
+
+"Nothing," said Truyn, "only...." at that moment the train stopped.
+
+"Pemik!" shouted the conductor, "ten minute's stop," and then opening
+the coupé door he politely informed the travellers that another coupé
+was now at their service.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Pernik is the junction of several railway lines, trains coming from two
+separate watering-places connect here with trains from Prague, and set
+free the travellers who have tried the virtue of the various baths.
+Ladies with faded faces, and bouquets of faded flowers, were wandering
+about looking for hand-bags gone astray or for waiting-maids, men were
+busily munching, glad to forget over their first sandwich, the dietetic
+limitations to which they had been forced to submit while undergoing a
+course of the baths; locomotives were hissing and puffing like monsters
+out of breath after a race; the sunshine glittered on the flat roofs of
+the railway-carriages, the whole atmosphere reeked with coal-dust, and
+hot iron; there was the usual bustle of hand-cars piled with luggage
+pushed along the rails, of the shifting of cars on the tracks, and of
+vendors of fresh water and Pernik beer, with newspaper boys loudly
+extolling their various wares.
+
+Escorted by the obsequious conductor, and followed by the servants, the
+three conservatives were making their way through the hurly-burly when
+they nearly ran against a young man, who, with his hands in the pockets
+of his rough coat, was striding through the crowd, never turning to the
+right or the left, in a line as straight as that of the railway between
+St. Petersburg and Moscow.
+
+"Pistasch!" exclaimed Oswald.
+
+"Ah, I thought I should meet you somewhere."
+
+All began to talk at once, when suddenly Pistasch turned, and said,
+"Good-day!" to Conte Capriani, who was coming towards him with extended
+hand, and an air of great cordiality.
+
+Oswald and Truyn held themselves very erect, looked straight before
+them, and, passing Pistasch and Capriani, entered their coupé.
+
+"I do not understand Kamenz," said Truyn, after they had installed
+themselves comfortably, and Georges had called from the window for a
+glass of Pernik beer. Oswald, his elbows propped on the frame of his
+window, was taking a prolonged observation of the interview between
+Capriani and Pistasch Kamenz.
+
+The third bell rang--the speculator and the nobleman shook hands and
+separated; then Pistasch approached the coupé where sat the three
+conservatives, and asked, "Any room in there for me?"
+
+"Room enough, but we're not sure that we ought to let you come with us,
+you renegade!" said Oswald, unlatching the coupé door. "Are you too
+going to Prague for the election?"
+
+"No," said Pistach lazily, "not if I know it, in this heat. I am going
+to the races--but I shall vote."
+
+"Such indifference, nowadays, is culpable," said Truyn gravely. "This
+is a serious time."
+
+"Bah! it is all one to me, who goes to the Reichsrath;--moreover,
+whoever he may be, he exists principally for the benefit of the
+newspapers," replied Pistasch apathetically.
+
+Only a few years previously, Truyn himself had defined the Reichsrath,
+as a 'circus for political acrobats'--but his political views were now
+daily gaining in consistency.
+
+An interest in politics is usually aroused in men of his stamp, when
+they are between forty and fifty years of age--at a time when the taste
+for champagne begins to yield to that for claret. Almost all men are
+thus aroused at two different periods of life; in early youth and in
+late middle age.
+
+That which ten years before Truyn had ridiculed, was now invested for
+him with a sacred earnestness.
+
+"We must be true to our convictions for our country's sake!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"Has any one really any convictions,--political ones I mean?" asked
+Pistasch, "my conviction is that it is all up with us, but the country
+will last as long as I shall--after that I take no interest in it."
+
+"And is this your latest creed?" asked Truyn indignantly.
+
+"It is a very time-honoured creed, uncle," said Georges, "if I am not
+mistaken it was the fundamental article of faith of that lugubrious
+Solomon in a full-bottomed wig, who played such unholy pranks in
+France, under Voltaire's reign. '_Apres nous le déluge!_'"
+
+"Louis Fifteenth, do you mean?" asked Truyn.
+
+But Pistasch observed, "You have become fearfully erudite while you
+have been abroad, Georges. I fancy you are preparing to apply for a
+professorship of history, in the event of the social cataclysm that
+seems at hand."
+
+All the while the train is rushing onwards, past pastures seamed by
+narrow ditches, past turnip-fields, past villages with ragged thatched
+roofs, and tumble-down picket fences upon which red and blue garments
+are hanging to dry, while lolling over them are sunflowers, with yellow
+haloes encircling their black velvet faces. Nowhere is there a trace of
+romantic exuberance, everything tells of sober, practical thrift.
+
+A white, dusty road winds among slender plum-trees, and along it is
+jolting a small waggon, drawn by a pair of thirsty dogs, their tongues
+hanging from their mouths; a labourer, half through his swath in a
+clover-field, fascinated by the whizzing train, stops mowing and stares
+with open mouth and eyes.
+
+Truyn has become absorbed in the contents of 'The Press' which he holds
+stretched wide in both hands. Oswald, Georges, and Pistasch have
+improvised a table out of a wrap laid across their knees, and are
+indulging in a game of cards.
+
+"What's the news, uncle?" Oswald asked as he shuffled the cards.
+
+"The authorities have forbidden the importation of rags at any Austrian
+port; and a Jew has been butchered somewhere in Russia," Pistasch
+replied incontinently. Truyn paid no heed to Oswald's question but all
+at once he dropped the newspaper.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the young men.
+
+"Wips Seinsberg has died suddenly!" said Truyn.
+
+"Poor devil!" said Oswald, with about as much sympathy as we feel for
+people not particularly congenial. "He was a good fellow, but somewhat
+vacillating! Ever since his marriage I have seen very little of him."
+
+"Was he married?" asked Truyn, who, during his stay abroad, had lost
+sight of Wips Seinsberg.
+
+"He married into trade," Oswald said curtly.
+
+It is odd; elsewhere the daughters of tradesmen marry into the
+nobility;--in Austria the sons of the nobility marry into trade!
+
+"Into trade?" Truyn repeated slowly, and interrogatively.
+
+"What did he die of?" asked Pistasch.
+
+"It does not say," replied Truyn re-reading the notice in the
+newspaper.
+
+"Hm!--that looks suspicious," said Pistasch.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The election is over. Pistasch has shaken hands with all the
+middle-class land-owners, and has done wonders with that haughty
+condescension of his wherewith he was wont to charm the hearts of such
+people. Truyn has been enlightened by his political friends as to the
+state of Bohemian affairs, and Oswald has been cordially congratulated
+by every one. He is one of those universally popular men before whom
+even envy and malice lower their weapons. His career has been hitherto
+like the triumphal march of a young king--let him but appear, and lo!
+an illumination, and flowers strewed before him.
+
+After the election Truyn went to dine at the chief restaurant in
+Prague with some friends whom he had met for the first time for
+years;--Georges, Pistasch, and Oswald with the indifference of youth
+took their lunch at 'The Black Horse,' whither they went from the
+station. Then Georges departed to revive old associations in various
+quarters of ancient Prague. Oswald's father had been wont to pass his
+winters in Vienna, but his younger, poorer brother had his winter
+quarters in the comparatively humble Moldavian town. Georges looked up
+the confectioner who had been his first creditor, wandered dreamily
+through the gray precincts of the public school where he had studied
+for two years, after his tutors could do nothing more for him, walked
+across the picturesque Carl's bridge to the Lesser-town, the hoary old
+Lesser-town, the home of the aristocracy of Prague, cowering in pious
+veneration at the feet of the Kaiserburg, like a grey-haired child who
+still believes in fairy stories. There, in one of the angular,
+irregular squares, just opposite two tall narrow church windows, stood
+the small palace where Georges passed his boyhood, and which his father
+finally sold to a wealthy vinegar manufacturer. He scarcely recognised
+it again. The old stucco ornamentation had been painted a staring red;
+and a dealer in hams and sausages had his shop in the lower story.
+
+"_Tempera mutantur!_" muttered Georges.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+In a spacious room, tolerably cool, the shades all drawn down, the
+furniture consisting of dim misty mirrors in shabby gilt frames, of
+cupboards with brass hinges, and of green velvet chairs and sofas,
+Oswald lay back, in an arm-chair, laughing heartily at Pistasch's
+account of a late adventure.
+
+Pistasch went to one of the three windows, and drawing the shade half
+up looked out into the street.
+
+The front of 'The Black Horse' looks out on the _Graben_, the _Corso_
+of Prague.
+
+All whom cruel fate had compelled to remain in town during the
+intolerable heat of the season, were lounging about in the late
+afternoon upon the heated pavement of the square.
+
+Students with the genuine High-German swagger, over-dressed misses,
+round-shouldered government clerks, a wretched poodle scratching at his
+muzzle, an officer with jingling sabre, hack drivers, dozing peacefully
+on their boxes while their horses, with forelegs wide apart and heads
+in their nose-bags, dreamed of the 'good old times' when they caracoled
+beneath the spurs of gay young cavalry officers,--those 'good old
+times' whose chief charm for hack horses as for mortals, may perhaps
+consist in the fact that they are irrevocably past.
+
+The sultry heat beats down on all, debilitating, oppressive.
+
+"How long have you known that Capriani," Oswald asked his light-hearted
+friend, after a pause.
+
+"I really cannot tell you," was the reply, "he once did me a favour
+without knowing me, except by sight, and then--then he came to me one
+day with some trifling affairs that he desired I should arrange for
+him, and referred to the former kindness he had shown me."
+
+"And ever since then you have been upon friendly terms with him?"
+
+"Not quite all that," replied Pistasch, shrugging his shoulders, "but
+what would you have? He consults me about his horses--his ambition is
+to win at the Derby;--and I consult him about my investments, the
+purchase of stock, etc."
+
+"And each overreaches the other?" said Oswald, smiling.
+
+"Up to this time I have the advantage," affirmed Pistasch, "and I have
+a prospect too, of a sinecure as the President of the Grünwald-Leebach
+stock company."
+
+"With which of course you will have nothing to do except to inspire the
+public with confidence, and rake in money," said Oswald.
+
+"Incidentally," Pistasch rejoined calmly.
+
+Oswald drummed upon the arms of his chair, sitting erect, and looking
+very grave.
+
+"Take care, Pistasch; 'those who lie down with dogs, are sure to get up
+with fleas.'"
+
+"You are a reactionary martinet," growled Pistasch. "Am I the first to
+associate with speculators? Barenfeld, Calmonsky, Hermsdorf--are all
+men very different from myself, but you see their names at the head of
+all kinds of banks and stock companies."
+
+"Unfortunately;" said Oswald, "that charlatan of a Capriani has
+infected you all--you all want to learn from that gentleman the secret
+of manufacturing gold. But you will learn nothing, and will inevitably
+all burn your fingers. I should think you might take warning from poor
+old Count Malzin."
+
+"Oh, Malzin was such an unpractical man, he looked at everything from
+an ideal point of view," replied Pistasch.
+
+"So much the better!" exclaimed Oswald eagerly. "That was why
+throughout the whole business it was his property alone that was
+sacrificed. You cannot imagine the harm done by this dabbling in
+speculation. It undermines our whole social order. We are at best not
+much else than romantic ruins. So long as the ruins can succeed in
+inspiring the public with respect, just so long they may remain
+standing. But let them once lose their prestige, and they will be
+regarded as useless rubbish, and as such be cleared away as soon as
+possible. What preserves us is a strict sense of honour, and a
+contempt for ignoble methods of money getting. Pride without a
+chivalric back-ground is but a shabby characteristic, and if ...."
+
+Some one knocked at the door, and the waiter entering handed Oswald a
+visiting-card.
+
+"_Le comte_ Alfred de Capriani," read Oswald, "it must be for you," he
+said contemptuously, without noticing the few words written under the
+name, as he tossed the card to Pistasch.
+
+"No," said the latter, "it is for you--look there--read,--'begs Count
+Lodrin for a brief interview.'"
+
+"Extraordinary presumption!" grumbled Oswald, and then, with a shrug,
+he told the waiter to show the Conte in.
+
+"You consent to receive him?" asked Pistasch.
+
+"Good Heavens, yes!" replied Oswald, smiling, "he has just done me a
+kindness, my dear Pistasch, and has come for his pay. There are people
+who play the usurer with their kindnesses as well as with their money.
+I will tell you the story by-and-by."
+
+"Very well. Adieu, for the present; in half an hour I'll come and take
+you to the theatre;--she's not bad,--Giuletta as _Gretchen_."
+
+And Pistasch departed; a minute afterward Capriani entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+There are two ways of manifesting haughtiness,--that of Count Pistasch,
+and that of Oswald. If Pistasch had to receive an obnoxious visitor, he
+kept his cigar in his mouth, and his hands in his pockets;--Oswald, on
+the other hand, at such times observed the most marked and the most
+frigid politeness.
+
+He received Capriani with a slight inclination of the head, and the
+conventional form of greeting, invited him to be seated, and took a
+chair opposite, naturally supposing that the Conte, with business-like
+promptitude, would immediately begin to speak of the purpose of his
+visit;--but no!--the Conte remained mute, only rivetting his large eyes
+upon the young man. Why should Oswald find those eyes so annoying? How
+came it that he seemed to have seen them before in some familiar face?
+There was nothing bad in them--on the contrary at that moment they
+expressed only intense admiration, an expression, however, by no means
+to Oswald's taste. There might be reasons why he should condescend to
+discuss business-matters with Conte Capriani, but he thought it
+entirely unnecessary to subject himself to the Conte's admiration. He
+therefore broke the silence.
+
+"You have done me a great favour," he began drily, "I shall be glad to
+show my gratitude for it."
+
+"Ah, such a trifle is not worth mentioning," said Capriani. "I was
+exceedingly delighted to have a chance to testify the cordial regard
+that I have always entertained for you."
+
+"Quite insane," thought the young man. Then aloud. "I confess that this
+regard is rather incomprehensible to me,--moreover,--I believe you
+wished to speak with me upon business."
+
+"Certainly!" replied Capriani, "but the business was merely a
+pretext,--imagine it,--a pretext for me,--a business-man _par
+excellence_--to obtain an opportunity of conveying my personal
+sentiments ...."
+
+"The obtrusiveness of these creatures passes all belief," thought
+Oswald. "I beg you," he said, "to take into consideration the fact that
+my time is,----unfortunately, not at my own disposal, and that
+consequently it would be well to come to the point. I think I can guess
+the purpose of your visit. Count Malzin informed me not long ago of
+your wishes. They are, so I understand, that I should give my support
+in an application to the government for a railway franchise, or rather
+that the plan of the railway, already projected, should be modified to
+meet your requirements--am I right?"
+
+"A trifle,--a trifle," said Capriani taking a compendious map of
+Bohemia out of his pocket and spreading it out upon the table between
+Oswald and himself. "The projected track lies here--and here," he
+explained drawing his finger along the map.
+
+With something of a frown Oswald attentively followed the course of
+that pudgy, sallow forefinger, saying in an undertone, "Pernik,
+Zwilnek, Minkau,--that track seems to me entirely to conform to the
+present pressing need of the country,--will you now show me the
+alterations that you desire."
+
+Capriani's forefinger began to move again, "Tesin, Schneeburg,
+Barenfeld."
+
+Oswald's face grew dark. "That track would be very disadvantageous for
+the X---- district," he observed.
+
+"You have estates in X----" said Capriani hastily, and imprudently.
+Cautious and diplomatic as he was in business, his caution could go no
+further than his comprehension of human nature. The circle of his
+experience had hitherto comprised only those human weaknesses in
+manipulating which he had always shown such consummate skill. He had no
+faith in genuine disinterestedness; he held it to be hypocrisy, or, at
+best, only traditional habit,--aristocratic usage. He had no idea of
+how his words grated upon Oswald's sensitive ear. "You have estates in
+X----, Herr Count."
+
+Oswald's lips curled indignantly. "That seems to me a secondary
+consideration," he rejoined sharply.
+
+"Not at all," asserted Capriani, "I would not for the world run counter
+to your interests, I have them almost as near at heart as my own...."
+
+"That really is...." Oswald began to mutter angrily between his
+teeth,--and then controlling his impatience by an effort, he said
+coldly, lightly tapping the map as he spoke. "A little while ago you
+did me a favour, and it would be a satisfaction to me to testify my
+appreciation of your courtesy as soon as possible, but I think your
+projected alteration of the railway very disadvantageous for the
+country. However, I am quite ready to consult an expert."
+
+The blood of the Cr[oe]sus tingled to his very finger ends. There
+was something profoundly humiliating in Oswald's pale proud face. He
+did not comprehend the young man's moral point of view, he perceived
+only the haughtiness that rang in his words, and it aroused his
+antagonism. Suddenly he remembered,--and there was a kind of bliss in
+the thought,--the pecuniary embarrassments in which Oswald was probably
+involved. This was the only ground upon which he could show
+superiority, and make the young man aware of it. "Consult an expert? an
+empty formality!" he said in a changed, harsh voice.
+
+"Let us be frank--the interests of the country in this whole affair are
+of very little consequence--private interests are at stake--yours and
+mine; I grant that the X---- district will be damaged by the new track,
+but on the other hand Tornow wilt gain immensely. And such trifles are
+not to be despised even by a Count Lodrin,--the track passes
+principally over very unproductive land in your estates my dear Count.
+You have only to name your price for that land, and I am entirely at
+your service."
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence. An angry gleam flashed from
+Oswald's eyes as he fixed them on the Conte.
+
+The ticking of the two men's watches could almost be heard, the
+lounging steps of the passers-by in the street below were distinctly
+audible. At last Oswald said contemptuously and clearly: "The sale of
+my pastures is not of the slightest importance to me in comparison with
+public interests. Moreover, we, you and I, do not speak the same
+language, we might talk together a long time and fail to understand
+each other. Therefore it seems useless to prolong this conversation."
+With which he arose.
+
+Capriani, however, did not stir, but calmly returned the young man's
+look. Something like triumphant scorn, something that was almost a
+menace shone in his eyes.
+
+"You refuse then to speak a word to the ministry in favour of my
+scheme?" he asked slowly and with a sneer.
+
+"Decidedly," replied Oswald.
+
+With head slightly thrown back, twisting his watch chain around his
+forefinger, he looked down at the Cr[oe]sus. He was one of the few to
+whom haughtiness is becoming.
+
+Was it possible that Capriani, the least imaginative, the most
+avaricious of men, could succumb to this personal charm?
+
+The Conte suddenly arose, gathered up the map, crushed it together, and
+dashing it on the floor, stamped on it. "I could carry it out, and it
+is my favourite scheme," he cried, "but what of that, I give it up,
+Alfred Stein can do as he chooses. I throw away millions for your sake!
+For your sake, Count Oswald!"
+
+His agitation was terrible and extreme, as he held out both hands to
+the young man.
+
+Oswald angrily retreated a step. Had the man escaped from a lunatic
+asylum?
+
+Just then the door opened.
+
+"Well, Ossi?" Pistasch called.--"Ah!"--perceiving the Conte--"beg
+pardon for intruding."
+
+"Not at all," said Oswald decisively, without looking at Capriani, "we
+have finished."
+
+The Conte bowed and withdrew. But he turned in the doorway and said,
+"Might I beg you, Herr Count, to carry my remembrances to your honoured
+mother. For although she does not know Conte Capriani--she will surely
+be able to recall Doctor Alfred Stein." Whereupon he disappeared.
+
+Oswald went to a marble table whereon stood a caraffe of water, and as
+he took it up he met his own glance in the mirror hanging above the
+table. A shudder crept icily over him. He poured out a glass of water,
+and drank it at a draught.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Pistasch.
+
+"Nothing," Oswald replied slowly, and almost dreamily. "Talking with
+that--that scoundrel has agitated me. I feel as if I had just got rid
+of some loathsome reptile."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+"Is smoking allowed, I should like to know?"
+
+Three times Pistasch made this impertinent little remark as he gazed
+about him in 'The Temple of National Art.' It was a temporary temple,
+neither unsuitable, nor wanting in taste, but built in the rapid,
+superficial manner of a circus, constructed over night as it were, and
+it was now filled to overflowing with Bohemian lovers of music.
+
+The four gentlemen were sitting in a proscenium box; Truyn and Georges
+in front, Pistasch and Oswald behind them. The opera was Faust, the
+_mise en scène_ was rather primitive, and the tenor had a cold; but the
+principal part was sung by an Italian prima donna who had not only a
+magnificent voice, but also a pair of uncommonly fine eyes.
+
+It was during the third _entr'acte_ after the cantatrice had been
+enthusiastically applauded that Pistasch allowed himself the foregoing
+impertinent observation.
+
+"Do you want to be turned out?" asked Georges.
+
+"I spoke quite innocently, and seriously," said Pistasch.
+
+Immediately afterwards he recognised in the next box a young man as a
+certain Doctor of Law, with whom he had been associated a few years
+before on the committee of a charity ball. He extended his hand to him
+round the front of the box, asked respectfully after the health of a
+deaf aunt, and after a talented sister, and even made inquiries about a
+cross cat, a pet of the doctor's, all in faultless idiomatic Bohemian,
+thus establishing his reputation as a thoroughly genial and national
+nobleman.
+
+Truyn looked extremely dignified, repeatedly expressed his great
+pleasure in the progress made by his beloved countrymen, in the course
+of the last fifteen years, as well as in the advancement of the
+national cause. Once during the conversation he attempted to make use
+of the Bohemian idiom, but he only excited the merriment of his
+auditors.
+
+Oswald was pale and silent.
+
+"What is the matter with you, my boy?" asked Truyn, observing with some
+anxiety, his weary air, and the dark rings round his eyes.
+
+"I am not quite up to the mark," said Oswald.
+
+"I hope you're not going to be ill," remarked Truyn.
+
+"Bah! He hasn't yet recovered from his conversation with Capriani,"
+said Pistasch. "For my part I cannot understand how you can be in the
+slightest degree affected by what such a man as that says or leaves
+unsaid."
+
+"We are not all such philosophers as you," Georges observed, glancing
+anxiously at his cousin.
+
+The door of the box opened--a slender, dark-complexioned man entered.
+"Good evening! How are you?"
+
+"It was Sempaly, younger brother of Prince Sempaly, to attend whose
+marriage he had just returned from the East. He was much tanned and his
+sharp features wore an air of languid weariness. Prince Sempaly had a
+few days previously married Nini Gatinsky. The new-comer was warmly
+welcomed, and then, of course, inquiries were made concerning the
+bridal pair, Truyn declaring his pleasure in their marriage.
+
+"It pleases me too, exceedingly," said Sempaly, with more warmth than
+he was wont to display. "They are both to be congratulated. Nini was
+always a dear creature, and she is prettier now than ever; and a nobler
+character than my brother's I have never known."
+
+"One thing however surprises me," observed Pistasch, the indiscreet,
+looking inquisitively at Sempaly, "your brother has been a widower for
+five years; it cannot be that he has spent all that time in bewailing
+the loss of the Princess. Why did he not grasp his happiness before?"
+
+"I cannot enlighten you on that point," replied Sempaly with a shrug.
+
+But Truyn said, smiling, "Perhaps it did not depend altogether upon
+Oscar; Nini may possibly have had a voice in the matter."
+
+"You too are going to have a wedding soon," said Sempaly, apparently
+desirous of changing the subject. "How these young people are growing
+up! If the resemblance to his mother were not so striking, I should
+hardly recognise your future son-in-law. Let me congratulate you," and
+he held out his hand to Oswald, "congratulate you most sincerely. And
+how are you at home?" he added, turning suddenly to Truyn.
+
+"All well," Truyn replied a little stiffly.
+
+"Pray, carry to your wife and daughter the regards of--one who shall be
+nameless," said Sempaly with bitterness.
+
+A short pause ensued; then he began, "What do you think of Seinsberg's
+suicide?"
+
+"Suicide?" exclaimed Truyn.
+
+"Did you not know it?" asked Sempaly.
+
+"I suspected something of the kind," said Pistasch.
+
+"What was the cause of it?" asked Truyn.
+
+"Too intimate an acquaintance with the Conte Capriani?" surmised
+Pistasch.
+
+"You have about hit the nail on the head, Pistasch," said Sempaly,
+turning his back to the stage and speaking towards the interior of the
+box. "It is terrible to think how many of us have fallen victims in
+quick succession to the rage for speculation."
+
+"It is all over with us!" said Pistasch.
+
+"Do have done with that eternal refrain of yours,"' said Truyn
+indignantly.
+
+"Well, Georges agrees with me, and even Ossi seems to be infected with
+our disheartening ideas," rejoined Pistasch, "he declared to-day that
+we were nothing but romantic ruins."
+
+"Ah, the ruins in Austria stand firm;" rejoined Truyn, always the same
+reactionary idealist, "of course we must consider how to adapt the
+ancient structure to the needs of the age."
+
+"Do you think so?" said Sempaly, twirling his moustache. "Would you
+turn the Coliseum into a gas-works? For my part I am not greatly in
+favour of the practical adaptation of historical monuments. Bah! leave
+us as we are! The ruins will remain standing for some time yet, and in
+virtue of their time-worn uselessness, will manage to overawe the
+practical modern architecture that is springing up all around them,
+until the next earthquake, and then--crash--" he made a quick,
+characteristic gesture--"and after the downfall those who carp at us
+the most now will perceive how large a share of poetry and civilisation
+lies beneath the wreck. It is all over with us, but what is to come
+hereafter?"
+
+"What is to come hereafter? That is easy enough to foretell;" said
+Georges quietly, "the universal dominion of the Caprianis!"
+
+"You do Capriani by far too much honour," rejoined Truyn.
+
+"Do not be too sure," said Sempaly, "he is more dangerous than you
+imagine. It makes me fairly shudder to see how he encroaches upon us,
+how he hates us, and how much mischief he can do us."
+
+"I wish I knew how he contrived to scrape together so much money in so
+short a time," sighed Pistasch plaintively.
+
+"I have heard that like Sulla, and various other great men, he owes his
+rapid success to the fostering protection of the other sex;--they say
+he has had immense good fortune in that direction, and in spheres where
+it was least to be expected," said Sempaly.
+
+"What! such a low cad as he!" The elegant Pistasch shrugged his
+shoulders incredulously.
+
+"Well--" Sempaly gazed into space in a characteristic way; then still
+twirling his moustache he said with a melancholy cynicism all his own:
+"There are certain clumsy night-moths who are strangely skilled in
+brushing the dew from weary flowers in sultry nights."
+
+Oswald, who had been bestowing but a languid attention upon
+the conversation, now exclaimed angrily, "I detest such vague
+imputations,--no one has any right to sully the fame of a number of
+unknown women by a suspicion that--that--" Confused by Sempaly's
+surprised, searching glance, he stopped short.
+
+"What is he thinking of?" asked Sempaly, looking round at the others.
+
+"A betrothed lover cannot tolerate any aspersion cast upon the fair
+sex," said Georges.
+
+"_Qu'a cela ne tienne_," rejoined Sempaly, "the betrothed of Gabrielle
+Truyn ought to be above such sensitiveness. Gabrielle comes from the
+corner of the earth, which Love Divine sheltered beneath angels' wings,
+when the devil showered his poison over all creation. Happy he who
+meets with such a girl!"
+
+"You do not know her," said Truyn, whose eyes, nevertheless, sparkled
+with gratified paternal pride.
+
+"I knew her as a child," said Sempaly slowly, "and I know who completed
+her education."
+
+For a moment they were all silent, and then Truyn began, "I must tell
+you a delicious bit of gossip, Sempaly;--only fancy, in the spring, in
+Paris, Capriani, one fine day, sent that goose, Zoë Melkweyser, to sue
+for Gabrielle's hand! What do you think of that?"
+
+"Incredible!" exclaimed Sempaly.
+
+"Was it not?" said Truyn, who took special delight in recounting this
+tale, and turning to Oswald, he went on, "Our Gabrielle and a son of
+Capriani,--was there ever such a joke?"
+
+But Oswald was silent.
+
+"You seem inclined to take your rival extremely tragically," rallied
+Pistasch.
+
+"This is the tenth time, at least, that I have heard the story," said
+Oswald angrily.
+
+"You'll have an irritable son-in-law, Truyn, at all events," interposed
+Sempaly with a sneer.
+
+At this moment Pistasch, whose rage for popularity was always on the
+alert, called out over the heads of Sempaly and Truyn, "Good evening,"
+to a tall, red-haired young man who had slowly made his way to the
+front of the pit. With delight in his eyes and a succession of nods,
+the red-head acknowledged the greeting.
+
+"Who is that?" asked Georges.
+
+"The surveyor's clerk who assisted at the polls to-day--an old
+acquaintance of mine," said Pistasch.
+
+Oswald's glance fell upon the red-head. He had recognised in the man at
+the polls the same whom he had struck in the face with his riding-whip,
+in the dingy little inn-parlour. The encounter in the morning had made
+no impression upon him, but now....
+
+"Good Heavens, how ill you look!" exclaimed Truyn.
+
+"I feel wretchedly," said Oswald in a forced voice, putting his hand to
+his head, "do not let me disturb you, I will go home."
+
+"You make me anxious, my boy," said Truyn, "wait a moment, and I will
+go with you."
+
+"No, no, pray uncle, it is really not worth the trouble, I can easily
+find a fiacre," remonstrated Oswald, in a strained unnatural voice. But
+Truyn, always anxious about those dear to him, could not be deterred
+and the two left the box together.
+
+"What is the matter with Lodrin to-night?" asked Sempaly as he took
+Truyn's seat. "I could not understand him. Eight years ago, when I saw
+him last, in Vienna, he was such a bright, merry fellow...."
+
+"Well--" and Pistasch drew a long breath, "he is just beginning to
+suffer from the Phylloxera."
+
+Georges replied to Sempaly's further inquiries, for Pistasch had become
+absorbed in an endeavour by sundry little grimaces to put out of
+countenance the Siebel of the performance, who was skipping awkwardly
+about the stage in boots much too tight. In this interesting amusement
+Pistasch forgot all else beside.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+"You really do not know what you wish," said Truyn in surprise when
+Oswald changed his mind for the third time about leaving Prague. After
+going with Truyn to the races on the first day succeeding the election,
+he would not hear of attending them with Georges and Pistasch on the
+second day. It was settled that he was to return home with Truyn; then
+he began to waver and fidget, and at last he telegraphed,
+countermanding the carriage that had been ordered to meet him, and got
+up a sudden interest in the horses of the Y---- stud which were to race
+for the first time. Before long, however, this interest subsided, and
+to Truyn's great surprise Oswald informed him at a moment's notice,
+that after all he was going home with him.
+
+"You will send me over to Tornow, uncle--or shall I telegraph for the
+horses?" asked Oswald.
+
+"Good Heavens, no! You can spend an hour with us, at Rautschin and take
+a cup of tea, and then I will send you home, you whimsical fellow,
+you," replied his uncle, and so they drove together through the quiet
+summer morning to the station.
+
+The streets were deserted except by the street sweepers, with their
+watering-pots busily laying the dust. The wheels of the hack rumbled
+noisily over the uneven pavement past brilliant cafés and shop windows,
+finally by the fine new National Bohemian Theatre, until their sound
+was deadened by the wooden planks of the Suspension Bridge. As usual
+the bridge is undergoing repairs; and this delays the hack, which, in
+addition is impeded by a battalion of infantry and two lumbering ox
+carts; there is a strong smell of mouldy planks, and hot pitch, by no
+means adding to the fragrance of the morning air. But these trifling
+annoyances cannot provoke Truyn, or destroy his pleasure in gazing on
+his native town.
+
+The Moldau, slaty grey in hue, with silvery reflections, flows among
+its green, feathery islands, and, parallel with the modern suspension
+monstrosity, the mediaeval Königsbridge, picturesque, and clumsy,--the
+statues on its broad balustrade black with age like the primitive
+illustrations in some old Chronicle,--spans the stream with its solemn
+arches.
+
+The Kaiserburg, surrounded by haughty palaces with an unfinished gothic
+cathedral, looks down from the summit of the Hradschin, upon its image
+mirrored in the water in waving lines, and columns tinged with green.
+The morning sun glows on the five red glass stars before the green St.
+John on the Karlsbridge, and far away on the left and right, far into
+the receding distance, until all objects are mellowed and blent,
+stretch the banks of the river like a long drawn symphony of colour
+dying away in palest violet.
+
+"After all, it is a fine, a magnificent city!" exclaimed Truyn with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"Pistasch said yesterday that Prague was a dismal hole," was Oswald's
+reply, "you may both be right--it all depends upon how you look at it."
+
+The phrase falls keen and chilling upon Truyn's enthusiasm, like ice
+into boiling water. Surprised, and well nigh irritated, he turned to
+his future son-in-law. As, however, he is far less sensitive than
+good-natured, a glance at Oswald converts irritation into eager
+compassion: "I wonder where you can have caught it?" he sighed, shaking
+his head.
+
+"Good Heavens, what?" asked Oswald.
+
+"I wish I knew," said Truyn, "either intermittent fever or a slight
+touch of jaundice,--for a man of your age and with your constitution
+there's no cause for alarm, but your mother will reproach me with your
+looking so ill!" Then Truyn leaned out of the window of the hack to
+admire the Hradschin once more, before subsiding into a corner with a
+sigh of content, and lighting a cigar.
+
+Oswald's nature is certainly as poetic as Truyn's, and never before had
+he driven over the suspension bridge, on a summer's morning, without
+revelling in the beauty of the Bohemian capital. But to-day everything
+is metamorphosed, beauty is ugliness. For him the world within two days
+had undergone a transformation.
+
+The human mind is like a mirror, upon the quality whereof depends the
+character of the reflection in its depths; in one mirror all things are
+reflected yellow, in another green, in a third every line is vague,
+shadowy and undecided; one shows objects lengthened, another broadened,
+and should the mirror be cracked, everything that it reflects will be
+distorted.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Zinka and Gabrielle were at the railway station to meet Truyn, both
+gay, cordial and surpassingly lovely. The sight of them, and their
+merry talk at first brightened Oswald's mood. But suddenly at tea,
+which on the travellers' account was a substantial meal, a wretched
+sense of discomfort attacked him anew.
+
+As he had often laughingly boasted of his punctilious fulfilment of any
+commission from a lady, Gabrielle, before he left for Prague, had
+entrusted to him, to have repaired, a gold clasp of Hungarian
+workmanship set with rare, coloured stones.
+
+When at the table she asked him, "How about my clasp--did you bring it
+with you, or is the jeweller to send it?" he started, saying, "Forgive
+me, I forgot all about it."
+
+Gabrielle stared--"Forgot--my commission?"
+
+"Good Heavens! I am not the only man who ever forgot anything!"
+exclaimed Oswald irritably.
+
+It was the first unkind word he had ever uttered to his betrothed.
+Astonished and grieved she cast down her eyes. But Truyn, who, as long
+as Oswald was well and merry, was continually finding fault with him,
+being now seriously concerned about the young man's health took his
+part.
+
+"Have a little patience with him, comrade," said he to his daughter,
+"he is not well,--look at him, a man who looks as he does must not be
+scolded. When he is himself again we will both scold him roundly."
+
+"Forgive me, Ella," entreated Oswald humbly, holding out his hand to
+her. "I have an intolerable headache, uncle. Please have the carriage
+brought round, I must go home."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+The road from Rautschin castle to Tornow goes directly through the
+village, across the market-place, and past the inn, 'The Rose.'
+
+Involuntarily Oswald glanced towards the unpretending front of the
+tavern. Conceited and bedizened, with a dirty coat, and with bare feet
+thrust into morocco slippers down at the heel, the same waiter is
+standing in the doorway, just as he stood there on that rainy afternoon
+in spring, when Oswald took refuge in the inn-parlour.
+
+Was everything to be forever reminding him of that odious scene?--In
+Prague he had fancied that he should soon be able to shake off the
+hateful sensation produced by the interview with Capriani, just as we
+all overcome the nervous shudder, caused by some revolting spectacle.
+But no! for three days it had lasted and he could not rid himself of
+it,--on the contrary this hateful sensation was growing more defined.
+
+Of course he did not frame his suspicion in words, he was ashamed of
+it; he called it an _idée fixe_, resulting from nervous irritability
+still remaining from a slight sunstroke which he had had the year
+before, but for all that, he could not away with it. Countless memories
+of trifling events, dating from earliest childhood, crowded upon his
+mind, all pointing, with a sneer, one way. There was a lump in his
+throat, a weight as of lead upon his heart; the pain waxed more and
+more intolerable. He could have leaped out of the carriage and have
+flung himself down in the road with his face in the very dust, in an
+agony of shame and horror!
+
+For the first time in his life he was reluctant to go home; he was
+afraid of meeting his mother. There was a kind of relief in the thought
+that she was not expecting him, and would not come to meet him. He
+clinched his hands tightly, and gazed abroad, striving by the sight of
+distinct, familiar objects, to exorcise the evil phantoms that
+possessed his soul. But everything that his eyes beheld was stamped
+with ugliness and dejection. The leaves on the trees were limp and
+dusty. The grain, lodged by the storms, lay on the ground, half rotted
+in its own luxuriance. The farmers could recall no former year so rich
+in promise, so poor in fulfilment.
+
+When at length he reached the castle, he could hardly bring himself to
+ask after his mother, or to go and look for her. How could he, while
+his mind was filled with such vile abomination? He went up to his room,
+where the first object that met his eyes was the white death-mask upon
+the wall. He grew dizzy, a black, crimson-edged cloud seemed to rise
+before him; he flung open the window,--the air cooled by the sunset,
+and laden with the fragrance of flowers, played about him, and
+refreshed him,--he breathed more freely.
+
+Just then a soft, gentle sound fell upon his ear--his mother's voice!
+He shivered nervously from head to foot. How sweet, how noble was that
+voice!
+
+"So, so, old friend; fine, good Darling! Bravo, old dog, bravo!"
+
+These words spoken with caressing tenderness, reached him through the
+silence. He leaned out of the window--there she sat in a large wicker
+garden-chair, playing with his Newfoundland, that, with huge forepaws
+upon her lap, was looking familiarly into her face. Her full, elegant
+figure, about which some soft, black material fell in graceful folds,
+stood out against the background of a clump of pale purple phlox in
+luxuriant bloom. Oswald watched her in silence; the beautiful placid
+expression of her features, the rich harmony of her voice, the tender
+grace of her movements, as she passed her hands lovingly over the
+dog's head and neck,--all appealed to him. He never could tire of
+watching those hands. So slender and delicate that a girl of eighteen
+might have coveted them, there was something more about them than mere
+physical beauty, something clinging, pathetic, which is never found
+in the hands of young girls or of childless women. They were true
+mother-hands,--hands with an innate genius for soothing caresses;
+Oswald recalled the time when he had been extremely ill, and those
+delicate, white hands had tended him day and night with untiring
+patience and unsurpassable skill;--he could even yet feel their touch
+upon his suffering, weary limbs.
+
+And this saint,--his mother, his glorious, incomparable mother,--he had
+presumed to sully by such vile suspicions! He, her son!
+
+Without another thought he hurried down into the park. He saw her at a
+distance. The dog was lying quiet at her feet; she sat with hands
+clasped in her lap, and in her half-closed eyes there lay the look of
+the visionary, dim or far-seeing, always beholding more, or less than
+the actual. The dog heard his master's step and began to wag his tail,
+then rose, barking with joy, and ran to meet Oswald.
+
+"Ossi!" and the Countess opened her arms to him. Not even from his
+betrothed had he ever heard a tone of welcome so fervent, and as his
+mother clasped him close, and kissed him, he felt as if God Himself had
+laid His hand upon his sore heart and healed it. Gone were all his evil
+surmises, all fled, leaving only a sensation of angry self-reproach.
+
+"You are a day sooner than you said," she exclaimed, kissing him
+affectionately. "Well, I shall not complain, I am a few hours richer
+than I thought."
+
+"How so, mamma?"
+
+"Do you not understand? Do you really not yet know that I am counting
+the thirty-three days before your marriage--the last days that I shall
+have you to myself--and that to each one as it goes, I bid a sad
+farewell? Let me look at you,--my poor child, how you have come back to
+me! you look as if you had had an illness."
+
+"I have felt miserably, really wretchedly ever since I went away," he
+admitted, speaking slowly and without looking at her. "Uncle Erich
+diagnosed either the jaundice or intermittent fever, but it does not
+amount to anything, I am well again."
+
+"You do not look so," said the Countess, shaking her head. "Take an
+arm-chair, that seat is very uncomfortable."
+
+He had seated himself upon a low stool at her feet.
+
+"No, no, mamma," he replied smiling, "this seat is all right, and now
+tell me of what you were thinking as I came towards you. Your thoughts
+must have been very pleasant!"
+
+"Must you know everything," she replied gaily, "I had no thoughts,--my
+dreams...." she patted him lightly on the cheek and whispered--"were of
+my grandchildren."
+
+"Indeed? Perfectly reconciled, then, to my marriage?"
+
+"We must learn to acquiesce in the inevitable, and--and--it really
+would be delightful to have a chubby little Ossi, in miniature, to pet,
+and cosset."
+
+He did not speak, but leaned a little forward and pressed the hem of
+her gown to his lips.
+
+"You goose!" she remonstrated; but when he raised his head she
+perceived that his eyes were filled with tears. "What is the matter?"
+
+"A momentary weakness, as you see," he said with forced gaiety; adding
+earnestly,--"I am not ashamed of it before you. Of the evil that is in
+us, we are more ashamed before those whom we love than before all the
+rest of the world; but of our weaknesses we are ashamed only before
+those to whom we are indifferent!"
+
+Paler and paler grow the blossoms of the sweet rocket, sweeter and
+sweeter their fragrance rises aloft, like a mute prayer,--twilight
+hovers over the meadows and the leafy summits of the lindens grow
+black. The quiet air is stirred by the village bells ringing the
+Angelus. The Countess folded her hands,--of late years she has grown
+devout. Oswald is overcome by intense lassitude, the lassitude that
+follows the sudden relaxation of nervous tension in men upon whom
+severe physical exertion has no effect.--He lays his head upon his
+mother's knee, and recalls the time when, only twenty years old, and
+smarting under a severe disappointment, he had taken refuge there. Then
+he had lain his head upon her lap, and sleep, wooed in vain through
+feverish nights, had fallen on him.--He remembers how, regardless of
+her own discomfort, she had let him sleep there for hours, never
+moving, lest he should be disturbed. And how many other instances of
+her love and self-sacrifice fill his memory! She strokes his hair, and
+for a moment he wishes he might die, thus, now, and here,--yes, it
+would be far better, a hundredfold better to die thus at her feet, his
+heart filled with filial adoration, than to have to live down again the
+anguish of the last three days.
+
+
+
+
+
+                              BOOK FOURTH.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+After all, what had induced Conte Capriani to spend his summer in
+Austria? His wife and his children were unutterably bored in their
+exile, and he--he was consumed with secret chagrin. He had intended to
+astound the earth whereon he had once run barefoot, but nothing had
+fulfilled his expectations, absolutely nothing. The Austrian climate
+did not agree with him, decidedly not. Instead of the intoxicating
+consciousness of triumph wherein he had hoped to revel, he was
+tormented, from morning until night, by a sensation of rasping
+humiliation. His arrogance sickened, shrivelled up; even his
+possessions suddenly seemed to him insignificant. His wealth was, to be
+sure, more easily convertible into cash, more available than that of
+the Austrian aristocrats. But what availed his airy, fleeting millions
+compared with these well-nigh indestructible possessions, rooted for
+centuries in native soil?
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Many, many years before, on a muddy road the sides of which were
+spotted with patches of dirty snow fast melting in the early spring,
+little Alfred Stein had run behind a high old-fashioned green coach
+hung on spiral springs, and had tried to steal a ride on the hind axle.
+The bearded coachman--a stout, patriarchal coachman with a broad fur
+collar--looked back, saw him, and snapped his whip at him, so sharply
+that the boy, frightened, let go the axle, and fell off into a puddle.
+A chubby child, at the carriage window, leaned far out to see him, and
+laughed, without any malice, loud and heartily, as all healthy children
+laugh at anything comical. But rage seized young Alfred, and when he
+could do it unobserved, he clenched his fist, and shook it at the
+carriage.
+
+At that time his envy did not reach higher than to a green coach, with
+a stately fur-clad coachman who could cut at all barefoot boys who were
+clinging on behind. How many miles his envy had travelled since then,
+how many ragamuffins his coachman had since then whipped off from his
+carriages, and yet at times it seemed to him that in reality he had not
+gained a step since that warm damp day in spring, when he had fallen
+into the puddle, and had been laughed at by the saucy little boy.
+
+The child of poor parents, his extraordinary beauty had attracted the
+notice of a Bohemian Countess, who oddly enough was the owner of that
+same green coach. He was the best scholar in the village school, and
+the Countess befriended him. He became the playmate of her proud,
+good-natured, indolent children. By-and-by he shared their lessons, and
+his progress was remarkable. He was patted on the shoulder, his
+diligence was commended, and at last, by dint of flattery and
+servility, he obtained the means to study in Vienna. The years of his
+student life were most wretched. He possessed neither the dullness nor
+the imagination that can make poverty tolerable, but his were the
+endurance and the cunning that overcome poverty. Averse to no secret
+infamy, he, nevertheless made a parade of morality, and was an adept in
+what a witty Frenchman calls _le charlatanisme du désintéressement_.
+Although a Sybarite by nature, and susceptible to all physical
+enjoyment, the instant that the attainment of his aims was at stake, he
+became a pattern of abstinence. He knew how to allow himself to be
+heaped with benefits, without acquiring the reputation of a parasite on
+the one hand or of a man who used his friends without any show of
+gratitude on the other.
+
+From the outset of his career he owed his success, not alone to his
+personal beauty, but to his faculty for intuitively detecting the evil
+propensities of others, and for privately pandering to them, yet always
+preserving a show of indulgent charity withal. His medical practise
+opened to him the doors of certain social circles which would else
+probably have been forever closed to him. He practised medicine for a
+while at fashionable watering places, and he had many distinguished
+patients among the fair sex; at last, however, his marriage to a rich
+Russian girl relieved him from the necessity of pursuing his
+profession, and led his speculative mind into other paths.
+
+His wife's fortune, however, was soon but a small part of that which he
+accumulated and added to it. Always restless, often unprincipled, he
+heaped up his millions, seeming fairly to conjure money out of other
+men's pockets. His greed of gain was no petty passion, there was in it
+something of the heroic. Wealth was not his end, but a means to his
+end, a weapon,--power.
+
+In Paris this power had not failed him, but in Austria no one was
+dazzled by it except those towards whom he felt utterly indifferent.
+Day by day he grew more irritable, more bitter; what did his millions
+avail with these Austrian aristocrats who, had, with indolent elegance
+dragged after them for centuries, in spite of all levelling tendencies
+of any age, the burden of their ancient traditions--called by the
+Liberals prejudices--and who had grown weary at last of justifiable
+carping at their official and unofficial prerogatives, and had taken
+refuge upon an island as it were of determined exclusiveness, where,
+entrenched as behind the wall of China, they loftily ignored all the
+revolutionary hubbub around them.
+
+He had succeeded in much, why should he not succeed in making a breach
+in this wall of China? This was the aim of all his efforts. He was one
+of those who would fain destroy what they cannot attain. By a thousand
+enticing temptations he had striven to arouse the avarice of the _Right
+Honourables_, as he called them, that the base, degrading greed of gain
+might bruise the strict sense of honour that was like a 'hoop of gold
+to bind in' Austrian exclusiveness. To brand an aristocrat as a
+swindler would be a keener joy than to make him a beggar.
+
+He had hitherto had only a few petty triumphs in this direction, but he
+was too ambitious, too clear-sighted to be contented in the long run
+with these trifling victories.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+One consciousness of terrible import to others had at times afforded
+Capriani some consolation, but of late even this consciousness had lost
+somewhat of its soothing charm.
+
+When, after his return from Prague, Kilary had asked him, with a sneer,
+if he had really succeeded in twisting Oswald Lodrin around his finger
+the Conte had replied with some embarrassment, "We have not done with
+each other yet, but I rather think that what I said to him will have an
+effect."
+
+And while he was making private marks with coloured pencils upon his
+business letters, or telegraphic despatches which arrived in large
+numbers for him every day, he repeated to himself, again and again: "It
+will have an effect!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+It is evening in the drawing-room at Tornow, and the air breathes soft
+and fragrance-laden through the open window; the monotonous chirp of
+the crickets sounds loud and shrill as if to drown the sweet plaint of
+the nightingale. Beyond the circle of light cast by the lamps more than
+half of the spacious room is quite dark.
+
+The Countess Lodrin is bending over an embroidery frame, busied in
+working the Zinsenburg crest upon a hassock; Oswald, Georges, and
+Pistasch, who, when the races were over had accepted an invitation to
+come to Tornow with Georges, are eagerly discussing a false start.
+Oswald, the quietest of the three, glances from time to time at his
+mother.
+
+He has, to be sure, succeeded in shaking off his ugly _idée fixe_, and
+in regaining his former cheerfulness; but yet, by fits and starts, he
+is assailed by a paralysing sensation of dread. Then he takes refuge
+with his mother; by her side the odious fancies have no power. There
+are times when he is possessed by a wild impulse to deliver Capriani's
+message, to ask his mother whether she ever really knew Doctor Stein
+and to watch the effect; but at the critical moment his heart has
+always failed him, and he has been ashamed of yielding even thus much
+to his disgraceful weakness.
+
+When they have exhausted the false start, Georges and Pistasch enter
+upon a discussion of the best method of shoeing horses. This
+interesting topic absorbs them so entirely that neither perceives that
+for several minutes the Countess has been searching for something which
+she has mislaid,--finally even stooping to look for it on the floor. It
+is Oswald who rises and asks, "What are you looking for, mamma?"
+
+"A strand of scarlet silk."
+
+The two gentlemen of course feel it their duty to offer their services,
+but too late; Oswald has already picked up the silk. This trifling
+diversion, however, puts a stop to the sporting talk.
+
+"Mimi Dey came to see me this morning; I asked her to dine with us on
+Thursday."
+
+"Is Elli Rhoeden coming too?" asked Oswald.
+
+"If I am not mistaken she has gone to Kreuznach," observed Pistasch.
+
+"Yes," said the Countess, "unfortunately we cannot depend upon her, but
+you will probably enjoy the society of Fräulein von Klette. Mimi will
+do her best to make her stay at home, but she cannot promise."
+
+"Is she living still,--that Spanish fly?" asked Georges, surprised.
+
+"Indeed she is, and with the same enormous appetite," Pistasch calmly
+declared, "I believe she is qualifying herself for the post of Minister
+of Finance; her talent for levying taxes is more brilliantly developed
+every year. Unfortunately her sphere of action is limited to the circle
+of her most intimate friends."
+
+"It appears that she has just embarked in a novel and very interesting
+financial enterprise," remarked the Countess with a smile, "she is
+raffling a sofa cushion."
+
+"Oh, that famous negro head," observed Pistasch, "she has been working
+at it for two years, and she issues a fresh batch of chances every
+three months."
+
+"Before I forget it," said the Countess half to herself, "would you not
+like to write to Fritz to come to dinner day after to-morrow, Ossi? we
+shall be entirely by ourselves. He will feel at home, and I am always
+glad to entice him to forget his sorrows, if only for a few hours."
+
+"I paid him a visit yesterday," said Georges, "he is going down hill
+very fast in health. He asked eagerly after you, Ossi, and mentioned
+that he had not seen you for a long while."
+
+"Ossi avoids Schneeburg, for fear of an encounter with the _Phylloxera
+vastatrix_ who, as he prophesies, is to be the ruin of us all," said
+Pistasch banteringly.
+
+Oswald had risen to light a cigarette at the lamp; his hand trembled a
+little. "I will write to Fritz, mamma," he said, "I am afraid I have
+rather neglected him of late."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III.
+
+
+"Our poor Count Fritz is going fast," said old Doctor Swoboda every
+time that he returned from Schneeburg to Rautschin and stopped at the
+inn to drink a glass of beer; this time he remarked it to Herr
+Alexander Cibulka, who always took a lively interest in Schneeburg.
+
+"Ah, indeed? Well, he has not much to lose in this life," rejoined
+Eugène Alexander, "if I had to depend for my living upon alms, as he
+does, I'd put a bullet through my brains!" and Herr Cibulka ran his
+stubby fingers through his bushy hair. He was very proud of such
+unfeeling expressions, which he considered, Heaven only knows why, as
+particularly fashionable. "And how is the Conte Capriani?" he
+continued, "and the charming Ad'lin,--a superb creature, eh?" and
+Eugène Alexander affectedly wafted abroad a kiss from his finger tips.
+
+"Don't know," growled the old doctor, "I don't associate with them."
+
+"Ah, true," said Herr Cibulka compassionately, "I quite forgot, you do
+not associate with them."
+
+Eugène Alexander Cibulka was the only man among the _haute volée_ of
+the market-town who had enjoyed the honour of an invitation from
+Capriani. The invitation,--there was but one,--was to a _déjeûner_, and
+inspired him with not a little pride. He described it as a most
+memorable, 'brilliant episode,' in his monotonous existence, and he
+celebrated it in lyric phrases. What had so charmed him it would be
+hard to tell; Madame Capriani had found it impossible to understand
+him, although she had good-humouredly tried to do so,--his sentences
+were so interlarded with compliments,--and consequently she was obliged
+to confine herself to phrases of conventional courtesy; Adeline had
+spoken only in French, which of course excluded him from conversation
+with her, and when he picked up her handkerchief she thanked him as
+haughtily as if she resented his not presenting it on a salver; the
+Conte had urged him to partake of the various dishes, ringing the
+changes upon one invariable theme. "You had better take some--you don't
+get such a chance every day."
+
+Modern culture had certainly treated him ill, but all the more was he
+convinced of its immense superiority. There was but one adjective that
+in his opinion, could in any wise fitly characterize the new household
+at Schneeburg, and that was, 'Sublime!'
+
+Two years previously, in old Malzin times, he had also on some occasion
+or other dined at Schneeburg. The old Count had received him with
+distinguished, though formal, courtesy, had insisted upon his preceding
+him into the dining-hall, and had taken great pains to find subjects
+for conversation that should not exclude his guest. He had been very
+much better treated at Schneeburg then,--but no raptures came of it. On
+the contrary he had declared, with a shrug, that Count Malzin's style
+of living was very 'middle-class,'--that it was a pity too, that the
+Count spoke so low that it was difficult to understand him, and that
+really there had not been enough to eat.
+
+In spite of the old Count's courtesy and of the simplicity of the
+dinner, Cibulka had somehow on that occasion been keenly sensible of
+the gulf between himself and the master of Schneeburg, and it seemed to
+him now that Capriani's millions had avenged him of the affront caused
+by the personal superiority of the former possessor of the Castle; this
+delighted him. It flattered his self-importance to hear Capriani--no
+one knew why,--call Castle Schneeburg a little hunting box, nothing but
+a hunting box, and then to hear him say: "Oh, Malzin, _apropos_, did
+you write to the saddler? You must make haste--indeed you are very
+dilatory!" And then, when Fritz had departed, to have the Cr[oe]sus
+suddenly turn to him, to Cibulka, and remark confidentially, "that
+fellow, Malzin, is really an incumbrance, but what can one do?--he must
+be provided for."
+
+Eugène Alexander, a despicable specimen of a despicable class,
+servilely rubbed his hands, and murmured, "The Herr Count is most
+generous, but indeed that is an easy matter for the Herr Count. Poor
+devil! I really am sorry for Malzin."
+
+Poor devil indeed! The old doctor was right, Fritz was going fast.
+Every afternoon at the same hour he had a high fever,--he looked
+like a ghost. In speaking he had a habit of contracting his underlip,
+which gave to his face the hard, pain-begotten lines with which the
+pre-Raphalites portrayed the dying Christ. Ready at any minute to drop
+from fatigue, he was yet driven forth by constant restlessness to go
+dragging over forest and field, obliged at ever-lessening intervals to
+rest upon a stile, or upon the steps of some way-side cross. There he
+would sit gazing abroad and repeating to himself, with the exaggerated
+appreciation that men always cherish for that of which they are
+deprived, that Schneeburg was the finest estate in Bohemia. When he
+strode through the golden stubble fields, the reapers would gather
+about him and with many a merry, kindly word encircle his limbs, in
+accordance with an ancient Bohemian custom, with wreaths of straw. He
+would respond with some friendly jest, and purchase his release by a
+gratuity more in accordance with his former means than with his present
+circumstances.
+
+The people were still loyal to him, to the peasants and day labourers
+he was always "_Our_ Herr Count." Whenever he appeared among them they
+ran to him, kissed his hands, and invoked countless blessings upon him.
+There had been a time when he protested impatiently against these
+rather obtrusive demonstrations, but now he took pleasure in them. He
+knew the people almost all by name, and frequently talked with them,
+when to be sure they never failed to make some complaint against their
+new master, under whom in point of fact they were very well off; but
+they none the less complained of him just to please their Herr Count.
+
+But though the peasants and labourers were thus loyal to him, the new
+servants and superintendants showed no such respect. The Conte had not
+retained in Schneeburg a single one of the former servants; he had
+dismissed them all without pensions. The knowledge of this had added
+bitterness to the old Count's last moments. He had interceded for his
+people, and when he could obtain nothing save vague promises, he had
+intended to use his influence elsewhere for their protection, but death
+had intervened and put an end to his good intentions. Probably none of
+the dismissed were worth much--the housekeeping at the Castle had been
+slipshod and easy-going,--all things had been allowed to take their own
+course. No provision for the old servants had been included in the
+original contract when they were first hired, and the income from
+Schneeburg had not been large enough to warrant the reservation of a
+pension fund, but no one had ever been dismissed on account of
+increasing age, or of physical infirmity. Almost all of them had been
+born upon the estate, and had expected to die there. And now, suddenly,
+Schneeburg was 'swept clean' of them, as the Conte expressed it. Some
+of them were plunged into hopeless poverty; Fritz discovered this, and
+the misery of not being able to provide for _his_ people was an added
+pang.
+
+Meanwhile there was a horde of new servants at Schneeburg, all young
+people, with modern ideas, fresh from industrial schools, stocked with
+correct views of their multifarious duties, and with independent
+opinions in politics.
+
+At first, whenever Fritz met them, he greeted them with the kindly
+affability with which he was wont to treat inferiors, but this
+condescension from one in his circumstances seemed to them ridiculous;
+they laughed among themselves at his courtesy. He did not observe this
+for some time, and when he did so he simply took no notice of the
+menials. They however continued to ridicule him, and to clear away,
+pull down, and alter ruthlessly.
+
+Whilst Fritz sat wearied and worn in his gloomy room, among his shabby
+relics, teaching his little daughter French, or his boy the alphabet,
+he could hear the thud of the falling stones, as the time-honoured
+out-buildings were being demolished, and every sound struck a direct
+blow at his poor, sore, foolish heart.
+
+The Conte's behaviour towards him daily grew more intolerable,
+especially ever since his return from the election. Every petty
+disappointment was wreaked upon Fritz. Of course! Fritz was the only
+member 'of the caste' upon whom the Conte could vent his anger. His
+brutalities Fritz could endure, but what outraged him beyond measure
+was to have the Conte assume an air of frankness, and behind the
+mask of friendly interest presume to ask all sorts of personal
+questions,--the bitterest of pills for Malzin!
+
+"Oh Heavens, how long am I to be in gaining the summit of Calvary?" the
+poor fellow sometimes asked himself.
+
+To-day he had been visited by a ray of light, emanating from the
+cordial, affectionate note, in which Oswald invited him to the
+family-dinner at Tornow. "Forgive me for not having seen you for so
+long," Oswald concluded, "only remember all that I have to do. The
+castle is turned upside down in anticipation of a certain coming event,
+but, nevertheless, we shall be heartily glad to keep you with us for a
+couple of days. But we will discuss this to-morrow."
+
+Of course Fritz accepted the invitation. He knew that it would bring on
+a scene with his wife--but what, after all, did he care for that? He
+could not but anticipate the morrow with pleasure, and after he had
+dispatched his reply by the Tornow messenger, he walked out into the
+park.
+
+It was early in August, and the floods of rain which had fallen in June
+and July had been followed by stifling sultriness. Fritz was both
+stimulated and wearied by the state of the atmosphere, without being
+conscious of any special degree of heat. His disease had made such
+progress that he was subject to chilly sensations, even when the
+thermometer stood very high. As usual, he sought out the most retired
+paths of the park, paths where he felt sure of meeting no one, and of
+being able to indulge unmolested in his customary day-dreams.
+
+He reached a miniature lake, embosomed among proud, old firs, its
+surface glassy as a mirror held aloft by the nixies to the sky. Tall
+reeds with brown heads fringed its shores, and nodded to the white
+waterlilies reposing among their flat, green leaves. Perfect silence
+reigned; not only did the stately firs preserve their customary,
+dignified quiet, but even the leafy trees were too listless to-day to
+exhale their wonted 'murmur mixed with sighs.' Each leaf drooped
+wearily. No bird uttered a note, the stillness was as profound as in
+mid-winter. Nature lay motionless, no audible pulse throbbing, sunk, as
+it seemed, in a mysterious swoon.
+
+Fritz sat down upon a bench rudely constructed of birch boughs, and
+gazed dreamily around. As always when alone, his thoughts reverted to
+the past, and now he smiled at a memory of langsyne. He recalled how as
+a child he had tried here to learn from the gardener's sons how to skip
+pebbles on the surface of the water. He had succeeded but ill; his
+pebbles all sunk directly to the bottom. He remembered too that very
+near this small lake there was once a little hut with a mossgrown,
+shingled roof, resting upon four fir-tree trunks. There the little
+Malzins had played Robinson Crusoe; the hut had been a fort besieged by
+savages. Perhaps it was no longer in existence; Capriani might have had
+it cleared away; Fritz arose to look for it.
+
+It was still there; he could see the gilt crescent sparkling on the
+gable of the old, shingled roof. As he approached it he heard voices,
+and would have withdrawn, had he not recognized them as those of his
+wife and Capriani. In some irritation he drew nearer, but found nothing
+to justify any interference; Charlotte was sitting busy with some
+sewing, while the Conte was talking to her,--that was all.
+
+When Fritz, with his pale face of disapproval appeared in the doorway
+of the summer-house, an ugly smile passed over the features of the
+Conte. "You come in the nick of time," Capriani said carelessly, and
+without the least embarrassment. "Sit down, we were just talking about
+you."
+
+"Indeed? very kind," murmured Fritz, taking a seat, and glancing rather
+sternly at his wife.
+
+"We were just speaking of your children. Hm, my dear Malzin,"--the
+Conte stroked his long whiskers,--"have you laid by anything for those
+youngsters?"
+
+Fritz cast down his eyes. "How could I have done so?" he rejoined in a
+monotone.
+
+"You certainly might lay by something from your present salary," the
+Conte said with emphasis.
+
+"You seem entirely to forget that I have only had my present salary for
+two months," said Fritz bluntly.
+
+The Conte bit his lip. "Oho!" he exclaimed, "have I offended you again?
+I assure you I mean well, very well by you. Tell me your views with
+regard to the future of your children."
+
+Fritz shrugged his shoulders. "I really have none; the poor things will
+have to shift for themselves," and his voice trembled.
+
+"Of course you mean then to give them a good education, to enable them
+to earn their own living," continued the Conte. "That is all right, but
+allow me to ask how you mean to do this?"
+
+Fritz passed his hand--the white, transparent hand of
+consumption--wearily across his forehead. "I hope to send my little
+girl to Hernals," he began, "where she can be educated for a
+governess."
+
+"Ah--!" the Conte looked disapproval--"a very unpractical scheme, it
+seems to me, very unpractical. She will become very pretentious in her
+ideas at Hernals, and will gain but little that can be of real service
+to her. Remember your circumstances, my dear fellow, remember your
+circumstances,--we will discuss them by-and-by. And what do you think
+of doing with your son?"
+
+"Oh Franzi is still so little," said Fritz in hopes of cutting short
+the conversation, the Conte's arrogant, domineering tone was most
+irritating, it stung him like nettles.
+
+"All the more reason for providing for his future," the Conte insisted,
+"in consideration of the chance of your being suddenly taken from him."
+
+"True, true," sighed Fritz. "Well then, I hope to live long enough to
+place him in a government school for Cadets, after which through the
+influence of my relatives, he can obtain a commission."
+
+The Conte laughed contemptuously. "Just like you!" he exclaimed, "the
+same haughty, aristocratic idler as ever! You'll learn sense after a
+while, my dear fellow. I have thought of something for Franzi; your
+wife is quite agreed to it." Charlotte who had seemed to be absorbed in
+her sewing, nodded.
+
+"The Countess always takes a sensible view of affairs, she looks things
+in the face," continued the Conte; "begging your pardon, my dear
+fellow, there is more common-sense in her little finger than in your
+whole body. We will find Franzi a place in a dry-goods establishment.
+The business is neither unhealthy, nor confining, and if it goes
+against your grain to put him in such a situation here in Austria (to
+speak frankly I think any such objection very petty,--my views in this
+respect are more enlightened) why I will see that he gets one in Paris
+at the _Louvre_ or at the _Printemps_; a clerk in one of those great
+houses often gets a yearly salary of from fifteen to twenty thousand
+francs!"
+
+Fritz started to his feet and made several attempts to interrupt the
+Conte, but his voice failed. A singing was in his ears, his blood was
+coursing hotly, wildly through his veins. "My son!" he gasped hoarsely,
+"my son, clerk in a dry-goods shop! I'd rather kill him myself!"
+
+He felt a terrible oppression in his chest, and then came sudden
+relief; in an instant he grew deadly pale with bluish tints about his
+eyes and temples. He stretched out his hands aimlessly as if to ward
+off some catastrophe, not knowing why he did so,--then mechanically
+felt for his handkerchief, pressed it to his lips, and fell senseless
+on the floor.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+The Lodrins dined early during the warm summer months; they wished to
+have the cooler hours of the late afternoon for riding, driving or
+walking. The dinner on Thursday at which Fritz was to have been present
+was at two o'clock, but at the last moment he sent an excuse without
+any special cause assigned.
+
+Of course Fräulein von Klette had not been persuaded to stay at home.
+Erect as a grenadier, and with an enormous reticule to contain her
+sewing, her headdress, and any chance presents that she might receive,
+she made her appearance with Mimi Dey, who good-humouredly assured the
+Countess Lodrin, for the tenth time that Ossi and Gabrielle were
+incomparably the handsomest betrothed couple in Austria, and then
+greeted Zinka with perhaps rather exaggerated cordiality. Thanks to the
+imitative instinct that rules the world, all the ladies of the vicinity
+modelled their behaviour towards Zinka upon that of the Countess
+Lodrin. Mimi Dey had declared lately to several of her acquaintances
+who were asking about Erich Truyn's marriage, "Zinka is as much of a
+lady as I am," and this significant verdict had its share in
+establishing upon a firm basis Zinka's social position.
+
+Pistasch watched Zinka curiously; with all his languid insolence, he
+was possessed of sufficient tact to perceive what she was and to
+comport himself towards her accordingly. As usual, when not in the
+bosom of her family, she was rather silent; her gentle voice was heard
+only occasionally; she looked very pretty, and seemed to be occupied
+with anything rather than her own beauty, with every one else rather
+than with herself.
+
+The two topics of the hour were the upset that had befallen young
+Capriani and his four-in-hand the day before, and the murder of an old
+widow in a village near Schneeburg. The accident to the four-in-hand of
+course afforded all the gentlemen the liveliest satisfaction; they were
+unanimous in their surprise that the catastrophe had been delayed so
+long; the murder in Karlowitz opened for Truyn a wide field of moral
+and political considerations. As this murder was the first that had
+occurred within the memory of man in all the country round, he did not
+hesitate for a moment to ascribe it to the demoralizing influence of
+Capriani.
+
+There is probably no evil, from a murder to an epidemic, which Truyn
+would not have liked to trace directly or indirectly to the sinister
+influence of Conte Capriani. Oswald who had been merry enough at first
+gradually grew taciturn and monosyllabic.
+
+"Capriani's ears must tingle," he exclaimed at last, no longer
+controlling his impatience, "can we talk of nothing else but that
+scoundrel!"
+
+"Do not grudge us this innocent amusement," rejoined Truyn
+good-humouredly, and Pistasch added, "I cannot see why it should make
+you nervous. The mere sound of Capriani's name affects you as an
+allusion to the cholera affects other men." Oswald changed colour, and
+Georges proposed a toast to the betrothed couple.
+
+After dinner, whilst they were all drinking coffee in the drawing-room,
+Pistasch contrived a _tête-à-tête_ with his cousin Mimi Dey for the
+purpose of asking all sorts of questions about Zinka, which he could
+not well put directly to the Lodrins. "Is she the same Sterzl about
+whom there was so much talk in Rome? The girl who--etc.,--etc.?--a very
+delightful person, really charming." It was beginning to be the fashion
+to declare Zinka charming.
+
+In the meantime the heroine of the Roman romance, was sitting beside
+the Countess Lodrin on a small divan in a dim corner of the spacious
+room, and whispering, "Have you heard?"
+
+"Of course I have! Ossi learned it from your husband; I congratulate
+you with all my heart," replied the Countess in a low tone, taking the
+young wife's hand in her own.
+
+"And you understand how very glad I am," whispered Zinka, blushing, and
+brushing away a tear.
+
+The Countess smiled her own grave beautiful smile, and nodded assent;
+Zinka moved a little closer to her. "Who should understand it better
+than you?" she whispered. She felt a positive reverence for the
+Countess, whose kind and tender treatment of her she could not but
+regard as a special mark of favour and distinction. The childlike
+deference of her manner towards the elder lady was very graceful and
+very winning.
+
+"If--if the good God should grant me a son," she whispered more softly
+still, and with a deeper blush, "I should like to learn from you how to
+educate him."
+
+Countess Wjera laid her hand kindly on Zinka's shoulder. "Your husband
+will be a better teacher there than I can be; that Ossi is what he is
+is due to the grace of God,--not to me."
+
+"And is it by God's grace alone, that Ossi has preserved so profound
+and filial a veneration for his mother?"
+
+The Countess took her hand from Zinka's shoulder; the younger woman,
+startled, gazed into her face.
+
+"It is nothing," said Wjera, with a forced smile, "a pain in my
+heart--it will soon pass."
+
+Mimi Dey, with Pistasch, was approaching the corner where the Countess
+and Zinka were sitting, and noticing Wjera's sudden pallor, inquired as
+to its cause, instantly vaunting the merits of a certain specific, in
+which she had implicit confidence. As soon as Fräulein Klette observed
+that the conversation was taking a medical turn, she too joined the
+group. "Wjera, I know a wonderful remedy; a Swiss physician, gave me
+the prescription,--it really will cure everything,--everything."
+
+"From scrofula to 'despised love,'" added Pistasch. He knew the famous
+prescription well, and knew, too, that it was the basis of one of
+Fräulein Klette's numerous financial man[oe]uvres.
+
+"It really is an extraordinary remedy, Wjera, and it would do you good,
+too, Mimi;--it would be the very thing for Zinka I am sure," Fräulein
+Klette rattled on. "I have wrought wonders with it. Do let me have a
+few bottles of it put up for you."
+
+"You needn't take that trouble, Carolin," said Pistasch maliciously, "I
+have two or three quarts of your specific on hand, and it will give me
+pleasure to supply the ladies."
+
+"As you please, I do not insist," said the Fräulein chagrined;
+whereupon she drew from her reticule the famous negro's head and with
+great energy and a very long thread began to embroider a sulphurous
+gleam on his ebony nose.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+The fierce heat of the day is over, the rays of the westering sun cast
+mildly gleaming bands of gold here and there amid the pleasing
+confusion of furniture in the drawing-room, where both coverings and
+hangings of Flemish stuff made the prevailing colour a dim, cool green.
+
+The world forgetting, the betrothed pair were standing by a little
+table whereon was a large, blue Sèvres vase, filled with crimson
+Jacqueminot roses, a vase, whereof the depressing shape was that of a
+funeral urn, and whereof the decorations were after the pedantic taste
+of the first Empire, with medallions of gaudy flowers upon a dark-blue
+surface. Oswald and Gabrielle had just agreed in declaring the vase
+almost as hideous as the pretentious monstrosity placed in the library
+of the Vatican as a memorial of Napoleonic generosity.
+
+"Mamma's Russian relatives have a positive passion for blue Sèvres
+vases, and green malachite table tops upon gilded tripods," said
+Oswald, "but one cannot throw a well-meant gift out of doors!"
+
+And then they went on to talk of the future, of their wedding-trip
+which was to be to the East, and to laugh over certain events of the
+first days of their young affection, in that fair spring-time in Paris.
+Suddenly Gabrielle interrupted their talk with "Now you are yourself
+again, but at dinner you looked so cross, I was absolutely afraid of
+you!"
+
+"Oh, you foolish little girl, how could you be afraid of me?"
+
+"You mean that a great lion like you, is far too noble to hurt a poor
+little King Charles!"
+
+He shook his head, saying, "I never should think of comparing you to a
+King Charles."
+
+"To what would you compare me then?" she asked, lifting her large,
+shining eyes to his.
+
+"Are you angling for flattery, Ella?" he said banteringly.
+
+"Flattery from you?" was her half-offended reply.
+
+"Ah, I did not mean that,--I will tell you to what I love to liken
+you," he whispered very softly, leaning towards her,--"to a white lily,
+Ella,--you are just as pure and fair, with a golden heart deep down in
+your breast."
+
+Her dark-blue eyes glittered with tears of tenderness.
+
+"Oh Ella, if you only knew how I long to clasp you in my arms this
+moment, and kiss away the tears from those dear eyes! But ...." and he
+gave a glance around.
+
+"No one is looking," she said saucily.
+
+It was true; the ladies were absorbed in teazing Pistasch about his
+last conquest, and Truyn and Georges were again at it in argument over
+the internal policy of the government; but none the less did the sound
+of her own audacious little speech startle Gabrielle, and when Oswald
+with a merry glance whispered "Say that again, Gabrielle," she turned
+away.
+
+"How Papa is shouting!" she observed in order to change the subject as
+quickly as possible. And in fact Truyn's voice is tolerably loud as he
+utters the significant, momentous words: "It is our mission to protect
+the people from the influence of ambitious political theorists, and
+from its own folly!"
+
+"He is in a downright fury," assents Oswald, "let us try to calm him,
+Ella." And as they went together towards the two politicians, Oswald
+said, "Would you not like to have a rubber, uncle, before you carry out
+your mission?"
+
+Truyn, as became his age, had a weakness for whist, quite as pronounced
+as for politics, and therefore accepted the proposal. The ladies were
+politely invited to play, but no one accepted save Fräulein Klette, and
+since Pistasch refused point-blank to have her for a partner, the four
+gentlemen sat down to the game by themselves.
+
+The sunbeams slant more and more, one long, level ray is now shining
+directly through the bouquet of crimson roses in the ugly Sèvres vase,
+the flowers glow like strange, weird jewels.
+
+A carriage stopped before the castle. "Who can it be?" said Countess
+Lodrin.
+
+It was the Baroness Melkweyser. The customary greetings over, she
+begged the gentlemen not to let her interrupt their game, and sank into
+an arm-chair beside the Countess Lodrin. "I hope I do not disturb you!"
+she exclaimed. "I really could not stand it another hour over there. I
+was perfectly wild!"
+
+"Aha!" Mimi Dey smiled provokingly. "I cannot pity you as much as you
+seem to expect, Zoë; I thought you would repent it, when I heard you
+were staying with those queer people."
+
+"What would you have?" said the Baroness meekly enough, "I have known
+those Caprianis ever so long, they live magnificently in Paris."
+
+"Indeed?" asked Mimi, "does any one visit them?"
+
+"Oh yes, crowned heads even," said Zinka, "and especially Princes of
+the blood travelling incog."
+
+"Oh, they--why, they go even to the _Mabille_," said Mimi,
+"and--well--perhaps there is a certain similarity between ....!"
+
+"Oh, no, no," interrupted Zoë, "they have very decent manners; Capriani
+even turned out of his house lately a person who came without an
+invitation."
+
+"Really?" said Zinka, "that, certainly, shows great progress; but is it
+true that at the Conte's last ball neither the eldest daughter, nor her
+husband was present?"
+
+"Yes," Zoë admitted. "Those are some of the insolent airs with which
+Larothière contrives to awe his father-in-law."
+
+"Go on," said Mimi.
+
+"I do not say that only the _élite_ appear at these balls. _C'est
+toujours le monde à côté_, as they say in Paris, but,--good Heavens!
+these Caprianis have been of service to me, and they always heaped me
+with attentions, but here they are beginning to behave positively
+disagreeably to me."
+
+"Perhaps your services in your native country have not answered their
+expectations," said Mimi, "Pistasch told me that you had been invited
+to Schneeburg on purpose to introduce the Caprianis into Austrian
+society. Was that only one of his poor jokes, or ...."
+
+"I really did promise to do my best ...."
+
+"My dear Zoë'," exclaimed Mimi Dey horrified, "had you clean forgotten
+your Austria?"
+
+"No, I had not forgotten it, only I fancied that in the last
+twenty-five years you might have conformed somewhat to the spirit of
+the age; but no, you are precisely the same as ever. When will you
+cease to entrench yourselves behind triple barriers?"
+
+"When we feel sure that no suspicious individual will try to invade our
+realm," said Mimi; "our circle, moreover, is quite large enough, and if
+we are asked to admit a stranger, at least we have a right to discover
+beforehand whether he will or will not be an acquisition."
+
+That this didactic little speech was uttered principally for her
+edification, the Countess Truyn was perfectly aware. She merely smiled
+calmly.
+
+"I have no prejudices," asserted Fräulein Klette boldly. "I am
+perfectly ready to be introduced to the Caprianis."
+
+"Yes, you are a great philosopher," replied Mimi, gravely patting her
+on the shoulder, "we all know that."
+
+"I shall not fail to represent to Capriani the advantage to be derived
+from your acquaintance," said Zoë drily. "And now I must make haste and
+execute a commission; I should really prefer to extricate myself from
+these associations, but since I have got into the claws of this vulture
+I must keep him in good humour at least until he has gotten my finances
+into a better condition. And that brings me to what I have to ask of
+you, Wjera; I want you to do me a great favour." Up to this point the
+Countess Lodrin had taken no part in the conversation, but had
+continued, apparently lost in thought, to work away with her large
+wooden needles at her woollen piece of knitting. Zinka, who had been
+watching her, thought her unusually pale. "A favour? What is it?" asked
+the Countess.
+
+"It is about your 'old Vienna' set of china, which you used to be so
+anxious to complete. The other half was at Schneeburg, and now belongs
+to Capriani. When he learned from me that you--er--were very fond of
+the set, he--er--asked me,--very kindly, as you must admit,--to offer
+you his half."
+
+The Countess's large wooden needles clicked louder, and more busily
+than ever, but she said not a word in reply.
+
+"You really would do me a very great favour, Wjera," persisted the
+baroness, "three weeks ago he asked me to say this to you, and I have
+only to-day brought myself to do it. You will embarrass me exceedingly
+by rejecting the china."
+
+Then Wjera with a quick angry gesture dropped her work, and looked up.
+Her face in its stern pallor was like chiselled marble, but a dark glow
+shone in her eyes; Zinka thought that she had never beheld anything
+more beautiful or more haughty than that face at that moment. "What
+price does your Herr Capriani ask for the china?" she asked curtly.
+
+"Price?--Price?--he will deem himself only too happy by your acceptance
+of it...!"
+
+"Ossi, that's a revoke!" exclaimed Pistasch spreading out two tricks
+upon the whist-table.
+
+"He is playing very carelessly," remarked Truyn.
+
+"Every allowance must be made for a man in love," said Georges kindly
+as he shuffled the cards.
+
+Oswald, whose back was towards his mother, heard her say: "Your
+Monsieur Capriani's officiousness seems to me to pass all bounds. Pray
+tell him _de ma part_ that I am quite ready to buy the service of him,
+at any price that he may name, however high, but that it is not my
+habit to accept gifts from those with whom I neither have nor wish to
+have any social intercourse."
+
+"But, good Heavens! I had forgotten one half of my message," said Zoë,
+striking her forehead. "He expressly hoped that you would see in this
+little attention nothing more than a proof of respectful esteem from a
+former servant,--he would not venture to say friend,--of your family.
+He assures me that he attended yourself and your husband years ago
+while you were in the Riviera, and he declares that if you do not
+recognise Conte Capriani, you will surely remember Doctor--Doctor--I
+have forgotten the name--but at any rate the doctor that you had
+there."
+
+"Why it must be Stein!" exclaimed Fräulein Klette.
+
+"Yes, that was the name," said Zoë.
+
+"Why, I knew him," Fräulein Klette went on eagerly. "You must remember
+me to him; he was practising at Nice, when I spent the winter with the
+Orczinskas. The women raved about him--he was a very handsome man then,
+and he had invented a hygienic corset, all the women wore it.--You must
+have known him too, Wjera. I am certain that I met him once at your
+villa, that winter that you and your husband passed in the Riviera."
+
+"He declares that he attended your husband," said Zoë.
+
+There was a brief--a very brief pause, and then the Countess said
+clearly and distinctly, "Possibly, but it does not interest me, and you
+can tell him from me that I do not remember it!"
+
+"How young you look when you're angry, Wjera," said Mimi Dey, laughing,
+"the old demon flashes in your eyes when you're vexed."
+
+"There's a deal of pleasure in playing whist with you, Ossi," exclaimed
+Truyn at the same moment,--he was Oswald's partner,--"that's five
+trumps that you have thrown away--I had a slam in my hand."
+
+"How could I guess that you had anything in diamonds?"
+
+"I led."
+
+"Clubs."
+
+"No, diamonds! Just look."
+
+"Don't you think that Ossi, when he puts on that gloomy face, looks
+astonishingly like young Capriani?" observed Pistasch.
+
+No longer master of himself Oswald threw his cards down on the table.
+
+"Come, come, behave yourself, Ossi," said Truyn.
+
+"There's no use in trying to jest with you: you are as sensitive as a
+commoner," grumbled Pistasch.
+
+"Let us rather say as irritable as a crowned head," said Georges
+laughing, "_Les extrèmes se touchent_."
+
+"I really believe it is the reappearance of your old family spectre
+which must have affected your nerves lately, Ossi," Pistasch said
+innocently.
+
+"Which family spectre are you talking of?" asked Oswald hoarsely.
+
+"Have you several of them then?" asked Pistasch. "I know only of the
+blind one that laughs--my man told me to-day while I was dressing that
+it has been heard laughing again. The butler had told him so."
+
+"The gardener was talking to me of it to-day too," said Georges, "but I
+told him that there have been no ghosts since '48; ghosts as an
+institution were quite done away with by the March revolution,
+whereupon, as he is an aspiring person addicted to free thinking he
+replied that he had arrived at that same conclusion himself."
+
+"Stupid superstition!" muttered Oswald; then controlling himself by an
+effort he said very quietly, but pale as ashes. "Shall we not have
+another rubber?"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+The world of spirits is a favourite topic with your aristocratic
+dilettanti, and every Austrian family _qui se respecte_ has its
+spectre.
+
+The Zinsenburgs have their White Lady, the Truyns their magnificent
+four-in-hand, which, as the fore-runner of any terrible domestic
+calamity, rattles past the windows of the Truynburg in the Bohemian
+forest--no one knows whither or whence.--The Kamenz family have only a
+black hand that inscribes weird characters of fire on the walls; the
+Lodrins have their blind woman who is heard laughing when disgrace or
+misfortune threatens the family. Of all the family spectres in Bohemia
+this laughing, blind woman is the most grisly. Her origin dates from
+dim antiquity. The legend runs that in the eleventh or twelfth century
+a knight, Wolf von Lodrin, married in accordance with a family
+arrangement, but with no love on the bride's part, a beautiful and
+noble maiden. Inflamed with passion for her, and finding it impossible
+to win her affection, in an evil hour, and in a fit of devilish rage,
+he struck her across the face with his riding-whip, and blindness
+followed the blow. Overcome by horror at what he had done the knight
+fell into a brooding melancholy, and at last killed himself. When his
+blind widow was told of it, she laughed; she herself lived to be a
+hundred years old, but after the knight's suicide she never spoke a
+single word,--only every time that any calamity befell the family, or
+one of its sons suffered disgrace she could be heard laughing. It was
+this blind spectre that still haunted Tornow. Formerly she had been
+seen frequently, it was said, a tall figure in grey, with a black
+bandage over her eyes, and an uncanny smile upon her pale lips, and the
+apparition always preceded some dire family misfortune. Her laugh had
+last been heard the day before Oswald's birth, wherefore it was feared
+that either the mother or the child would die, or that the Countess
+would give birth to some monster. But when a beautiful boy was born,
+and the mother recovered after her confinement much sooner than had
+been predicted, the blind Cassandra rather fell into disrepute,
+especially as both the Count and Countess set their faces against any
+belief in her existence, the Count because of his devout religious
+faith, and the Countess because she was too enlightened to encourage
+any such superstition.
+
+Oswald had never bestowed much thought upon the spectre, merely smiling
+in a superior way when it was mentioned, but in the present excited,
+irritated state of his nerves even the superstitious gossip of his old
+servants made an impression upon him. During the rest of the evening,
+however, he put forth all his force to obliterate the impression that
+his irritability at the whist-table had made upon Truyn and Pistasch.
+And he succeeded; but when, after all the guests had departed, he
+retired to his room for the night his strength was exhausted. The old
+torture assailed him, only it was even keener and more agonizing than
+that which he had brought with him from Prague. He tossed his head from
+side to side on his pillow in feverish sleeplessness. Endowed from
+boyhood with that faultless courage which is rather a matter of
+temperament than of education, to-night for the first time in his life
+he was thrilled with a vague dread. Every noise, however slight, made
+him catch his breath with a suffocating sense of oppression.
+
+At last his eyes closed in troubled and restless sleep, but his anguish
+pursued him in his dreams. He seemed to be lying upon a meadow of
+emerald green, with bright flowers blooming all around, and gay
+butterflies fluttering here and there, while above him arched the
+cloudless blue, lit up by golden sunshine. Suddenly he felt the earth
+beneath him move, and he began slowly to sink into it. Overcome with
+horror he tried to arise, but the more he tried the deeper he sank into
+what was loathsome, slimy mud. He awoke, bathed in cold perspiration,
+gasping for breath, his heart beating wildly.
+
+He gazed around; everything wore a weird unwonted look in the
+half-light of the summer night that encircled every object with a halo
+of grey mist. Through the open windows the heavy, sultry air floated in
+and out. He listened,--everywhere was silence, all nature lay as under
+the ban of an evil spell. Then a stir broke the silence,--did something
+rustle softly?--he seemed to hear the very wings of the night-moths
+fluttering above the flowers. His father's death mask glared white
+through the gloom; it grew longer and longer as if fain to descend from
+where it hung---- What was that----? a low chuckle seemed to sound
+behind the very wall beside him! The bodiless shadows floated hither
+and thither and suddenly grouped themselves in one spot; a tall grey
+figure with bandaged eyes and white lips drawn into a scornful smile
+stood leaning against the wall--it moved! It glided to his bed;
+uttering a cry he grasped at it; it vanished and he fell back on his
+pillow.
+
+A few minutes afterward a light step approached his door, the latch was
+cautiously lifted, and his mother in a long white dressing-gown,
+holding a lighted candle in a little flat candlestick, entered. Her
+bedroom was just beneath his, and she had heard his cry. "Ossi!" she
+called gently.
+
+"Yes, mother!"
+
+"What was the matter?"
+
+"I had a bad dream."
+
+She lit the candles upon his table and leaned over him, scanning his
+features, startled by their ghastly pallor. "What is the matter with
+you, Ossi?--I cannot endure any longer to see you silently suffering
+such pain and distress."
+
+"Nothing," he said dully--"nothing."
+
+"Nothing! Can you--will you say that to me,--to me, your mother! A
+while ago, when you returned from Prague, I thought you changed, but
+you soon recovered; yet all last evening I was conscious that you were
+tormented by some secret anguish. For God's sake, tell me what it is."
+As she spoke she stroked his arms soothingly from the shoulder
+downwards. "If you only knew what torture it is to me to see you suffer
+without being able to help you, or at least to share your pain with
+you!"
+
+The nameless magic of her presence affected him more powerfully than
+ever--her tender caress produced in him the delightful, languid
+sensation of convalescence. For a moment he half-resolved to tell her
+everything, that she might once for all allay his pain. But his cheek
+flushed,--how could he?--no, he must master it of himself. He pressed
+both her hands to his lips.--"Do not ask me, mother, I pray you," he
+murmured, "how often must I repeat that I cannot, try as I may, tell
+you everything."
+
+The Countess gravely shook her head. "That excuse does not satisfy me;
+I can understand that it is easier to speak of certain things to a
+father than to a mother, but don't you know that never since your
+boyhood have I tried to keep you in leading-strings? When did I ever
+play the spy upon your actions, or meddle with what did not concern a
+mother?"
+
+"Never, mother dear, so long as I was well and happy," he assented,
+involuntarily adopting a tone of tender raillery, "but, if I happened
+to hang my head,--oh, then, you were sometimes very indiscreet."
+
+"A son who is ill or unhappy is always about two years old for his
+mother," she said. "Come now, confess; I am an old woman, you can speak
+out before me. I am convinced that your exaggerated conscientiousness
+is leading you to magnify some very commonplace affair;--an old love
+scrape is perhaps casting a shadow over your betrothal...."
+
+"You are mistaken, mamma, there is nothing to trouble me in my past; it
+is all as if it had never been."
+
+"Well, then, what troubles you?"
+
+For a moment he did not speak, then he said in a low tone rather
+hastily, "A wretched nervousness--sorry fancies! Can you believe
+it?--just before you came in, I saw plainly, as plainly as I see you,
+the laughing blind woman come towards me!"
+
+"Are you beginning to suffer from the Lodrin hallucinations?" the
+Countess exclaimed.
+
+The 'Lodrin hallucinations,'--she uttered the words carelessly, without
+reflection. His soul drank them in thirstily.
+
+"Apparently, mamma, but I shall get rid of them, I shall certainly get
+rid of them," he replied in a clear, joyous voice.
+
+"And what other fancies did your nerves suggest?" she asked,
+scrutinizing his face anxiously.
+
+"Loathsome imaginings which sullied my heart and soul, and which I
+tried in vain to banish, foul suspicions of those whom I venerate most.
+I was free from them in your presence only, mother, and that is why I
+have come to you so often of late; these phantoms never dare to assail
+me when I am with you!"
+
+The Countess arose and extinguished the candles; for a while there was
+silence.
+
+"Mother," he said softly, and almost overpowered by sleep as he took
+her hand in his, "tell me what it is that rays out from your hallowed
+eyes, with power to chase all shadows from my soul?"
+
+Again there was silence. For a few minutes she listened to his calm
+regular breathing. He had fallen asleep.
+
+With hands folded in her lap, deadly pale, and with a look of horror in
+her eyes, she remained seated on the edge of the bed. The day had just
+dawned when she arose. Oswald half awoke and opened his eyes. "You here
+still, mamma? Oh what a delicious sleep I have had!"
+
+"Sleep on, my child," she whispered, leaning over him and kissing his
+brow, before she left the room. She glided slowly along the corridor,
+her hand upon her heart. "Shall I have the strength," she murmured,
+"shall I have the strength?"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+If he could only have got hold of these Lodrins,--if he could only have
+found an opportunity to speak with them, he could have humbled their
+pride before now, the Conte said to himself. He was still endeavouring
+to find some such opportunity; yesterday he had positively forced his
+friend the Baroness Melkweyser to drive over at last to Tornow to lay
+at the feet of the Countess Lodrin the antique set of china, albeit not
+in the name of the Conte Capriani, but of her humble servant, Doctor
+Alfred Stein. He was curious to hear what Zoë would have to tell, but
+after her return from Tornow Zoë had incontinently retired to her
+apartment with a violent headache, and the request that a cup of strong
+tea might be sent to her.
+
+The headache lasted all through the next forenoon to the great vexation
+of the Conte, who was, moreover, in extreme bad humour. He was annoyed
+by a trifle, a perfectly absurd trifle, but it had sufficed to stir up
+all the gall in his nature. His _maître d'hôtel_ had given him warning
+this morning, or, as that worthy expressed it, had handed in his
+resignation. When the Conte, who set great store by him, asked him his
+reason for so doing, and whether his salary was not sufficiently large,
+Monsieur Leloir, with the respectful air proper to the well-trained
+servant that he was, but with a distinctness that left nothing to be
+desired, replied that the salary corresponded to his wishes, and he had
+nothing to object to in the treatment that he had received, but--he
+felt too lonely, secluded,--"_Monsieur le Comte voit trop peu de
+monde_."
+
+Two highly satisfactory messages, brought him shortly afterwards by the
+telegraph that connected his study at Schneeburg with the business
+world, did not suffice to drive this vexatious occurrence from his
+mind. He looked considerably sallower than usual when he appeared at
+lunch. All the rest were seated at table when the Baroness Melkweyser
+appeared. In her character of convalescent she wore a gorgeous, brocade
+dressing-gown upon which was portrayed a forest of gigantic sunflowers
+against an olive-green background. Otherwise she betrayed no indication
+of feeble health; her appetite was particularly reassuring.
+
+"You are very subject to headache nowadays," said the Conte, in a tone
+of reproof.
+
+Instead of replying Zoë helped herself for the second time to omelette
+with truffles, and Parmesan cheese.
+
+"Perhaps the long drive was too fatiguing," suggested the mistress of
+the house, always kindly desirous of atoning for her husband's
+rudeness.
+
+"Had you a pleasant visit at Tornow?" asked Fermor.
+
+"It is always pleasant to see dear old friends again," said Zoë curtly.
+Her mood was undeniably irritable; apparently she had laid in a stock
+of arrogance at Tornow, that would last her several days.
+
+"I really must go over to Tornow," said Fermor, "I trust, Baroness,
+that you did not mention my having been here so long; the Countess
+might well think it very strange that I had not been over to see her."
+Kilary smiled, and Fermor went on in his affected, drawling way. "Very
+admirable people, the Lodrins, but they are not very interesting to
+me;--they are too matter-of-fact;--they have too little feeling for
+art."
+
+After lunch, whilst Fermor was testifying to the depth of his feeling
+for art, by improvising on the grand piano an accompaniment to a new
+ode by Paul Angelico, who, in his immortal waterproof, draped like
+Sophocles, stood opposite and read the ode aloud in a sonorous voice
+out of a little volume bound in red morocco, Capriani took occasion to
+draw Zoë Melkweyser aside that he might ask: "Did you have any
+opportunity yesterday to deliver my message to the Countess Lodrin?"
+
+"Yes," replied Zoë drily.
+
+"And what answer have you brought me?"
+
+"The Countess says she is quite ready to purchase the china of you."
+
+"To purchase it of me!" repeated the Conte, pale with anger, "but my
+dear Zoë,"--in moments of great excitement the Conte was wont to call
+the Baroness by her first name,--"but my dear Zoë what did you propose
+to her?"
+
+"Exactly what you told me."
+
+"Indeed?"--the Count drew closer to her, and leaned forward,--"did you
+tell her that I laid the china at her feet, not in the name of the
+Count Capriani, but of the Doctor Stein whom she knew years ago in the
+Riviera?"
+
+"Yes, and I told her that you said you had formerly attended the Count,
+her husband."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"She replied--do you really wish to hear her reply."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, then, she replied, 'that may possibly be so, but I do not
+remember it.'"
+
+The Conte grew still paler, and his face wore an ugly expression;--he
+picked up a paper-knife of beautiful oriental workmanship, and began to
+toy with it restlessly.
+
+"I beg you to observe," Zoë began, "that I am entirely innocent in this
+matter. You certainly remember that I postponed for weeks the delivery
+of your message, and that I fulfilled your commission reluctantly at
+last. I told you beforehand what the result would be; but you were so
+perfectly sure that the Countess would remember the name of Stein...."
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Kilary approaching them. "What agitates you
+so, my dear Capriani."
+
+"The Conte is determined to prove to me that nothing can withstand his
+power, not even a paperknife," said Zoë sharply, pointing to the one
+which the Conte was bending.
+
+"Or the Lodrin arrogance," observed Kilary, "eh? My dear Capriani, in
+my native town in Upper Austria they have an old proverb, 'What can't
+be lifted must be let alone.' Now if you would only take this proverb
+to heart you would save yourself a vast amount of time and vexation."
+
+Just then the paper-knife snapped in two, and the Conte threw the
+pieces on the floor.
+
+"Who is riding past?" asked the baroness, with undisguised curiosity,
+leaning out of the window by which she had been standing.
+
+"It must be Count Kamenz," said Ad'lin, who had been busy encouraging
+by her applause the united, artistic efforts of Fermor and Paul
+Angelico, "I am surprised that he has not paid us a visit before now."
+
+"No, it is the Lodrin cousins," said Kilary, "they are evidently going
+to see Malzin."
+
+Ad'lin looked disappointed. And the Conte turning away from the
+Baroness and Kilary began to pace the room slowly to and fro. After a
+while he paused in front of his wife, who with a sadder face than usual
+was cutting out her cretonne flowers. "You went to see the Malzins
+to-day,--how is he?"
+
+"Very ill; unlike other consumptives, he is perfectly aware of his
+condition, and consequently the future of his children lies heavy on
+his heart. I did my best to comfort him--but that was little enough."
+"Do you know whether he still proposes to go to Gleichenberg?" her
+husband interrupted her.
+
+"Yes, he is getting ready to go. Müller, the old nurse voluntarily
+offered to accompany him; she could not find it in her heart to have
+him waited upon and tended by strangers."
+
+But Müller's touching devotion did not interest Capriani in the least.
+"This is evidently just the time to talk with him about the vault," he
+said as if to himself.
+
+"What do you mean?" exclaimed Frau von Capriani startled out of her
+usual submissive gentleness,--"with an invalid!" ....
+
+"Come, come, let us have no sentimentality!" he interrupted her
+sharply. "You know I understand nothing of the kind."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+In his childhood, beside his father's sick-bed, Oswald had learned how
+to treat an invalid with rare tenderness; but what he never had been
+taught nor could have been taught,--what was his very own nature,--was
+his impetuous, untiring kindheartedness, a kindheartedness that was
+never content with passively theorizing, but always refused to
+discontinue effort even in the case of the most distressing
+emergencies, and always longed to soothe with hope the pain which it
+could not cure.
+
+Fritz, on the day after the dinner, had sent a note to Tornow, telling
+of his sad condition and of his projected journey to Gleichenberg, and
+Oswald and Georges had instantly ridden over to Schneeburg, where they
+found Fritz coughing incessantly, propped up with pillows in a large
+easy-chair before his writing-table, painfully endeavouring to write
+out his last will. Ten minutes of Oswald's presence sufficed to cause
+life to wear a different aspect for Fritz. Oswald scolded him for
+giving them all such a fright with that desponding note of his,
+protested that a man looking as well as he did had no right to depress
+his friends with melancholy forebodings, told of the miracles wrought
+by Gleichenberg on many of his acquaintances, and declared that 'a mere
+hemorrhage' was of very little consequence, particularly in cases like
+Fritz's where consumption was not in the family.
+
+"I had one, when I was a volunteer, after parade one day," he
+concluded, "and I never should know it to-day."
+
+"That must have been something different, Ossi," said Fritz, laughing
+at his friend's earnestness;--the laugh brought on a violent fit of
+coughing. Oswald put his arm around him and supported his head;--"it
+will soon be over, hand him a glass of water, Georges, there...."
+
+"However low down a fellow may be, it lightens his heart to look into
+your eyes, Ossi," said Fritz, taking breath after the cough had gone.
+
+"You're right there, Fritz," Georges agreed, "and yet there's no more
+inflammable, and momentarily unjust man in the world, than he."
+
+"Yes, but then...." began Fritz.
+
+"Now be quiet," Oswald ordered, "the best thing for you to do would be
+to lie down for a while, and we will do our best to entertain you
+without making you laugh."
+
+"Thanks," said Fritz, "but I .... I should like to say something to you.
+When a man stands on the brink of the grave...."
+
+"Aha, you are posing again as an interesting invalid," Oswald rallied
+him; "well--Georges, go down stairs and pay your respects to Pipsi,
+there's a good fellow; I hear her chattering with her little brother
+beneath the window;--I know how pleased Fritz is with your visit, but,
+just now, you are a little in the way."
+
+Georges laughed, and withdrew bowing low.
+
+They were left alone in the long, low room; against the windows the
+leaves of the old apricot-trees rustled dreamily, and the air was
+fragrant with the scent of the last flowers of summer. The portraits of
+Fritz's parents and of their Imperial Majesties looked down from the
+wall, their outlines rather vague in the darkened apartment, and on the
+old door-jamb, scored with the children's names a prismatic sunbeam was
+playing.
+
+"Now tell me, Fritz, what is the matter? You know there is no need of
+any beating about the bush between us," said Oswald leaning towards the
+sick man, "speak low, I can hear you."
+
+Fritz fixed his gaze upon the door-jamb where among the old names two
+new ones had been written, 'Pipsi five, Franzi three years old.' "God
+knows, I have no reason to cling to life," he said with a sigh, "and
+yet my heart is sore at the thought that next year I shall--make no
+mark there!--Poor children!--who will care for them when I am gone?"
+His voice broke, and it was with difficulty that he kept back the
+tears. "I have taken a great deal of pains with them, and hitherto they
+have been good little things,--at least so they seem to me ...."
+
+"Your children are charming," was Oswald's warm assurance.
+
+"Are they not?" gasped Fritz, and his hollow eyes sparkled, "but they
+are still so little--when I am dead they will run wild. Capriani will
+not let them starve--assuredly not; but _how_ will he provide for
+them?--and my wife agrees with him in everything--that is the worst of
+it;--Ossi, in my will I have expressed a wish that my children should
+be separated from their mother. She does not care for them very much; I
+think she would be glad to be rid of the burden of bringing them
+up .... and I have begged you--you will not take it ill of me, Ossi,...."
+he hesitated.
+
+"Would you like me to be their guardian?"
+
+"Ah, Ossi!"
+
+"Then that is settled," said Oswald, holding out his hand, "and,
+moreover, my mother told me to tell you that when I am married she
+should have nothing more to do, and would take pleasure in attending to
+the education of your little ones. You can hardly ask anything better
+for them."
+
+"Ah, Ossi, your mother is an angel!"
+
+"Indeed she is," said Oswald gravely.
+
+"She is well?"
+
+"No, she was very weary to-day at dinner, she had a sleepless night
+from anxiety on my account--my poor mother! And now since your mind is
+easy on all points, old fellow, it is to be hoped that you'll torment
+yourself no longer with gloomy forebodings, but do your best to get
+well and strong. Let us recall our poor exiled Georges, shall we
+not--_ça_! who's there? some one knocked!"
+
+"Come in!" said Fritz.
+
+Conte Capriani entered, a roll of parchment in his hand.
+
+Oswald winced.
+
+"For Heaven's sake stay," panted Fritz, holding his friend fast by the
+wrist.
+
+"Yes, pray stay, my dear Count," said Capriani, who must have heard
+Fritz's words, or had understood his gesture. "I knew that I should
+meet you here, but what I have to arrange with our friend, Malzin,
+might as well be discussed before a hundred witnesses. I am really glad
+to see you again--our last conversation came to so sudden a
+termination," and the Conte familiarly held out his hand to the young
+man.
+
+Oswald measured him from head to foot with a haughty glance, and put
+his hand in his pocket. Then leaning his elbow upon the high back of
+Fritz's easy-chair, he stood motionless while Capriani angrily pushed a
+chair near to the table and sat down.
+
+"So, my dear Malzin, you are off for Gleichenberg," he began, with his
+left thumb stuck into the arm-hole of his waistcoat, and his right hand
+resting on the roll of parchment on his knee.
+
+Oswald's gaze was fixed with a strange curiosity upon the face of the
+stock-gambler; all the loathsome ideas which had sullied his soul of
+late recurred to him; how disgraceful, nay how ridiculous his foul
+suspicions seemed when confronted with the flesh and blood Capriani.
+
+Meanwhile the Conte, irritated to the last degree by the young Count's
+cold stare, continued, "You must, of course, be desirous of settling
+your affairs, Malzin, before your departure. Under present
+circumstances you ought to be glad to be able to provide for the future
+of your children."
+
+"Certainly; I have discussed it fully with my relatives," murmured
+Fritz, trembling with agitation, and clasping his thin hands on the
+table.
+
+"Discussed?--that can lead to nothing," Capriani asserted, "I see, I
+see, the same loose way of attending to business. A matter of such
+importance ought to be definitely settled. It is time for you to listen
+to reason, as regards that vault; of course we all hope that you will
+return from Gleichenberg sound and well, but we must be prepared for
+the worst. If you close your eyes to this you leave your children
+unprovided for, and you, you alone will be to blame, seeing that by
+merely executing this deed of sale for that burial-vault--downright
+rubbish--you will receive the extremely handsome and liberal sum of
+thirty thousand gulden. Now, pray be reasonable."
+
+The Conte spread the parchment out on the table before Fritz, dipped a
+pen in the ink, and handed it to him.
+
+The tears came into the wretched man's eyes. "My poor children!" he
+groaned and took the pen.
+
+On the instant Oswald snatched the fateful parchment from the table,
+and threw it on the floor; "You shall not sign it, Fritz!" he
+exclaimed, his voice hoarse with indignation; then turning to the
+Conte, he said sharply, "You see that my cousin is not equal to the
+excitement of an interview like the present. May I beg you to leave
+us?"
+
+The Conte sprang up, his breath came in quick gasps, and a dark menace
+shot from the eyes that he rivetted upon the young man's face.
+
+"May I beg you to leave the room," Oswald repeated with icy disdain.
+
+"You show me to the door?"--the Conte said, beside himself with
+rage,--"you dare to do this to me--you--were not my hints the other day
+plain enough?...."
+
+Oswald lost all self-control; "Scoundrel! Liar!" he gasped hoarsely.
+His riding-whip lay on the table--he seized it and pointed to the door;
+"Begone!" he thundered.
+
+For an instant Capriani hesitated, baleful threatening flashing in his
+eyes. "I am going," he said, "but you shall hear from me!" and the door
+closed behind him.
+
+Quivering with rage, Oswald turned about. "My God! Fritz ....!" he
+exclaimed in terror. Fritz had risen from his chair, and after
+advancing a step, had fallen drenched in blood beside his couch!
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+The hemorrhage had at last been arrested, the doctor sent for, and the
+sick man put to bed. Oswald was sitting beside him, awaiting the
+arrival of the physician. From time to time he whispered a comforting
+word to the invalid or gave him a bit of ice. Some one gently lifted
+the latch of the door. "Ossi!" Georges called softly.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Capriani has sent this note to you."
+
+"To me? Let me have it."
+
+Oswald took the note and retired to the bedside again. Shortly
+afterward he appeared in the adjoining room where Georges was, his eyes
+filled with gloom, his face ghastly pale.
+
+"What does the dog say?"
+
+"He asks where his second can find me, as I might not like to receive
+him beneath my mother's roof. He is right--!"
+
+"Second?" Georges interrupted him. "Have you quarrelled?"
+
+"Yes, he was insolent to me and to Fritz, and so I called him a
+scoundrel and turned him out of the room."
+
+"And you are going to accept his challenge?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"You, you mean to fight with Conte Capriani--with a wretched swindler,
+with no claim to the satisfaction of a gentleman? Are you insane? Do
+you not see how such a duel must degrade you?--Show me his letter that
+I may know what to do, and then let me go to him. I assure you that the
+matter can be settled in a quarter of an hour; it is nothing but empty
+brag on his part."
+
+"I tell you that I insist upon this duel," exclaimed Oswald, beside
+himself.
+
+"Upon a duel with an adventurer who, with his money, comes from no one
+knows where? It is impossible, downright impossible! Show me his
+letter."
+
+Oswald changed colour, felt in his pocket--"I have not got it,--I threw
+it away--" he stammered disconnectedly, "moreover, the letter has
+nothing to do with the matter. Go to him,--it is against all rule,--but
+I will not have his seconds cross my threshold. One second is enough
+for me, I will not have another dragged into this disgusting affair.
+Arrange everything with Kilary, and as soon as possible--pistols!"
+
+"Pistols?--at thirty-five paces?"
+
+"Fifteen if he chooses,--or for all I care across a handkerchief!"
+
+Georges went close up to his cousin, and looked into his eyes as if to
+read his very soul; then he drew a long breath and said, "You are not
+alone in the world, Ossi,--you have a mother and a betrothed who
+idolize you! and yet you would hazard your life for the sake of a
+single angry outburst, for a mere whim; you would accept the challenge
+of a man who, spurred on by envy and wounded vanity, is capable of
+anything, and to die by whose hand could only disgrace you? And all
+because--because you are possessed for the moment by some fixed
+delusion which makes life intolerable to you!" Oswald winced. Georges
+went on, "The only one who could gain anything by your death is
+myself,--and God knows I would give my life at any moment to save
+yours! I do not grudge you the position that you occupy."
+
+"What do you mean? What stuff are you talking," Oswald interrupted
+him imperiously; his face was still ashy pale, and his voice sounded
+harsh--"'You do not grudge me the position that I occupy!'--Perhaps you
+think you have a right to it?"
+
+"But, Ossi!--How can you--? you are beside yourself--you are insane!"
+ejaculated Georges, utterly confounded.
+
+"Yes, yes,--I have known it for some time, Georges, I am losing my
+reason!" Oswald murmured in broken, weary tones. He groped for support,
+sank into a chair, and covering his face with his hands, sobbed like a
+child.
+
+There was a long pause. At last Oswald raised his head. "Now, go!" he
+said in a sharp tone of command, such as he had never before used to
+his cousin. "Go to him--pistols--and soon. If you will not go, I will
+send Pistasch,--judge for yourself whether that would improve matters!"
+
+And Georges shrugged his shoulders and went.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X.
+
+
+As soon as he was alone Oswald took the Conte's fateful letter from his
+pocket, and read it through once more.
+
+No! he had read it aright, there it stood in black and
+white!.... "After what I have thus told you," so the letter concluded,
+"it is evident that a duel between us two can be nothing but a mere
+formality--it is, however, a formality which I demand as due to my
+honour as a man ...."
+
+He must go to his mother and show her the letter; there was nothing
+else to be done--nothing--! He must know whether he had the right to
+shoot him down like a dog, or .... He was overcome by a sudden
+dizziness, and the thought occurred to him, 'What if I should faint
+away, and some one should find this letter here and read it--!' He
+rose, lit a match and burnt the letter, with a feeling akin to relief
+when nothing remained of the disgraceful document, save a few ashes.
+
+George's words recurred to him; evidently Georges suspected something
+wrong, that was clear,--but what? the contents of that letter he could
+not suspect. But what if it were true? What if some one should discover
+it? Every one would flee from him, even those who had loved him most.
+And on a sudden he himself felt a fearful, paralysing disgust at the
+blood in his veins! A dull lump seemed to rise in his throat,--it
+choked him. 'But it cannot be,' he said to himself, 'it cannot be.'
+Then he sat still for a long time, scarcely daring even to think; he
+himself did not know for how long, but when at last the door opened and
+Georges entered, he noticed that it had begun to grow dark.
+
+"Well--the affair is settled!" began Georges gloomily.
+
+"For when?"
+
+"To-morrow morning at six o'clock--devil that he is, it could not be
+soon enough for him; he pretended that he must leave for Paris in the
+evening; probably he thought that if the duel were delayed you might
+reconsider it, and instead of giving him satisfaction for the insult of
+which he complains, add to it the thrashing which he deserves."
+
+Oswald sat leaning his head on his hand and did not speak.
+
+"God knows, I would not have gone to him," Georges went on, "if I had
+not hoped to arrange matters amicably, even against your will,--if I
+had not thought I could persuade him to withdraw his crazy challenge!
+But the swindler has resolved to fight you; it is the greatest social
+triumph that he has achieved in all the years that he has been trying
+to climb. Kilary told me, in so many words, that it was only for show,
+that it was to be a mere formality,--but--. Even that cynic, Kilary,
+declares that he cannot understand your condescension. Well, you rank
+so high in public opinion, that people will only wonder at your
+eccentricity. Will you say good-bye to Fritz, or shall we go
+immediately?"
+
+Fritz had fallen asleep, Oswald would not disturb him, and so they rode
+off.
+
+There must have been a storm in the neighbourhood; the air had grown
+cooler, a light wind whirled the dust aloft. Heavy broken clouds were
+driving overhead, and where the sun had set there was a glow as of a
+conflagration, as if the sun in descending had set fire to the clouds.
+The red light slowly faded, and all colours were merged in melancholy,
+uniform gray.
+
+The two men rode on in silence, which was broken at last by Oswald;
+"Georges, I know that if this affair turns out badly to-morrow you will
+be blamed for your share in it, blameless though you be. Wherefore I
+will leave a letter behind me, telling how I absolutely forced you to
+be my second."
+
+"What an idea!" exclaimed Georges angrily; then he added
+affectionately--"if so terrible a misfortune should occur, I should
+have neither heart nor head to care what people said! Moreover, after
+what Kilary told me, there can be no chance of any tragical conclusion
+to the affair."
+
+"One never can tell," rejoined Oswald.
+
+Georges was startled, and after a short pause began. "Don't be
+childish, Ossi! It depends entirely upon you whether this duel ends
+harmlessly or not;--there's not much honour to be gained in provoking a
+mad dog. Since you condescend--to my utter mystification--to fight with
+Capriani, do not irritate him by disdainful conduct on the ground. A
+very minute portion of courtesy will suffice to satisfy him,--but thus
+much is absolutely necessary!"
+
+Oswald made no reply. After a while he turned his horse. "Where are you
+going?" asked Georges.
+
+In a constrained, unnatural voice Oswald replied. "You ride on towards
+home, I should like to go to Rautschin to see Gabrielle, before...."
+
+Georges, who had failed to understand so much in his cousin's behaviour
+through the day, thought this desire at least quite natural. He let
+Oswald go, and rode on alone to Tornow. He looked round once after
+Oswald, and was surprised to see him ride so slowly,--he was walking
+his horse.
+
+What the young man wanted was,--not to clasp his betrothed in his
+arms,--all that he wanted by this prolongation of his ride was the
+postponement of the interview with his mother. When he reached
+Rautschin he stopped short and looked up at the windows of the castle.
+He thought of the first happy days of his betrothal in Paris; image
+after image passed before his mind with beguiling sweetness;--for a
+moment he forgot everything.
+
+The windows of the corner drawing-room where the family were wont to
+pass their evenings were open;--he listened. He could hear them
+talking, and could distinguish Zinka's soft, somewhat veiled tones, and
+the sweet, childlike voice of his betrothed, but without catching her
+words;--once he heard her laugh merrily, almost ungovernably. When was
+it that he had last heard that very laugh? He shuddered,--it was on the
+evening of his betrothal in the Avenue Labédoyère--when Zoë Melkweyser
+had unfolded her ridiculous mission.
+
+And from out the past resounded distinctly on his ear; "Gabrielle and
+the son of the Conte Capriani--! Gabrielle and the son of Capriani!"
+
+He struck his forehead with his fist.--Over the low wall on this side
+of the castle, that separated the park from the road, hung the branch
+of a rose-bush heavy with Marèchale Niel roses. Oswald plucked one,
+kissed it, and tossed it through the open window of the drawing-room.
+"Good-night, Gabrielle!" he called up.
+
+When she came to the window to bid him welcome, she saw only a horseman
+enveloped in a cloud of dust trotting quickly past the castle in the
+direction of the little town.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+Night had set in, and Oswald had not yet returned to Tornow. The
+Countess was waiting for him, sitting beside a table whereon stood a
+lamp with a rose-coloured shade. Georges had told her that her boy had
+gone round by the way of Rautschin, which she had thought quite
+natural, but none the less was she anxious for his return.
+
+The clock struck a quarter past ten; perhaps he had returned after all
+and had not come to her. But no, he would certainly have come to ask
+after her health; he had thought her looking ill to-day, and had been
+anxious about her, had tenderly begged her to lie down for a while to
+recover the sleep that she had lost on his account. She had tried to
+smile at him unconcernedly, but it had been a hard task; a casual
+remark by Pistasch that morning had informed her of Oswald's interview
+with Capriani in Prague, at which no one else had been present, and
+which had agitated him excessively. She divined his misery. His love
+for her, and his confidence in her were so unbounded that he regarded
+his torturing suspicion as an _idée fixe_. Perhaps this temporary
+distress of his would pass away without its cause ever being mentioned
+between them. God grant it might! But if not? If he should come to
+her to-day or to-morrow and say 'Mother I cannot of myself be rid of
+this,--forgive me, mother, if I lay down at your feet this burden that
+oppresses me, and beg you to soothe my pain!'
+
+She shuddered as this possibility occurred to her. What answer should
+she make? 'Shall I have the strength to lie?' she asked herself, and
+then she told herself, 'I must find the strength; what do I care about
+myself? My whole life for years has been falsehood and deceit,--but he
+must have peace--his life I must save!'
+
+She knew that if she could succeed in uttering this lie calmly, his
+suspicion would be laid at rest forever, that no evidence in the world
+would prevail with him against her word. How she should continue to
+live on after this lie, was quite another thing, but she could die, and
+God knew she would willingly lay down her life for her child.
+
+She tried to shake off these evil forebodings. All that she dreaded
+might never come to pass; surely she might succeed, by preserving a
+calm, circumspect demeanour, in slaying his doubt, in destroying his
+suspicion without recurring to a direct falsehood.
+
+Poor woman! Upright to a rare degree as was her nature in its essence,
+it became distorted beneath the terrible burden weighing on her, and
+she was ready to resort to every petty artifice that could afford her
+any stay in her miserably false position! She had buried her sin deep,
+deep, and had reared above it a wondrous temple sacred to all that is
+fairest, noblest, and most unselfish in the world. So grand and firm
+was this temple towering aloft to the blue skies, that she dreamed it
+would endure forever. She trusted it would. Out of love for her child
+she had grown devout. For years she had prayed the same prayer every
+evening: "Oh God! I thank Thee for my dear, noble child--accept his
+excellence, as an atonement for my sin!"
+
+She believed that God had heeded her prayer, nay, she even believed, in
+her boundless affection for her child, that God had wrought a miracle
+in her behalf! She forgot that the great mysterious Power that shapes
+our destinies never transgresses the laws that it has made, and that
+the consequences of our guilt inexorably pursue their way, until their
+natural expiation is fulfilled. In this case that expiation took a
+shape far different from any that a mother's tender heart could have
+devised.
+
+The clock had struck eleven. Her anxiety increased although she could
+not have defined her dread. Her windows were open, she listened;--at
+last there was the sound of hoofs, the jingle of a bit and bridle. She
+breathed a sigh of relief.
+
+A few moments elapsed, and then a weary, lagging step came along the
+corridor to her door;--why did that step instantly reveal to her that
+the decisive moment had come? There was a knock at her door,--Oswald
+entered. "Forgive me for disturbing you so late, mamma," he said in a
+tone lacking all animation, "I saw your light from below...."
+
+"Late?--it is hardly eleven o'clock; you know that you never disturb
+me, dear child. Since when have you learned to knock at my door? The
+next thing you will send in your name."
+
+The forced gayety of her tone did not escape him. "Oh, I did not
+know--I--" he murmured vaguely, dropping, without kissing, the hand
+which she extended to him; then he took a seat near her, but outside of
+the little oasis of light shed by the lamp on the table beside the
+Countess.
+
+"You came home by the way of Rautschin?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are they all well there?"
+
+"I do not know; I did not go in, it was too late."
+
+"And Fritz? How is the poor fellow?"
+
+"Very ill!"
+
+"Did you give him my message?"
+
+"Yes, he sends you his thanks."
+
+Oswald seemed metamorphosed. Never before had he answered her so
+curtly; she glanced at him anxiously, he was sitting leaning forward,
+his elbows on his knees, his head resting on his hand like one longing
+to carry out a terrible resolve.
+
+A distressing silence ensues. He feels as if he were about to ask of a
+competent authority whether or not there be a God. He cannot bring
+himself to do it, and then too how shall he shape the fearful
+question?--how can he utter anything so vile in her presence?--he who
+all his lifelong would rather have blasphemed in a church than have
+spoken an evil syllable before his mother!
+
+The minutes pass; tick, tick, goes the antique watch with the silver
+face on the Countess's writing-table. He clears his throat.
+
+"Mother!" he begins.
+
+She interrupts him. "I feel very ill, Ossi!" she says, rising with
+difficulty from her arm-chair, "give me your arm, I should like to go
+to bed."
+
+But he gently urges her back in her chair again. "Only a moment,
+mother; I have something to say to you,--I cannot spare you!"
+
+"Well--say it then!" She sits erect, deadly pale, clutching the arms of
+her chair; he stands before her, one hand resting on the table, his
+eyes cast down.
+
+"It will not pass my lips," he murmurs, "it will not;--my _idée fixe_
+has assailed me again with a strength that I cannot master, try
+as I may,--it perverts and absorbs my sense of duty, my
+conscientiousness.--Mother....!" the blood rushes to his face,
+"Mother--could you forgive me if, in a fit of madness, I struck you in
+the face?"
+
+Can she ever forget the imploring, despairing tone of his voice?
+
+"Yes, what do you wish?--I cannot understand--" she stammers.
+
+He gazes at her in surprise. "Mother!" he exclaims--his breath comes
+short and quick, when, as though repeating memorised phrases, he says,
+"Capriani and I have quarrelled--to revenge himself upon me he has
+written me a letter in which he says that you----" he sees her sudden
+start--"Great God! can you dream of what he accuses you?"
+
+She gasps for breath, her lips part, she tries with all her strength to
+say "no!"--has God stricken her dumb? Struggle as she may only a faint
+gasp issues from her lips, no word can she speak!
+
+"Mother!" he moans, "Mother!" She is mute.
+
+The ground seems to rock beneath his feet, the outlines of every object
+grow indistinct, dissolve into undefined spots of colour which fade and
+mingle.
+
+For a moment he stands as if turned to stone; then he turns towards the
+door, walking slowly as if under a crushing weight,--on a sudden he
+hears the rustle of skirts behind him, two frail, ice-cold hands clasp
+his arm;--half-fainting his mother crouches beside him on the floor.
+"My son! my child!" she gasps "Have mercy!"
+
+But he loosens the clasp of her hands, without impatience, without
+anger, with the apathy of a man whose heart has been slain in his
+breast, and leaves the room.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+It was over,--over and gone,--sentence had been pronounced,--her
+child's life was destroyed. This she repeated to herself again and
+again, without any clear comprehension of the fact, as she lay, still
+half-stunned, on the floor where she had sunk down when he left her.
+After a while she staggered to her feet, and began to move aimlessly to
+and fro, steadying herself at times by grasping a chair or table. At
+last she sank into a seat, her memory had given way;--she asked herself
+the meaning of the dull weight at her heart, her eyes wandered vaguely
+around, her thoughts dazed by agony groped backward through the past,
+and forward through the future, finding no resting-place. She recalled
+her child's birth, and how every one rejoiced in it, except herself;
+when the doctor showed her the little thing as a perfect model of a
+baby, did she not thrust it from her impatiently? Farther back, beyond
+Oswald's birth, all light faded--everything was dark. That within her
+which had sinned had been so long, so completely dead; a woman capable
+of such a lofty ideal, whom maternal affection had so entirely purified
+and refined, could not but lose all comprehension of her past. All her
+inner life preceding the hours of Oswald's life, was to her mental
+consciousness misty and undefined; the birth of her child had revealed
+a new world to her, and though for years she had denied it, and had
+crushed down the mother in her, it was none the less true that after
+his birth she had no interest save her child. Urgent regard for her
+health prompted the physician to order that she should nourish
+the boy herself, if only for the first two months of his life; she
+obeyed him fretfully, eyeing the child suspiciously--nay, well-nigh
+malignantly,--when it was first placed in her arms, and then .... then
+she enjoyed it, and longed for the hours when her baby was to be
+brought to her, and when the two months were over, and the physician
+informed her that she could now without detriment to her health hand
+over the child to a hired nurse, she was angry, and felt strangely
+vexed with the man, who after all had thought only to please her in
+relieving her of what he supposed was an intolerable burden. What was
+intolerable to her was the idea of laying her child on the breast of a
+stranger, and for an instant she was on the point of flatly refusing to
+do it. But no, that would have been too eccentric, and she gave the boy
+up. For a couple of days she feared she should lose her reason, so
+consumed was she with restless jealousy; she could not sleep at night,
+and when the hours came round at which her baby had usually been
+brought to her, she trembled from head to foot, and sometimes burst
+into tears of agitation and longing. She could not forget the warm
+little bundle that had lain upon her knees, and the boy had thriven so
+well in her arms, had begun to be so pretty, to smile back at her and
+to gaze slowly about him in solemn surprise, after the fashion of such
+human atomies, to whom everything around is strange, and a deep
+mystery. Still she conquered herself and avoided all sight of the
+child, trying to divert her mind, but--'the wine of life was drawn.'
+
+The child's existence caused her infinite torment; she was not one whom
+shams could satisfy. She called everything by its right name, and this
+foisting of a false heir upon the Lodrins she called, in her soul a
+crime. Sometimes she wished he would die--that would have untangled
+everything;--good Heavens! how many children die! but he--was never
+even ill, he throve and grew strong.
+
+The Count, who had never before ventured upon the slightest
+remonstrances with his headstrong wife, now reproached her continually
+for her neglect of the child. She listened to him with brows gloomily
+contracted and lips compressed, but said not a word in reply. In winter
+she could contrive never to see the boy, but in summer this was more
+difficult, especially at times when her husband declared that he could
+receive no guests at the castle, that he wished to be alone. She
+could hardly set foot in the park without hearing soft childish
+laughter, or without seeing some plaything, or the gleam of a little
+white dress among the bushes. Once, on a lovely day in June, after a
+thunder-shower, as she was walking in the park she suddenly noticed two
+tiny footprints on the damp gravel. She stood still, her eyes riveted
+upon the delicate outlines, when from the shrubbery close at hand a
+little creature toddled up to her, grasped her dress with his chubby
+hands and looked up roguishly at her out of his large dark eyes. But
+she extricated herself, and hurried past the little man so quickly and
+impatiently, that he lost his balance and fell down. What else could
+she do but turn and look at him....? Had he cried like other children
+of his age it would probably have made no impression upon her; but he
+sat stock-still, his little legs stretched out straight, and gazed at
+her in indignant surprise like, a little king to whom homage had been
+denied. He could not understand it. He was a comical little fellow,
+with tiny red shoes, a white frock that did not reach to his bare
+knees, and a broad-brimmed, starched, linen hat tied beneath his chin,
+shading his charming little face. In a flash her heart was conscious of
+a consuming thirst; she stooped and lifted him in her arms.
+
+Some children there are who dislike to be caressed, and will fretfully
+turn away their heads from their mother's kisses, but little Ossi was
+of a different stamp, and responded with a bewitching readiness to his
+mother's tenderness, nestling his head on her shoulder with a satisfied
+chuckle, and pressing his little lips to her cheek. For just one moment
+she resolved to yield, she would forget everything, and take her fill
+of kisses, and of delight in his beauty, in his bright eager looks, and
+in the droll way in which words, robbed of every harsh consonant by
+rosy little lips, came rippling like the twittering of birds.
+
+"Papa!--Papa!" the child shouted. She looked round,--there stood the
+old Count watching her in mute delight.
+
+"Has he conquered you too at last?" he exclaimed, "there's no finer
+little fellow in all Austria than our Ossi!" And he held out his hands
+to the child. She let him be taken from her, and without a word walked
+away toward the castle. Ah, what a wretched night she passed after this
+episode! No, she would not think of him, it hurt too much.
+
+Time passed; for weeks she would not look at him; then suddenly she
+would appear when he was taking his lessons, and for a couple of days
+she would watch him with a morbid intensity which sometimes degenerated
+into lurking distrust; then finding nothing to justify the distrust she
+would again turn from him.
+
+In spite of his excellent disposition the boy might perhaps have grown
+up a good-natured but inconsiderate egotist, had not Count Lodrin taken
+an unwearied interest in his training, guiding him aright with the most
+affectionate gentleness. The influence of the frail old man upon the
+child was invaluable. In the society of an invalid so tender and so
+loving, the boy learned what he could have learned nowhere else,--to
+bow before weakness, and helplessness, the only two potentates whose
+sway natures as proud as Oswald's acknowledge. He learned to refine his
+innate haughtiness by the most considerate delicacy towards his
+inferiors, and to consider his pride as inseparable from devotion to
+duty and an impregnable sense of honour.
+
+Sometimes the Countess would steal to the door of the library, where
+the father and son were wont to talk together, and would listen. She
+did so once when the old man was seriously reproving the boy for some
+rudeness that he had shown towards his tutor.
+
+"I know it, papa, I am wrong, but Herr Müller is a coarse kind of man,
+and I cannot abide coarseness," she heard the boy say, and the old man
+rejoined gently, "He is unfortunate, Ossi, remember that before all.
+How, think you, could he endure his lot if in his veins ran such blood
+as yours?"
+
+All things swam before the mother's eyes, as with downcast looks she
+hurried away, locked herself in her room and wrung her hands.
+
+                               *   *   *
+She never addressed a kind word to him, treating him with studied
+indifference, with almost malignant severity. Under such treatment the
+boy suffered, grew pale, thin, and nervous. Then came a damp, warm
+autumn, the skies were every day veiled behind leaden clouds,--it
+drizzled continually without actually raining, and the leaves instead
+of falling rotted on the trees. A terrible epidemic broke out in the
+country around Tornow, and raged like a pestilence, carrying off victim
+after victim, until at last it appeared in the market town itself.
+
+The Count, fanatically faithful as ever to the duties of his position,
+would not leave Tornow for fear of increasing the panic, but he
+entreated his wife to go away and take the boy with her, but this she
+obstinately refused to do, not even allowing Oswald with his tutor to
+be sent to her relatives.
+
+One morning the Count came to her saying, "Ossi has the fever! The
+disease is of a malignant and contagious character; it is quite
+unnecessary that you should expose yourself to it, Schmidt and I can
+take care of him." Whereupon he left her.
+
+She was fearfully agitated; the hour of her liberation was perhaps
+about to strike; she determined not to lift a finger to save the
+child's life. She forced herself to keep away from his sick-room for
+several days; the boy rapidly grew worse; for his recovery the Count
+had mass said in the chapel of the castle, although he himself was not
+present at it,--he would not leave the child's bedside; but of course
+the Countess attended at the religious celebration. She was very
+generally beloved by her servants, but on that day she could see on
+their faces ill-concealed surprise, nay, scarce-repressed indignation,
+beneath their conventional expression of respect.
+
+After the Elevation the chaplain delivered a short discourse in which
+he praised the sick boy's amiable qualities, and requested all to join
+him in imploring God's grace for the heir of the house. Tears ran down
+the cheeks of all the old servants while the priest prayed, but the
+Countess kneeled on her _prie-dieu_, her face pale, her eyes tearless,
+her lips scarcely moving.
+
+The day wore on; hour after hour passed into eternity, the early
+autumnal twilight descended from the gray clouds upon the earth, and
+gradually deepened to black night; throughout the castle reigned
+unbroken silence, and not even outside was heard the sound of a falling
+leaf. The Countess's pulses throbbed with a feverish longing for her
+child, that nearly drove her mad. She wondered if he in turn did not
+feel a yearning for her presence?--if his grief at her absence from his
+sick-bed did not aggravate the disease?--how if it were killing him?
+She pictured him borne away upon the dark, swiftly-rushing stream of
+eternity so close beside her that she might have stretched forth her
+hand to save him,--and she dared not! Oh, that she could have commanded
+fate, "Take him, I will not keep him, but take me too!"
+
+Minutes grew to hours; perhaps at that very instant he was breathing
+his last. She sprang up,--she would not nurse him back to life, no, but
+she must see him once more, once more clasp him to her heart before he
+died.
+
+She hurried to the door of the sick-room, listened, and heard the low
+monotonous moan that is wrung from a half-conscious sufferer. She
+entered; at the foot of the bed sat the old Count, bent and weary.
+Schmidt, Oswald's old nurse, was applying a cold, wet towel to the
+boy's forehead. The Countess took it from her, thrust her aside with
+jealous haste, and herself laid the wet cloth upon her son's head.
+Strange! at the touch of her hand he opened his eyes, and even in his
+half-unconscious state, recognised her with a faint, wondering smile.
+
+From that hour she never left his bedside. The famous physician in whom
+she had great confidence, and for whom she telegraphed to Vienna,
+frequently declared afterwards: "Never have I seen a child nursed with
+such devotion by a mother!"
+
+She tended him like a sister of charity,--like a maid-servant. She
+gloried in his refusal to allow any one else to wait upon him, that he
+screamed with pain when another hand than hers touched him, that he
+turned from his medicine if she did not administer it.
+
+The crisis passed; the physician pronounced all danger over if no
+unforeseen relapse occurred. This he made known to the Count and
+Countess in the antechamber of the sick-room, whither they had
+withdrawn to hear his opinion. When the Count feelingly thanked him for
+saving his child's life, Doctor M .... denied that any credit was due to
+him, "my share," said he, "in this fortunate result is but trifling;
+the recovery of our little patient is owing solely to the wonderful
+nursing that he has been blessed with," and turning to the Countess he
+added respectfully, "Your Excellency may say with pride that your child
+owes his life to you for the second time."
+
+The ground seemed to reel beneath her,--she could have shouted for joy,
+and yet never in her life had she been so wretched as at this blissful,
+terrible moment. Without a word she returned to the sick-room, and sat
+down by the little white bed; she motioned to Schmidt who had been
+watching the boy's sleep, to retire, she wanted to be alone with her
+child. He was sleeping soundly, his breath came and went regularly, and
+his brown head rested comfortably on the pillow. She could not look
+long enough at the dear little emaciated face, wearing now a smile in
+sleep. He was like herself, his every feature resembled hers, his
+straight, broad brow, the short, delicately chiselled nose, the finely
+curved mouth, firm chin, nay, even the gleam of gold in the dark hair
+about the temples, all were her own. Even his hands lying half-closed
+on the coverlet resembled hers; they were longer and more muscular, but
+they were shaped like hers. How she admired him, how proud she was of
+him in her inmost soul! She had not been able to let him die,--he _owed
+his life to her for the second time!_ It was useless to combat a
+feeling that always gained the upper-hand; but how was she to adjust
+herself to her false position?--what was her duty? This question she
+asked herself in desperate earnest, honestly ready to atone for her
+guilt by any sacrifice. Her stern, cold duty was perhaps to go to her
+husband, confess to him the terrible truth, and then, with her child,
+and with all the means that was her own, depart for some quarter of the
+world where amid strangers she could provide a tolerable existence for
+her boy. She shuddered!--her own disgrace was of no consequence;
+she suffered so fearfully beneath the weight of the falsehood of her
+life, that it would have been a relief to burst its bonds,--but her
+child!--Why, in comparison with the torture to which her confession
+would subject him, it would be merciful to stab him to the heart. He
+was too old and too precocious not to appreciate fully the disgrace of
+his position; he was too proud and too sensitive to find any
+consolation or support under such fearful circumstances in the love of
+a dishonoured mother.
+
+She must continue to carry out the lie. Who would thus be the
+sufferer?--Her own conscience; hers must be the torture! A confession
+would ruin the existence of her husband, and her son, and would
+overwhelm two families with disgrace, while now ....! The only being who
+had any claim to the Lodrin estates was a good-for-naught, who never
+could be to his people what Oswald promised to be. And suddenly she
+seemed to see her duty clear before her, a noble sacrificial duty!
+
+She would so train Oswald that he should fill the station that he
+occupied better than any other could possibly fill it,--his excellence
+should justify her deceit.
+
+She solemnly vowed, by her child's bedside, to watch over his heart and
+soul, to guard his fine qualities like a priceless treasure, to see
+that no breath of evil should ever taint them. Then she bent over him
+and kissed his hands gently. He woke and smiled, whispering, "Mamma,
+will you go on loving me when I am well?"
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Love him indeed! Ah, how she petted and indulged him during his long
+convalescence, how willingly she complied with all his little whims,
+how gladly she submitted to the exactions of his affection, half
+selfish though they were at times, as those of an invalid on the road
+to recovery are so apt to be! How well she knew how to amuse, and
+occupy him! how many games of chess and of cards she played with him!
+how she read aloud for his entertainment, albeit unused to such
+exertion, Cooper's Leatherstocking Tales, and Dumas' _Trois
+Mousquetaires_!
+
+When he had fully recovered, her treatment of him was more serious. She
+kept the vow she had made to herself, she watched his every impulse,
+his every breath, spared no pains to train him to be,--what he must be
+to satisfy her conscience, her pride,--a blessing to all around him.
+She even did what was for her the hardest task of all, she repressed
+her tenderness for him, lest it should make him effeminate. She made it
+her duty, when the time came for him to resume his studies, to engage a
+new tutor for him, and, quite out of patience with the cringing,
+fawning candidates for the position that had hitherto made their
+appearance in Tornow, she wrote to a foreign Professor of her
+acquaintance asking him to aid her in procuring the person whom she
+needed. A month later there came to Tornow a young fellow with the
+lightest possible hair standing up like a brush above a very
+intelligent face, not at all handsome, ruddy, clean-shaven, and with a
+very sympathetic expression. He carried himself erect, and his manner,
+while it was perfectly easy, was never obtrusive. He was much
+interested in his profession of tutor, although he fully recognised its
+difficulties, and it never occurred to him to regard it simply as a
+provision for impecunious scholars whose hopes were bounded by the
+prospect of a future pension. Oswald ridiculed the Prussians, until
+this particular Prussian not only compelled his respect, but won his
+friendship.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+The Countess's social relations dwindled to a point; everything that
+interfered with her care for her child wearied her. She was often
+present while his lessons were going on, she rode with him daily, and
+he and his tutor always took their meals with the Count and Countess.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+She adjusted her life by her boy in every respect. One word from Ossi
+sufficed, where her mother's and her brother's entreaties had failed,
+to produce a change in her hard, impatient bearing towards her invalid
+husband. It was long before she perceived how her conduct in this
+respect wounded Ossi's feelings; she sometimes wondered what depressed
+the boy. It made her anxious, and one day she asked him about it.
+Taking his face tenderly between both her hands she said, "How sad your
+eyes are, Ossi, does anything trouble you?" For a moment he hesitated,
+and then he spoke out bravely. "Mother, dear, you are so very kind to
+every one else; be a little kind to papa!"
+
+She started, turned pale, and left the room without a word; he looked
+after her anxiously. Had he alienated her affection again?
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+No! that which all the arguments and representations of her mother and
+brother had failed to accomplish a couple of words from boyish lips had
+achieved. From that hour she testified towards her invalid husband the
+unvarying respect, the careful regard of a dutiful daughter, and
+although his various, and increasing infirmities,--he lost his
+hearing, and very nearly his eyesight,--becoming at last a complete
+paralytic,--made her tendance upon him most distressing, she was
+never again betrayed into uttering an impatient word. Hers was a hard
+task--especially at the beginning--a very hard task! But what of that?
+Ossi was pleased with her, and that was reward enough! She had learned
+to read his eyes; for love of him she altered everything in herself
+that could displease him, although he himself could not have explained
+why; she purified and strengthened her character day by day, and really
+became the mother that he dreamed her.
+
+The old Count died; Georges Lodrin had disappeared. An American
+newspaper announced his death, and as the announcement was not
+contradicted it was held to be true. Georges was the last heir; at his
+death the property would have escheated to the government; thus the
+Countess need no longer be tormented by the thought that she was
+depriving another of his rights.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Days of cloudless delight ensued; Ossi grew to manhood, left her
+protecting arms, and launched forth upon the broad, perilous stream of
+life, while she, gazing after him anxiously, was forced to stay upon
+the shore. The time was past when tenderly, delicately, and yet with a
+certain shyness of the son already a head taller than herself, she
+could ask to know all of his life, could extort from him his small
+confessions. She had to leave him to himself, with, at times, a secret
+tremor. Only secret, however; she would not interfere with his freedom
+of action. Praise of him greeted her on all sides; she was satisfied
+with her work.
+
+He was like her in every way, even in his faults; but those faults
+which had wrought her ruin,--pride, and passionate blood--became him
+well. There was no throne upon earth that she did not consider him
+worthy to fill, and which should not have been his if she could have
+given it to him; there was no conceivable torture that she would not
+have borne willingly if thereby she could have added to his happiness.
+
+His excellence was her justification; her maternal love was her
+religion.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+She still sat in the same arm-chair where she had resolved to utter the
+falsehood, which, after all, her lips had refused to speak! Her heart
+seemed to have burst in twain, and from it had fallen the whole
+treasury of fair memories which she had stored within it; her slain
+joys lay about her in disarray, shattered, dead. She tried to collect
+them, groping for them in memory; all at once her thoughts hurried to
+the future,--the confusion subsided,--she understood!
+
+She moaned, and stroked back the hair from her temples; her wandering
+glance fell upon a newspaper lying on her table. The date caught her
+eye,--the sixth of August,--she started, the morrow was his birthday!
+She remembered the little surprise she had prepared for him; she had
+selected from among her jewels something very rare and beautiful which
+he could give to his betrothed. Rising from her chair, she said to
+herself aloud, "The marriage is impossible!" Then followed the
+question, "What will he do, how will he live on?"--"Live?" she
+repeated, and on the instant a wild dread assailed her. "For God's
+sake!" she groaned, "that must not be, I must prevent it."
+
+Again her thoughts hurried confusedly through her mind. She would go to
+him, and on her knees before him entreat, "Despise me, curse me, but be
+happy, live to bless those whose fate lies in your hands, and who could
+find no better master. The injustice of it I will answer for here, and
+before God's judgment-seat! Or--if you cannot sustain the burden of
+these unlawful possessions, cast it off. Let my name be blasted, I
+deserve nothing better. But you,--you live, take everything that is
+mine and that is yours of right, and found a new existence for yourself
+wherever it may be!"
+
+She hurried out into the corridor, wild, beside herself. Before his
+door she paused, overcome by a horrible sense of shame,--she could
+never again look him in the face! What would have been the use? Another
+might perhaps compromise philosophically with circumstances. But
+he,--detestation of the blood flowing in his veins, would kill him! She
+raised her arms, and then dropped them at her sides, like some wounded
+bird, that, dying in the dust, makes one last vain effort to stir its
+wings to bear it to its lost heaven. Then she kneeled down and pressed
+her lips upon the threshold of his door before groping her staggering
+way back to her room.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+The mood in which Conte Capriani took his place beside Kilary in the
+victoria that was to carry him to the place of meeting, was a very
+strange one. Never had he felt such pride of victory; his thoughts
+reverted to his first meeting with the beautiful Countess Lodrin at the
+beginning of his career, when with his keen scent for all that was
+lowest in human beings, he had divined her passionate nature, a nature
+held in check with despotic resolution after the great disappointment
+of her early life.
+
+With calculating cunning he had plotted and schemed to get her into his
+power. But when at last he thought he had quelled and broken her pride,
+she suddenly reared her head more haughtily than ever, and thrust him
+from her.--He had not believed such audacity possible!
+
+And now the woman whom he had thought to tread beneath his feet stood
+at so unattainable a height above him, that his treachery was of no
+avail as a weapon against her. How his heart had been consumed by
+futile rage! Only the day before yesterday she had dared to send him
+word by Zoë Melkweyser that she did not remember him.
+
+"But it is my turn now," he thought, "this duel has forced an
+explanation between herself and Oswald,--she has had to humble
+herself before her child!" A fiendish exultation thrilled him to his
+very finger-tips. "At last they must bow before me," he said to
+himself.--"Mother and son, the two haughtiest of the whole haughty
+crowd!"
+
+It never occurred to him that this explanation which he had forced so
+relentlessly upon the mother and son could have results other than
+those which he contemplated. Absolutely content, for the first time in
+his life, he leaned back among the cushions slowly puffing forth big
+clouds of smoke into the fresh morning air, as the carriage approached
+the old monastery of St. Elizabeth.
+
+It was a large building blackened by time, standing quite isolated at
+about half a league from Tornow upon fallow land. Formerly a monastery,
+afterwards a hospital, and then a poor-house, it was now one of those
+melancholy ruins that only await the pickaxe of demolition. The walls
+were dirty, the windows black, with half the panes broken and patched
+up with paper.--Two grape-vines trailed over the grass where once had
+been a garden, and a couple of knotty mulberry-trees grew close to the
+ruinous walls.
+
+Leaning against one of these walls stood an ancient black, wooden
+crucifix; the nail that had held fast the right hand of The Crucified
+had fallen out and the arm hung loose, lending to the rudely-carved
+image a strange reality. It looked as if the Saviour in the death
+struggle had torn away his bleeding hand from the cross to bless
+mankind with it once more.
+
+Beneath the figure of Christ was a tablet with an inscription, the gilt
+letters of which, much faded by time, still glistened in the morning
+sunlight.
+
+The atmosphere was unusually clear, the skies cloudless. Oswald,
+Georges, and old Doctor Swoboda arrived before Capriani; whilst Georges
+and Doctor Swoboda walked about the old building discussing various
+parts of it to keep themselves cool, Oswald leaned against the doorway
+of the old cloister, and gazed silently into the distance. Not a trace
+was perceptible of the irritability which Georges had observed on the
+previous day. His was the repose of one who sees the goal where the
+terrible burden with which destiny has laden him can be cast off.--His
+soul was filled with anguish, but was conscious of the remedy at
+hand.--Release went hand in hand with duty.
+
+Dear old memories arose upon his mind,--vaguely as if obscured by thick
+vapour. His mother's image hovered before him; he clasped his hands
+tightly, stood erect, threw back his head and looked upwards as
+desperate men always do before final exhaustion. His glance fell upon
+the Christ; the tablet at His feet attracted his attention, he
+approached it.
+
+"What have you found there?" asked Georges, with forced carelessness.
+
+"I am only trying to decipher the inscription," replied Oswald.
+
+"The inscription?--'God--God--have....'" Georges spelled out.
+
+"'God have mercy upon us all!'" Oswald read, and at that moment the old
+iron-barred gate of the monastery garden creaked on its hinges,--Kilary
+entered first and Oswald returned his bow with friendly ease. But when
+the Conte, following Kilary closely, bowed with a sweet smile Oswald
+scarcely touched his hat.
+
+The Conte glanced keenly at him; for an instant his eyes encountered
+those of the young man and gazed into their depths, but found nothing
+there save immeasurable disgust.
+
+The conditions of the duel called for thirty paces with an advance on
+each side of ten paces. The seconds measured off thirty paces and at
+the distance of ten paces apart laid two canes down on the grass.
+
+The whole proceeding was to Georges a disgusting farce; he seemed to be
+acting as in a dream, without any will of his own. It was impossible
+that his cousin Oswald Lodrin should condescend to fight with this
+adventurer.
+
+Oswald and the Conte took their places, the seconds gave the signal. On
+the instant Oswald shot wide of the Conte. A brief, dreadful pause
+ensued; the Conte hesitated. With utter disdain in his eyes, his head
+held erect, Oswald advanced; the Conte had never seen him look so
+haughty.
+
+The sight of the handsome set face recalled to the adventurer the
+manifold humiliations that he had been obliged to endure all his
+lifelong at the arrogant hands of 'these people.' All his hatred for
+the entire caste blazed up within him,--all power of reflection gone he
+blindly discharged his pistol!
+
+Oswald felt something like a hard cold blow on his breast,--a crimson
+cloud seemed to rise out of the earth before him, he staggered and
+fell.
+
+"Good God!" exclaimed Georges quite beside himself, as he raised the
+dying man in his arms and held him there while the old Doctor bent over
+him.
+
+Oswald opened his eyes. His mind was somewhat astray,--everything about
+him seemed wavering vaguely; then, in the midst of the terrible,
+chaotic confusion of every sense that precedes dissolution he made a
+mighty effort to grasp and hold a thought that glided indistinctly
+through his half-darkened mind. "Georges," he gasped, "what day of the
+month is it?"
+
+"The seventh of August."
+
+"My birthday."--Suddenly his mind grew clear once more, and there came
+over him the incredible celerity of thought, the wonderful illumination
+of vision of the dying, who in a moment of time grasp the memory of an
+entire life. As the earth slipped away from him he was able to judge
+human weaknesses in the light of eternity.
+
+"Georges!" he began.
+
+"Yes, dear old fellow!" said Georges softly, in a choked voice.
+
+"Tell my mother--and for God's sake do not forget--that for the happy
+twenty-six years that are past I thank her, and that I kiss her dear,
+dear hands in token of farewell!"
+
+He was silent, he breathed with difficulty,--his lips moved again,
+and Georges put his ear down to them that he might understand
+him--"Georges,--if I have ever done you wrong,--you or any one else in
+my life--without knowing it,--then...."
+
+"Ah Ossi, would to God that I could ever lay down my head as calmly and
+proudly as you can," whispered Georges, clasping him closer in his
+arms.
+
+The dying man smiled--possessed by a great calm. He knew that what had
+been his secret was his own forever.
+
+He tried to raise himself a little, rivetting his eyes upon the
+crucifix;--the gilt letters gleamed in the morning light. He lifted his
+hand by an effort, to make the sign of the cross,--Georges guided his
+hand. A bluish pallor appeared upon his features,--twice a tremor ran
+through his limbs, his hands fell clinched by his side--his lips moved
+for the last time. "Poor Ella!" he murmured scarcely audibly.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+God have mercy upon us all!
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+The Countess Lodrin had passed the night without lying down. When her
+maid appeared to see if her mistress were not ill, she had been
+dismissed by a mute wave of the hand. At last, towards morning, sitting
+beside her writing-table, she had fallen into the leaden sleep that is
+wont to follow terrible mental agitation.
+
+The sun was high in the heavens when she awoke with stiffened limbs and
+a dull pain at her heart, but without any distinct consciousness of
+misfortune. She looked around her, and started, perceiving that some
+strange commotion was astir in the castle; she could hear footsteps
+overhead, and outside her door.--She hurried out, the corridor was
+filled with people--people who had no claim to be up here. And all the
+servants were hurrying hither and thither in the confusion of a
+household where some catastrophe has occurred, all weeping, trembling,
+not one showing unsympathetic curiosity, and amongst them was Pistasch,
+vainly trying to quiet the loud howling of Oswald's Newfoundland.
+
+"What is the matter?" the Countess shrieked,--"what has happened?"
+
+But no one had the courage to answer her. She ran to Oswald's
+bedroom--all gazed after her in horror-stricken compassion; they might
+have restrained her, but who could dare to do so? At the door she met
+Georges.
+
+"What is it?" she gasped, clutching his arm, "where is Ossi?"
+
+"In there," he murmured hoarsely, "but ...!"
+
+"'But'--for God's sake tell me what has happened?"
+
+"A duel," said Georges with an effort,--he would fain have detained
+her, would fain have found the conventional phrases with which men
+attempt to break bad news, he could not recall any, and he stammered.
+
+"A duel?" she asked sharply, "with whom?"
+
+"With Capriani;--he...."
+
+Before he could say another word she had opened the door and had
+entered Oswald's room.
+
+They had lain him on his bed,--the noble outlines of his stalwart
+figure were distinctly visible beneath the white sheet;--his face was
+uncovered, and bathed in all the ideal charm of dead youth.
+
+The Countess staggered, tried to hold herself erect, tripped over her
+dress, and fell; then dragged herself on her knees to the bed of her
+dead child. At its foot she lay, her face buried in her hands.
+
+When, two hours afterward, Truyn who had been informed of the frightful
+catastrophe entered the room with Georges Lodrin, she was still
+kneeling in the same place, her head still in her hands.
+
+Profoundly shocked Truyn bent over her, and gently begged her to leave
+the room. She arose mechanically, and leaning upon his arm went to the
+door. There she paused, turned, and hurried back to the bed. They
+feared that force would be necessary to separate her from the dead
+body, when Georges remembered the message entrusted to him by the dying
+man. In the tumult, the horror, in his own terrible grief he had
+forgotten it. "Let me try to persuade her, wait for me here," said he
+to Truyn, and going to the bedside where the Countess was again
+kneeling he whispered: "Aunt, I have a message for you from him; he
+died in my arms, and while dying he thought of you!"
+
+She shrank away from him.
+
+"To-day is his birthday," Georges continued, "he remembered it in his
+last moments and begged me to tell you, and, for God's sake not to
+forget it, that he thanked you for the past happy twenty-six years, and
+that he kissed your dear, dear hands in token of farewell."
+
+The wretched woman, who had hitherto seemed carved out of marble, began
+to tremble violently; a hard hoarse sob burst from her lips.
+
+It was the first warm breath of spring breaking up the ice. She
+instantly rose and threw herself in an agony of tears upon the corpse,
+exclaiming: "My child, my fair, noble boy!"
+
+Georges withdrew; the moment was too sacred to be intruded upon.
+Shortly afterwards she tottered, bent and bowed, from the room. Truyn,
+whom she had not seemed to perceive, offered her his arm, and she
+quietly allowed herself to be led to her own apartment.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+The death of the young man excited universal sympathy. He was mourned
+not only by his relatives and friends, but by all his dependants, the
+peasants on his estates, nay, even by strangers to whom he had only
+been pointed out as he passed by. And on the day when he was buried,
+with all the honours befitting the noble name which he had borne so
+worthily, there was in the whole country round no little child whose
+hands were not folded in prayer for him, no poor labouring woman who
+had ever met him in the road, and whose existence his kindly smile had
+helped to lighten, who did not wear a black apron or a black kerchief,
+in loving memory of him. No one, perhaps, could have told what he or
+she had expected of the young Count, but all felt that with him some
+hope had died, some sunshine had been buried.
+
+Fritz Malzin, the only witness of the insult offered to the Conte, died
+the night before the duel; nothing therefore was known save what the
+Conte chose to tell; the versions of the reasons that had induced
+Oswald's rash acceptance of the Conte's challenge were many and widely
+differing, but not one of them bore the least relation to the truth.
+
+As Oswald had foreseen, his relatives overwhelmed Georges with
+reproaches for the part he had borne in a duel between his cousin and a
+parvenu. But the letter to Truyn which Oswald left behind, exculpated
+Georges completely.
+
+People declared, to be sure, that Georges ought to have restrained the
+folly of his hot-tempered cousin, but the unaffected grief evinced by
+the man, hitherto regarded as careless and indifferent, disarmed every
+one. His devotion to his dead cousin revealed itself in his every
+action, in the exquisite tenderness of his treatment of Oswald's
+wretched mother, and his management of the estates thus suddenly fallen
+to him, absolutely in accordance as it was with all Oswald's wishes,
+soon won him the warmest sympathy from all.
+
+Of course the Conte was denounced; Oswald's associates in his own rank
+regarded the man as no better than a murderer. But he coldly defied
+public opinion, and held his head higher than ever; he seemed even to
+pride himself upon his deed, and several newspapers defended him.
+
+
+
+
+                              CONCLUSION.
+
+
+When in May a white-edged, black cloud discharges a storm of hail upon
+the fresh, green wheat, the tender blades break and are buried out of
+sight beneath heavy sleet; when the storm is past, and the ice melted,
+and the sun once more beaming bright and warm in cloudless skies, the
+bruised blades think they cannot bear the light, and lying close upon
+the ground would fain die. Then over the fields thus laid waste many a
+head is shaken, and many a sigh is breathed for the broken promise of
+the harvest.
+
+But some there are who, seeing farther and knowing better, shrug their
+shoulders, and say "A hailstorm in spring prostrates, but does not
+kill!" and they look forward hopefully to the future.
+
+Gradually, and very slowly, the warm sunshine penetrates the crushed
+blades, awakening and strengthening within them the benumbed forces of
+youth. Before the summer is fully abroad in the land, the wheat stands
+erect and tall, to the inexperienced eye all unharmed, but the
+husbandman can detect the callous ring where the blade was bent, and
+says: "The wheat has been shot in the knee."
+
+Thus it is with youthful souls, crushed to the earth in the spring-time
+of life by some fierce tempest. Slowly but surely the spirit, well-nigh
+wounded to death, recovers, and God grants to the hearts of those whom
+he loves a glorious resurrection.
+
+Gabrielle recovered from the fearful blow that had befallen her,--very
+slowly, and painfully to be sure, but at last. At first indeed, her
+grief was so profound, she suffered so silently, so tearlessly, that
+they feared for her reason, and then, when all seemed darkest to her,
+she was suddenly possessed by an intense, inexplicable yearning to
+return to the pretty home in the Avenue Labédoyère in which the fairest
+hours of her shattered bliss had been spent.
+
+Her desire was complied with; and for many a long winter night Zinka
+sat beside her by the same little white bed where the girl had once
+whispered to her in the delirium of her happiness that it seemed as if
+her heart would break with joy. With tenderest sympathy the young
+stepmother talked of the departed unweariedly with the girl, allowing
+her tears free course, without ever cruelly attempting to restrain the
+expression of her grief. And when Truyn, in despair over such endless
+grieving, unreasonably taxed his wife with exciting Ella's emotion, and
+with hindering her from forgetting, Zinka replied gently, "Let me
+alone; I know what I am doing. There is nothing more terrible, more
+dreadful than the spectre of a grief that has been violently stifled;
+it lurks in wait for us, and persecutes us all the more persistently,
+the more resolutely we thrust it from us. The memory of our beloved
+dead must not be banished, it must be tenderly welcomed and cherished,
+until in time it loses all bitterness, and is ever with us, sad, but
+very dear."
+
+Truyn listened incredulously, but a few weeks later he perceived with
+surprise, and with trembling delight that Gabrielle's pale cheeks began
+to show a faint colour, and that her weary gait grew more elastic. Then
+when he was alone with Zinka he kissed her gratefully, saying "I see
+you understand better than I how to comfort."
+
+"And from whom did I learn the art?" she asked in reply, with a loving
+glance, "do you not see that I am only repaying old debts?"
+
+With the first snowdrops in February came a golden-haired little
+brother for Gabrielle, who, by Zinka's desire was christened "Ossi."
+Thus Gabrielle learned to utter her dead lover's name without tears.
+She idolizes the little one, and sometimes smiles when she has him in
+her arms; he has given her a fresh interest in life. Georges who came
+to Paris the last of May, only to see the Truyns, and to find out
+especially how Gabrielle was, perceived this with pleasure, and said
+much that was encouraging to Truyn, who is still anxious about his
+sorrowing child. A hailstorm in spring prostrates, but does not kill.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+But when a storm of hail just before harvest beats down the ripened
+ears, the grain never recovers. Bowed down to the earth, broken and
+blasted by the weight of the hailstones, the crop lies prostrate in the
+fields, only awaiting the hand that shall clear it away.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Never again will the Countess Lodrin rally. Had her health been less
+vigorous she might have died of agony, had her mind been less strong,
+she might have forgotten. But her health is perfect, and her mind clear
+as daylight.
+
+She occupies her modest suite of apartments at Tornow, which Georges
+has prayed her always to consider as her home. Her rooms are but a
+shrine for relics and memorials of the dead. Every object which
+Oswald's hand ever touched is sacred for her. Every benevolent scheme
+devised by Oswald in his generous desire, 'to brighten the existence of
+as many people as possible,' she promotes. She heaps his former
+servants with benefits, his faithful Newfoundland is her constant
+companion. She tried to employ her widow's jointure in buying back
+Schneeburg for poor Fritz's children, but her agent could effect
+nothing against Capriani's obstinacy and millions. At least she
+succeeded in buying Malzin's children of their mother.
+
+Charlotte married again, another secretary of Capriani's. The little
+Malzins live at Tornow under the care of an English governess, and
+thrive apace. The Countess attends to every detail of their education
+and training, and sees them every day although only for a short time;
+there is no close tie between them. In spring when she hears their
+sweet voices resounding with merriment in the park, she winces, and
+grows paler than usual. She avoids them, but if she encounters them by
+chance she never fails to speak a kind word to them, or to bestow upon
+them a gentle caress. She is no longer capable of a fervent affection
+for any living being. Her heart is a tomb, completely filled by a
+single, idolized, dead son, but for his dear sake she does all the good
+that she can to the living. Thus, even after his departure, she seems
+striving for his approval.
+
+She devotes the greatest part of her income and of her time to the most
+self-sacrificing benevolence. There is no misery in all the country
+round which she does not search out, and try to alleviate, going from
+hut to hut, and never shrinking from even the most menial services to
+the sick. She is revered as a saint throughout the district. In her
+social intercourse with her peers, which grows less year by year, her
+son's name never passes her lips; if others mention it she turns the
+conversation. But when the country-people utter his name with
+blessings, and recall his constant kindliness and readiness to
+aid;--when the peasants and day-labourers kiss the hem of her dress,
+with tears, saying, "God give him his reward in Heaven, we shall never
+have another such master!" she lifts her head and her eyes gleam with
+intense, sacred pride. Those who meet her then walking erect and with
+beaming looks on her way back to the castle, think her wonderfully
+recovered, and never dream how utterly shattered her life is. But could
+they see her later, when, exhausted by the temporary exaltation, she
+takes refuge in her chamber and sinks into the arm-chair wherein she
+fell asleep on that horrible night, they would be horror-struck by the
+fearful misery of her expression.
+
+There she sits for hours, erect, her elbows close pressed, her hands
+folded in her lap. Her whole life is but a protracted, lingering agony;
+with fixed gaze she seems listening for the rustling wings of the
+messenger who shall release her: the Angel of Death.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Gloria Victis!', by Ossip Schubin
+
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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Gloria Victis!', by Ossip Schubin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: 'Gloria Victis!'
+       A Romance
+
+Author: Ossip Schubin
+
+Translator: Mary Maxwell
+
+Release Date: March 24, 2011 [EBook #35672]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'GLORIA VICTIS!' ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<p class="hang1">Transcriber's Note:<br>
+
+1. Page scan source: http://books.google.com/books?id=g9o9AAAAYAAJ<br>
+
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>GLORIA VICTIS!</h1>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>A ROMANCE</h3>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>BY</h4>
+<h2>OSSIP SCHUBIN</h2>
+<h4>Author of &quot;Our Own Set.&quot;</h4>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<p class="right">&quot;Alas! poor human nature!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="right"><i>Chesterfield</i>.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3><span class="sc">From the German by</span> MARY MAXWELL</h3>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h3>NEW YORK<br>
+WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER, PUBLISHER<br>
+11 MURRAY STREET<br>
+1886</h3>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886<br>
+<span class="sc">by William S. Gottsberger</span><br>
+in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington</h4>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h4>Press of<br>
+William E. Gottsberger<br>
+New York</h4>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h1>GLORIA VICTIS!</h1>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There is no help for it, I must do it to-day,&quot; the Baroness Melkweyser
+murmured with a sigh breathed into the depths of the toilet-glass,
+before which, she was sitting while her maid dressed her hair. &quot;It is
+now just a week,&quot; she went on to herself, after having uttered the
+above words aloud, &quot;quite one week since Capriani entrusted the affair
+to me. I have met him three times, and each time was obliged to tell
+him that there had been no favourable opportunity as yet. He is
+beginning to take my delay ill. Come, then, <i>courage!</i>.... <i>en
+avant!</i>.... Truyn certainly ought to be glad to marry his daughter as
+soon as possible, and I cannot see why Gabrielle should make any
+objection to becoming the sister-in-law of the Duke of Larothiére. To
+be sure, most Austrians have such antediluvian ideas! <i>Nons verrons!</i> I
+will, as Capriani desires, see how the land lies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She shrugged her shoulders as though shifting off all responsibility
+and turning to her maid exclaimed: &quot;<i>mais dépêchez vous donc</i>,
+Euphrosine, will you never remember how much I always have to do!&quot;
+Whereupon the impatient lady, snatched from her maid the head-dress
+which she was arranging, and, quite in the style of Napoleon I.,
+crowned herself.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">The scene lies in Paris. The short after-season which, like an echo of
+the carnival, is wont to follow Lent, that holy intermezzo crowded with
+charity-bazaars, musical soirées and other elegant penitential
+observances, is rather duller than usual this year. Easter came too
+late and although <i>Figaro</i> continues its daily record of balls and
+routs, Paris takes very little heed. All genuine enthusiasm for such
+entertainments is lacking. Paris thinks of nothing now save the races,
+the last auction at the Hôtel Drouôt, the latest change of ministry,
+and the newest thing in stocks.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It is the beginning of May. Two weeks ago, rather later than usual,
+spring made its appearance--like a young king full of eager
+benevolence, and generous promises, with green banner held aloft and
+crowned with sunshine--thus it swept above the earth which sullenly and
+reluctantly opened its weary eyes. &quot;Awake, awake, I bring with me joy!&quot;
+called spring in sweet siren tones sometimes low and wooing and anon
+loud and imperious. And a mysterious whisper thrilled and stirred the
+land, the trees stretched their black branches, the buds burst. Men
+felt a pleasant languor, while their hearts beat louder.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The spring advanced quickly, working its lovely miracles--loading the
+trees with blossoms and filling human hearts with joy--and upon those
+for whom its lavish hand had left nothing else, it bestowed a smile, or
+it granted them a dream.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There are, indeed, some unfortunates for whom its brilliant splendour
+never does aught save reveal the scars of old wounds, which in its
+careless gayety it formerly inflicted; and while others flock abroad to
+admire its beauty, these hide away their misery. But when daylight's
+haughty glare has faded, and spring has modestly shrouded its
+loveliness in a veil of grey, these wretches inhaling its fragrance in
+their seclusion come forth from their concealment, into the soothing
+twilight, among the dewy blossoms, and once more give utterance to the
+yearning that has so long been mute, rejoicing with tears in their old
+anguish, crying: &quot;Oh Spring, oh youth--even thy falsehood was lovely--&quot;
+thus doing it homage by their grief, for spring has no enemies.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Somewhat apart from the aggressive brilliancy of the Avenue
+l'Imperatrice wind a couple of quiet streets like detached fragments of
+the Faubourg St. Germain. Everything here breathes that charming and
+genuine elegance which is almost an instinct, and rules mankind
+despotically. It is not a grimace artificially assumed for show.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One of the prettiest of the small hotels standing between its
+court-yard and garden, in the Avenue ----, formerly it was called the
+Avenue Labédoyère, tomorrow it may perhaps be the Avenue Paul de
+Cassagnac, and the day after the Avenue Montmorency--was occupied by
+Count Truyn with his young wife and his daughter.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This evening the family had assembled in a pleasant drawing-room on the
+rez-de-chaussée, and one after another each expressed delight in the
+repose and relief of such an hour after the social exertions of the
+day. The husband and wife as they sat opposite each other near the
+fireplace--he with his <i>Figaro</i>, and she busy with the restoration of
+some antique embroidery--were evidently people who had attained the
+goal of existence and were content. It was plain that their thoughts
+did not range beyond the present.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Not so with Gabrielle. Twice during the last quarter of an hour she has
+changed her seat and three times she has consulted the clock upon the
+chimney-piece.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last she goes to a mirror and arranges her breast-knot of violets.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Our Ella is beginning to be pretty,&quot; said Truyn opening his eyes after
+a doze behind the <i>Figaro</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you just discovered that?&quot; Zinka asked smiling.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think my gown is becoming, Zini?&quot; Gabrielle asked as gravely as
+if the matter were the Eastern question.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very becoming,&quot; her step-mother kindly assured her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oho!&quot; said Truyn banteringly, &quot;our Ella is beginning to be vain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whereupon Gabrielle blushed deeply and to hide her confusion went to
+the piano and began to strum &quot;Annette and Lubin.&quot; She did not play well
+but her hands looked very pretty running over the keys.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am surprised that Ossi does not make his appearance,&quot; said Truyn,
+laying aside his <i>Figaro</i>. Like all Austrians residing in Paris he had
+a special preference for that frivolous journal. &quot;I met him this
+afternoon on the Boulevard, and he asked me expressly whether we were
+to be at home this evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gabrielle looked, as her father observed with surprise, rather
+embarrassed. He had spoken thoughtlessly, and in masculine ignorance of
+the state of affairs. He was just beginning to teaze the girl about her
+behaviour when the footman announced the Baroness Melkweyser.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her head-dress of red feathers sat somewhat askew upon the
+old-fashioned puffs of hair that framed her sallow face. She wore a
+gown of flowered brocade, the surpassing ugliness of which showed it to
+have been purchased at a bargain at some great bazaar as a &quot;<i>fin de
+saison</i>.&quot; She squinted slightly, winked constantly, was entirely out of
+breath, and sank exhausted into an arm-chair, before uttering a word of
+greeting.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, if you only knew all I have done this blessed day!&quot; she exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Truyn trio looked at her in smiling silence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Confessed and received the sacrament very early,&quot; the baroness began
+the list of her achievements, &quot;always on the second of every month--I
+never can manage it on the first--then at the Pierson sale I bought six
+things marked with Louis Philippe's cipher, then I went to see Ada de
+Thienne's trousseau,--then to a breakfast at the new minister's--too
+comical--his wife made herself perfectly ridiculous, in a bare neck at
+two o'clock in the daytime!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That is the inevitable consequence of a change of ministers,&quot; Zinka
+remarked. Her manner of speech, quiet, and rather inclined to irony,
+was that of those who, with rigid self-control have for years endured
+with dignity some great grief.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The baroness, meanwhile, rattled on, unheeding. &quot;Then I went my
+round of charities, then looked for a wedding-present for my niece
+Stefanie....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Heavens, Zoë!&quot; Truyn groaned.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I lead a most fatiguing existence,&quot; the baroness wailed. &quot;Just as
+I sat down to supper,--I missed my dinner--it occurred to me that it
+really would be better not to let to-day pass without making you a very
+important communication--that is--hm--discussing--a most important
+matter with you--and--here I am. Pray, Zinka, let me have a sandwich,
+for I am dying of hunger.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ring the bell, Erich,&quot; Zinka said with a smile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And now to business,&quot; said the baroness, &quot;<i>je tiens une occasion</i>--it
+really is the most advantageous opportunity!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You shall have your sandwich, Zoë,&quot; said Truyn, quietly stretching out
+his hand to the bell handle, &quot;but pray spare me your advantageous
+opportunities. If I had availed myself of all your boasted
+'opportunities,' I should now be the proud possessor of fourteen
+rattle-trap Bühl pianos and at least twenty-five tumble-down country
+houses. As it is I have bought for love of you three holy-water pots of
+Mme. Maintenon's, an inkstand of the Pompadour's, and I can't tell how
+many nightcaps of Louis XVI., warranted genuine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And an excellent bargain you had of them,&quot; the baroness declared.
+&quot;Louis Sixteenth's nightcaps have latterly been going up in price. But
+this time there is no question of purchase,&quot; she went on to say, &quot;and
+that is the best of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That certainly is very fine,&quot; muttered Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The question is,--I suppose I ought to ask Gabrielle to leave the
+room, that used to be the way, girls never were allowed to be present
+while their parents disposed of their future, but I .... <i>j'aime à
+attaquer les choses franchement</i>. The question is, in fact, with regard
+to--Gabrielle's marriage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Zinka with a smile took the hand of the young girl standing beside her
+in her own, and tenderly laid it against her cheek.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gabrielle's beauty produced a sensation at the last ball at the
+Spanish embassy's,&quot; the baroness continued.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I must entreat you not to make such a fatal assault upon my daughter's
+modesty,&quot; exclaimed Zinka.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bah!&quot; the baroness shrugged her shoulders, &quot;stop up your ears,
+Gabrielle. Produced a sensation is the correct phrase. It is
+remarkable--the <i>succés</i> that the Austrian women always have in Paris.
+I have a suitor for Gabrielle--the most brilliant <i>parti</i> in Paris.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stop, stop, Zoë, I beg you,&quot; said Truyn, provoked, &quot;you make me
+nervous! You always forget how your French way of arranging marriages
+goes against the grain with us and our old-fashioned Austrian ideas.
+You say I have a rich husband for your daughter in just the same tone
+in which you say I have a purchaser for your house! And I seriously
+entreat you to consider that a jewel like my dear comrade yonder, may
+be bestowed, upon one deemed worthy of such a possession, but can never
+be sold.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, here is my sandwich!&quot; exclaimed the baroness, paying no attention
+to his words in her satisfaction over the tea-tray. Whilst Gabrielle
+was occupied with making tea the visitor applied herself to the
+refreshments, whispering meanwhile confidentially and mysteriously to
+Truyn. &quot;I thought that your new domestic relations might make you
+desirous to have Gabrielle mar ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">An angry flash in Truyn's blue eyes, usually so kindly, warned her that
+she was on the wrong track; she lost countenance and consequently
+proceeded rather too precipitately in her investigations as to 'how the
+land lay.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;At least my proposition is worth being taken into serious
+consideration,&quot; she said hastily. &quot;Count Capriani commissioned me to
+ask you whether there was any prospect of his obtaining Gabrielle's
+hand for his only--remember, his only son.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Count Capriani, I do not know who he is,&quot; Truyn said coldly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well then, Conte Capriani,&quot; Zoë explained impatiently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, indeed, Conte Capriani,&quot; Truyn said significantly,--&quot;the railroad
+Capriani!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And he dares to ask my daughter's hand for his son?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Perfect silence reigned for a moment. Gabrielle's little nose expressed
+intense disdain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Zoë, you are insane,&quot; Truyn said at last, very contemptuously. &quot;This
+is not, I believe, the first of April.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot understand your irritation,&quot; the baroness rejoined, with the
+bravado that is the result of great embarrassment. &quot;You are always
+proclaiming yourself a Liberal with no prejudices!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn coloured slightly. He had grown more decided than he had been a
+few years before, and his shirt collars were perhaps a little higher
+and stiffer. His whole bearing expressed the dignified content that
+distinguishes the man of conservative views of life. He gently twitched
+his high collar as he began: &quot;I am a Liberal--at least I fancy that I
+am. If my daughter had set her heart upon marrying a man her inferior
+as regards birth and family, I should certainly consent to her doing
+so, provided the man were one whose character and attainments atoned
+for his low origin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Zinka smiled sceptically with a scarcely perceptible shrug. Truyn's
+colour deepened. &quot;I do not deny,&quot; he admitted, &quot;that it would be very
+hard for me, but all the same I should consent and should do all that I
+could to assist such a son-in-law to attain a position worthy of my
+daughter--that is suitable to her mode of life.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do not be afraid, papa. I have not the slightest desire to fall in
+love with a deputy on the extreme Left,&quot; Gabrielle observed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In young Capriani's case there would be no need for you to trouble
+yourself about your son-in-law's position,&quot; said the baroness loftily.
+&quot;<i>Sa position est toute faite</i>. All Paris was at the ball the night
+before last in the Capriani Hôtel--all the <i>rois en exil</i> appeared
+there, and even some Siberian magnates, and all--that is very many--of
+the Austrians at present in Paris.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know just as well as I do why all these magnates appeared at
+Capriani's,&quot; Truyn rejoined angrily. &quot;But indeed I care nothing for
+this speculator's position--the man himself is odious--a common parvenu
+with a boor of a son.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have it your own way,&quot; said the baroness. &quot;Perhaps you know that a
+daughter of Capriani's is married to the Duke of Larothière?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I know it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And that the Conte's property is estimated at a hundred million?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It may be a hundred billion for all I care.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He is incontestably one of the most influential financiers in Europe.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Unfortunately, and one of the most corrupt and corrupting,&quot; Truyn
+rejoined with emphasis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have not, however, asked Gabrielle's opinion,&quot; persisted the
+baroness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gabrielle tossed her head, but her answer was unuttered, for just at
+this moment the servant flung open the door, and the interesting
+conversation was interrupted by the announcement of fresh visitors.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Two young men entered--two Counts Lodrin. They bore the same name; they
+were the sons of brothers--and as unlike each other as possible.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With regard to Oswald--the &quot;Ossi&quot; of whom Truyn made mention a while
+before.--Gabrielle was convinced that no sculptured classic god, none
+of Raphael's cherubim could compare with him in beauty and distinction.
+She was perhaps alone in this view, although it must be confessed that
+few mortal men surpassed him in these two respects. About six and
+twenty, tall, slender--very dark--a gay, good-humoured smile on his
+handsome, aristocratic face--with an eager, ardent manner--and with
+what might be called the gypsy-like distinction that characterizes an
+entire class of the Austrian aristocracy he was the embodiment of
+chivalric youth. With all the attractiveness of his face, his eyes
+struck you at once--it would be hard to say what was wrong about them,
+whether they were too large, or too dark.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They certainly were very beautiful, but they produced the impression of
+not suiting the face--of having been placed there by accident. But the
+incongruous impression made by those large, dark eyes upon almost every
+one who saw the young man for the first time was extremely fleeting,
+and passed away as soon as Oswald began to talk--as soon as his look
+became animated.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His cousin Georges was at least a dozen years his elder, and nearly a
+head shorter than he. Many persons declared that he looked like a
+jockey; they were wrong. He looked like what he was, a prodigal son,
+very well-born. Spare in figure, his face smoothly shaven, except for a
+long sandy moustache, his hair quite gray, and brushed up from the
+temples after a vanished fashion, his features keen and mobile, his
+eyes round as a bird's, his carriage rather stooping and with motions
+characterized by a certain negligence, he produced the impression of a
+man who had seen a great deal of the world, and who now took a
+philosophic view of his life and of his position.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald is the heir, Georges is the next to inherit.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Scarcely were the usual formal greetings over when Oswald made an
+attempt to join his pretty cousin Gabrielle, with the laudable purpose
+of helping her to pour out tea. His design was cruelly frustrated,
+however, by Count Truyn, who instantly engaged him in a brisk
+discussion of the latest anti-Catholic measures on the part of the
+Republic. Oswald sat beside his uncle restlessly drumming on the brim
+of his opera-hat, the image of politely-concealed youthful impatience,
+now and then adding an &quot;abominable!&quot; or a &quot;disgusting,&quot; to the
+indignant expressions of the elder man, and all the while glancing
+towards Gabrielle. Certain personal matters interested him far more
+just now than the deplorable excesses of the French government. He had
+not read the article in the <i>Temps</i> to which his uncle alluded, he did
+not take the French Republic at all in earnest, he considered it in
+fact no Republic at all, but only a monarchy gone mad; French politics
+interested him from an ethnographical point of view only, all which he
+calmly confessed to his uncle, by whom he was scolded as &quot;unpardonably
+indifferent,&quot; and &quot;culpably blind.&quot; The elder man's conservative
+philippics grew more eager, and the younger one's courteous admissions
+more vague, until at last Zinka succeeded in releasing the latter by
+asking Gabrielle to sing something. Gabrielle, of course, declared that
+she was hoarse, but Oswald who was, by the way, about as much
+interested in her singing from a musical point of view as in the
+trumpet-solos of the emperor of Russia, smiled away her objections and
+rising, with a sigh of relief, went to open the grand piano.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No one seemed to have any idea of according a strict silence to the
+young girl's music, and whilst Gabrielle warbled in a sweet, but rather
+thin voice, some majestic air of Handel's, and Oswald leaning against
+the cover of the instrument looked down at her with ardent intentness,
+Georges, his hands upon his knees, his body inclined towards the
+Baroness Melkweyser who, still busied with her refreshments, was
+disposing of sandwich after sandwich, said: &quot;You are wearing yourself
+out in the service of mankind. Have you allowed yourself one
+half-hour's repose to-day?--No, not one--as any one may see who looks
+at you. <i>A propos</i>, who was the Japanese woman dressed in yellow at whose
+side I saw you to-day sitting in a fainting condition in a landau--in
+front of Gouache's was it?--on the Boulevard de la Madeleine?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Adeline Capriani.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Ah tiens!</i> That was why I seemed to have seen her before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A very queer figure was she not?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She is not ugly,&quot; said Georges. &quot;It is a pity that she dresses so
+ridiculously.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Her dress costs her a fortune every year--the first artists in Paris
+design her gowns,&quot; Madame Zoë declared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed----? Now I understand why she always looks as if she had been
+stolen from a bric-a-brac shop,&quot; said Georges. &quot;Explain to me, however,
+why this wealthy young lady is still unmarried. Perhaps the Conte
+thinks another son-in-law too expensive an article ... Did you know
+that Larothière lost 300,000 francs again yesterday at baccarat at the
+Jockey Club?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That is of no consequence,&quot; Zoë said loftily. &quot;Gaston loves his
+wife--it is all that Capriani requires of his sons-in-law.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Sapperment!</i>&quot; Georges exclaimed, &quot;that's the right kind of a
+father-in-law; what if you should negotiate a marriage, Baroness,
+between me and Mademoiselle Capriani?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do not indulge in such sorry jests,&quot; Truyn interposed disapprovingly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am in solemn earnest; the financial ground beneath my feet is very
+shaky at present, and having one's debts paid by such a good fellow as
+Ossi palls upon one in time. I am undecided whether to turn Hospitaller
+or to marry an heiress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, if Oswald heard you!&quot; Zinka said with her quiet smile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ossi at this moment, if I am not greatly mistaken, is listening to the
+songs of angels in Heaven, and takes precious little heed of us
+ordinary mortals,&quot; replied Georges, glancing with a certain dreaminess
+in his eyes towards the youthful pair who had left the piano and were
+standing in the deep recess of an open balconied window.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Happy youth,&quot; murmured Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Yes, happy youth! They were standing there, he very pale, she blushing
+slightly, mute, confused, the sparkling eyes of each seeking, avoiding
+the other's. He has led her to the recess to show her the moon, to lay
+his heart at her feet, but he has forgotten the moon, and he has not
+yet dared to pour out his heart to her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The fragrant breath of the spring night was wafted towards them,
+fanning their youthful faces caressingly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All nature was thrilling beneath the first gentle May shower. The large
+white panicles of the elder in the little garden in front of the house
+gleamed brightly through the gray twilight. The small fountain murmured
+monotonously, its slender jet of water sparkling in the light from the
+drawing-room windows. They were dancing in the house opposite; like
+colourless phantoms the different couples glided across the lowered
+shades of the windows. The &quot;Ecstasy&quot; waltz played by a piano and a
+violin mingled its frivolous sobs and laughter with the modest song of
+the fountain and the whispers of the elder-bushes. All else was quiet
+in the Avenue-Labédoyère, but from the distance the restless roar of
+the huge city invaded the silence of night--mysterious, confused, as
+the demoniac restlessness of Hell may sometimes invade the divine peace
+of Heaven.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gabrielle!&quot; Oswald began at last with hesitation and very gently, &quot;I
+have come very often of late to the Avenue-Labédoyère. Can you guess
+why?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why?&quot; The blush on Gabrielle's cheek deepens. &quot;Why?--since you were in
+Paris for three weeks without coming near your relatives you ought to
+make up for lost time,&quot; she murmured.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;True, Gabrielle--but--do you really not know for whose sake I have
+come so often, so very often?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She was silent.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His breath came more quickly, the colour rose to his cheek. Surely he
+must have divined Gabrielle's innocent secret from the young girl's
+tell-tale shyness, but yet at this decisive moment the words died in
+his throat as they must for every genuine, honest lover who would fain
+ask the momentous question of her whom he loves.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gabrielle,&quot; he murmured hastily and somewhat indistinctly, &quot;will you
+take the full heart I offer you--can you accept it, or....&quot; he
+hesitated and looked inquiringly into her lovely face. &quot;Ella, all my
+happiness lies in your hands!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her heart beat loudly, the lace ruffles on her bosom trembled,
+as she slowly lifted her eyes to his.--How handsome he was, how
+well the tender humility in his face became him! His happiness
+lies in her hands! Her eyes filled with tears. &quot;I do not
+know ... I ... Oswald ... Ossi!&quot; she murmured disconnectedly, and then she
+placed her slender hand in the strong one held out to her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn with his back to the window, noticed nothing, but the baroness
+who had been observing this romantic intermezzo through her eyeglass
+with cold-blooded curiosity, said drily to herself: &quot;<i>J'en suis pour
+mes frais</i>;&quot; then turning for the last time to Truyn, she said, &quot;I have
+communicated to you Capriani's proposal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you are at liberty to tell him how I received it,&quot; Truyn replied
+stiffly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>J'arrangerai un peu</i>,&quot; the baroness said as she rose, &quot;do not disturb
+the young people, I will slip out on tiptoe. Adieu.&quot; And with a
+courteous glance around, she hurried away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, what do you think?&quot; exclaimed Truyn, as he returned to the
+drawing-room, after escorting her to the hall. &quot;What do you think,
+Georges?&quot; and sitting down beside the young man he tapped him on the
+knee. &quot;Capriani sends that goose Zoë in all seriousness to ask for my
+daughter's hand for his son. What do you say to that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Audacious enough,&quot; said Georges shrugging his shoulders, &quot;but what
+would you have--'tis a sign of the times!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This dry way of judging of the matter did not please Truyn at all.
+&quot;Ossi!&quot; he called.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What, uncle?&quot; The young people advanced together into the room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have an interesting piece of news for you. A secret agent of the
+<i>Maison Foy</i> has made a proposal to-day for Ella's hand for Capriani,
+jr! What do you say to that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ella's hand for the son of that railway Capriani!&quot; exclaimed Oswald
+angrily. &quot;Impossible! The secret agent deserves .... and he made an
+expressive motion with his hand. His indignation became him extremely
+well, and Truyn's glance rested with evident admiration upon the young
+fellow's athletic figure as he stood with head slightly thrown back,
+and eyes flashing scornfully.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Unfortunately it was a lady--Zoë Melkweyser,&quot; the elder man explained.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then she deserves at least six months of Charenton,&quot; said Oswald,
+&quot;'tis incredible!&quot; and he clinched his hand. &quot;Your daughter, uncle,
+and the son of the Conte--I suppose he is a Conte--or a Marchese
+perhaps--Capriani! You know that little orang-outang, Georges?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course, one meets him everywhere. He addressed me by my first name
+yesterday,&quot; Georges replied calmly. &quot;Ah, my dear friends, you entirely
+misconceive this extraordinary proposal. For my part, I see in it no
+personal insult to the Countess Gabrielle, but simply a symptom of an
+approaching social earthquake. The triumph of the tradesman is manifest
+everywhere. Zola in his most prominent work has celebrated the
+apotheosis of the bag-man and the shop-girl; Chapu has designed the
+façade of the latest millinery establishment; Paris will yet see the
+Bourse hold its sessions in <i>La Madeleine</i>, and the <i>Bon Marché</i> will
+set up a branch of its trade in <i>Notre Dame</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Likely enough,&quot; said Truyn with a troubled sigh, &quot;I am only surprised
+that Capriani has not tried to be President of the French Republic.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He has not thought the position at present a favourable one for his
+speculations,&quot; said Georges, &quot;but what is not, may be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, I am proud of my Austria,&quot; said Truyn, suddenly becoming stiff and
+wooden of aspect. &quot;Such adventurers have at least no position there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do not be too proud of your Austria,&quot; rejoined Georges, &quot;I heard
+something at the embassy to-day that will hardly please you. <i>Id est</i>,
+Capriani has bought Schneeburg and will be your nearest neighbour in
+Bohemia.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn started to his feet. &quot;Capriani .... Schneeburg .... impossible! How
+could Malzin bring himself to such a sacrifice!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It must have gone hard with the poor fellow, God rest his soul! The
+night after the contract had been signed he died of apoplexy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good Heavens!&quot; murmured Truyn, pacing restlessly to and fro. &quot;Good
+Heavens!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And there is another interesting piece of news,&quot; Georges went on.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fritz--do you remember him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly. The only Malzin now left, a very amiable lad who
+unfortunately made an impossible marriage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, he married an actress, and just at the time when every one else
+was tired of ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Georges!&quot; exclaimed Oswald frowning and glancing towards Gabrielle. He
+was evidently of the opinion that such things should not be mentioned
+in the presence of young girls.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hm--hm,&quot; muttered Georges, &quot;and he has accepted the post of Capriani's
+private secretary.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Frightful!&quot; exclaimed Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He must have become morally corrupt to some degree, before he could
+make up his mind to submit to such a humiliation,&quot; interposed Truyn
+indignantly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor devil!&quot; said Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What would you have?&quot; the philosophic Georges remarked and hummed
+ironically the air of '<i>Garde la reine</i>.' &quot;<i>Ce n'est pas toujours les
+mêmes qui ont l'assiette au beurre</i>. I tell you it is all up with us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All preserved a melancholy silence for a while, then Truyn favoured the
+party with a few grand political aphorisms, and Oswald at last said to
+himself perfectly calmly, and as if impromptu, &quot;Gabrielle and
+Capriani's son!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The melancholy mood vanished and they talked and laughed so that there
+was a sound as of merry bells through the silence of the night.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Zoë Melkweyser was an Austrian and a distant relative of Truyn's. Very
+well-born, but in very narrow pecuniary circumstances, she had grown up
+on her widowed father's heavily-mortgaged estate, condemned through
+want of means to a continued residence there, restless as was the
+temperament with which nature had endowed her. As a school-girl she had
+no greater pleasure than imaginary journeys from place to place upon
+the map, and one day she confided to her governess, Mrs. Sidney, under
+the seal of secrecy, that she would consent to marry any man, even were
+he a negro, who would promise to indulge her restlessness and allow her
+to travel to her heart's content.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was no negro, however, but a banker from Brussels, who finally
+fulfilled her requirements. She met him at a watering-place, whither
+she had gone under the chaperonage of a wealthy and compassionate
+relative. In spite of her thirst for travel she could hardly have made
+up her mind to marry an Austrian banker, but a Belgian Cr&#339; sus was
+quite a different affair in her opinion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All the objections and remonstrances of her aristocratic connections in
+Austria upon her return thither betrothed, she cut short with, &quot;What
+would you have? Of course I never should have met him here, but he was
+received at court in Brussels.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And in fact Baron Alfred Melkweyser was not only received at court in
+Brussels, but what was still more extraordinary, by the Princess L----,
+being admitted to the most exclusive Belgian circles, 'among the people
+whom everyone knows.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It would have been difficult to find any fault with him except for his
+brand-new patent of nobility, and Zoë never had any cause to repent her
+marriage. His manners were perfectly correct, he rode well, had a
+laudable passion for antiquities, ordered his clothes at Poole's,
+always used <i>vous</i> in talking with his wife, paid all her bills without
+even a wry face, patiently travelled with her all over the world, and
+at her desire removed with her to Paris.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After ten years of childless marriage he died suddenly, of his first
+and unfortunately unsuccessful attempt to drive four-in-hand. As this,
+his first ambitious folly, was also his last, society forbore to
+ridicule it, and even after his death he enjoyed the reputation of an
+'<i>homme parfaitement bien</i>.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His widow bewailed his loss sincerely, and purchased all her mourning
+of <i>Cyprès</i> at reduced prices. Bargains had always been a passion with
+her, and scarcely had her year of mourning passed, before, thanks to
+her expensive taste for cheap, useless articles, she had disposed of
+half the source of her income. Among other things she purchased at low
+prices various stocks which turned out badly. She owed her familiarity
+with financial affairs entirely to her speculative vein, and not at
+all, as her aristocratic relatives and country-folk erroneously
+imagined, to her deceased husband, who had, in fact, held himself
+persistently aloof from former financial acquaintances.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was not acquisitiveness that spurred Zoë on to her various
+undertakings, but the restlessness of her temperament. She delighted in
+everything novel and fatiguing, whether it were a pilgrimage to
+<i>Lourdes</i>, a bargain day at the <i>Bon Marché</i>, or a first representation
+at the <i>Français</i>, to which, by persistent wire-pulling and constant
+appeals to one and another person of influence, she was able to obtain
+tickets of admission not only for herself but for all her most intimate
+friends. She had one means, however, far more entertaining than all
+others, of procuring the excitement needed by her temperament, and this
+was the introduction to 'the world,' of American or European financial
+magnates. She extorted for them invitations to the most distinguished
+routs, she designed the balls which these wealthy people were to give
+to dazzle Paris withal, and she expended an incredible amount of
+cunning and energy in inducing the aristocratic world to appear at
+these entertainments. Her tactics were those of genius; instead of
+contenting herself after the fashion of less skilful mortals with
+inviting the poorer and more modest members of Paris society, she bent
+all her efforts to securing the presence of some legitimist duchess at
+the ball, if only for an hour. She succeeded in doing this in most
+cases by placing at the duchess' disposal a large sum of money for
+charitable purposes. When she had gained over two or three of these
+fixed stars, the planets of Parisian society began to appear at these
+balls.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Planets, in their social relations, are notably much more fastidious
+than fixed stars, as is but natural; they are forced to reflect a light
+not their own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The entire scheme was usually most successful; the balls were beautiful
+and everything went excellently well. Sometimes, indeed, not one of the
+assembled guests had the civility to invite the mistress of the mansion
+to dance, and many of those present affected to mistake the host for a
+footman, but none the less was everyone content and pleased when the
+ball was over. Zoë Melkweyser was glad that she had enjoyed so
+brilliant an opportunity of getting out of breath; the givers of the
+ball were pleased to read the long list of their distinguished guests
+in <i>Figaro</i>; and <i>le monde</i> rejoiced in having something to laugh at,
+and spent three days in ridiculing the extravagance of the Cotillon
+favours.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The latest and most brilliant of Zoë's protégés was Conte Capriani.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Who was he? What was he? 'A poisonous fungus that the sultry
+storm-laden atmosphere had bred upon heaven only knows what muck-heap.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A clever statesman had made use of this phrase not long before to
+define the innate characteristics of this Cr&#339; sus. The phrase had
+been laughingly caught up and repeated, and no one had troubled
+themselves further about Capriani's antecedents. In a smaller city they
+would soon have been investigated, but Paris never busies itself long
+with the solution of such commonplace mysteries; on the contrary it
+takes care not to pry into the past of an adventurer whom it finds of
+very great use. Thus the antecedents of this financial Jove remained,
+like those of most deities, shrouded in myth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Among the many legends that had at first been circulated concerning
+him, was one that he had formerly been a lady's physician and that he
+had been most successful with his aristocratic patients.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whether this were or were not true, certain it was that his air and
+manner suggested that adulatory, fawning servility which characterizes
+those physicians whose professional efforts are, for lack of other
+occupation, chiefly directed to soothing the nerves of hysteric
+women. His exterior was that of a man who has once been handsome,
+<i>cidevant-beau</i>, spoiled only by the piercing glance of his large black
+eyes, and the cynical droop of his loose under-lip. He carried his head
+well forward, as if listening, and around his mouth and eyes there were
+strange lines and wrinkles in the yellow skin which had of late grown
+flabby,--lines suggesting that some of the figures with which he played
+the despot had flown angrily into his face and embedded themselves
+there.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That he had begun life with nothing he himself was wont to declare,
+whenever he gave way to the fit of rage that seized him upon any
+offence offered to his vanity; but how he had gained his immense
+fortune he never told. He made profit out of every thing that afforded
+gain, most of all out of the credulity of indolent inexperienced
+avarice. His success as a 'bear' was famous, and notorious; it
+sometimes seemed as if ill-luck existed only for his advantage, and it
+was well known that he had emerged from great financial crises which
+ruined thousands, not only unharmed, but with an increase of wealth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There were various whispers afloat concerning his speculations, but no
+one had been able to attach any direct blame to him. Once only, in
+connection with his construction of a Spanish railway he had laid
+himself open to a couple of disgraceful charges. The times were
+unpropitious; the public, exasperated by various huge swindles,
+demanded a victim; but whilst several lesser individuals, were brought
+to trial and subjected to a public investigation, all legal proceedings
+against Capriani were suddenly quashed. Why?.... No one knew or at
+least no one told aloud what was known.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was a '<i>personnage tare</i>,' but the stain upon his name was of so
+peculiar a nature that prudence required of many well-known and eminent
+men that they should not see it. Poor devils who stood outside the
+demoniac spell of his financial magic art called him an unprincipled
+swindler: people who had penetrated within the conjuror's circle called
+him a financial genius, flattered him almost servilely in their longing
+to share in his colossal enterprises, and if they did so procured for
+him in return a slight social recognition. And it was curious to
+observe how much at heart the magnate had this same social recognition,
+how he sued for the favour of every lofty dignitary, of every capital
+letter in the social alphabet. He persisted unweariedly in hurling his
+golden bomb-shells into the stronghold of Parisian society, and at last
+the fortress capitulated. He was received, as an enemy to be sure, with
+closed shutters and in silence, but he was received everywhere, at all
+the embassies, throughout the entire official representative world, and
+even in some drawing-rooms of the Faubourg. Everywhere he met those
+who, while he smiled at them in the most friendly way, looked over his
+shoulder without seeing him, but this he endured serenely. The hour for
+revenge will come, he said to himself, and almost always it did come!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thanks to an ostentatious benevolence backed by millions, he had of
+late contrived to improve perceptibly his social standing; at his last
+ball, several crowned heads had been present. Zoë was right; he was
+undoubtedly one of the most influential financiers in Europe; she might
+almost have described him as one of the most influential men.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In Paris he was one of the celebrities that are shown to strangers.
+When he walked past, or rather drove past, for he was physically
+indolent and avoided all bodily exertion, he was pointed out as
+Monsieur Grévy or Mdlle. Bernhardt is pointed out. He occupied a vast
+hotel that he had built after the model of the castle of Chenonceau,
+but two stories higher, in the neighbourhood of the Park Monceau; in a
+quarter of an hour after leaving the Avenue Labédoyère the Baroness
+Zoë's <i>fiacre</i> drew up before this mimicry of vanished feudalism
+erected by a modern Cr&#339; sus.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gabrielle's betrothal will make everything smooth,&quot; she said to
+herself. &quot;I am glad to be well rid of the affair!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A Maître d'Hôtel, who, it was said, had formerly been chamberlain to
+the Duc de Morny, and one of whose duties it was to instruct his
+present master in the laws of aristocratic etiquette, conducted the
+baroness with dignified solemnity to the 'small drawing-room' where the
+Contessa Capriani was wont to receive on quiet evenings.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The 'small drawing-room' was a very large, and very
+brilliantly-furnished apartment, which, in spite of landscapes by
+Corot, in spite of gold-woven Japanese hangings, old inlaid cabinets
+and a thousand articles of value, produced a dreary in-harmonious
+impression. It was evident that nothing here was devised for the
+pleasure and comfort of the inmates of the house, but that everything
+was arranged with a view of impressing visitors. It almost seemed as if
+millions run mad had tossed all these splendours together aimlessly,
+insanely shouting, &quot;something more costly, something more costly
+still!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Here sat the Contessa busied with some fancy work. She appeared
+well-bred, but shy, and embarrassed by her wealth, as she advanced a
+few steps to welcome the baroness, made a few conventional remarks, and
+then begged with a sigh to be excused for going on with her work, which
+work consisted in cutting all sorts of flowers and birds out of a piece
+of cretonne in order to sew them on a piece of satin. She devoted
+several hours a day to this occupation, and since her own rooms, as
+well as those of her acquaintances, were far too splendidly furnished
+to have any place in them for this sort of work, the result of her
+diligence was bestowed every year upon some charity-bazaar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Zoë Melkweyser thought the Contessa unusually depressed. Excited voices
+were heard in the next room, and every time that there was a
+particularly loud explosion the mistress of the mansion winced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Can the 300,000 francs which the Duke of Larothière lost last night be
+a bitter pill for even King Midas?&quot; Zoë asked herself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This supposition proved, however to be erroneous. Madame Capriani moved
+her chair rather nearer to Zoë, and whispered, &quot;My husband is terribly
+agitated,--my poor son--that article in <i>Figaro</i>,--you saw it of
+course ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I? I have not seen <i>Figaro</i> to-day,&quot; Zoë reassured her. It was true,
+she had not seen <i>Figaro</i> but she had heard of the article to which the
+countess alluded; the excitement in the <i>casa</i> Capriani was quite
+intelligible to her now. No, Capriani never even pulled a wry face at
+the sums lost at play by his son-in-law; he enjoyed smiling away such
+losses; everything was allowable in the duke. For the comparatively
+petty extravagances of his own son he had much less forbearance, in
+fact he showed very little tenderness for this scion of his, whose name
+was Arthur, and who was far from satisfactory to his father. The
+Croesus could forgive his son's noble scorn of everything relating to
+business, for positively refusing to have a desk in his father's
+counting-room and for devoting his entire existence to sport,--but it
+drove him frantic to have Arthur held up to ridicule by the sporting
+world.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Hitherto Arthur's grandest achievements in the sporting world had
+culminated in a couple of broken collar-bones and a quantity of lost
+wagers,--today their number had been increased by a trifling <i>fiasco</i>.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A very trifling <i>fiasco</i>, but of a highly delicate nature. Two
+Austrians, an attaché and one of his friends at present in Paris, both
+belonging to extremely aristocratic families, had lately out of wild
+caprice, and amid much laughter, undertaken to run a foot-race
+backwards.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Several French journals had taken immediate occasion to write articles
+on this eccentric wager, describing backward races as a traditional and
+very favourite sport among the youthful aristocrats of Austria. These
+journalistic rhapsodies had incited Arthur Capriani to arrange a
+similar race with brilliant accessories, music, torchlight, and a large
+assemblage of young dandies, and ladies of every description. He lost
+the race, got a severe contusion on his head, and the next day appeared
+the article in <i>Figaro</i> which so exasperated the Conte.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If you were only capable of something in the world beside making
+yourself ridiculous!&quot; Zoë distinctly heard the father's excited voice
+say, &quot;but you can do nothing else, nothing! And to think of my toiling
+for you,--making money for you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Mon Dieu!</i> you make money because you delight in nothing else,&quot;
+retorted young Capriani.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And for you--for <i>you</i>, I am contemplating one of the most brilliant
+matches in Austria,&quot; the Conte fairly shouted, &quot;'tis ridiculous!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I fancy that Count Truyn agrees with you there,&quot; was Arthur's
+repartee.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, you would, would you?--you dare to sneer at your father?&quot; Capriani
+burst forth, after the illogical fashion of angry men, &quot;the father to
+whom you owe everything! I should like to see you begin life as I did,
+bare-footed, with only one gulden in your pocket!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the use of these recriminations?&quot; drawled the son, &quot;your
+antecedents mortify me enough without them, and ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a incoherent cry, a savage word ....!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Contessa, very pale, put down her scissors; she trembled violently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think it would be better to separate them,&quot; Zoë remarked very
+calmly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I will try to,&quot; gasped Madame Capriani, and opening the door into the
+next room, she called, &quot;<i>Mon-ami</i>, the Baroness Melkweyser is here--I
+believe she brings you some news ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Il s'agit de votre fameuse affaire, mon cher comte</i>,&quot; Zoë called
+coaxingly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her words produced a magical effect; both men made their appearance,
+the father with a honeyed smile, the son, a short thick-set fellow with
+handsome features but a rude ill-tempered air, frowning and sullen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Bon soir baronne</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Bon soir</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Eh bien?</i>&quot; and settling himself in an arm-chair, his legs
+outstretched, and toying with his double eyeglass in the triumphant
+attitude with which he was wont to contemplate the favourable
+development of some particularly clever business transaction, Capriani
+began, &quot;So you have at last found a favourable opportunity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No,--no, not at all!&quot; said Zoë, &quot;but I thought best not to leave you
+in uncertainty any longer, and so I came to you this evening.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know I gave you no authority to make a direct proposal,&quot; said the
+Conte.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How can you suppose me capable of such want of tact!&quot; Zoë rejoined
+hypocritically, &quot;unfortunately I have not been able even to find out
+how the land lies. If you had commissioned me a little sooner--just a
+little sooner,--but there is nothing to be done now, for Gabrielle
+Truyn is already betrothed!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Nom d'un chien!</i>&quot; muttered Arthur; he had been no less impressed by
+Gabrielle's beauty than by her lofty descent--&quot;<i>nom d'un chien!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed, already betrothed,&quot; his father said coldly, slowly putting his
+eyeglass upon his nose and scanning the baroness mistrustfully as he
+asked, &quot;betrothed to whom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To her cousin, Oswald Lodrin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To Oswald Lodrin,&quot; he repeated quickly. &quot;You cannot, indeed, enter the
+lists against him, my poor Arthur!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps not as far as arrogance is concerned,&quot; growled the Vicomte,
+&quot;he is the haughtiest human being I ever came across.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That may be, but--&quot; the Conte smiled oddly, &quot;he is also one of the
+handsomest and most distinguished of Austrians, and he is renowned as
+such.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whilst Arthur continued to mutter unintelligibly, but in evident
+ill-humor, Capriani senior left his arm-chair and taking a low seat
+beside Zoë, said, &quot;To-morrow the X---- railway stock is to be issued.
+The shares will be in great demand; shall I save you a couple of
+hundred?&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The fragrance of the elder blossoms floated sweet and strong upon the
+air in the dim warm stillness of the Avenue Labédoyère. The poetry that
+breathes in the odour of flowers no words can reproduce, music alone
+can sometimes translate it; it ascended from the full white panicles in
+the little garden before the Hôtel Truyn and breathed through the open
+window into Gabrielle's chamber like an exultant yearning, like a song
+filled with love's delicious pain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Zinka sat on the edge of the little white bed where the young girl was
+lying, her golden hair rippling about her brow and temples, while upon
+her pale face lay the melancholy of illimitable joy; her eyes were
+moist.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you are not surprised, Zini ... not at all?&quot; she whispered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, my child,&quot; replied Zinka tenderly, &quot;not in the least; I knew you
+were destined for each other from the first moment that I saw you
+together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah,&quot; Gabrielle sighed, &quot;I cannot comprehend it yet. It all seems to me
+like a delicious dream from which I must waken, but even if I must,
+even if the dear God takes from me all that He has given me, I shall
+thank Him on my knees as long as I live for this one lovely dream.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Calm yourself, my darling,&quot; Zinka whispered, lovingly stroking the
+young girl's cheeks, &quot;how your cheeks burn!&quot; And she poured a few drops
+of essence of orange flowers into a glass of water, &quot;drink this, you
+little enthusiast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It will do no good, dear little mother,&quot; said Gabrielle, obediently
+lifting the composing draught to her burning lips. &quot;Ah, you cannot
+imagine how I feel, it seems as if--as if my heart would break with
+happiness!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Zinka kissed her, made the sign of the cross upon her forehead, drew
+the coverlet over her shoulders, once more admonished her to be calm,
+and left her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thunder rumbled without; Zinka started and as a second clap resounded
+she turned back. &quot;Are you afraid of the storm, Ella, shall I stay with
+you?&quot; she asked gently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah no, dear little mother,&quot; Gabrielle replied in the intoxication of
+her happiness, &quot;I hardly hear the thunder.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Zinka departed. &quot;I do not know why I cannot rejoice in this as I
+ought,&quot; she said to herself, &quot;it seems to me as if we had forgotten to
+invite some one of the twelve fairies to this betrothal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And whilst the thunder crashed above the Champs Elysées she suddenly
+recalled an old fairy story that a fever-stricken peasant from the
+Trastevere had once told her in Rome.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a gloomy story, one of those legends in which the popular
+imagination, boldly overleaping all chronological and historical
+obstacles, bestows upon Pagan gods the wings of Christian angels, and
+arms God the Father with the lightnings of angry Jove. It ran somewhat
+thus:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There was once a beautiful maiden who was good as an angel, so good
+that it gave her unutterable pain to see any one sad and not to be able
+to help; and once when she had cried herself to sleep over the woes of
+mankind she had a wonderful vision. A dark form with a veiled face
+approached her and said, 'If you have the courage to cut your heart out
+of your breast and plant it deep in the earth, there will spring from
+it a flower so glorious, so wonderful, that whoever inhales its
+fragrance will feel a bliss so intense that he would gladly purchase it
+with all the torture of our mortal existence.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And the maiden cut her heart out of her breast and planted it deep in
+the brown earth, and watered it with her tears, and there sprang from
+it a magically-beautiful flower, with luxuriant green leaves, and large
+white blossoms with blood-red calyxes, and whoever inhaled the breath
+of these blossoms felt an intoxicating delight course through his
+veins, so that in his wild ecstasy he forgot all earthly care and
+trouble. The flowers unfolded to more and more enchanting loveliness,
+and through the thick foliage sighed the sweetest music.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now when the angels in Heaven heard of this strange plant they
+entreated the Almighty Father to allow them to go get it and to plant
+it in Paradise.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Lord granted their request. Then they fluttered down from Heaven,
+but when they approached the wondrous plant a voice spoke from it,
+saying, 'Let me alone, I blossom for the consolation of the earth, I
+could not live in Paradise; the soil in which I flourish must be
+watered with heart's blood and tears!'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But the angels did not heed these words, and, beguiled by the
+delicious fragrance, they tried to tear away the roots from the lap of
+earth; their efforts were vain, they had to return with their purpose
+unfulfilled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When mankind saw this it exulted in its blissful possession. Happy
+mortals laughed at the angels' futile envy. Then the angels prostrated
+themselves anew at the feet of the Almighty, and implored Him to
+revenge them upon the blasphemers. And the Almighty gave ear to their
+prayer; He hurled a thunderbolt at the plant, and it was swept from off
+the face of the earth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But its roots still slumber underground, and sometimes when in mild
+spring nights a mysterious fragrance steals upon the air, a fragrance
+wafted from no visible blossom, these roots are stirring to life, and
+green leaves shoot upward into the spring. But the sweet perfume still
+moves the angels to anger, and it scarcely rises aloft before the
+thunder rolls over the earth and the lightning blasts the green leaves.
+The flower will never blossom again.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald and his cousin Georges were sitting at breakfast in their
+pleasant room in the Hotel Bristol by a window that looked out upon the
+Place Vendôme, and down the brilliant Rue de la Paix, the perspective
+of which was lost in a hurly-burly of omnibuses, orange carts, flower
+wagons, advertising vehicles painted fiery red, fiacres, sun-illumined
+dust, and human beings rushing madly hither and thither. Whilst Georges
+was drinking his tea in sober comfort with a brief remark as to the
+incomparable excellence of the Paris butter, Oswald, who although
+endowed by nature with an excellent appetite had paid but scant
+attention to his meals of late, recounted for the tenth time to his
+cousin the extraordinary combination of circumstances which had brought
+together Gabrielle and himself. He was a victim of the lovers' delusion
+that sees in the most ordinary occurrences the finger of the Deity, and
+that regards their happiness as a special marvel wrought by Providence
+for their benefit.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was, so Oswald narrated, in April, on the second day of the Auteuil
+races, the first faint tinge of green was perceptible on the landscape.
+He was on horseback, riding a magnificent Arabian steed which one of
+his friends had lent him, and which he was handling with the excessive
+care which an Austrian always bestows upon a horse that is not his own.
+Suddenly he saw walking across the race-course a young lady in a dark
+green dress; a ray of sunlight that turned her hair to gold attracted
+his attention to her. She walked quickly past with an elderly gentleman
+and Oswald turned to look after her. His horse was a little restless,
+his rider's spurs were rather too sharp; with the sudden movement he
+scratched the animal's silken skin, and instantly exclaimed, &quot;<i>Ah,
+pardon!</i>&quot; a piece of courtesy for which his companions ridiculed him
+loudly. In the meantime the young lady with the gray-haired gentleman
+had vanished.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who is that exquisitely beautiful girl?&quot; he asked, and Wips Siegburg,
+secretary of the Austrian Legation, replied laughing, &quot;Do you not know
+her, she is your cousin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Gabrielle Truyn!&quot; exclaimed Oswald; and Siegburg said sagely, &quot;this
+comes of enjoying one's self too busily in Paris, and consequently
+finding no time to visit one's nearest relatives.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald peered in every direction but he could not discover her again.
+After the race, under the leafless trees of the Champs Elysées rolled
+crowds of carriages, victorias, all sorts of coaches, four-in-hands,
+lumbering roomy omnibuses,--all veiled in the whirling, sunlit dust as
+in golden gauze, while everywhere, alike in the omnibuses and in the
+more elegant vehicles, reigned a uniform air of dull fatigue.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Paris had lost another battle with ennui.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the motley throng Oswald was almost forced to walk his horse,
+pondering as he went upon the best way of excusing his discourtesy to
+his uncle. He had now been four entire weeks in Paris, and had not yet
+presented himself in the Avenue Labédoyère. Fortunately he had gone so
+little into society that he had not yet met the Truyns; Paris is so
+huge, perhaps they had not yet heard that he was there. Yes, Paris is
+huge, but 'society' everywhere is small. No, he could hardly venture to
+appear at his uncle's yet.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was growing quite melancholy over these reflections, when he
+suddenly observed that his horse had coolly poked his nose over the
+hood, which had been thrown back, of a low carriage in front, and was
+nibbling at a bouquet of white roses that he found there. Oswald
+shortened his bridle, and just then a lady sitting in the carriage
+turned round; it was Gabrielle Truyn. With no attempt to conceal her
+displeasure she observed what had been done, and when Oswald, hat in
+hand, humbly stammered his excuses, she bestowed upon him the haughty
+stare which an insolent intruder would have merited, and turned away.
+She knew perfectly well who he was, as he afterwards learned, and that
+he had been four weeks in Paris. The gentleman beside her now turned
+round, his eyes met Oswald's; he smiled, and said with good-humoured
+sarcasm ... &quot;Ossi!--what an unexpected pleasure!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Uncle--I--I have long been intending to pay you my respects....&quot;
+Oswald stammered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Apparently your resolutions require time to ripen,&quot; said Truyn drily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah uncle!--I--may I come to see you now?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You do us too much honour,&quot; said Truyn provokingly, &quot;we will kill the
+fatted calf and celebrate the Prodigal's return.&quot; Then taking pity upon
+his nephew's embarrassment he added. &quot;Don't be afraid, we shall not
+turn you out of doors, we have some consideration for young gentlemen
+who are in Paris for the first time; we know that they have other
+things to do besides looking up tiresome relatives, what say you,
+Ella?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My cousin has forgotten me,&quot; the young man murmured, &quot;have the
+kindness to present me to her.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is your cousin, Oswald Lodrin, an old playmate of yours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At her father's words Gabrielle merely turned her exquisite profile
+towards her cousin and acknowledged his low bow by a slight inclination
+of her head. Then she stretched out her hand for her bouquet,
+murmuring, &quot;My poor roses! they are entirely ruined.&quot; And she suddenly
+tossed them away into the road. There was an opening in the blockade of
+carriages before them; Gabrielle's golden hair gleamed before Oswald's
+eyes for a flash, then all around grew gray; the twilight had absorbed
+the last glimmer of sunshine.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That same evening Oswald ordered at a large flower shop, on the
+Madeleine Boulevard, the most exquisite bouquet of gardenias, orchids
+and white roses that Paris could produce and sent it to his cousin to
+replace her ruined roses.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All this he retailed. His first visit, too, in the Avenue Labédoyère,
+the visit when he did not find Truyn at home, and when Gabrielle did
+not make her appearance, but Zinka, whom he had not known before,
+received him. There had been much discussion in Austria over this
+second marriage of his uncle, and Oswald had brought to Paris a violent
+antipathy to Zinka. But it soon vanished, or rather was transformed
+into a very affectionate esteem.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And then the first little dinner, a very little dinner (just to make
+them acquainted, Truyn said) strictly <i>en famille</i>--no strangers, only
+Oswald and Siegburg. The brightly-lit table with its flowers, glass,
+and sparkling silver, in the middle of the dim brown dining-room, the
+delicate fair heads of the two ladies in their light dresses standing
+out so charmingly against the background of the old leather hangings,
+Truyn's paternal cordiality, and Zinka's kindly raillery,--he thought
+he had never had so delightful a dinner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gabrielle, to be sure, held herself rather aloof. She evidently
+resented his tardy appearance in the Avenue Labédoyère; she hardly
+noticed his beautiful flowers. She talked exclusively to Siegburg who
+was odiously entertaining, and who glanced across the table now and
+then, his eyes sparkling with merry malice, at Oswald. Then as they
+were serving the asparagus, he took it into his head to ask Gabrielle,
+&quot;Do you know who is the most courteous man in Paris, Countess
+Gabrielle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, how should I?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your charming cousin there,&quot; rejoined the young diplomat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed!&quot; Gabrielle said with incredulous emphasis, bending her head a
+little on one side as is the fashion with pretty women when they
+undertake the inconvenient task of eating asparagus.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, verily, he says '<i>pardon</i>' even to his horse, when he scratches
+it with his spurs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! Apparently he lavishes all his courtesy upon horses,&quot; Gabrielle
+said pointedly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In the case to which I allude, he really did owe some consideration to
+his horse, for the poor animal could not possibly know why he was made
+to feel the spur. The fact was that at the races the other day Lodrin
+saw a lady the sight of whom so electrified him that he turned
+positively all round on his horse, and in doing so scratched the poor
+beast with his spur.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, and who, if one may ask, was this remarkable lady?&quot; asked
+Gabrielle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ella, since when have you become conscience keeper for young
+gentlemen?&quot; asked Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She blushed to the roots of her hair, but Oswald said with perfect
+composure, looking her directly in the face: &quot;Certainly--it was
+Countess Gabrielle Truyn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She bit her lip angrily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It serves you right,&quot; said Truyn smiling, &quot;why do you ask about
+matters that do not concern you? The jest, however, is a little stale,
+Ossi.&quot;'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should not venture to jest; I simply told the truth,&quot; rejoined
+Oswald. In view of the young girl's evident agitation he had regained
+entire calm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One is not always justified in telling the truth,&quot; Gabrielle observed
+with the pettish frankness in which even the best-bred young ladies
+will indulge, when irritated by the accelerated beating of their
+hearts.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed? Not even in reply to a question?&quot; Oswald said very quietly,
+and Truyn frowned after the fashion of affectionate papas, whose
+daughters' behaviour does not exactly gratify their paternal ambition.
+Zinka interrupted the fencing of the young people by an inquiry as to
+the new vaudeville which Gabrielle wished to see, but of which Zinka
+was not quite sure she should approve.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald took no further notice of Gabrielle that evening, but devoted
+himself to Zinka. He sat beside her for nearly an hour, and enjoyed it
+extremely; she had a charming way of listening, assenting to his
+observations by a silent smile, and inciting him to all kinds of small
+confidences, without asking any direct questions.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he afterwards reflected upon what had been the interesting subject
+of their conversation, he discovered that she had led him to speak only
+of himself, that he had told her everything about his life that a young
+man can tell to a young woman whom he has seen but twice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She listened attentively, and when he took his leave she had grown
+almost cordial.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now that you have broken the ice, I hope we shall see you frequently.
+<i>A propos</i>, to-morrrow is our night at the opera; if you have nothing
+more agreeable in prospect and have not heard '<i>La Juive</i>' too
+often....&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">And then the charming, uncertain, hoping, exulting, despairing time
+that ensued! Gabrielle's pique slowly vanished; then without any
+reasonable cause returned; her behaviour towards her cousin vacillated
+strangely between naive cordiality and proud reserve; some days she
+seemed to misconstrue everything that was said, and then all at once a
+single cordial word would mollify her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And the dances, the cotillon at the Countess Crecy's ball in the pretty
+little Hôtel, Rue St. Dominique,--the cotillon in which all had paid
+homage to Gabrielle as to a young queen, and in which when, of all the
+favours that she had to bestow only one remained, she suddenly became
+confused, looking from the favour to her cousin, and seeming more and
+more undecided until at last he advanced a step towards her and
+whispered, &quot;Well, Gabrielle, am I to have the Golden Fleece or not?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That was two days before the betrothal. To the day of his death he
+should wear that favour and no other on his heart. It should be buried
+with him!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Although not given to writing much he had kept a diary in Paris. Long
+since he had torn out the first pages; its contents now extended
+exactly from the first meeting to the first kiss. After his marriage
+the book was to be sealed up, to be given to his eldest son upon his
+twenty-first birthday.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whilst Oswald, borne upon a lover's wings that knew no boundary line
+between heaven and earth, between the future and the past, at one time
+eulogized his betrothed, and at another made arrangements for his own
+burial, and his eldest son's twenty-first birthday, Georges, who had
+gradually finished his breakfast, leaned back in his chair watching the
+fantastic wreaths of smoke ascending from the bowl of his tschibouk.
+When at last Oswald paused and fell into a reverie he took occasion to
+utter the following profundity. &quot;Living is very dear in Paris!&quot; Twice
+was he obliged to repeat this brilliant aphorism, before Oswald seemed
+to hear it. Then glancing at his cousin reproachfully, the young fellow
+put his hand in his pocket, &quot;would you like the key, Georges?&quot; he said
+offering it to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; replied Georges, taking Oswald's hand, key and all in his own,
+and pressing it down upon the table. &quot;No, my dear fellow, many thanks.
+Do you remember what Montaigne says about <i>le désir qui s'accroist par
+la malaysance</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Montaigne?--I am not very intimate with the old gentleman,&quot; Oswald
+replied with a laugh, &quot;how came you pray to make his acquaintance?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why you see, Oswald, there have been times when my means were not
+sufficient to provide me with amusements befitting my station in life,
+and I was obliged to have recourse, <i>faute de mieux</i>, to reading. But
+to recur to <i>plaisirs de la malaysance</i>, Montaigne proves as clearly as
+that two and two make four that if there were no locks there would be
+no thieves! Now,--hm--one thing is certain; since your strong box has
+been open to me I no longer have the smallest desire to possess myself
+of its contents. Do you know, Ossi, that I have grown very fond of you
+in these few weeks? Do not overturn the pepper cruet,&quot; he admonished
+his cousin, who suddenly extended his hand to him with somewhat awkward
+shyness. &quot;Yes, very fond, you have effected a radical change in me; I
+should really like to go back with you to Bohemia, perhaps you could
+find me something to do there. Will you take me with you to Bohemia?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;With the greatest pleasure, Georges.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Reflect a little. What would your mother say to your introducing an
+unbidden guest into her household?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Georges, my mother, if I were to take home Karl Marx--or--&quot; he
+did not conclude for at that moment his servant brought in a small
+salver upon which lay his newspapers and letters.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">A couple of cards of invitation were after a fleeting examination stuck
+into the frame of the mirror, then came two Austrian newspapers, then
+three letters from Austria; one addressed in a firm, bold hand he
+opened instantly with a smile of pleasure and the exclamation &quot;from my
+mother! at last! I am very curious to know what she says to my
+betrothal--I began to be anxious--she has taken so long to write.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the light in his eyes faded, he frowned, angrily crushed the letter
+together, and propping his elbows on the table leaned his head upon his
+hands. &quot;I could not have thought this possible,&quot; he murmured.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is not your mother satisfied?&quot; Georges asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Satisfied--?&quot; growled Oswald, &quot;satisfied--? she couldn't be
+dissatisfied if she tried ever so hard, but she does not rejoice with
+me. There, read that. 'Dear child, I agree to everything that will make
+you happy, and pray for every blessing upon yourself and your
+betrothed, whom, moreover, I remember as a charming little girl ....'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, what more can you ask?&quot; said Georges, elevating his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What more can I ask?&quot; Oswald very nearly shouted, &quot;what more can I
+ask? why, I am not used to having such conventional phrases served up
+to me by my mother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you and your mother live upon perfectly good terms with each
+other?&quot; asked Georges, mechanically brushing away a few crumbs on the
+table-cloth, and without looking at his cousin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald opened his eyes wide. &quot;My mother and I? Why, yes, what can you
+be thinking of?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges made no reply, he remembered perfectly well that years
+previously, before he had left home the Countess Lodrin had been
+anything but tender to her charming little son, nay, that she had been
+the downright fine-lady mother who figures in romances, but who
+fortunately is found but seldom in real life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He thought it unnecessary, however, to remind his cousin of this.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the meanwhile Oswald had somewhat cooled down. &quot;My poor unreasonable
+mother!&quot; he said half-aloud to himself, &quot;it is so hard for her to give
+me up, in all her life she has had me only. Well, I shall soon bring
+her round. Ah, Georges, Georges, it seems but a poor arrangement in
+this life that we must so often take from one person to give to
+another! I only hope that my mother's letter to my betrothed is more
+cordial. Ah, here are two more epistles,&quot; and in no cheerful mood he
+opened one after the other of the two very business-like envelopes,
+read their contents, compared them with each other, threw both upon the
+table and, quite pale, with very red lips and flashing eyes, began to
+pace to and fro, from time to time passing his hand angrily across his
+forehead. &quot;Everything disagreeable is sure to happen all at once!&quot; he
+exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges knowing his cousin's impetuousity watched his excitement with
+smiling composure. &quot;Is Vesuvius again in a state of eruption,&quot; he said
+kindly, &quot;or what is the matter, man alive?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Siegl is an ass!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah?--and your man of business besides?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then this present affair is a matter of business?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No!&quot; Oswald said gloomily, &quot;an affair of honour. The matter is that I
+am forced to break my word--<i>voilà tont!</i> But I cannot understand
+Siegl, he ought to know ....&quot; Suddenly he went to his secretary, opened
+it, rummaged nervously among a chaos of letters, at last finding a
+closely-written sheet, which he read through carefully, then grew
+very quiet, and seating himself opposite Georges at the uncleared
+breakfast-table, said &quot;I am wrong, it is my fault.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pray explain yourself,&quot; said Georges, &quot;my counsel, and my experience
+are at your service.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The matter is simple enough. Before I came away from home I gave Siegl
+a power of attorney to conclude an unfinished sale, the sale of a
+couple of insignificant building lots in W----. In practical business
+matters I can thoroughly rely upon him. Well, the other day I had this
+letter from him asking whether I would agree to the winding up of the
+affair under certain conditions, and at the end of the letter he asked
+me in this case to telegraph him. His handwriting is execrable and his
+style most tedious,--and--and I hurried off to the Avenue Labédoyère. I
+was going to ride in the Bois with Gabrielle,--in short I skimmed over
+the letter, never noticing that he asked about another far more
+important sale, and telegraphed, 'I agree to everything; do as you
+think best.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Eh bien!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald cleared his throat. &quot;You remember Dr. Schmitt? He was our family
+physician, a true man if ever there was one, my father valued him
+highly. Well, he leased an estate from us, Kanitz, it lies in one
+corner of the Schneeburg grounds; after the old man's death his son
+held the lease, he is a very good fellow, we served together in the
+same regiment in our volunteer year. He married, and set great store by
+the lease, which would run out in three years. Before his marriage he
+came to me to know whether he might depend upon an extension of the
+lease; of course I promised it to him, thereby relieving him of immense
+anxiety. And now Siegl has sold the property at a high price to
+Capriani, and is very proud of the transaction, and it is all because
+of my thoughtlessness, because I thought it too tedious to read through
+his roundabout epistle and .... and young Schmitt, poor devil, is quite
+beside himself, and writes me this letter! I cannot understand Siegl,
+he might have asked me again, he knows me perfectly well, he ought
+to have known that I could never have contemplated anything of the
+kind ....! But it's just the way with all my people! If they can make a
+few gulden for me, no matter how, they pride themselves upon it hugely;
+no one seems to understand that I care precious little for the
+augmentation of my income; what I want is, to alleviate as far as lies
+in my power the existence of as many men as possible!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How old are you, Ossi?&quot; Georges asked with an oddly-scrutinizing
+glance at his cousin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Twenty-six. What makes you ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your transcendental views of life, my child. Men and ants are born
+with wings, but both rub them off in the struggle for existence,--men
+usually do so before they are twenty-four.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That goal is passed,&quot; rejoined Oswald, &quot;and the winged ants do not
+lose their wings, they only die young,&quot; and he became again absorbed in
+study of the two letters. &quot;I cannot blame Siegl this time, try as hard
+as I can, it is <i>my</i> fault; 'tis enough to drive one mad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can understand how it goes against the grain, but--well, you must
+indemnify Schmitt with another property.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That of course, but it does not help the matter,&quot; Oswald grumbled, &quot;he
+has a special love for Kanitz--he was born there, his parents are
+buried there in a pretty little churchyard on the edge of the woods by
+the Holtitzer brook. He takes care of their graves himself--they are
+perfect beds of flowers. And his wife!--I paid her a visit last
+Autumn,--she is a dear little shy thing, and she looked at me out
+of her large eyes as if I were Omnipotence itself. There is such an
+old-fashioned loyalty, so poetic a content about those people; upon
+whom shall we depend if we heedlessly destroy the devotion of such as
+they? Schmitt must keep Kanitz, even although I buy it back at double
+the price paid for it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear fellow you can do nothing with money where Capriani is
+concerned,&quot; Georges observed calmly, &quot;but I am convinced that he is
+very desirous of standing well with all of you. If you make a personal
+request of him he certainly will not object to annul his purchase. If
+the matter is really important to you go and call upon Capriani,
+and....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald tossed his head angrily. &quot;What? ask me to have any personal
+intercourse with that man--no--in an extreme case indeed----but there
+must be some legal way out of the difficulty, it is a matter for our
+agents--<i>Ça!</i> A quarter of twelve and I breakfast at Truyn's.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You must make haste. Can I do anything for you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald went to the writing-table and in large bold characters
+wrote a couple of lines on a sheet of paper. &quot;Pray see that this
+telegraph to Schmitt goes off immediately, and then one thing
+more--if it does not bore you too much--please leave a card for me at
+the places on this list. Do not take any trouble, but if you should be
+passing.... Good-bye old fellow--remember we are to go home together.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hotspur!&quot; murmured Georges as the door closed after his cousin. &quot;Well,
+after all, I do not grudge him his position; he becomes it well.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">If Oswald Lodrin might be regarded as the chivalric embodiment of the
+old-time '<i>noblesse oblige</i>,' his cousin Georges was on the contrary
+the personification of the modern axiom '<i>noblesse permet</i>.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had made use of the credit of the Lodrins, the accumulation of
+centuries, to screen his maddest pranks. True, he had never overdrawn
+this credit, he had never by any of his numberless eccentricities
+raised any barrier between himself and his equals in rank. He had grown
+to manhood discontentedly convinced that Count Hugo Lodrin, his
+father's elder brother, had done him great wrong, and this wrong was
+his marriage late in life with the beautiful Princess Wjera Zinsenburg.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges was barely eight years old at the time, but he remembered as
+long as he lived how angrily his father, after a life of careless
+extravagance led in the certainty of inheriting the Lodrin estates, had
+received the announcement of the betrothal, and how hardly he had
+spoken of Wjera Zinsenburg.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boy grew up, his heart filled with a hatred none the less vehement
+because it was childish, first for his aunt, and afterward for his
+cousin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His hatred for his aunt grew with his growth, but as for his hatred for
+his cousin?... It was difficult to cherish resentment against his
+loving, helpless little cousin with his big black eyes and pretty rosy
+mouth. And in the summer holidays, which he spent every year in Tornow
+with his father, he struck up a friendship with the little fellow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a lasting friendship. One day after his father's death when he
+had for several years been an officer of hussars, and always in
+pecuniary difficulties, Georges received a letter, which upon very
+slanting lines evidently ruled in pencil by Ossi, himself, and in very
+sprawling clumsy characters, ran thus:</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Dear Georges</span>,</p>
+
+<p class="normal" style="text-indent:10%">&quot;Papa says you need money, I don't need any, so I send you my pocket
+money, and when I'm big you shall have more. The donkeys are given
+away. Papa got angry with Jack because he bit me. Now, for a
+punishment, he has to carry sand for the gardeners. I have a pair of
+ponies now; they are very pretty and I ride every day. I can ride quite
+well and I am not afraid, but I stroke Jack whenever I see him, and I
+think he is ashamed of himself.</p>
+
+<p class="right">&quot;<span class="sc">Your Ossi</span>.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Yes, he needed money--a great deal of money; his father had left him
+next to nothing, and the small allowance which his uncle made him,
+always seasoning it with good advice, did not nearly suffice him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His uncle paid his debts upon condition that he should exchange from
+the hussars into the dragoons, then held in rather high estimation as
+heavy cavalry. Georges needed money quite as much as a dragoon,
+however, as when a hussar. Then came feminine influences--a quarrel
+with his colonel--a duel. He resigned his commission with honour and to
+the regret of the entire staff. Once more, and, as he was solemnly
+informed, for the last time, his uncle paid his debts, and wishing to
+have no further concern in his nephew's money matters he also paid out
+a handsome sum as a release from all further demands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges manifested his repentance after this settlement by an immediate
+excursion to Paris with a pert little French concert-saloon singer.
+This was the finishing stroke in the eyes of his strictly moral, nay,
+even bigotted uncle. From that time onward the young man's letters to
+the old count were returned to him unopened. Georges vanished from the
+scene. The rumour ran that after he had tried his luck and failed in
+the California gold diggings, he had been a rider in a circus; there
+was also a report that he had served mahogany-coloured Spaniards and
+jet-black negroes as waiter at Rio Janeiro, that he had been an omnibus
+driver in New York--this last fact was vouched for. Still, he contrived
+to impress the stamp of spontaneous eccentricity upon every one of the
+expedients to which he resorted in his pecuniary embarrassments.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One day after Oswald had attained his majority he received a letter in
+which his cousin, after appealing to the old boyish friendship,
+described his present condition. Oswald, who was kindheartedness
+itself, and, moreover, enthusiastically eager to discharge his duties
+as head of the family, did not delay an hour in arranging his cousin's
+affairs and in settling upon him an income suitable to his rank.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thus Georges returned to his old sphere of life and to his former
+habits, smiling calmly, but testifying no special delight, and not the
+slightest surprise at the change in his circumstances. The honest
+friendship which he felt for the cousin whom as a child he had petted,
+quite destroyed his old grudge against his fate.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Picture a sleepy little market-town lying, at a respectful distance,
+near a very large castle, where the clock in the tower has not gone for
+twenty years; a ruggedly uneven market-place, thickly paved with sharp
+stones and no sidewalk, queer old-fashioned houses with high-gabled
+roofs and small windows, and here and there a faded-out image of
+the Virgin above an arched gateway, a tradesman's shop serving as
+post-office as well as for the sale of tobacco, and adorned over the
+doorway with a wreath of wooden lemons and pomegranates, and the
+imperial double-eagle, a corner where stands a piled-up carrier's van
+covered with black oilskin, a smithy sending forth from its dark
+interior a shower of crimson sparks, while from the low passage-way of
+the opposite inn, 'The Golden Lion,' a waiter with a dirty apron, and
+bare feet thrust into old red slippers, is gazing over at the smithy
+where a crowd of dripping street boys are collected about two
+thoroughbreds and a groom liveried in the English fashion--picture all
+this and you see Rautschin,--Rautschin on a dark afternoon in May in a
+pouring rain with an accompaniment of thunder and lightning.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Somewhat apart from the gaping urchins a young man is walking to and
+fro in front of the row of houses; his quick impatient step testifies
+to his having been detained by some untoward mishap and also to his
+being quite unused to such delay.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The rain descends from heaven in fine, regular, grey sheets. The young
+man's cigar has gone out, he is cold, and thoroughly annoyed he passes
+the unattractive waiter and enters the inn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The room in which he takes refuge is low and spacious with bright blue
+walls, and a well-smoked ceiling. Limp, soiled muslin curtains
+reminding one of the train of an old ball-dress, hang before the
+windows where are glass hanging-lamps, and flower-pots of painted
+porcelain filled with mignonette, cactuses, and catnip. The furniture
+consists of two chromos representing the Emperor and his consort, of a
+number of yellow chairs, of several green tables, and of an array of
+spittoons.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At one of the tables sit three guests evidently much at home; one of
+them is tuning a zither, while the other two are smoking very
+malodorous cigars, and drinking beer out of tankards of greenish glass.
+Engaged in eager conversation none of them observed the entrance of the
+stranger who, to avoid attracting attention, seated himself in a dark
+corner with his back to the group.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A couple more truck-loads of all sorts of fine furniture have arrived
+at Schneeburg,&quot; remarked one of the trio, a young man with red hair,
+and unusual length of limb. He is a surveyor's clerk, his name is
+Wenzl Wostraschil, but he is familiarly known as 'the Daily News' from
+the amount of sensational intelligence which he disperses. &quot;Count
+Capriani ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know of no Count Capriani,&quot; interrupted an old gentleman with white
+hair and a red face; he is Doctor Swoboda, by profession district
+physician, in politics just as strictly conservative as Count Truyn
+became as soon as he had proclaimed his socialism by taking to himself
+a bourgeoise bride--&quot;I know of no Count Capriani, you probably mean
+Conte!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is the same thing,&quot; observed the zither player, Herr Cibulka.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In the dictionary, perhaps,&quot; the old doctor rejoined sarcastically.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The two titles are synonymous in my opinion,&quot; said Herr Cibulka as he
+laid aside his tuning-key and began to play 'The Tyrolean and his
+child,' while with closed lips he half-hummed, half-murmured the air to
+himself, his big fat hands groping to and fro on the instrument as if
+trying to aid his memory.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Herr Cibulka--this sonorous Slavonic name signifies <i>onion</i> in
+Bohemian--Eugène Alexander Cibulka--he is wont to sign his name with a
+very tiny Cibulka at the end of a very big Eugene Alexander--assistant
+district-attorney, transcendentalist, and Lovelace, is the pioneer of
+culture in the sleepy droning little town. He is a tall young fellow
+inclining to corpulence, with an uncommonly luxuriant growth of hair on
+both his head and face, and with the flabby oily skin of a man who has
+all his life long been fed upon dainties.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Evidently much occupied with his outer man he dresses himself as he
+says, 'simply but tastefully;' he pulls his cuffs well over his
+knuckles, and delights in a snuff-coloured velvet coat with metal
+buttons. He fancies that he looks like the Flying Dutchman, or at least
+like the brigand, Jaromir. In reality he looks like an advertisement
+for 'the only genuine onion ointment for the beard.' He is considered
+by the Rautschin ladies as quite irresistible and fabulously cultured.
+He criticises everything--music, literature and politics, being
+especially great in the domain of politics, and he discourses at length
+whenever an opportunity presents itself, combating with admirable
+energy perils that have long ceased to terrify any one. It is not clear
+as to what party he belongs, but since he berates the clergy, hates the
+nobility, and despises the lower-classes, consequently pursuing the
+straight and narrow path of his subjective vanities and social
+aspirations, he probably considers himself a Liberal. His uncle is in
+the ministerial department and <i>he</i> dreams of a portfolio.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Meanwhile the red-haired man with an air of indifference has taken up
+his tankard. &quot;Count or Conte, as you please,&quot; he said, giving the
+disputed point the go-by, and continuing as he put his beer glass down
+on an uninviting little brown table, &quot;at all events he must be
+accustomed to live in fine style, for he declared that it was
+impossible for a man used to modern conveniences to live in Schneeburg
+in the condition in which Count Malzin had occupied it. So the house
+has been entirely newly furnished. Immense! the doings of these
+money-giants--the world belongs to them!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Unfortunately, and our poor nobles must go to the wall,&quot; sighed the
+old doctor, whose platonic love for the nobility keeps pace with the
+red-haired man's equally platonic affection for money. &quot;Except a couple
+of owners of entailed estates here and there none of them will be able
+to compete with these great financiers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The law of entail cannot be allowed to exist much longer, it is a
+stumbling block in the path of national progress .... My uncle in the
+ministerial department ....&quot; Eugene Alexander began in a deep bass
+voice, which suggested a sentimentally guttural rendering of 'The
+Evening Star' at æsthetic tea-parties.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Spare me the remarks of your uncle in the ministerial department,&quot;
+interrupted Dr. Swoboda angrily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The law of entail must be abolished,&quot; Herr Cibulka said, as another
+man might say, &quot;that new street must be opened.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you got your liberal seven-league boots on again?&quot; Swoboda
+rejoined. &quot;How you stride off into the future! You evidently suppose
+that if the law of entail were abolished to-day or to-morrow, this
+'stumbling-block in the path of national progress' being removed,
+various districts of Tornow and Rautschin would find their way into the
+pockets of yourself and of your hypothetical children? You are
+mistaken, my dear fellow, hugely mistaken. Heaven forbid! Trade would
+monopolize the real estate, and that is all you would get by it,
+nothing more. The supremacy of money would be confirmed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should prefer, it is true, the supremacy of mind!&quot; Eugène Alexander
+said didactically.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! you think you would come in for a share there,&quot; growled the old
+doctor under his breath.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without noticing the irony, Eugene Alexander went on, &quot;The supremacy of
+money, of individual merit, is certainly more to be desired than the
+supremacy of fossilized prejudice.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed?... now tell us honestly,&quot; said the doctor, &quot;do you really
+believe that the masses, whose sufferings are real and not imaginary,
+would gain anything thereby?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There certainly would be a fresh impetus given to culture,--a freer
+circulation of capital,&quot; began Cibulka.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Listen to me a moment,&quot; broke in the doctor. &quot;Circulation of capital?
+A financier's capital circulates inside his pockets, not outside of
+them except on certain occasions on 'Change. The art of spending money
+does not go hand-in-hand with the art of making it,--few things in this
+world delight me more than the spectacle of a millionaire who, having
+ostentatiously retired from business, contemplates his money-bags in
+positive despair, not knowing what to do with them and bored to
+death because the only occupation in which he takes any delight,
+money-getting, is debarred him by his position.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No one can say of Conte Capriani that he does not know how to spend
+his money,&quot; the red-headed 'Daily News' affirmed, &quot;everything is being
+arranged in the most expensive style, the rooms hung with silk shot
+with silver, the carpets as thick as your fist, and the paintings and
+artistic objects,--why they are coming by car-loads. I am intimate with
+the castellan, and he shows me everything; the outlay is princely.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The doctor shrugged his shoulders. &quot;The extravagance of a financier is
+always for show, it is never a natural expenditure. There's no free
+swing to it, and I am not at all impressed by your Conte; one day he
+may take it into his head to paper his room with thousand-gulden
+bank-notes, and the next he will haggle like the veriest skinflint;
+just ask the Malzin servants; he discharged them at a moment's notice
+without a penny.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They were a worthless old lot,&quot; Eugène Alexander rejoined, &quot;and
+besides it was Count Malzin's duty to provide for his people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor Count Malzin!&quot; exclaimed the doctor, &quot;he pleaded for his
+servants, as I know positively; but provide for them--how could he
+provide for them when he could not provide for his own son! When I
+think of our poor Count Fritz! A handsomer, sweeter-tempered, kindlier
+gentleman never lived in the world! And when I reflect that Schneeburg
+is now in the hands of strangers, that Count Fritz cannot live
+there....!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, I beg your pardon,&quot; the red-head insisted, wriggling on his chair
+like an eel, &quot;he is going to live there, in the little Swiss cottage in
+the park where the young people used to be with their tutor and
+drawing-master in the hunting season, away from the bustle in the
+castle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Frightful!&quot; murmured the doctor. &quot;This whole Schneeburg business is
+too--too sad. The old bailiff is ill of typhus fever brought on by
+sheer grief and anxiety, and his whole family would go to destruction
+were it not for the generous support of the Countess Lodrin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't tell us of the generosity of the Countess Lodrin,&quot; sneered
+Cibulka, or of the generosity of any of the Lodrins. &quot;You need only look
+at their estates; the peasants are huddled there in pens like swine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stranger, who had until now remained motionless in his dim corner,
+apparently paying no heed to the talk, here turned his head to listen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That seems very improbable,&quot; Dr. Swoboda replied to the last
+assertion, &quot;The young count treats all his dependants with a kindly
+consideration that it would be difficult to match. If his people suffer
+from any injustice it certainly is without his knowledge; Count Oswald
+is one of the old school. Hats off to so true a gentleman!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are, and always will be a truckler to princes,&quot; said Eugène
+Alexander, offended. &quot;I must say that a man like Capriani who has won
+for himself a position in society among the greatest by his personal
+merit, by the work of his hands, seems to me more worthy of
+consideration than a petty Count, who has had everything showered upon
+him from his cradle.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What trash you are talking about personal merit,&quot; thundered the
+doctor. &quot;Capriani has grown rich on swindling--swindling, on
+'Change--swindling in women's boudoirs. He was formerly a physician,
+and as such insinuated himself into distinguished houses, and wormed
+out political secrets which he made use of in his speculations. Finally
+he married a rich banker's daughter; they say his wife is a good woman.
+I never saw him but once, but I cannot understand how a woman with a
+modicum of taste could ever consent....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh they say that in his time he has enjoyed the favour of all kinds of
+ladies, very great ladies....&quot; the red-head interposed with an air
+of importance. &quot;I know from the widow of the late Count Lodrin's
+valet--there was a game carried on down there in Italy between the
+Countess Wjera....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had no time to conclude. The stranger sprang up and like a
+flash of lightning struck the speaker twice across the face with his
+riding-whip; then without a word he left the room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who was that?&quot; asked Cibulka pale with terror, while the red-headed
+man, bewildered, rubbed his cheek.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Count Oswald Lodrin,&quot; said the doctor. &quot;It serves you right for your
+insolence!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall not submit to such brutality--I will appeal to the courts,&quot;
+snarled red-head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And what can you say?&quot; said the old doctor. &quot;'I have wantonly repeated
+low, scandalous gossip--I have slandered a lady who is blessed and
+worshipped by all the country round, I have spit in the face of a
+saint'--this is what you can say. Let me advise you not to stir, my
+worthy Wostraschil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This 'my worthy Wostraschil' was uttered by the simple old doctor in a
+tone which he must have caught unconsciously and involuntarily from
+some aristocratic patient.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He arose and stood at the window, looking with a smile of satisfaction
+after Oswald, who with head held haughtily erect, face pale, and eyes
+flashing angrily, was striding directly across the square to the
+smithy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A splendid fellow--a true gentleman,&quot; the old man murmured. He was
+proud of this Austrian, product, and would gladly have paid a tax for
+the maintenance of this national article of luxury.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Arrived in Tornow only that morning, Oswald hardly finished his
+breakfast before he rode over to Kanitz, where, after his good-humoured
+despotic fashion he adjusted the whole affair with a smile, and soothed
+the anxious young tenant.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the way back his horse lost a shoe, and his groom was well scolded
+by his impetuous young master for the carelessness resulting in such an
+accident. The riders had been forced to abate their speed and to take a
+roundabout way through Rautschin, that the nervous, high-bred animal
+might be relieved as soon as possible.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the way they were overtaken by the storm. Perhaps Oswald would not
+have endured the very smoky atmosphere of the inn room so long, had he
+not been unconsciously interested in the talk of its three guests.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">By no means indifferent to Doctor Swoboda's enthusiastic appreciation
+of his merits, he had enjoyed playing the part of the Emperor Joseph in
+the popular song and was meditating some pleasantly-devised way of
+surprising the old man with his thanks for his loyalty, when the vile
+insinuation made by the red-head drove everything else out of his mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The horse was shod; he flung himself into the saddle and galloped out
+of the town.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The rain had ceased, the clouds were broken. Steaming with moisture,
+its outlines glimmering in the light of the setting sun, Rautschin was
+left behind. Long streaks of violet cloud with golden edges, lay just
+above the horizon, and where the sun was setting, the sky glowed dully
+red. The storm had torn the bridal wreath from the head of spring; on
+the surface of the water lying in the ruts and hollows of the roads
+glinted snowy, fallen blossoms, and the apple-trees and pear-trees
+trembled softly in their tattered white array, like young people
+awakened from a dream. By the roadside stretched a sheet of water, its
+shores bristling with rushes, its surface bluish-gray and gloomy, like
+a large pool into which the sky had fallen and been drowned. A couple
+of ravens were flapping heavily above it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The golden edges of the clouds grew narrower, the glow of the sunset
+was consumed in its own fire, the colours faded, and profound
+melancholy brooded over all the plain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald's blood was still in a ferment. &quot;Rascally dog!&quot; he muttered
+between his teeth ....&quot;and to have to drop the matter for my mother's
+sake, not to be able to thrash him within an inch of his life, and
+drive him from the country! No human being is safe from such envious
+liars, they would drag down everything above them, even the Lord God
+Himself! Bah, <i>cela ne devrait pas monter jusque à la hauteur de mon
+dèdain</i>. But,&quot;--he shook himself,--&quot;it takes more than one's will to
+calm the blood.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Twilight had set in when he reached Tornow Castle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a spacious, clumsy structure with several court-yards, one
+portion with pointed Gothic archways was ancient, irregular and
+picturesque, another part was of a later rococo style with conventional
+decoration. In front, fringed by tall alders lay a romantic little
+lake, the park stretched far to the rear of the castle. The iron gate
+with its quaint scroll work, above which was suspended the Lodrin
+escutcheon, between two time-stained sandstone urns, turned upon its
+rusty hinges, and Oswald rode up to the castle and dismounted. Two
+lackeys, who seemed to have little to do save to wear their blue
+liveries and striped waistcoats with due dignity, and self-complacency,
+were standing in the gateway, peering into the gathering darkness. The
+young Count ran hastily up the broad, flat hall-steps.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The last pale ray of daylight penetrated into the hall, through the
+tiny panes of the huge windows; here and there the metallic lustre of
+some old weapon on the wall gleamed among the dusky shadows.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ossi, is that you?&quot; called a voice almost masculine in its deep tone,
+but musical withal and in evident anxiety, as a tall female figure
+advanced to meet him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, mother,&quot; he replied gently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How late you are! We have been waiting dinner an hour for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Forgive me, mother,&quot;--he carried her hand with reverent affection to
+his lips,--&quot;it really was not my fault.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fault--fault! I am not reproaching you, Ossi! No, but my child, I was
+half dead with anxiety. You are always so punctual, and one quarter of
+an hour after another passed and you did not come.--And then the storm.
+The lightning struck near here in several places, and your John Bull is
+skittish,--you do not think so,--but I know the beast well. If it had
+gone on for one more quarter of an hour .... but what detained you, my
+child?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald smiled tenderly and considerately, as tall chivalric sons are
+wont to smile at the exaggerated anxieties of their mothers. &quot;Give me
+only five minutes to change my dress and I will tell you all,&quot; he said,
+and once more kissing her hand he hurried away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald's was one of those impetuous temperaments which are always
+stirred to the depths morally and physically by a violent outburst of
+anger; even when its cause is forgotten every pulse and vein will still
+thrill.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Although he joined his mother in the drawing-room some minutes later in
+a perfectly cheerful mood, she instantly saw from his face that
+something must have provoked him excessively.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Anything disagreeable?&quot; she asked drawing him down beside her upon a
+sofa, &quot;did you have a distressing scene with Schmitt? did he reproach
+you? or ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Heaven forbid, mamma!&quot; broke in Oswald. &quot;Schmitt and reproach?--he is
+the most devoted soul--humiliatingly devoted and faithful! Poor
+Schmitt! No, no, my horse cast a shoe. I was terribly vexed, I had to
+ride slowly, and take the roundabout way through Rautschin.&quot; He spoke
+quickly and with forced gayety.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are concealing something, lest it should annoy me,&quot; the countess
+said decidedly. &quot;When will you learn that nothing in the world annoys
+me as much as your considerate reticence! I lie awake half the night
+when I see that you have some vexation to bear which you will not share
+with me. You ought to have no secrets from me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In a certain way every honourable man must have secrets from her whom
+he respects as I respect you,&quot; Oswald said half-annoyed, half-tenderly,
+while he puzzled his brains to discover a way of pacifying his mother
+without telling either a falsehood or the whole truth. A brilliant idea
+then occurred to him. &quot;In fact the matter is a very stupid affair. In
+the inn where I stopped during the storm I suddenly heard one of three
+men who were in the room speak with contempt of the Lodrin generosity;
+the fellow asserted that on the Lodrin estates the labourers lived in
+pens like pigs, and,--er--my temperament is not exactly stoical, and
+I,--in short I got angry. It is hard to hear such things when one
+honestly tries to treat his people well! And there may be some truth in
+it; I will make inquiries to-morrow, no, I will find out for myself. I
+can learn nothing from my bailiffs, they only cajole me. Last year
+there was typhus fever in Morowitz, the people died like flies, and I
+knew nothing of it; when at last I did learn about it I went there
+immediately, but the epidemic was well nigh at an end. <i>A propos</i>,
+mamma, I cannot but forgive you if it be so, but was it not all
+concealed from me at your request? You knew that I should go over there
+at once, and you were afraid of contagion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, my dear child,&quot; the countess said gravely, &quot;foolishly anxious as I
+am about you upon trifling occasions,--and I have just shown how
+foolishly anxious I can be,--I never would lift a finger to seclude you
+from a peril if such peril lay in the path of duty. I would rather die
+of anxiety than hamper you or exert a detracting influence upon you in
+your line of conduct. I would be broken on the wheel to save your life,
+but----&quot; she shuddered and moved closer to him,--&quot;I would rather see
+you dead, than anything else save what you are--my pride, and a
+blessing to all around you!&quot; She looked him full in the face, the
+mother's large, earnest eyes gleaming with exultant enthusiasm. &quot;If you
+only knew how I suffered during that stupid storm! I am so glad to have
+you again, my boy, my fine, noble boy!&quot; And drawing his head down to
+her she kissed him on the brow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The rustle of a newspaper attracted Oswald's attention, and for the
+first time he observed Georges, who, buried in the depths of a
+luxurious arm-chair, had been watching from behind his newspaper the
+little scene between mother and son.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A servant appeared at the door--dinner was announced.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very remarkable!&quot; Georges said a few hours later as, smoking a cigar,
+he entered his cousin's bedroom, where Oswald was already in bed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is very remarkable?&quot; Oswald asked drowsily as he lay on his back,
+his hands clasped under his head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The change in your mother,&quot; said Georges, sitting down on the edge of
+the bed, &quot;I should hardly have known her again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can't understand that,&quot; Oswald rejoined. &quot;Her hair has grown
+gray--it grew gray when she was quite young,--but her features are the
+same. I think her very beautiful still.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I think her more beautiful than ever,&quot; Georges said gravely, &quot;but....&quot;
+he thoughtfully blew the smoke from his cigar upwards to the
+ceiling--&quot;how old is your mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fifty-six.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Only fifty-six--and yet she seems an old woman.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;An old woman....! What are you thinking of? My mother can do nearly as
+much as I can, she can ride for five hours at a time, and can take long
+walks and never....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear fellow,&quot; interrupted Georges impatiently. &quot;I did not mean to
+say that your respected mamma seemed at all decrepit, but only that her
+features, her whole bearing, wear the stamp of that calm, kindly
+cheerfulness that belongs to those who have done with life. She asks
+nothing more--she bestows. And that, Ossi, is not a characteristic of
+youth--no, not of even, the most generous youth.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There you are right,&quot; Oswald rejoined thoughtfully. &quot;Many a woman of
+her age would still go into society and enjoy its distractions, she,
+since my father's death, has had no thought of anything except my
+education and the management of my property. It is wonderful, the
+knowledge she has of business. You would laugh if I should tell you of
+what large sums she saved up for me during my minority. Such strict
+economy was not to my taste, and I put a stop to it, but it must be
+forgiven in a mother.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And the gentleness and kindness of her manner!&quot; Georges continued,
+&quot;her unreasoning maternal nervousness! I assure you it was no easy
+task, the hour spent in trying to allay her anxiety. Her feeling for
+you is positive idolatry.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Try to be patient with this weakness of hers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear boy, he would be a worthless fellow who did not respect this
+weakness. It only surprises me in your mother; I had not expected
+anything of the kind. Before I left home she kept you at such a
+distance. I could not then understand why she always treated you so
+coldly and harshly, and, to tell the truth, I took such, lack of
+affection on her part, very ill.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald leaned upon his elbow among the pillows. &quot;That was while my
+father was alive,&quot; he said softly, &quot;yes, I have often thought of that,
+and have thought also that I could explain her conduct. You see my
+father's foolish fondness for me irritated her, and she suppressed the
+manifestation of her own affection. Between ourselves, Georges, my
+mother was wretched in her marriage; her poor heart was always upon the
+rack, it could no more beat freely and naturally than a man with a rope
+tight about his neck can sing. I respected my father immensely,
+but ... well, Georges, look there....&quot; he pointed to a large painting
+above his bed, the portrait of the countess in the proud splendour of
+her youthful beauty, &quot;and then, look there....&quot; and he pointed to a
+white plaster death-mask framed in black velvet hanging on the wall
+opposite. &quot;As far back as I can remember, my father looked just like
+that; they were never congenial. And now let me go to sleep, old fellow,
+good-night!&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">No, 'congenial' they never had been and never could have been.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Although the painting was far from portraying the charm of the Countess
+Lodrin's beauty in the bloom of youth, the repulsive death-mask
+opposite did full justice to the deceased count. The face that it
+represented was almost horse-like in its length; smoothly shaven as
+that of a monk, with a sharp-pointed nose, little round eyes, a mouth
+like the slit in a child's money-jug, and seamed with innumerable
+wrinkles, it resembled one of those bloodless aged heads which abound
+in pictures by Memmling or Van Eyck.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It would be an error to suppose that illness and the final agony had
+distorted the face before it had been perpetuated in the plaster cast.
+Count Lodrin had never looked otherwise, he had always looked like a
+corpse, and Pistasch Kamenz boldly maintained that 'the old gentleman
+looked his best in his coffin.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Not only Count Pistasch, but everybody else ridiculed Count Lodrin; few
+men have ever lived who have been more ridiculed. One fact, however, no
+ridicule could affect--Count Lodrin was a gentleman through and
+through.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That he possessed a tender heart and a sense of duty, which, in spite
+of the vacillations of a timid temperament, always triumphed in
+important crises, no one had ever denied who had seen him in any grave
+emergency,--and that this sense of duty, with a mild admixture of pride
+of rank, belonged to him more as a gentleman than as a human being, did
+not detract from his merit.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Given over in his youth to the ghostly influence of priestly tutors, he
+had led a melancholy, misanthropic existence. His delicate constitution
+made impossible any participation in the manly sports of his equals in
+rank. Therefore there was developed in him, as in many another recluse,
+an intense devotion to art; he was indefatigable in sifting and
+enlarging his collections.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">People of his rank usually marry young. It was not so with him. As with
+several historic characters, the timidity of his temperament culminated
+in an aversion to women, which rendered futile all the bold schemes of
+ambitious mammas. In his solitude he had come to be forty-five years
+old; it was an article of faith in Austrian society that he never would
+marry, when suddenly his betrothal to Wjera Zinsenburg was announced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His brother's creditors made wry faces; society laughed. Two months
+afterwards the strange couple were united in the chapel of the palace
+of the Zinsenburgs. Among those present at the ceremony there were some
+who envied the bridegroom, many who ridiculed him, and a few who pitied
+him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As the pair stood beside each other before the altar they presented a
+strange contrast.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The face of the bride, nobly chiselled, and with an indignant curve of
+the full, red lips, recalled to the minds of all who had been in Rome a
+beautiful but unpleasing memory,--the profile of the Medusa in the
+Villa Ludovisi, that wondrous relievo in which the pride of a demon
+seems contending with the suffering of an angel.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The bridegroom looked as he did fifteen years afterward on his bier,
+only more unhappy, for upon the bier his face wore the expression of a
+man who had just been relieved of an old burden; at the altar his
+expression was that of one who bends beneath the weight of a burden
+just assumed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was shortly manifest that no late-awakened passion had decided him
+to contract this alliance. A weaker will had been forced to bow before
+a stronger.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">But what had induced the exquisitely-beautiful girl to choose such a
+husband as this, every one asked; and no one answered. The question had
+to be dismissed with a shrug, and, 'She is a riddle!'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The same thing had been said four years previously, when with an air of
+proud indifference, and with cold, 'level-fronting eyelids,' she had
+appeared in Vienna society. There was about her an exotic air always
+irresistible to the genuine Austrian temperament. Her father was a
+diplomatist, her mother a Russian. Wjera's Russian blood betrayed
+itself in everything about her, in her deep, almost harsh voice, which
+was, nevertheless, capable of exquisite modulations, in the hybrid
+combination of Oriental nonchalance and northern energy that
+characterized her whole bearing, her gestures, her figure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When she reclined upon a divan or leaned back in an arm-chair there was
+a suggestion of the odalisque in her attitude; but in her walk there
+was a short, sharp rhythm; it was firm and despotic like that of a
+race-horse, and yet light as the fluttering of a bird. She was tall and
+not too slender--the beauty of her shoulders and bust was so great that
+it had become famous--her head was small and faultlessly poised upon
+her neck--her features were not perfectly regular, but how charming was
+her face! pale, with ripe red lips, and brown hair with a shimmer of
+gold about the temples and the back of the neck. The cheek-bones were
+rather too high, the face not quite oval enough; the brow was low; the
+profile haughty, and delicately modelled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The most remarkable feature of Wjera's face was her eyes. Long in their
+openings, but usually half-closed and shaded by dark eyelashes, they
+were as changing in colour as in expression, and there was in them
+something uncanny--mysterious--no one dared to look full into their
+depths.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course she created a sensation in Vienna, and yet she had almost no
+suitors--they were afraid of her and--she had a history, neither
+disgraceful nor dishonourable, but yet a history.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In St. Petersburg, where she had been with her father, she had been
+distinguished by the homage of a prince of the blood, and was finally
+betrothed to him. For a year the betrothal was kept up, and then the
+tie was suddenly snapped. The world discovered the reason in the fact
+that Wjera could not consent to a morganatic marriage; her ambition had
+been defeated. The true significance of the breach the world at large
+did not divine. Only very few suspected that Wjera had loved the
+man--so much her inferior in all save rank and birth--with all the
+fervour and poetic purity that are found in Russian girls alone. She
+did not see him as he really was, handsome, with a superficial air of
+distinction, but mentally coarse--alternating between brutish excesses
+and superstitious penances--at once cynical as a roué and sentimental
+as a school-miss,--no, she endowed him nobly in her imagination.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of all poets in the world the hearts of young girls are the most highly
+gifted. There are women whose illusions are so tough that they carry
+them to their graves undamaged; there are others who voluntarily patch
+up the rents, made by their understanding in their illusions, in order
+that an ideal--of which they would perhaps be ashamed if it stood
+unveiled before them, and to break with which they yet have neither the
+desire nor the force--may not be without a decent garment to cover it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was not so with Wjera; when doubt had once sown discord between her
+head and her heart, she fought out the battle unflinchingly,
+inexorably, in strict honesty, and when the conflict was over her dream
+had vanished. In this wondrously lovely illusion she had exhausted all
+the ideality of her nature. Her reason gained the upperhand at last,
+and ever after she analyzed her fellow-mortals with sharp precision;
+judging them with harsh justice, and speaking of the affections with an
+unaffected, contemptuous coolness very rare in a girl so young.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Time passed by. She came to be twenty-six years old. She was the eldest
+and the handsomest of five daughters, and her distaste for marriage
+increased the difficulty of providing for the other sisters, and
+excited unpleasant remark among her family circle. Chance introduced
+Count Lodrin to her acquaintance, and perhaps because he seemed to her
+a respectable nullity, she selected him for her husband.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No one could remember ever having seen so ill-matched a pair. She,
+aglow with life, delighting in physical exercises, a reckless and
+indefatigable horsewoman--to whom a steeple-chase was no more than is a
+waltz to other women,--and he, paying with an attack of illness for
+every unusual physical effort, not even daring to take a long drive
+without an extra cushion at his back.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whilst his thoughts moved slowly in a traditional roundabout way, 'her
+woman's wit flew straight and did exactly hit,' before the Count had
+cleared his throat for his first 'consequently.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her quick wit bewildered him; her outspoken acuteness of discernment
+offended him. There was a world-wide dissimilarity between her views
+and his. The Count was a strict Catholic; the Countess was inclined to
+scepticism; although cast in a loftier mould, in her daring mockery and
+her graceful eccentricity she recalled the fine ladies of the
+eighteenth century--of that time when social and mental freedom, made
+fashionable by philosophers, had not yet been degraded to vulgarity by
+demagogues. His wife's wicked wit shocked poor Count Lodrin. Much
+ridicule was cast upon the couple, but every one was none the less glad
+to belong to the brilliant circle which the Countess drew around her,
+and daily the wonder grew that calumny could not touch the beautiful
+wife of this dead-and-alive dotard.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Three years passed; now and then women hinted innuendoes about Wjera
+Lodrin, but the other sex continued to speak of her with that mixture
+of admiration and irritation which bears the truest testimony to the
+blamelessness of a very beautiful woman. At last society was content to
+shrug its shoulders and to repeat, 'She is a riddle.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess was unutterably bored. The only occupation that she
+pursued with inexhaustible interest, though at the same time with
+reckless intrepidity, was riding.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She has no sphere of activity; hers is the grand, fiery nature of a
+gifted man beating against the petty barriers of feminine existence.
+What is to come of it?&quot; a sagacious student of human nature once said,
+in speaking of her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All at once there was a decided change for the worse in Count Lodrin's
+health, and the physicians prescribed a sojourn in the South.
+Reluctantly enough the Countess consented to accompany her husband.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They set out, and the world maliciously compared Wjera to Juana of
+Castile, because she travelled with a corpse, and a father-confessor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Count found Nice quite too gay, and therefore took refuge in a
+secluded villa in the Riviera.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess nearly died of ennui in the gray, sultry, sirocco-like
+monotony of an autumn heavy with the fragrance of roses, and in the
+tedium of an Italian winter. In spring the pair returned to Bohemia,
+the Count in somewhat better health, the Countess as cold and hard as
+ever, but irritable to a degree until now quite foreign to her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the August after their return Oswald was born. The old Count could
+not contain himself for joy; the Countess cared but very little for the
+child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was the woman whom Georges had known fifteen years before, and
+now,--he could hardly believe his senses!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before he went to bed on the first night of his return to Tornow, he
+stood for a long while at the window of his room looking thoughtfully
+out into the night. The moon was high in the heavens; everything was
+still, save for a low rustle now and then in the huge lindens growing
+on the border of the pond in front of the castle. The ancient trees
+seemed to stir and stretch themselves in their sleep. His gaze wandered
+over the compact angular architecture of the high, black-gabled roofs,
+the rows of houses with tiny windows, in the little town,--all bathed
+in bluish moonlight. It was hardly changed since he had last seen
+it,--in the castle everything was changed. What had become of the
+social distractions in which the Countess Lodrin had been wont to
+delight?--Vanished, as by magic. The entire castle impressed him as
+having recovered from a restless fever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had the Countess's former cold, harsh demeanour been but the mask for
+the intense hunger of a strangely dowered nature that could find no fit
+nourishment? And had love for her child filled up at last the fearful
+rift made in her inmost life by an early disappointment?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges asked himself these questions. Once more his glance wandered to
+the pond in whose waters the moon was mirrored. &quot;Strange!&quot; he
+murmured,--&quot;today it was but a dark pool, and now in the moonlight it
+gleams a silver disk! Hm! Extraordinary, how true maternal love will
+hallow every woman's heart! Strange exceedingly! what must she not have
+suffered in her life ...!&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The bright spring sunshine streamed through the open bow-window of the
+Countess's boudoir and stretched a broad band of light at her feet. She
+was sitting in an arm-chair knitting with very thick wooden needles and
+coarse brown worsted, something evidently destined for a charitable
+purpose.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boudoir, an irregular square room and with a picturesque
+bow-window, was furnished with no regard to uniformity of style, and
+therefore had the charm which characterizes rooms which have been as it
+were gradually evolved from the habits and tastes of a cultured
+occupant, until they are the frame or setting of an individuality. A
+delightful confusion of comfort and feminine taste reigned here, and
+the two or three trifling articles that offended all artistic sense,
+struck the eye only as piquant beauty spots. The cabinets, filled with
+rare old porcelain, threw into strong relief the ugly inkstand and
+candlesticks of modern dark-blue Sèvres upon a writing-table. They
+were a memento,--a marriage gift from a Russian cousin and youthful
+playmate who fell in the Crimean war. Among some old pictures, an
+Andrea del Sarto, a Franz Hals, and two Wateaus, hung in triumphant
+self-complacency a portrait by Lawrence--a man's head and bust,--a
+crimson-lined cloak was thrown around the shoulders, the shirt collar
+was open, black hair fell low on the brow, the eyes were large and
+wild, the frankly smiling mouth was exquisitely chiselled. It hung just
+over the writing-table, lord of all, and was the portrait of Oswald
+Zinsenburg, an uncle of the Countess, a gifted fellow, who, when
+Secretary of Legation in England, had been intimate with Lord Byron,
+and in all the romantic ardour of a young aristocrat fighting for
+freedom, had died of brain fever at Missolonghi at the age of
+twenty-seven, shortly after Lord Byron's death.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This portrait the Countess Wjera loves, principally because it is so
+like her son, and upon it her gaze rested as she dropped the long
+wooden-needles in her lap, and fell into a revery.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The air of the room was penetrated with the delicious fragrance of the
+roses, and lilies of the valley that filled the various vases.
+Everything was quiet,--the birds were taking their siesta, the faint
+pattering of the horse-chestnut blossoms could be heard as they fell
+upon the gravel path, before the castle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The drowsy midday stillness was suddenly broken by a softly whistled
+Russian gipsy melody and an elastic young footstep. The Countess turned
+her head. She knew the air well--how often she had sung it! The
+whistling came nearer, then ceased, and the door of the boudoir opened.
+&quot;May we come in?&quot; a cheery voice asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Always welcome!&quot; replied the Countess, and Oswald, followed by a large
+shaggy Newfoundland, entered, his curls wet and clinging to his
+forehead, a bunch of waterlilies in his hand, and looking more than
+ever like the portrait by Lawrence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good morning, mamma; how are you? Make your bow, Darling--so, old
+fellow--so!&quot; And as the Newfoundland gravely lowered his fine head, a
+performance for which he was duly caressed by his master, Oswald sank
+into a low seat beside his mother.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have been bathing,&quot; she observed, stroking back his wet hair.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, I have been swimming in the lake at Wolnitz, and I have brought
+you these waterlilies,&quot; he replied, laying the flowers in her lap,
+&quot;they are the first I have seen this year, and they are your favourite
+flowers, are they not? How fair and melancholy they are! Strange that
+these pure white things should spring from such slimy mud! May I?&quot;
+taking out his cigar-case.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course, my child. What have you been about to-day? I have not seen
+you before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I went out very early. I had sent for the forester to come to me at
+seven, and I went with him to the new plantations. The young firs are
+as straight as soldiers. And then I dawdled about in the woods--it was
+so lovely there!--'tis the earth's honeymoon, and when I see everything
+blossoming out in the sunshine, I think of all that lies in the near
+future for me, and I feel like shouting for joy! Apropos, mamma, I have
+found a site for the Widow's Asylum that you want to found. I have been
+puzzling over the best situation for it, and I have decided to put the
+old Elizabeth monastery at the disposal of your benevolence. Is this
+what you would like?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She held out her hand to him with a smile. &quot;Have you found time to
+think of that too? I thought you had forgotten my scheme long ago.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah yes, I am in the habit of forgetting your wishes!&quot; he said gaily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, Heaven knows you are not,&quot; the Countess murmured, &quot;you have always
+been loving and considerate to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And what else could I be, mamma?&quot; he said affectionately. &quot;Ah, on a
+glorious spring day like this, when the world is so beautiful, and my
+blood goes coursing in my veins with delight, I am tempted to kneel
+down before you and thank you for the dear life you have bestowed upon
+me--what is the matter, mamma, you have suddenly grown so pale?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is nothing--only a slight pain in my heart--it has gone already,&quot;
+the Countess whispered, turning aside her head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quite gone?--is it my cigar smoke?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not at all, dear child!&quot;--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In spite of this assertion he tossed his cigar out of the window. &quot;You
+used to smoke yourself,&quot; he observed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; she said, looking down at her knitting, &quot;but since I have
+learned to employ my hands, I have given up smoking.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You knit instead--It seems odd to me to see <i>you</i> knitting. Georges
+thinks you very much altered.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have grown old, <i>voilà!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And he thinks too that you spoil me tremendously, that no mother in
+all Austria spoils her son as you do me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No other mother has such a son,&quot; the Countess said proudly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, oh!&quot; he laughed and took his seat beside her again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nevertheless, I am not blind to your faults,&quot; she continued, &quot;I know
+them all.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And love every one of them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Because they are the faults of a noble nature--men of lower tendencies
+are obliged to show more self-control.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed! God bless your aristocratic prejudices! and now for a piece of
+news. The Truyns reach Rautschin to-morrow by the four o'clock train.
+Will you drive with me to meet them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly, if you wish me to.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I wish you to--if I wish you to!&quot;--he softly snapped his fingers,
+&quot;and you look all the while as if I had asked you to attend an
+execution with me. I cannot quite understand you, mamma, you used to
+take delight in every little pleasure that chance threw in my way, and
+now will you not rejoice in my great happiness? As soon as there is any
+allusion made to my betrothal, your whole manner changes; you grow so
+distant and reserved, that I hardly like to mention my betrothed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I really did not know, Ossi ...&quot; began the Countess with constraint.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, yes, mother, I felt in Paris that you were not pleased with my
+betrothal, and I have racked my brain to discover what there can be
+about it that you do not like, and I can not imagine what it is. There
+can be no objection to make to Gabrielle.&quot; Then suddenly smiling in the
+midst of his irritation, and curbing the impetuous flow of his words,
+he asked in a lower tone and more calmly, &quot;Ah, <i>ça</i>, mamma, perhaps you
+dislike the connection with my darling's stepmother? I assure you
+that ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nonsense!&quot; replied the Countess, growing still more disturbed, &quot;from
+what you and Georges both tell me of the young woman, she seems to
+adapt herself very well to her position. A residence abroad and foreign
+associations are much better means of training than ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, mamma,&quot; interrupted Oswald in some surprise, having followed out
+his own train of thought, &quot;but if you are so kindly disposed towards
+Zinka, I cannot possibly conceive what exception you can take to my
+betrothal. There never was a purer, more noble creature than my little
+Gabrielle. Highly as I rank you, mother, she is every way worthy of
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess changed colour, &quot;I do not understand what you wish,&quot; she
+exclaimed, &quot;do not distress me, I have no objection to the girl!....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well then,--you could not possibly expect me to remain unmarried.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess cast down her eyes and was silent.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald sprang up, called his dog and left the room, his face very pale,
+his eyes very dark.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Impetuous and hasty as he was with others, he had always controlled
+himself in his mother's presence. Leaving the room was the extreme
+point to which he allowed his displeasure to manifest itself when with
+her. If he wished to vent his anger, he did it in seclusion, he never
+had spoken an angry word--scarcely a loud one to her. And his
+disagreeable mood never lasted long.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am myself again, mamma!&quot; with these words, in which he was wont to
+announce his return to a better frame of mind, he presented himself
+half an hour afterward in his mother's boudoir. She was sitting just as
+he had left her, the waterlilies in her lap, very pale, very erect,
+with the set features that veil distress of mind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Pushing his chair close up to her he laid his hand upon her shoulder,
+and said with the winning tenderness of all impetuous men after bursts
+of anger: &quot;Forgive me, mamma, I was very wrong again!&quot; She smiled
+faintly and murmured some half inaudible words of affection--&quot;I was
+odiously egotistical,&quot; he went on, &quot;I had quite forgotten what a change
+my marriage will make in your life, what a trial it must be to you, you
+poor, foolish, jealous little mother! But whatever change there may be
+outwardly in our relations, we must always be the same in heart; and if
+I must deprive you of something,&quot; he added gaily, &quot;my children shall
+requite you. It had to come sooner or later, mamma; or could you really
+wish me to renounce the fairest share of existence?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She trembled in every limb, and suddenly taking his hand, before he
+could prevent it, she carried it to her lips, &quot;No, you shall renounce
+no joy, my child, my noble child!&quot; she exclaimed,--&quot;but--leave me now
+for a while, for only a little while--I am tired!&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn had insisted that the betrothal of his daughter to Oswald Lodrin
+should be celebrated in Bohemia. Zinka had yielded with great
+reluctance and sorrow, and had at last resolved to bid farewell to her
+dear foreign home.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why,&quot; she persisted in asking him, &quot;cannot the ceremony take place, as
+in our own case, at the Austrian Embassy?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Truyn would not hear of it. &quot;Dear heart,&quot; he replied, &quot;it would go
+against the grain. The betrothals of all my sisters and of my aunts
+were celebrated at Rautschin, why should I depart from the traditions
+of my family?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As if you had not already departed from them, and in the most vital
+regard,&quot; said Zinka, with arch tenderness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That is a very different thing,--if there were any good reason,
+then--then--!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, dear friend, you have grown insufferably conservative, you would
+have shouted on the first day of the creation of the world: '<i>Conserves
+le chaos, seigneur Dieu, conservez le chaos!</i>'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whereupon Truyn, kissing her hand, made reply. &quot;That comes of living in
+France, dear child.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And so the pretty house in the Avenue Labédoyère was deserted. The
+shutters were closed, the carpets rolled up, the bric-à-brac stowed
+away; only in some roundabout fashion did a bluish beam of light slip
+into the vault-like obscurity, and the restless motes pursue their
+fantastic dance among the shrouded shapes of the furniture.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Truyn family were rapidly approaching their home. Nearly thirty
+hours had passed since Paris had faded from their eyes in the misty
+blue distance--since the last gigantic announcement of the '<i>Belle
+Jardinière</i>,' and of the '<i>Pauvre diable</i>' had flitted past them. The
+Bavarian boundary, with its stupid Custom House formalities lay behind
+them. Truyn was reading a Vienna newspaper with great interest,
+Gabrielle was gazing abstractedly at the crimson coupé cushions
+opposite, with the far-away look in her eyes of young lovers. Zinka was
+leaning back in her corner, her veil half drawn aside, her hands folded
+in her lap, the latest impressions of her Paris life hovering
+kaleidiscopically before her mental vision, her heart oppressed by a
+strange melancholy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, this defamed, delightful Paris! how it captivates the heart with
+its good-for-nothing beauty, and its corrupt, sickly sentiment!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She was still mentally rehearsing the last days before her departure,
+the going to and fro from shop to shop, the interesting consultations
+with Monsieur Worth, the affected face with which that eminent artist
+put his finger to his lip, while attending the ladies to their
+carriage, and continued to 'compose' Gabrielle's wedding dress,
+murmuring to himself with his English accent: &quot;<i>Oui, oui, une
+orginalité distahnguée c'est ce qu'il fant</i>,&quot; while sleek young clerks,
+and young girls faultless in figure, displayed to the best advantage
+the richest costumes, trailing about silks and satins of fabulous
+elegance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Ce n'est pas cela, qui ferait votre affaire, Madame la Comtesse je le
+sais bien</i>,&quot; said Mons. Worth pointing to certain monstrosities devised
+for American parvenus, &quot;ah, Madame la Comtesse cannot imagine, how hard
+it is for an artist to have to work for people of no taste! <i>Ah oui,
+une originalité distahnguée!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The man-milliner's, monotonous refrain kept sounding on in Zinka's
+ears. Then she thought of the farewell visits, the daily heap of cards
+filling the great copper salver in the vestibule, the wearisome
+farewell entertainments, and of her husband's toast--the toast which he
+proposed at the magnificent banquet, given in his honour, by the
+Austrian Hungarians in Paris. Unutterably distasteful as it always is
+to men of his stamp, to be conspicuous, he at last made up his mind to
+propose this toast; he worked at it for an entire week, and subjected
+it to the criticism, not only of his wife and of his daughter, but of
+every one whose judgment he respected in Paris. It was a masterpiece of
+a toast, a toast designed to unite in brotherly affection all the
+Austrians in Paris, and which ultimately, with its well-meant,
+many-sided compliments gave occasion for dissatisfaction to every
+member of the Austrian-Hungarian colony, whether conservative or
+liberal. Zinka laughed to herself as she recalled that poor
+misunderstood toast. She laughed outright, started, and--awoke--rubbed
+her eyes and looked out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Yes, Paris lay far behind her, very far. She was in Austria, beautiful,
+dreamingly-drowsy Austria, and, in spite of the reluctance with which
+she returned to her fatherland, it affected her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A low blue chain of hills lay on the western horizon like a vanishing
+storm-cloud. The landscape around was level and extended. Large, quiet
+pools, surrounded by tall rushes, and covered with a network of
+fragrant waterlilies, gleamed here and there among the emerald meadows.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sun was near its setting. The shadows of the telegraph poles
+stretched out indefinitely. Little towns contentedly sleeping away
+their dull lives among green lindens, showed their old-fashioned
+silhouettes, black against the sunlit evening clouds.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn laid aside his newspaper, and his face grew eager and animated,
+every knotted gnarled willow, every half-ruinous garden wall here
+interested him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A forest of firs, their trunks glowing red in the last rays of the sun,
+bordered the railway. &quot;There, just by that stunted fir, I shot my first
+deer,&quot; Truyn exclaimed, and in his eyes sparkled the memory of a happy
+boyhood; then, drawing Zinka to him, he whispered tenderly: &quot;You are at
+home, Zini; we are travelling upon our own soil.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah,&quot; replied Zinka, nestling close to him, timid as a child afraid of
+ghosts.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How nervous you are!&quot; he said, gently stroking her cheek--&quot;you silly
+little goose you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is not for myself,&quot; she whispered, &quot;so long as you love me, you and
+Ella, I can bear anything. But I know you--it would grieve you to the
+very heart, if ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tickets, if you please!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A breathless panting--a shrill whistle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rautschin--five minutes stay!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Aunt Wjera!&quot; Gabrielle exclaimed, joyously hurrying out of the coupé.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was something like defiance in Zinka's heart, but when she saw
+the woman, who in all her exquisite beauty, all the distinguished grace
+of manner inspired by kindness and cordiality, advanced to meet them,
+her defiant mood vanished in admiration, and with a feeling of almost
+childlike reverence, she bowed to the superiority of the elder lady,
+who greeted her most cordially.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After the first excitement of meeting was over, Countess Wjera's
+attention was naturally concentrated upon her son's betrothed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can but congratulate you from my heart, Ossi,&quot; she said earnestly,
+looking full into the young girl's eyes--eyes that shone like two blue
+violets under the clearest skies--violets that had suffered nothing
+from late frosts or too ardent sunshine. &quot;You are a favourite of
+fortune, my child.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gabrielle blushed, and buried her face in the bunch of white roses,
+which Oswald had brought her; and Oswald was touched, and smiled his
+thanks to his mother, as he whispered a tender word to his betrothed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you know who came in the same train with us?&quot; Truyn suddenly asked,
+interrupting the happy moment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Capriani, father and son, I saw them,&quot; said Oswald, &quot;look at him,
+mamma, there is my rival, the enterprising young spark, who sued for
+Gabrielle's hand. A mad idea, was it not? Gabrielle, and a son of
+Capriani!--we shouted with laughter, when the Melkweyser announced the
+proposal.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The flurry of the arrival had subsided, and the Countess leisurely
+inspected through her eyeglass the sallow young man who was talking
+with Georges Lodrin. Gabrielle said something about his dark blue
+travelling-suit, shot with gold; Zinka made inquiries, all in a breath,
+of her husband, and of the two lady's-maids, whether this or that
+article of luggage had not been left in Paris or in the railway coupé.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When at last all her anxieties on this point had been relieved, and
+they had passed through the station to the carriages, they observed a
+magnificent four-in-hand, the harness decorated with a coronet.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;By Jove!&quot; Truyn exclaimed with delight, &quot;superb, Ossi, superb! I have
+rarely seen four such beauties together!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nor have I,&quot; said Oswald, examining the horses critically,
+&quot;unfortunately they are not mine--they belong to Capriani.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Impossible!&quot; Truyn said disdainfully, &quot;speculator that he is, he may
+bore through the isthmus of Panama, for all I care, but he cannot get
+together such a four-in-hand as that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fritz Malzin selected and arranged it for him,&quot; Oswald explained.
+&quot;Poor Fritz!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot understand him,&quot; Truyn said in an undertone, and hastily
+changing the subject, he asked: &quot;Have you come to terms with Capriani,
+about the Kanitz affair, Ossi? Could not the sale be revoked?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The matter would have been very difficult to adjust, I am told--of
+course I understand nothing of such things,--&quot; replied Oswald, &quot;but
+Capriani--what will you say to this, uncle?--yielded the point, 'out of
+special regard' for me, as his lawyer informed Dr. Schindler. Between
+ourselves, it was--what word shall I use?--audacious, for I have never
+spoken to him in my life, and yet I had to accept his uncalled-for
+courtesy, for Schmitt's sake.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Remarkable, very!&quot; said Truyn, &quot;We usually have to pay dear for the
+courtesies of a Capriani and his kind!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you everything, Ella?&quot; asked Zinka, &quot;shall we start?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should like to have my hand-bag, Hortense has left it with the large
+luggage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Meanwhile, with an unpleasant smile and hat in hand, a sallow-faced,
+grey-haired, elderly man, with the look of a bird of prey, approached
+the Countess Wjera, and held out his right hand. &quot;I am immensely
+gratified, your Excellency, after so long a time ....!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess, her eyes half closed, measured him haughtily. &quot;With whom
+have I the pleasure ...?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Conte Capriani.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess silently shrugged her shoulders, and turning half away,
+called in an irritated tone, &quot;Are we ready to go at last, Ossi?....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A whirling cloud of dust was soon the only trace left of the bustle of
+the arrival.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The short drive was spent by Truyn in reminiscences, by the betrothed
+pair in sentiment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At the tea, which was awaiting the travellers, and of which the
+Lodrin's stayed to partake, there was much laughter over the <i>chic</i> of
+the Caprianis, over their wealth, and--their obtrusiveness. Oswald
+suddenly grew thoughtful.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you ever before meet these people, mamma?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I never knew any Conte Capriani in my life,--who are these Caprianis?&quot;
+asked the Countess.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nobody knows,&quot; said Oswald. &quot;Some say he is a Greek, some that he
+comes from Marseilles, and others that he is a Turk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They are all wrong,&quot; Georges said drily, &quot;he comes originally from
+Bohemia; he was formerly a physician, and his name was Stein.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>BOOK SECOND.</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Rautschin, still Rautschin!--the tiny town lying at the feet of the
+huge castle on the tower of which the clock has stopped for twenty
+years--but no longer in pouring rain with thunder and lightning, but
+Rautschin beneath skies of sapphire blue, upon a hot July afternoon.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sun was still high in the heavens. The crooked little row of houses
+on one side of the Market Square, cast short, black shadows, the
+national red kerchiefs, with broad borders of gay flowers hanging at
+the door of the principal shop, fluttered gently in the summer breeze.
+A melancholy hubbub of discords, struggling in vain for a solution, was
+heard through the open window of one of the newest and ugliest houses.
+Eugéne Alexander Cibulka, and the wife of the district commissioner,
+were playing Wagner's 'Walküre,' arranged for four hands, and each had
+again 'lost the place.' They regularly lose the place every time a leaf
+is turned, and so the one who gets first to the bottom of the page,
+very kindly waits for the other.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Rautschin Castle stands proudly superior to every structure about it,
+ensconced behind all kinds of farm-buildings and additions, at the
+extreme end of the Market Square, to which it turns its shoulder, as it
+were. Except for its imposing dimensions, it is in no wise remarkable.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Standing at the entrance of a very extensive park, it dates from the
+time of Maria Theresa, when the present clumsy edifice, its prim façade
+defaced by grass-green shutters, was built upon the remains of a feudal
+fortress. The court-yard is not perfectly square, and the arches of the
+arcade rest upon granite pillars. Its interior is quite in accordance
+with its exterior; it is anything but splendid, and has an air of
+empty, dignified distinction.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before the western side of the Castle, Count Truyn with his young wife
+was sitting beneath the shade of a red and gray striped marquee; behind
+them in a garden-room, the glass doors of which were wide open, Oswald,
+standing on a step-ladder, was busy hanging on the wall a piece of
+gold-embroidered Oriental stuff, and Gabrielle was handing him the
+nails.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well Zini, are you beginning to like our home?&quot; said Truyn, propping
+his elbows upon the white garden table, between himself and his wife.
+He looked so contented, so proud of his possessions, so triumphant,
+that Zinka could not refrain from teasing him a little.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Taken all in all, yes,&quot; she said indifferently, &quot;but then taken all in
+all, I should like Siberia, with you and Ella.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Zinka! I must confess,&quot;--Truyn's face assumed a disturbed and almost
+offended expression, &quot;I must say that I cannot understand how any one
+can compare Rautschin to a place of exile!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I did not mean to do so, rest assured,&quot; Zinka said, &quot;I think your
+Rautschin very delightful, I should only like to alter a few details.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot abide improvements,&quot; growled Truyn, &quot;it is only the Caprianis
+and Company, who must always be beautifying everything old--that is
+destroying it. I think an old place should be left as it is, with all
+its characteristic defects--to try to improve them, seems to me like
+trying to correct the drawing of a Giotto or a Cimabue.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I can understand a respect for the old mis-drawings,&quot; Zinka rejoined
+quietly, &quot;but does one owe the same respect to modern retouching, to
+the vandalism that has made clumsy additions to an old picture?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hm!&quot; Truyn gazed thoughtfully around him--&quot;no, in fact. It is
+remarkable that you are always right, you little witch. Now be frank
+Zini; what exactly would you like to have different? So far as my
+veneration and my finances permit, you shall have your will.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Zinka pointed to the lawn that lay before them, terribly disfigured by
+bright red and yellow arabesques. &quot;I think that confectioner's
+ornamentation there almost as ugly as the carpet-gardening at the Villa
+Albani,&quot; she said, &quot;don't you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn ran his hands through his hair, &quot;Well, yes,&quot;--he meekly admitted
+after a pause, &quot;but I cannot possibly alter that. Old Kraus, to
+surprise me, has taken infinite pains to portray our crest on the
+lawn--I had to praise him for his brilliant idea, however hideous I
+thought the thing, don't you see, Zini?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That alters the case entirely,&quot; Zinka admitted. &quot;I would not hurt
+faithful old Kraus for the world. But&quot;--she pointed to the basin of a
+fountain, the shape of which was particularly ugly--&quot;old Kraus could
+not have designed that basin--that might be cleared away!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn looked thoroughly discomfited. &quot;The basin is a horror,&quot; he
+confessed, &quot;but I cannot help saying a good word for it. It is endeared
+to me by youthful associations--if only because when I was a boy of
+twelve, I was very nearly drowned in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh then indeed ....&quot; Zinka shrugged her shoulders, with a humourous air
+of resignation. &quot;I now hardly dare to object to the green shutters,&quot;
+she went on, &quot;for if, as in view of their colour is highly probable, they
+gave you opthalmia, some thirty years ago--it would ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, no, I give up the shutters,&quot; exclaimed Truyn laughing, &quot;let
+them go. And now I have something to tell you that you will not
+relish--no need to change colour, the matter is an inconvenience, not a
+trial. While I have been away--for the last ten years in fact--the park
+has been open to the public. The little town has no other public
+garden. I have, indeed, in view of this, placed an extensive tract of
+land at the disposal of the town Council, but it is not yet laid out,
+and until it is, I should not like entirely to deprive the public of
+the freedom of the Park. Therefore I should like to have you point out
+as soon as possible what part you would prefer to have reserved
+entirely for yourself, that it may be portioned off. Indeed I cannot
+help it, Zini.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will be as condescending at last as a crowned head,&quot; Zinka said
+laughing. &quot;You have already relinquished a corner of the park, because
+the new road, laid out for the convenience of the public, must run
+directly beneath your windows--and ...&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know--I know,&quot; Truyn interrupted her impatiently, &quot;but one owes
+something to the people. Of course you think 'my husband is a perfect
+simpleton, he'll put up with anything'--but ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you really no better idea of what I think of my husband, than
+that?&quot; Zinka asked in a low tone, looking at him with tender raillery
+in her eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh you sweet-natured little woman!&quot; he said, attempting to chuck her
+under the chin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you about?&quot; she exclaimed, thrusting his hand away, &quot;this
+wall here on the street is so low, that every little ragamuffin can see
+us. And let me tell you that this wall has seemed more odious than
+anything else to-day. Between ourselves--move your chair a little
+nearer, Erich--I have been all this while tormented by a desire to
+throw myself into your arms--you dear, good, whimsical fellow--but the
+wall!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Confound the wall!&quot; Truyn exclaimed, angrily clinching his fist.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tell me,&quot; Zinka asked caressingly, &quot;is the lowness of the wall also a
+question of humanity? Do you find it impossible to deny the townsfolk
+the satisfaction of conveniently observing the castle-folk?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pshaw! I was vexed about the height of the wall ten years ago--that is
+when the road was laid out, but--well, I cannot myself say why it
+is--but unless we have a rage for building, nothing is done. We
+complain for ten years about the same evil, and ...&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And to part with an evil about which one has complained for ten long
+years,&quot; interrupted Zinka laughing, &quot;would be almost as distressing as
+to clear away the basin of a fountain, in which one had been nearly
+drowned, thirty years before, eh, Erich?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The broad July sunshine lay upon the red and yellow splendour of the
+Truyn escutcheon, shimmered brilliantly about the foremost of the
+mighty trees, whose dark foliage contrasted with the emerald of the
+lawn where they stood, beyond the open, flower-decked portion of the
+park, and penetrated boldly into their thick shades, limning fanciful
+arabesques of light upon the darker green.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From the garden-room floated Gabrielle's sweet, childlike voice, &quot;<i>Io
+so una giardiniera</i>,&quot; she sang. Oswald had finished his upholstering,
+and was bending over the piano. He combined a sincere enjoyment of
+music with a deplorable preference for sentimental popular ballads.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The creaking of wheels intruded upon the dreamy monotony of the hour.
+Truyn leaned forward and started to his feet. &quot;Ah, old Swoboda, the
+doctor who attended Ella with the measles,&quot; he exclaimed joyfully,
+recognising Dr. Swoboda, in his comical little vehicle drawn by a white
+horse spotted with brown. &quot;Is he still alive? I must call him in.
+Holla! Doctor, how are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The doctor started, looked round, and took off his hat with a smile of
+delight, &quot;your servant, Count Truyn.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come in and have a chat,&quot; said Truyn, &quot;it was hardly fair not to have
+been to see us before.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, my dear Count, how could I suppose ...&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A few minutes later, the old doctor was seated opposite to Truyn,
+underneath the marquee, imparting to the Count exact information as to
+the weal and woe of a multitude of people belonging to the town, and to
+the country round, whom the proprietor of Rautschin remembered with
+wonderful distinctness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some had died, one or two were insane--a couple were bankrupt.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Infernal swindling speculations! is my dear old Rautschin beginning to
+be carried away by them?&quot; said Truyn, &quot;certain epidemics cannot be
+arrested. Sad--very sad! And now the <i>phylloxera</i> has taken up its
+abode in Schneeburg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is there much illness about here?&quot; Zinka asked the doctor, in hopes
+perhaps of staving off a conservative outburst from her husband.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;None of any consequence. My business is at a low ebb, your
+Excellency.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where have you just been, doctor?&quot; Truyn asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have just come from Schneeburg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah? anything seriously amiss in the Capriani household?--I could not
+shed a tear for King Midas.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Herr Count cannot suppose that those magnificoes would call in a
+poor country doctor, like myself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Swoboda, we all have the greatest confidence in you!&quot; Truyn
+said kindly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I thank you heartily, Herr Count, but this confidence is an old
+custom, and the Caprianis consider old customs as mere prejudices, and
+propose to do away with them. I have just come from our poor Count
+Fritz.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed? are the children ill?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, not ill, but ailing; there is something or other the matter with
+them all the time--they are city children;--however, I am not really
+anxious about them, they'll come all right. But I am sick at heart for
+poor Count Fritz, he is far from well.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, indeed? what is the matter with him?&quot; Truyn asked in a tone of
+evident irritation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;His unfortunate circumstances are killing him,&quot; the doctor replied
+gloomily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah--hm,--I must confess to you--er--my dear doctor,
+that--er--I take it very ill of Fritz, that he, er--accepted
+a position,--er--with--that,--er--adventurer.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old doctor looked the irritated gentleman full in the eyes. &quot;When
+one is homesick and sees his children, who cannot bear the city air,
+hungering for bread, one will do many things, which could not be
+contemplated for an instant, under even slightly improved
+circumstances.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ossi always told you ....&quot; began Zinka.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh pshaw! Ossi is an enthusiast, whose heart is always drowning out
+his head.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old doctor sighed. &quot;Well, I will intrude no longer,&quot; he said. He
+had often enough seen his noble patients yawn, as the door was closing
+upon him after a prolonged visit.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not at all,--not at all--wait a moment; I must call the children;
+Gabrielle! Ossi!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The young people appeared from the garden-room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah--it is the friend who saved my life,&quot; Gabrielle exclaimed,
+cordially extending her hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald too greeted him kindly, but suddenly he, as well as the old
+physician became slightly embarrassed--each remembered the unpleasant
+scene in the inn.--The conversation did not flow very freely.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now, I really must go,&quot; the doctor insisted in some confusion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come soon again,&quot; said Truyn, shaking hands with him, &quot;give my
+remembrance to Fritz, and--er--tell him to come and see me soon.&quot; He
+walked towards the court-yard with the old man, and when he returned he
+observed that Oswald, as he was silently rolling up a cigarette, was
+frowning furiously, evidently angry.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where does the shoe pinch, Ossi?&quot; he asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot understand, uncle, how you can be so hard upon Fritz!&quot;
+exclaimed Oswald throwing away his cigarette. &quot;You are wont to be the
+softest-hearted of men, but to that poor devil ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't excite yourself so terribly,&quot; Truyn said kindly, but in some
+surprise at the young man's violence. How could he divine the
+disturbance of mind that was at the root of his indignation? &quot;You are
+so irritable ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am perfectly calm,&quot; Oswald boldly asserted, &quot;only .... how could you
+send messages to Fritz by the doctor, and ask him to come to you? Have
+you no idea of his miserably sore state of mind?--and physically too he
+is so wretched that he cannot last six months longer; I have begged you
+to go and see him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Papa! If Ossi begs you!&quot; Gabrielle whispered, looking up at her father
+with the large pleading eyes of a child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, you can't understand how any one can possibly refuse Ossi
+anything,&quot; Truyn said, smiling in the midst of his annoyance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She blushed and cast down her eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What can you find to like in this fellow, Ella?&quot; her father rallied
+her. &quot;A man ready to take fire, and clinch his fist upon the smallest
+provocation. What would you say if I should put my veto upon this
+foolish betrothal with a young savage who is only half-responsible?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gabrielle's blush grew deeper, she looked alternately at her father and
+at her lover, and finally deciding in favour of the latter gently laid
+her hand upon his arm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You see, uncle!.... completely routed,&quot; exclaimed Oswald, his anger
+entirely dispelled by this little intermezzo. His voice rang with
+exultant happiness as he added, &quot;nothing can part us now, Ella--not
+even a father's veto!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Ella clung silently to his arm and looked blissfully content.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor little comrade!&quot; said Truyn tenderly. Mingled with his emotion
+there was something of the pity which men of ripe years and experience
+always feel at the sight of the perfect happiness of young lovers.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor little comrade!--well, to win back some share of your favour I
+will e'en put a good face upon it and comply with the wishes of your
+tyrant.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How can a respectable household put up with such a servant!&quot; thought
+Truyn, as he waited in the hall of the little Swiss cottage which stood
+between the park at Schneeburg and the vegetable garden, and had been
+appropriated to the son of the late owner of the soil. A slatternly
+woman with a loose linen wrapper hanging about her stout figure had
+come towards him, and after an affirmative reply to his inquiry if the
+Count were at home, screamed shrilly: &quot;Malzin! Some one to see you!&quot;
+and vanished in the interior of the house.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">An unpleasant suspicion assailed Truyn. &quot;Can that be....&quot; The next
+moment all else was forgotten in distress at the changed appearance of
+a fair, pale young man who rushed up to him exclaiming: &quot;Erich!--you
+here!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fritz, Fritz!&quot; said Truyn in a broken voice, fairly clasping his
+unfortunate cousin in his arms.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of all mortals he who has voluntarily resigned the position in which he
+was born is the most embarrassing to deal with. He has by degrees
+broken with his fellows, and, almost like an outcast, seems scarcely to
+know how to comport himself when accident throws him among his former
+associates; when he meets one of 'his people' he usually alternates
+between intrusive familiarity and embittered reserve.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was nothing of all this, however, about Fritz. He was so simple
+and cordial, that Truyn felt ashamed of having avoided a meeting.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fair, with delicate, slightly pinched features, and large melancholy
+gray eyes, exquisitely neat and exact in his apparel, he looked from
+head to foot like a cavalry officer in citizen's dress, and in poor
+circumstances, that is like a man who knew how to invest with a certain
+distinction even the shabbiness to which fate condemned him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You cannot imagine what pleasure your visit gives me! When I see one
+of you it really seems almost as if one of my dear ones had descended
+from heaven to press my hand,&quot; he said with emotion and Truyn replied:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I should have come before, but I expected certainly that
+you .... that ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That I ....&quot; Fritz smiled significantly, &quot;no, Erich, you could
+hardly ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, well, and how are you? How are you?&quot; said Truyn quickly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I still live,&quot; Fritz replied, and looked away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then a voice was heard outside inquiring for &quot;Count Malzin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am not at home, Lotti, do you hear, not at home to any body,&quot; Malzin
+called into the next room. &quot;Come, Erich!&quot; and he conducted his guest
+out of what answered as a drawing-room into a very shabbily-furnished
+apartment which he called his 'den,' and where Truyn at once felt quite
+at home.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That was young Capriani,&quot; Fritz explained hurriedly, &quot;he probably came
+to talk with me about the burial vault. Perhaps you know that my late
+father had the vault reserved for us in the contract for the sale of
+Schneeburg. Capriani, whom usually nothing escapes, oddly enough
+overlooked the fact that the vault is in the park, and now he wants me
+to sell it to him. Let him try it--the vault he shall not have--it is
+the last spot of home that is left to me. I choose at least to lie in
+the grave with my people! But let us talk of something pleasanter. You
+are all well, are you not?--but there is no need to ask, I can see it
+by looking at you. And I know all about your domestic affairs from
+Ossi.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He comes to see you often?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; said Fritz, &quot;and every time with a fresh scheme for my complete
+relief from all difficulties, which he always unfolds with the same
+fervid enthusiasm. The schemes are impracticable, but never mind!
+Existence always seems more tolerable to me while I am talking with
+him, and when he has gone, it is as if a soft spring shower had just
+passed over, purifying and freshening the air. There really is
+something very remarkable about the fellow. With all his fiery energy,
+he is so unutterably tender; ordinarily when a man situated as I am
+comes in contact with such a favorite of fortune, he inevitably feels
+annoyed--it is like a glare of light for weak eyes. But there is
+nothing of the kind with him--he warms without dazzling,--he
+understands how to stoop to misery, without condescending to it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes, he has his good qualities,&quot; Truyn grumbled, &quot;very good
+qualities. But he has stolen from me my little comrade's heart, and I
+cannot say I am greatly pleased.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You do not expect me to pity you on the score of your future
+son-in-law?&quot; said Fritz, laughing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not exactly--if I must have one, then ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then thank God that just these young people have come together,&quot; Fritz
+said in that tone of admonition, which even young men, when forsaken of
+fortune, sometimes adopt towards their happier seniors. &quot;Do you know
+what he has done for me--among other things--just a trifle?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How should I? He certainly would never tell me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course not! We had not seen each other for years, but he came to
+see me as soon as he knew that I was at Schneeburg, and asked me if he
+could do anything for me. I thought it kind, but did not take his words
+seriously and so thanked him and assured him he could do nothing. He
+came again, bringing presents for the children with kind messages from
+his mother, and asked me to dinner. When we retired to the smoking-room
+after that dinner he said to me with the embarrassed manner of a
+generous man, about to confer a benefit: 'Fritz, tell me frankly; does
+no old debt annoy you?' Of course, at first I did not want to confess,
+but at last I admitted that a couple of unliquidated accounts did
+trouble me. An unstained name is a luxury that is the hardest of all to
+forego. He arranged everything, and now I am perfectly free from debt.
+He has such a charming way of giving, as if it were the merest pastime.
+I once asked him how a man as happy as he, found so much time to think
+for others? He answered that happiness was like a rose-bush, the more
+blossoms one gives away, the more it flourishes!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes, he certainly is a fine fellow.--We quarrel sometimes, but he
+is a very fine fellow!&quot; said Truyn, &quot;he suits the child--you must know
+her. And what about your children? Ossi says they are very pretty--you
+have three, have you not?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, only two,&quot; Fritz replied, and his voice trembled as he took a
+little photograph from the wall--&quot;only two; my eldest died. Look at
+him--&quot; handing the picture to Truyn, &quot;he was a pretty child, was he
+not?--my poor little Siegi--but too lovely, too good for the life that
+had fallen to his lot. He is better dead--better!&quot; he uttered in the
+hard tone in which the reason asserts what the heart denies.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From the park the vague, dreamy fragrance of the fading white rocket
+was wafted into the room. The light flickered dimly through the leafy
+screen of the apricot tree before the open window that looked out upon
+the vegetable garden. On Fritz's writing-table the old Empire clock,
+wheezing in its struggle for breath, struck five times. Truyn knew the
+old timepiece well, but formerly it used to swing its pendulum as
+merrily on into eternity as if it expected a fresh delight every hour.
+It seemed as if by this time it had almost lost its voice from grief,
+so asthmatic was the sob with which it counted the seconds. And not
+only with the clock, with everything around him Truyn was familiar. The
+entire shabby apartment betrayed a fanatical worship of the past. The
+chairs were the same monstrosities with lyre-shaped backs and crooked
+legs, which had been wont to endure the angry kicks of the little
+Malzins, when their tutor kept them too long at their lessons. Even the
+pattern of the wall-paper, with its apocryphal birds and butterflies
+among impossible wreaths of flowers, was the same which a travelling
+house-painter had pasted up there thirty years before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But what most struck Truyn, was the decoration on one of the low doors
+in the thick wall--it was marked all over with lines in pencil and
+scribbled names. Upon that door the young Malzins used to record their
+growth from year to year.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pipsi, 14,&quot; he read, &quot;and something over,&quot; &quot;Erich,&quot;--he smiled
+involuntarily, and read on,--&quot;Oscar 12,&quot; and then far below in
+uncertain characters looking as if an elder sister had guided the hand
+of a very little child, &quot;Fritzl.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And through Truyn's memory there sounded the crumpling of copy-book
+leaves--of childrens' voices, of Cramer's Exercises, and of sleepily
+recited Latin verbs. Yes, even the peculiar fragrance of lavender and
+fresh linen, formerly exhaled from the light chintz gown of his pretty
+cousin, came wafting to him over the past.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This is your old school-room!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course it is,&quot; said Fritz, &quot;can you guess whom I have to thank for
+keeping it intact?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The avarice of your principal?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, the delicacy of his wife. Before I moved in here she said to me,
+'my husband wished to have the house put in order for you, Herr Count,
+but I thought that perhaps you liked old associations, and I therefore
+beg you to make only what changes you think best.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A good woman!&quot; Truyn murmured.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then an extraordinary figure entered the room,--the same female
+that Truyn had encountered in the hall, but splendidly transformed,
+tightly laced, with cheeks covered thick with pink powder--Fritz
+Malzin's wife!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very good of you,&quot; she began after Fritz had presented Truyn to her.
+Her voice had the forced sweetness of stage training. &quot;Very good to
+honour our humble dwelling with a visit. May I take the liberty of
+offering you a cup of coffee, that is, Herr Count,&quot; as Truyn evidently
+hesitated, &quot;if you can put up with our simple fare; in the country, you
+know, when one is not prepared ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz pulled his moustache nervously.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Although he had reached the age of gastronomic fastidiousness, and
+especially abhorred spoiling the appetite between meals, Truyn
+good-naturedly accepted this pretentiously humble invitation.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The dining-room, a long narrow apartment with three windows, smelled of
+fresh varnish and fly-poison; the walls were decorated with dusty
+laurel wreaths wound about with ribbons covered with gilt inscriptions,
+and with several photographs of the hostess in tights. The long table
+was loaded with viands. Malzin's children, a girl and a boy,
+respectively five and three years old, shared the meal. They were pale,
+and sickly, but extremely pretty with a wonderfully sympathetic
+expression about the mouth and eyes, reminding one of their father. It
+was easy to see from the shy gentleness of their demeanour that Fritz
+had taken great pains with their training. He exchanged little tender
+jests with his small daughter, but he evidently made a special pet of
+the boy who sat beside him in a high chair, and to whose wants he
+himself ministered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was nothing about Fritz of the amusing awkwardness of
+aristocratic fathers, who now and then in an amiable dilettante fashion
+interest themselves in the care of their offspring. On the contrary it
+was easy to see from the way in which he set the child straight at the
+table, tied on the bib, and put the mug of milk into the little hand,
+that the care of the child was a real occupation of his life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn sat beside his hostess murmuring threadbare compliments, touching
+his lips to his coffee-cup, and crumbling a piece of biscuit on his
+plate.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You do our fare but little honour,&quot; the actress said more than once,
+&quot;try a piece of this cake, Herr Count. Count Capriani who has a French
+cook, and is accustomed to the very best, always commends it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz blushed. &quot;Try this cherry cake,&quot; he said hastily. &quot;Lotti
+makes it herself. She used always to feast me upon it when we were
+betrothed--eh, Lotti?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This cheery reference to her housewifely skill, offended the actress,
+and before Truyn could make some courteous rejoinder she exclaimed,
+flushed with anger, &quot;You know, Herr Count, that where the means are so
+limited the mistress of the house must lend a hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn stammered something and Fritz smiled patiently as he stroked his
+little son's fair curls.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a painfully uncomfortable hour.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn looked from the photographs to the glass fly-traps beneath which
+innumerable flies were lying on their backs, convulsively twitching out
+their lives, and his glance finally rested upon his hostess. She was
+strongly perfumed with musk, and was painted around the eyes. Her stout
+arms were squeezed into sleeves far too tight, and her bust almost met
+her chin. After this keen scrutiny, however, Truyn discovered that she
+was certainly handsome, that her face although disfigured by too full
+lips, was strikingly like that of the capitoline Venus.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The intrusive humility of her manner, seasoned as it was with vulgar
+raillery, was insufferable.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For this woman!&quot; he repeated to himself again and again. &quot;For this
+woman!&quot; His eye fell upon a photograph portraying the Countess as '<i>la
+belle Héléne</i>,' in a costume that displayed her magnificent physique to
+great advantage, and he suddenly remembered that he had seen her in
+that rôle; that her acting was bad; but that she produced a dazzling
+impression on the stage.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you recognize that picture, Herr Count?&quot; she asked suddenly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Instantly,&quot; he assured her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you ever see me play?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I once had that pleasure.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot; A remarkable transformation was immediately manifest, her languid
+air grew animated, thirst for the triumphs of the past glittered in her
+eyes. She moved her chair a little closer to Truyn and coquettishly
+leaning her head upon her hand whispered, &quot;Were you one of my adorers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz frowned and glanced angrily towards her, twisting his napkin
+nervously.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His attention was suddenly distracted however, by the noise of the
+blows of an axe resounding slowly and monotonously through the heavy
+summer air. Fritz changed colour, sprang up and hurried to the window.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter?&quot; the actress asked him negligently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;They are cutting down the old beech,&quot; he said slowly, turning not to
+her, but to Truyn.--&quot;The Friedrichs-beech; planted by one of our
+ancestors, Joachim Malzin, with his own hands after the liberation of
+Vienna; we children all cut our names upon it. Don't you remember how
+Madame Lenoir scolded us for it, and declared that it was not <i>comme il
+faut</i>, but a pastime befitting prentice boys only? Good Heavens--how
+long ago that is!--and now they are cutting it down. Capriani insists
+that it interferes with his view.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If one could only help him!--but there is nothing to be
+done--absolutely nothing!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thus Truyn reflected, as distressed and compassionate, he rode home on
+his sleek cob, followed by his trim English groom.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There are many varieties of compassion not at all painful, which, when
+well-seasoned with a charming consciousness of virtue, may serve
+sensitive souls as a tolerable amusement. There is, for example, an
+artistically contemplative compassion that, with hands thrust
+comfortably in pockets, looks on at some melancholy affair as at the
+fifth act of a tragedy, without experiencing the faintest call to
+recognize its existence except by heaving sundry sentimental sighs.
+Then there is a self-contemplative compassion which, quite as inactive
+as the artistically contemplative, culminates in the satisfactory
+consciousness of the comparative comfort of one's own condition; then a
+decorative compassion, which is displayed merely as a mental adornment
+upon solemn occasions when the man marches forth clad in full-dress
+moral uniform.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But there is one compassion which is among the most painful sensations
+that can assail a delicate-minded human being--a compassion, always
+united to the most earnest desire to aid, to console, and yet which
+knows itself powerless in presence of the suffering; that longs for
+nothing in the world more ardently than to aid that which it cannot
+aid! And this it was that oppressed Truyn, as he rode home from
+Schneeburg,--this vain compassion lying like a cold, hard stone upon
+his warm, kind heart!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If one could only help him, could but make life at least tolerable for
+him,--poor Fritz, poor fellow!&quot; he muttered again and again.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The tall poplars, standing like a long row of gigantic exclamation
+points on the side of the road, cast strips of dark shade upon the
+light, dusty soil. The crickets were chirping in the hedges; in the
+wheat-fields to the right and left the ears nodded gently and gravely;
+red poppies and blue cornflowers--useless, picturesque gipsy-folk,
+amidst the ripening harvest--laughed at their feet. The clover-fields
+had passed their prime,--they were brown and a faint odour of faded
+flowers floated aloft from them. The transparent veil of early twilight
+obscured the light and dimmed the shadows.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">How thoroughly Truyn knew the road! The inmates of Schneeburg and
+Rautschin had formerly been good neighbours.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A throng of laughing, beckoning phantoms glided through his mind. Out
+of the blue mist of the morning of his life, now so far behind him,
+there emerged a slender, girlish figure with long, black braids, and a
+downy, peach-like face--dark-eyed Pipsi, for whom Erich, then an
+enthusiast of sixteen, copied poems--and a second phantom came with
+her, merry-hearted Tilda, who with the pert insolence of her thirteen
+years used to laugh so mercilessly at the sentimental pair of lovers;
+and Hugo, a rather awkward boy, always at odds with his tutor and his
+Greek grammar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Where were they all? Hugo went into the army, and was killed in a duel;
+dark-eyed Pepsi married in Hungary, and died at the birth of her first
+child; Tilda married a Spanish diplomatist--Truyn had heard nothing of
+her for years;--not one of the Malzins was left in their native
+land, save Fritz, who at the time of Truyn's lyric enthusiasm was a
+curly-headed, babbling baby, before whose dimples the entire family
+were on their knees, and who of his bounty dispensed kisses among them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn's thoughts wandered on--he recalled Fritz as an dashing officer
+of Hussars. He was one of the handsomest men in the army, fair, with a
+sunny smile and the proverbial Malzin conscientiousness in his earnest
+eyes, very fastidious in his pleasures, almost dandified in his dress;
+spoiled by women of fashion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who would have thought it!&quot; Truyn repeated to himself, as he gazed
+reflectively between his horse's ears. Suddenly he became aware of a
+cloud of dust,--and of a delightful sensation warming his heart. He
+perceived Zinka and Gabrielle sitting in a low pony-wagon, and behind
+them in the footman's seat was Oswald. Zinka was driving, being the
+butt of much laughing criticism from the other two. How pleased Truyn
+was with the picture, and how often was he destined to recall it, the
+fair, lovely heads of the two women, the dark, handsome young fellow,
+who understood so well how to combine a merry familiarity with the most
+delicate courtesy! How happy they all looked!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are late, papa!&quot; Gabrielle called out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have I offended you again, comrade?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But papa--!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I was beginning to be a little anxious,&quot; said Zinka, &quot;Ossi laughed at
+me, and said I was like his mother, who if he is half an hour late in
+returning home from a ride always imagines that he has been thrown and
+killed on the road, and that the only reason the groom does not make
+his appearance, is because he has not the courage to tell the sad
+tidings.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald laughed. &quot;Yes, my mother's fancy runs riot in such images,
+sometimes,&quot; he admitted, stretching out his hand for the reins, that he
+might help Zinka to turn round. &quot;And how is poor Fritz?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wretched--such misery is enough to break one's heart--and no getting
+rid of it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you are no longer angry with him?&quot; Oswald asked with a touch of
+good-humoured triumph.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Heaven forbid! but--,&quot; Truyn rubbed his forehead--&quot;Oh, that
+stock-jobber--that phylloxera!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then there appeared in the road an aged man, spare of habit and
+somewhat bent, but walking briskly; his features were sharp but not
+unpleasant, his arms were long, and his old-fashioned coat fluttered
+about his legs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good-day, Herr Stern,&quot; Oswald called out to him in response to his
+bow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn doffed his hat and bowed low on his horse's neck.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who is it whom you hold worthy of so profound a bow, papa?&quot; Gabrielle
+asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Rabbi von Selz,&quot; Truyn made answer, &quot;in times like these such people
+should be treated with special respect, if only for the sake of the
+lower classes who always regulate their conduct somewhat by ours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oho, uncle, your bow was a political demonstration, then,&quot; Oswald
+remarked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To a certain degree,&quot; Truyn replied, &quot;but Stern is, moreover, a very
+distinguished man.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He is indeed,&quot; Oswald affirmed, &quot;he is a particular friend of mine--if
+any one among the people about here maltreats him, he always applies to
+me. Poor devil! The Jews are a very strange folk. I always divide them
+into two families, one related directly to Christ, the other to Judas
+Iscariot. Poesy, the Seer, has produced two immortal types of these
+families, Nathan and Shylock.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Aha, Ella, I hope you are duly impressed by your lover, he really
+talks like a book,&quot; Truyn rallied his daughter who, her fair head
+slightly bent backward, was looking over her shoulder at Oswald, with
+rapt admiration in her large eyes. &quot;I invited Fritz to dine with you,
+comrade, the day after to-morrow. He is almost as madly enthusiastic
+about your betrothed as you are yourself, and you can sing your
+Laudamus together.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There is nothing to be done with the fellow.--I never encountered such
+weakness of mind,&quot; exclaimed Capriani to his wife.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The hour was three, and just before dinner; in accordance with Austrian
+custom, or rather with the national bad habit, they dined at Schneeburg
+at half-past three, although the whole family, especially those of the
+second generation, accustomed to late foreign hours, found this earlier
+hour very inconvenient.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of whom are you talking?&quot; Madame Capriani asked in her depressed
+tone; she was sitting erect upon a small gilt chair, she wore a gray,
+silk-muslin gown, rather over-trimmed, <i>gants de Suéde</i>, and an air of
+constraint.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of whom are you talking?&quot; she asked a second time, smoothing her
+gloves.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of whom?--of that blockhead, Malzin,&quot; growled Capriani.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I told you from the first that he would never be able to fill that
+position,&quot; his wife rejoined.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fill--!&quot; Capriani shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, &quot;fill--! it
+takes him two hours to write a business-letter. But I was prepared
+for that. His office is a sinecure; the salary that I pay him is an
+alms,--but Alfred Capriani can do as he pleases there,--and at least
+the fellow understands something about horses. What outrages me is to
+see how he squanders my money, the money that I give him. He ransacks
+the country round to buy back from the peasants relics of his parents.
+First an old clock, that struck twelve just as he was born, then an old
+piano, upon which his sisters used to strum the scales. 'Tis enough to
+drive one mad!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Frau von Capriani looked distressed. &quot;That is a matter of sentiment,&quot;
+she suggested.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A matter of sentiment--a matter of sentiment,&quot; Capriani repeated
+sarcastically. &quot;It would be a matter of sentiment and conscience to
+think of saving up something for his children.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are right, you are right,&quot; the Countess rejoined, in her emphatic
+yet not unmelodious Russian-German, &quot;but this time you are in some
+measure to blame for his folly. I begged you a hundred times to ask him
+what he would like to keep for himself of the furniture which was
+entirely useless to us. Instead, you had it all put up at auction.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And the proceeds of the sale are to be devoted to the building of a
+new school, to be entirely independent of ecclesiastical influence,&quot;
+said Capriani, &quot;the old rubbish shall aid, willy-nilly, in the spread
+of modern liberal ideas. It is my aim to root out prejudices not to
+foster them. Would you have me minister directly to Malzin's folly? It
+would be nonsense. It makes me shudder to see this man, who owns
+nothing, positively nothing, except what I give him out of sheer
+kindness, and who ought to look ahead, keeping his eyes fixed upon the
+past, and sentimentally collecting empty bon-bon boxes, the contents of
+which his forefathers have devoured to the last crumb. He is the
+personification of the invincible narrowness of his class.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He is a good honest man,&quot; the Contessa said gently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Honest,--honest!&quot; Capriani repeated impatiently, &quot;a man whose desires
+have been anticipated from his childhood, upon whose plate the
+pheasants have always fallen ready trussed and roasted, would naturally
+not contemplate picking pockets. To be sure, he might be tempted to try
+it, but he can't do it--he is too unpractical to be dishonest. There is
+nothing praiseworthy in that, for all the honesty that you ascribe to
+him he is a thorough selfish egotist; without the smallest scruple he
+robs his own children of thousands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Malzin!&quot; Frau von Capriani exclaimed, &quot;why he would let his ears be
+cut off for his children, and if he refused to lose his hands too, it
+would only be because he needed them to work for his family.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To work!&quot; rejoined Capriani ironically. &quot;If he would only sacrifice
+for their sakes his miserable pride of rank he could do far more for
+them than by his work! He--and work! Do you know what reply he made to
+my splendid offer for his family vault? 'The vault is not for sale, it
+is the only spot of home that is left me. I will at least lie among my
+people when I am dead!' Can you conceive of greater insolence?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Insolence--poor Malzin--he is as modest....!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Modest!&quot; sneered Capriani, interrupting her, &quot;he is fairly bristling
+with arrogance. A starving pauper, living on my bounty, and all the
+while thinking himself superior to all of us. Intercourse with us is
+not at all to his taste.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He is always exquisitely courteous to me. I like him very much,&quot; Frau
+von Capriani declared. Her husband's constant attacks upon Malzin were
+beyond measure painful to her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Men of his stamp are always gracious to ladies,&quot; snarled Capriani.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Meanwhile his two children had entered the room, Arthur and Ad'lin,
+both in faultless toilettes, and both out of humour. The self-same
+weariness weighs upon both, the weariness of idlers who do not know how
+to squander time gracefully. Perhaps Georges Lodrin is not far wrong
+when he maintains that to idle away life gracefully is an art most
+difficult to acquire, and rarely learned in a single generation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Both asked fretfully whether the post had come, and then each sank into
+an arm-chair and fumed. One by one the various guests then staying in
+the castle appeared. Paul Angelico Orchis, a conceited little
+versifier, (lauded in the Blanktown Gazette as 'the first lyric poet of
+modern times') and the possessor of a dyspepsia acquired at the expense
+of others. A farce by him had been produced in Blanktown, and for ten
+years he had been promising the public a tragedy. Meanwhile his latest
+effort was the invention of a picturesque waterproof cloak. Frank, the
+famous tailor carried out his idea in dark brown tweed, in which the
+poet draped himself upon every conceivable occasion. After him followed
+two men of the kind which Georges Lodrin describes as 'gentlemen at
+reduced prices,' stunted specimens of the aristocracy, who played a
+very insignificant part in their own circles, and from time to time
+fled to their inferiors in rank to enjoy a little admiration. One,
+Baron Kilary, is a sportsman, insolent in bearing, lewd in talk; the
+other, Count Fermor, is a dilettante composer and pianist, affected and
+sentimental.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Malzin and his wife also entered; while he bowed silently, and then
+respectfully kissed the hand of the hostess, Charlotte congratulated
+the two ladies upon the splendour of their attire, and lavished
+exaggerated admiration upon a couple of costly pieces of furniture
+which she had often seen before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Last of all appeared our old acquaintance, the Baroness Melkweyser, who
+had been at Schneeburg for a week. What was she doing there? The
+Caprianis looked to her for their admission into Austrian society,
+she looked to King Midas for the augmentation of her diminished
+income,--and something too might be gained from country air and regular
+meals for her worn and weary digestion.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">It is really melancholy for people who have been accustomed in Paris to
+entertain crowned heads, to be obliged in Austria to put up with a few
+sickly sprigs of nobility.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Menu was very elaborate; the clumsy table service came from
+<i>Froment-Munice</i> and the china was Sèvres
+of the latest pattern, white,
+with a coronet and cipher in gilt; the butler looked like a cabinet
+minister, and the silk stockings of the flunkies were faultless.
+Nevertheless the entire dinner produced a sham, masquerading effect,
+reminding one more or less of a stage banquet when all the viands are
+of papier-maché.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The hostess, with Baron Kilary on her right, and Fritz Malzin on her
+left, devoted herself almost exclusively to the latter, asking him
+kindly questions about his children.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The host, seated between the Baroness Melkweyser, and the Countess
+Malzin, contented himself with seeing that the actress's plate was kept
+well supplied, and with exchanging jests with her which were merely
+silly during soup, but which grew more objectionable at dessert.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Baroness Melkweyser studied the Menu, Paul Angelico Orchis
+complained of his dyspepsia and asked advice of his neighbour, Ad'lin
+Capriani, as to his diet. Moreover he testified his gratitude for
+Capriani's hospitality by praising everything enthusiastically. He
+remarked that he had visited Schneeburg formerly, but that he should
+hardly have recognised the castle again, absolutely hardly have
+recognised it, it was so wonderfully improved, he could not see how
+Count Capriani could have effected so much in so short a time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whereupon the master of the mansion replied with aristocratic
+nonchalance: &quot;The place had to be made habitable, but there's not much
+that can be done with it, it is nothing but an old barracks, an
+inconvenient old barracks.&quot; He then held forth at length upon the
+improvements which he still contemplated, concluding with, &quot;But I have
+no room--the Schneeburg domain is so contracted, so insignificant!
+Unfortunately all the estates which would serve my purpose are owned by
+people unwilling to sell.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Madame Capriani tried several times unsuccessfully to check her
+husband, and Fritz looked gloomily down into his empty plate.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had always been so proud of his Schneeburg, and that it should not
+be good enough for this swindler, forsooth!----</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fermor looked discontented, and talked to Adeline about his
+compositions, betraying at every word the sentimental arrogance of a
+narrow-minded, lackadaisical, provincial aristocrat, greedy for
+adulation, and salving his conscience for his new associations, by
+making himself as disagreeable as possible to the people whose bread he
+eats.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Malzin, albeit in a subordinate position, manifested from habit the
+instinctive reserve of a true gentleman, fearful of wounding the
+susceptibilities of his inferiors. The conduct of his fellows was in
+striking contrast to his own. Fermor ignored him. Kilary on the
+contrary continually tried to draw him into familiar talk upon subjects
+of which none of the others knew anything, a course evidently
+irritating to the host.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Malzin was, moreover, the only one at table towards whom Kilary
+conducted himself courteously. To the poet he was especially insolent.
+At dessert he read aloud with sentimental emphasis a couple of
+bonbon-mottoes, and then asked, &quot;My dear Orchis, are these immortal
+lines your own?&quot; at which the poet vainly tried to smile. The rumour
+ran that when his finances were at a low ebb he did sometimes place his
+genius at the disposal of a Vienna confectioner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After dinner the gentlemen retired to the smoking-room to smoke, the
+ladies to the drawing-room to yawn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot cease looking at you, this evening, Comtesse,&quot; Charlotte
+Malzin exclaimed, seating herself on a sofa beside the daughter of the
+house, &quot;your gown is enchanting.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very much too picturesque for this part of the world, they can't
+appreciate these contrasts of colour in this barbarous country,&quot; Ad'lin
+said crossly, as she was wont to receive the actress's advances. &quot;They
+are far behind the age in Austria! <i>Dieu, qui l'Autriche m'ennuie!</i>&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The actress fell silent, in some confusion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What had the poet to say to you, Ad'lin?&quot; asked the Baroness
+Melkweyser, after she had inspected through her eye-glass each piece of
+furniture in turn in the drawing-room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That he could not digest truffles, and that he means to dedicate his
+next work to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! the first item is highly interesting, and the last uncommonly
+flattering,&quot; the Melkweyser rejoined.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, it means that I must order at least fifty copies of the
+interesting effusion,&quot; Ad'lin said fretfully, adding with a half smile,
+&quot;People in our position have to encourage literature--<i>noblesse
+oblige</i>!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Baroness bit her lip and resumed her voyage of discovery, turning
+to a cabinet filled with antique porcelain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You really cannot think,&quot; Ad'lin began, leaving her sofa to join her
+friend, &quot;how I have longed for you! You are the only link here in
+Austria between ourselves and civilization. I depend upon your forming
+an agreeable circle for us here.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was noteworthy that since Zoë's return to her native land, Adeline's
+familiarity had seemed far less acceptable to her than it had been in
+Paris. &quot;An agreeable circle!&quot; she exclaimed, &quot;that is easily said,
+but you make it very hard for me. You do not want to know our
+financiers ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Austrian financiers have no position; even the Rothschilds are not
+received at Court.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And the Austrian aristocracy is excessively exclusive on its own
+soil--!&quot; said Zoë.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah that exclusiveness is a <i>fable convenue</i>,&quot; Ad'lin insisted, &quot;I am
+convinced that if Austrian society knew us ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Instead of replying, the Melkweyser directed her eye-glass towards the
+porcelain on the shelves of the cabinet. &quot;That is the Malzin old-Vienna
+tea-service.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, but it cannot be used--it is not complete.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know it, Wjera Zinsenburg has the other half.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If it would give the Countess the slightest pleasure to complete the
+set, I should be perfectly ready to place this half at her disposal!&quot;
+Capriani's voice was heard to say.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The gentlemen had left their cigars and had come to the drawing-room
+for their coffee. Fermor who was too nervous to allow himself the
+indulgence of a cup of Mocha, sat down at the piano, and began to
+prelude in an affected manner.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Leaning in a languishing attitude against the raised cover of the
+piano, Ad'lin murmured, &quot;No one but you invents such modulations. You
+ought to indulge me with a grand composition, Count; have you never
+completed one?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am busy now with a work of some scope for a grand orchestra,&quot; Fermor
+lisped, dabbing his limp, bloodless hands upon the keyboard like a
+nervous kangaroo.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah! A sonata?--An opera?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, a requiem; that is a kind of requiem--more correctly a morning
+impromptu, the last thoughts of a dying poacher.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh how interesting! Pray let me hear it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is a rather complicated piece of music, Fräulein Capriani,&quot; Fermor
+always ignores the Capriani patent of nobility--&quot;if you are not
+especially fond of our German classic masters ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I adore Wagner and Beethoven.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then, indeed, I will .... but the harmony is very complicated!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whereupon he began, with closed eyes, after the fashion of pretentious
+dilettanti, to deliver himself of a piece of music, the beginning of
+which reminded one of a piano-tuner, and the intermediate portion of
+the triumphal march of an operetta, and which, after it had lasted half
+an hour, and the audience had given up all hope of relief, suddenly,
+and without any apparent reason stopped short, a common termination
+where there has been no reason for beginning.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>C'est divin!</i>&quot; Ad'lin exclaimed. &quot;Your composition, Count, reminds me
+of the intermezzo of the Fifth symphony.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are mistaken, Fräulein Capriani, my composition recalls no other
+music!&quot; Fermor said, greatly irritated.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With his eyes glowing, his full red underlip trembling, and his manner
+insolently obtrusive, Capriani threw himself down beside Charlotte
+Malzin upon the sofa and stretched his arm along the back of it behind
+her shoulders.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come and help me with my work, Count Malzin,&quot; Frau von Capriani called
+kindly from her pile of cretonne. &quot;You have so steady a hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And while Fritz took his place beside her, and began to cut a bird of
+Paradise out of the stuff with great precision, Kilary took Arthur by
+the buttonhole and said, &quot;You ought to know all about it young man, how
+must one begin who wants to grow rich?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You must ask my father,&quot; Arthur replied insolently. &quot;All that I
+understand of financial matters is, how to make debts.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A servant brought in the letters and papers upon a silver salver.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whilst Arthur opened a dozen begging letters, and tossed them aside,
+ironically remarking, &quot;Three impoverished Countesses--two Barons--a
+captain ...&quot; and whilst Ad'lin hailed with enthusiasm two letters from
+a couple of French duchesses whom she counted among her friends, the
+Conte hurriedly ran his eye over an unpretending epistle which he had
+instantly opened. His hands trembled, a strange greed shone in his
+eyes, and quivered about his lips. Quite pale, as one is apt to be
+in a moment of victory he paced the room to and fro once or twice
+and then stepping directly up to Malzin he exclaimed, &quot;What do you
+think--coal--! Schneeburg is a coal-bed. Extraordinary! Your father
+tried after madder, and I--have found coal!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Malzin shuddered slightly, but merely said, &quot;I congratulate you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Malzin would never have forgiven himself if your bargain had turned
+out a poor one,&quot; sneered Kilary.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was something in his irony that irritated Capriani, a rebellion
+of caste against the autocracy of money, which he chose to punish. As
+he was powerless with Kilary he turned to Malzin and said in a tone of
+insolent authority, &quot;Malzin, get me the map of Bohemia that lies on my
+writing-table.&quot; At a moment like this the thin varnish of refinement
+which contact with the world had imparted was rubbed off entirely, he
+showed himself in all his coarseness, and this not through any
+recklessness, but intentionally, in the consciousness that he, Alfred
+Capriani might do as he chose. At a moment like this he delighted in
+treading beneath his feet all who did not prostrate themselves before
+his millions.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Malzin had attained a height where such insults did not reach him. But
+the blood mounted to the cheek of the mistress of the mansion. &quot;Arthur,
+go and get the map!&quot; she said gently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz languidly prevented him. &quot;You do not know where the thing is,&quot; he
+said good-humouredly and left the room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Capriani went on pacing the spacious apartment in long strides. &quot;They
+are all alike, these blockheads,&quot; he muttered, &quot;when they take it into
+their heads to work they are more stupid than ever. Old Malzin tried
+everything; he ruined himself in artificial madder-red, in lager beer,
+in sugar and in stocks,--and it never occurred to him that millions
+were lying in the ground beneath his feet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Malzin returned with the map and as every table was overcrowded with
+bibelots and jardinières, it was spread out upon the piano. Capriani
+eagerly travelled over it with his pudgy forefinger. &quot;The track of the
+new railway must go here, between the iron works and Schneeburg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then it must go a very long round,&quot; Arthur remarked, &quot;can you obtain
+the permit?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Capriani stuck a thumb in an arm-hole of his waistcoat and smiled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Malzin, you know the estates around here; to whom does that belong?&quot;
+pointing to a spot upon the map.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That belongs to Kamenz,&quot; said Malzin bending forward, and fitting his
+eye-glass in his eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To Lodrin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then it comes to whether the interests of these gentlemen jump with
+your own,&quot; Arthur observed. &quot;If they should work against you, you never
+can obtain the permit.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pshaw! I understand tolerably well how to deal with these gentlemen.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Kamenz will give you no trouble, he is up to his neck in
+embarrassments, and would be glad to dispose advantageously of a piece
+of his land,&quot; drawled Kilary, looking at the map and giving his opinion
+with lazy assurance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lodrin's affairs cannot be in a very brilliant condition,&quot; Arthur
+remarked; &quot;ever since his majority he has been making no end of
+improvements, and he is hard up financially.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;With such an enormous property as the Lodrin estate there can be none
+save temporary embarrassments,&quot; Kilary said drily, &quot;and in no case
+would Lodrin allow himself to be influenced by personal considerations.
+If you cannot demonstrate to him that the new railway will conduce to
+the universal benefit of the whole country he never will agree to it,
+and unless he does you can do nothing with the present ministry. A
+comical fellow Lodrin--a perfect pedant in some ways.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said Malzin, &quot;not the least of a pedant, but a hot head with a
+heart of gold, and when duty is concerned, he is just like his father.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The old idiot,&quot; Capriani muttered below his breath, slowly as, with an
+air that was almost tender he stroked his long whiskers, while an odd
+smile played about his lips. &quot;In fact you are right, Malzin,--a
+charming fellow, Ossi--a superb creature; not one of your Austrian
+nobility can hold a candle to him. But I--you'll see, Malzin,--I'll
+twist Ossi Lodrin around my thumb.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Half an hour afterwards the guests separated. Frau von Capriani, more
+depressed than usual, retired to her room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The gentlemen went to the garden, and shot at a target; Conte Capriani,
+who never could bring down a pheasant on the wing, proved more
+successful than any of the others in hitting the bull's-eye.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When the Melkweyser, who had been indulging in a short nap, entered the
+library half an hour afterwards to look for a 'sanitary novel' she
+found Ad'lin deep in the study of a small thick volume.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Zoë looked over her shoulder; the book was the 'Gotha Almanach,' the
+Bradshaw of the Austrian aristocracy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are you looking for?&quot; the Baroness asked.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For the Fermors--I want to know who the Count's mother was. She is not
+in this year's list. She was a Princess Brack, was she not?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, his mother was a Fräulein Schmitt, the daughter of a rich
+tavern-keeper.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The Malzins walked home through the park. Fritz looked perturbed. His
+wife held her head high, and in no agreeable mood chewed at the stalk
+of a rose which the Conte had cut for her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Lotti,&quot; Fritz began after a while, &quot;I know that you act without
+reflection; you were a little imprudent to-day; it would be of no
+consequence with a man of breeding, but from a man like Capriani a lady
+must not allow the least familiarity.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You always find something to lecture me about,&quot; she replied sharply.
+&quot;I have long known that I am not good enough for you. But I must
+confess that I have never observed that the ladies of your circle are
+more reserved than those of mine.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You know none of them,&quot; Fritz rejoined with incautious haste.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You certainly have afforded me no opportunity of knowing them,&quot;
+Charlotte retorted, reddening with anger, &quot;although you probably would
+have done so, had you not been ashamed of me from the first. Count
+Truyn has managed to give his wife a position,--but you--you would
+rather have died than have stirred a finger for me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was not literally true, for Fritz had once knocked off the hat of
+an acquaintance who had forgotten to remove it in Charlotte's presence;
+on one occasion he had fought a duel on her account, and on another had
+horsewhipped a slandering editor, but it was substantially true that he
+had made not the smallest effort to introduce her to his world. He made
+no reply now to her reproaches, hung his head, and pulled at his
+moustache. She went on with angry volubility. &quot;You were ashamed to walk
+in the street with me, and when you took me to the theatre you always
+hid yourself in the back of the box, and every day you had some fault
+to find with my ways. I have watched your aristocratic ladies at the
+races, at the theatre, and at artist's festivals--and their manners are
+as free--and it must out--as ill-bred ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The ill-breeding of a lady of rank,&quot; Fritz interrupted her impatiently
+&quot;extends usually only as far as the good-breeding of the man with whom
+she chances to be.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I don't know what you mean,&quot; the opera-bouffe singer replied.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Our ladies know that the men whom they honour with their gay talk
+recognise their little whims, and merry extravagances as tokens of
+confidence which they would never dream of abusing. We never allow
+ourselves to step beyond the line which the lady herself draws.
+Familiarities like those which Capriani allowed himself toward you
+to-day are impossible among people of refinement. Of course from him
+nothing better can be expected; low fellow that he is!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you are his hired servant,&quot; said Charlotte.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes!&quot; he replied, &quot;I am his servant; it is my duty to select his
+horses and to write his letters, but I am not obliged to dine with him;
+that is not in the contract. And from this time I shall accept no more
+of his invitations. I will not expose myself a second time to the
+annoyance to which you and he subjected me to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Charlotte began to cry. &quot;You are cruel to me--and rough,&quot; she sobbed.
+&quot;I have put up with poverty for your sake, sacrificed a brilliant
+career to my love for you----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes--yes, I know--I know--I am very sorry for you--but what can I do?&quot;
+said Fritz.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The only pleasure I can enjoy, you want to deprive me of, when I look
+forward to it from Sunday to Sunday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You enjoy it?--What, for Heaven's sake do you enjoy about it?&quot; asked
+Fritz, to whom everything at these Sunday dinners was an offence,
+except the gentle eyes and soft voice of the hostess.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I enjoy mingling at last in fine society,&quot; she said stubbornly, and as
+he only stared at her in silence, she went on, &quot;I know that you despise
+modern fine folk. But my views are broader and freer, and I have no
+feeling for aristocratic chimeras!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She had indeed no feeling for chimeras with or without the adjective,
+no feeling for moral and social subtleties, no feeling for honourable
+traditional superstitions, for fine inherited weaknesses and illusions,
+no feeling for all that constitute the moral supports of a caste,
+although they cannot be expressed in words or grasped with the hand.
+How could this woman comprehend Fritz, Fritz who had grown up with
+chimeras, who had made playmates of them in the nursery?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He shrugged his shoulders and was silent. Just then the wailing of a
+weak childish voice fell upon the warm evening air. Fritz hurried
+forward; in front of the small arbour, with his little son in her lap,
+sat an old woman; it was old Miller, his nurse in childhood, who had at
+last found an asylum in a corner of his house. &quot;The little fellow is
+crying for his father,&quot; she said while the boy smiling through his
+tears stretched out his tiny arms. &quot;The Herr Count ought not to spoil
+him so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never mind that, Miller,&quot; Fritz said taking the child in his arms.
+&quot;Oh, my pale darling, what should we do without each other, hey?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fifteen minutes afterwards Fritz was sitting on the edge of a small bed
+on which his boy was kneeling with folded hands, looking in his snowy
+night-gown, that fell in straight folds about him, like a veritable
+Luca della Robbia.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come, Franzi, have you forgotten your prayer?&quot;</p>
+<div class="poem">
+<p class="t2" style="text-indent:-6px">
+&quot;In my small bed I lay me here,<br>
+I pray Thee dearest Lord be near,<br>
+About me clasp Thy loving arm,<br>
+And shelter me and keep me warm.&quot;</p>
+</div>
+
+<p class="continue">the child murmured sleepily, then offered his lips to his father and
+lay down.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a childish prayer--but Fritz learned it at his mother's knee
+from her dear lips--reason enough for teaching it to his son.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And until the little man fell asleep, his hand under his cheek, Fritz
+still sat on the edge of the bed and dreamed.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Yes, of a truth, Fritz had grown up with chimeras; they had been his
+playmates, born and bred and domesticated in Schneeburg.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To them it was due that Fritz had married a second-rate actress; that
+Fritz, under all the most distressing circumstances, had still suffered
+from homesickness, and had taken refuge 'at home;' that he had always
+possessed a character not merely respectable, but thoroughly noble;
+never forfeiting the esteem of his equals although stricken from their
+visiting lists; and that, when in fulness of time he should make ready
+for the final journey, he might boldly face these very chimeras and
+say: &quot;Often have I sinned against myself, and my own best happiness,
+but never, never against you; come therefore and help me to die.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His father was a gentleman, a philosopher, a freethinker,--a visionary,
+if you will. He raved about the new gospel of 1789, as one raves about
+an exotic flower, because of its unparalleled oddity, and from the
+conviction that it never can endure our climate. He had all kinds of
+bourgeois intimates and the &quot;Contrat social&quot; was his favourite book.
+But when his son, not from blind passion, but to satisfy conscientious
+scruples, married an actress, he was beside himself. When Fritz, not
+without a hint as to the circumstances that had led him to the fatal
+step, announced his marriage, his letter was sent by the old Count to
+his lawyer to answer. He himself refused any further intercourse with
+his son.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had Fritz's mother been living, all might perhaps have been different.
+His wife would have been personally more distasteful to her than to his
+father, the fact of the connection would have seemed to her more
+miserable than to the old Count; but compassion for her child would
+have triumphed finally over every other consideration, her heart
+might have bled, but she would have taken home the distasteful
+daughter-in-law, and have tried to educate her for her position. At all
+events she would have known that when a man has trifled away 'the
+world,' his own home is his true place of refuge.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To all this the old Count gave never a thought, although he was
+kind-hearted, and Fritz had always been avowedly his favourite. He saw
+nothing but the misery and degradation of it all; his heart was
+benumbed by anger. All that was bestowed upon Fritz when he married,
+was his father's curse, the property which he inherited from his
+mother, and his share of what had belonged to an elder brother who had
+died. Although he had from the outset belonged among the &quot;<i>forçats du
+mariage</i>,&quot; he did not for some time feel the burden of his chain and of
+the enforced companionship. Of an intensely sanguine temperament he had
+a positive genius for looking on the bright side of life. What annoyed
+him most at first was being obliged, on account of his marriage, to
+quit the service. He was terribly bored by having to spend the entire
+day without his comrades or his horses. His yearly income at this time
+amounted to the modest sum of six thousand gulden. After he had made
+out a list of necessary expenses,--that is, added up certain figures
+upon a visiting card with a gold pencil, he came to the conclusion,
+with a shrug, that a married man could not possibly live upon six
+thousand gulden a year, and that therefore, under the circumstances, he
+might allow himself the privilege of contracting debts.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course he would have thought it niggardly to save up anything while
+in the army; yet he had never been extravagant, he had always at the
+end of the month had something left over with which to help out a
+comrade.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He hoped to be able to curtail his household expenses; but there were
+so many things that no respectable man 'could go without,' and still
+more, which his wife could not deny herself.--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Fritz was quite a little boy, his father had often admonished him
+as to the serious nature of life, and had impressed him as a younger
+son with the necessity of restricting his needs as much as possible,
+and even of earning his own living. His narrow circumstances in the
+future, had occupied the boy's mind, and one day he opened his heart to
+his sister's governess, at that time his confidante. He said to her,
+&quot;Madame! Papa yesterday told of a contractor who employed people for
+fifty kreutzers a day.--Is that fair?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly, <i>mon bijou</i>. Why do you ask?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The boy looked very important, and began to reckon on his small
+fingers, &quot;Fifty kreutzers a day--hm--that makes five gulden for ten
+persons--if I marry, and my wife keeps a maid, and I a man--and if we
+have six children beside--five gulden a day--I can afford that at
+least.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At twenty-six years of age Fritz's ideas with regard to economy were
+not much more practical. A household with neither man-servant nor
+maid-servant did not come within his range of possibilities.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He spent a couple of weeks with his young wife at the Hotel Munsch; a
+hostelry now out of fashion, but having for generations enjoyed the
+patronage of the Malzin family, and after that he hired a pretty suite
+of second-story rooms in a retired street, and arranged it according to
+his taste, and as he honestly believed, as moderately as possible. He
+had none of the snobbishness of an impoverished parvenu, who is ashamed
+of being obliged suddenly to retrench, and hides his economies as a
+crime. On the contrary, he exulted boyishly when he had succeeded in
+procuring at a moderate price some pretty piece of furniture, an old
+oriental rug, or a carved chest, nor did he ever hesitate to lend a
+hand himself; he hammered and tacked with his slender fingers, as if he
+had been bred to such work all his life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And it must be admitted that, with the exception of the drawing-room,
+which his wife in spite of his remonstrances persisted in disfiguring
+with green damask hangings, purchased at an auction with her savings,
+his little home was a masterpiece of tasteful comfort. His former
+comrades liked to drop in often for a game of cards with him. There was
+no high play, and the drinking was very moderate, but the supper, the
+style of the company, and the company itself, were always alike
+exquisite.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The only disturbing element at these unostentatious gatherings was the
+mistress of the household, who sat opposite her husband at supper,
+affected and peevish in manner, and really bored by the high-bred and
+respectful courtesy with which she was treated.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At first Fritz had indulged in ideal schemes of educating his wife, but
+they all came to grief. There was no trace in the wife of the docile
+devotion of the betrothed. A woman whose whole heart is her husband's
+never feels humiliated by his superiority. Her whole being aspires to
+him, her perceptions become all the more acute, and in a very short
+while she learns to divine, to avoid, whatever may offend him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was, however, by no means the case with Charlotte. Her love for
+Fritz was of a very humdrum kind, and comprehension of him she had
+none. She did not acknowledge his superiority. All his good-humoured
+little preachments upon manners, she listened to with stubborn
+irritability. She was characterized to an extreme degree by the
+obdurate narrow-mindedness which sneers conceitedly at everything
+unlike itself, and absolutely refuses to learn. Fine clothes and
+pedantic affectations awed her, but she had no appreciation for
+the simple good-breeding of a man whose manners are the natural
+outgrowth of the habits of his class. Genuine good-breeding is like a
+mother-tongue which is spoken from childhood unconsciously as to its
+source, and correctly, without a thought of conjugations and
+declensions.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This she neither knew nor understood; she was far better pleased with
+the artificial manners which are acquired when one is grown up, like a
+foreign tongue from the grammar, and which are continually seasoned
+with pretentious quotations, from modern dictionaries of etiquette. The
+difference between Count Fritz and a smugly-dressed bagman, lay in her
+eyes solely in the title.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before long Fritz grew tired of trying to educate her, and confined
+himself merely to the most necessary admonitions.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Time passed--and there was a cradle hung with green silk in the
+Countess's room, and within it lay a boy of rare beauty. Charlotte
+petted and caressed her child with the instinct of tenderness shown by
+the lower animals towards their young, an instinct which fades out
+gradually, as soon as the offspring can forego its mother's physical
+care. Fritz rejoiced over the little fellow and had him christened
+Siegfried after the old Count his father, to whom he announced the
+birth of his grandson, hoping that it might help to bring about a
+reconciliation with the angry parent.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But the Count took no notice of the announcement.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At first Fritz's paternal sentiments were by no means enthusiastic, and
+if at times he caressed the little man, it was more out of kindness
+towards the mother than out of real interest in the child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On one occasion, however, he happened to enter the nursery just before
+going out, his hat on his head. The little one was in his bath, an
+expression of absolute physical comfort in his half-closed eyes, and on
+his plump little body, every dimple of which could be seen distinctly
+beneath the clear water.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz stopped, and playfully sprinkled a few drops of water upon the
+pretty baby-face. The child opened wide his eyes, and when his father
+repeated the play, the little one chuckled so merrily that it sounded
+like the cooing of doves, while throwing back his head and clinching
+his rosy fists upon his breast.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A few days afterward Fritz went again to the nursery; this time the boy
+was just out of his bath and was being dried in the nurse's lap. He
+recognised his father and stretched out his plump arms to him. Fritz
+could not help tickling him a little, touching his dimples with a
+forefinger, and catching hold of the wee hands; a strange sensation
+crept over him at the touch of the pure warm baby-flesh.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From that time he went into the nursery every day, if only for a
+moment. The child grew more and more lovely. His little pearly teeth
+appeared, and soft, golden hair hung over his forehead. He soon began
+in his short frocks to creep on all-fours over the carpet, and even to
+rise to his feet, holding by some article of furniture; and once, as
+Fritz was watching him with a languid smile, the boy suddenly left the
+chair against which he was leaning, and proudly and laboriously putting
+one foot before the other, advanced four steps towards his father, upon
+whose knee he was placed triumphantly quite out of breath with the
+mighty effort.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When a little girl appeared as a claimant for the green-draped cradle,
+a pretty diminutive bedstead was placed in Fritz Malzin's room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What good comrades they were, Papa, and Siegi! Fritz talked to the
+little fellow of all sorts of things that he never mentioned to any one
+else, of his loved ones, of his home! And Siegi would look at him out
+of his large eyes, as earnestly as if he understood every word. Long
+before he could put words together, the boy learned to say &quot;grandpapa,&quot;
+and when his father, pointing to the photograph of an old castle, that
+hung framed in the smoking-room, asked &quot;Siegi, what is that?&quot; the
+little fellow would reply &quot;Neeburg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The child was his father's friend, his companion, and was loved with an
+idolatry such as only those fathers can know who are estranged from
+their wives, and have no other interest in life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course the child had a French bonne, but her post was almost a
+sinecure. Fritz scarcely lost sight of the child for a moment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Shortly after his removal to Wiplinger street he had become convinced
+by certain calculations, that, in view of the high price demanded by
+hack-drivers, it was a great economy to keep horses.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The result of these calculations was attained after the fashion of the
+clever man who demonstrated clearly that it is far cheaper to live in a
+first-class Hotel than in one of the second class.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Siegi was barely three years old, Fritz used to put him on the
+seat beside him in his dog-cart, and drive with him in the Prater. For
+greater security the child was tied fast to the back of the seat with a
+broad, silken scarf.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Count Malzin's dog-cart was soon one of the best-known turn-outs in the
+Prater; the picturesque, lovely child beside the handsome,
+distinguished man could not fail to attract notice. Siegi was always
+dressed in good taste, and his soft curls lay like gold upon his
+shoulders. From time to time his little face was turned up eagerly to
+his father with some childish question. Then Fritz would bend over him
+with a smile, and sometimes put his arm around him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a positive delight to see them thus together. Many a lady who
+since Fritz's marriage had returned his bow but coldly, now nodded to
+him kindly as they gazed after the child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Once on a lovely day in April, Fritz alighted from his dog-cart with
+his little son and took him to walk, as was customary in Vienna, in the
+Prater. He was surrounded in a few minutes by a group of ladies with
+whom he had formerly been acquainted. Siegi had a triumphant success,
+every one wanted a kiss or a pat from his little hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Exquisite!&quot; exclaimed one after another. &quot;What a little angel! Malzin,
+you must bring the child to see us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fritz, do bring him to see me to-morrow at five, my children take
+their dancing-lesson then. You will come, won't you? You know the way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Fritz, flattered, smiled and bowed.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Since his marriage he had not gone into society; but for his boy's sake
+he accepted these invitations; the little fellow must learn to
+associate with his equals. Fritz resolved that he himself should alone
+endure the consequences of his folly, his son should not suffer from
+it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Although well-bred people of rank in their normal condition usually
+train their children to a conventional modesty of demeanour, Fritz, on
+the contrary, took pleasure in making his son almost haughty, he, whose
+own lack of all pretention had been a by-word!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When pride stands on the defensive, it always deteriorates somewhat.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">In spite of the modest scale of his household expenses, Fritz found to
+his surprise that during the first year he had spent just double his
+income. &quot;It is always so the first year,&quot; he consoled himself by
+thinking, but when the second year was no better but much worse, the
+matter began to annoy him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At his card-parties, which were still kept up, although Charlotte but
+seldom appeared at them, (a relief usually purchased by Fritz with a
+box for her at the theatre,) one of the guests was a certain Baron
+Schneller, a good-natured, well-to-do fellow, who had no taste for
+earning money, and was in consequence rather in disgrace with his
+family, who showed great diligence in that direction. He squandered his
+income among antiquities and ballet-girls. His volunteer year he had
+served in Fritz's squadron.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In his embarrassment Fritz applied to Schneller, and asked whether he
+knew of any more profitable investment for money than Austrian
+government bonds? Whereupon the banker's indolent son replied that he
+himself always invested upon principle in mortgages, but if Fritz
+wanted to know, he would ask his brother, who was at the head of his
+father's banking-firm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The next day he came, in his good-natured way, to see Fritz, bringing a
+list of 'safe stocks,' which were just then paying enormous dividends,
+and saying &quot;My brother sends his regards, and begs you to consider him
+entirely at your service in any financial operation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With characteristic carelessness, Fritz delivered over his property to
+the banker, and the banker protested that it was an honour to oblige
+the young gentleman.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After this Fritz felt free to spend three times as much as before. His
+property swelled and swelled without his comprehending the mysterious
+reasons for its increase. At last it began to assume the most
+unexpected dimensions. This lasted for some time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One day the banker informed the young Count that he was a millionaire,
+and asked him at the same time if he did not wish to realize.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Where is the use?&quot; said Fritz, &quot;there is no hurry,--er--I'll have a
+talk with you about it one of these days. I have no time just now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had promised the children to take them to the circus; of course he
+had no time for business.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was dining with Schneller, when he suddenly heard a young government
+official, who did not belong exactly to financial circles, say. &quot;A
+sorry prospect--the evening papers say that the Sternfeld-Lonsbergs are
+shaky.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz was startled. Little as he troubled himself about business
+affairs, he knew that the greatest part of his property was invested in
+Sternfeld-Lonsbergs. He looked fixedly at his host, who, however, only
+shrugged his shoulders, and remarking, &quot;merely an insignificant
+depression,&quot; scraped a piece of turbot from the half-denuded vertebrae
+of the fish which the servant was handing him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz continued to talk to his fair neighbour with the self-possession
+of a thoroughly well-bred man, while the Japanese dinner-service, with
+the cut glass, and flowers on the table danced wildly before his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After dinner, his eye-glass in his eye, and a pleasant smile on his
+lips, he took occasion to glance furtively at a paper, lying on a
+little table. His blood fairly ran cold; suddenly Baron Schneller stood
+beside him. &quot;You are entirely wrong to be worried,&quot; he asserted, and
+Fritz laughed and shrugged his shoulders as if the affair in question
+were a mere bagatelle. But the next day he wrote a note to the banker
+begging him to dispose of his stock for him. The banker dissuaded him
+from selling, the market was unfavourable; for the present he insisted
+the only thing to do was to wait.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz complied; shortly afterwards the banker advised him to take part
+in a complicated transaction which Fritz took no pains to understand,
+but which Schneller assured him positively would result in enormous
+profits.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was simply a reckless piece of stock-gambling.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz agreed to everything--what did he know about it? His financial
+affairs began to inconvenience him more and more. He wanted to be rich.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just at this time he had to pay a couple of large bills, which had not
+been presented for three years. He thought of his father. Good Heavens!
+The old Count could not be angry still. But, after years of alienation
+he could not in a financial difficulty make up his mind to appeal to
+him without further preface.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, that will not do,&quot; he said to his small confidant, Siegi. &quot;We
+must first see whether grandpapa cares for us, and if he does then we
+will make our confession; if not--<i>vogue la galère</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He never guessed the terrible misery that menaced him. Poverty was a
+phantom of which he had heard, without believing in it--it was as
+incomprehensible to him as death to a perfectly healthy man.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And so Siegi's bonne had to dress the boy in his newest sailor suit,
+and his father took him to be photographed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The picture was excellent. Fritz took a boyish delight in it, and
+showed it to all his acquaintances. He thought it impossible that the
+grandfather could resist that cherub face. He wrote the old Count a
+letter, every word of which came warm from his heart, telling him how
+he longed to see him, and then he guided Siegi's hand--the boy had just
+begun to write the alphabet large between pencilled lines--to write
+upon the back of the photograph: &quot;Dear grandpapa, love me a little--I
+send you a kiss and I am your little grandson. Siegi.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He awaited an answer in feverish but almost unwavering hope. The fourth
+day brought a letter from Schneeburg. Fritz recognised his father's
+handwriting and hurriedly tore open the envelope. It contained nothing
+save Siegi's photograph, which the old Count had returned without a
+word.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz clinched his fist and stamped his foot. Then he lifted his little
+son in his arms, kissing and caressing him as if to atone to the boy
+for the insult cast on him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was impossible to ask any favour of one who could act thus, even
+were he his father.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">This was at the end of September, and shortly afterwards came ruin,
+utter inevitable ruin! Not modest poverty which privately plucks our
+sleeve and whispers, &quot;retrench--economize!&quot; no, but downright brutal
+poverty, that seizes us by the collar with a dirty hand and wrenching
+us out of the warm soft nest of our daily habits, casts us out into the
+cold barren street with &quot;Starve! vagabond! freeze!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The million had disappeared, and when the banker, Schneller, announced
+to Fritz his ruin, he added, &quot;of course you cannot be forced to meet
+your obligations, Herr Count. The matter lies partly in your own
+hands.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz stared at him! The worst of it all was that his property was not
+sufficient to cover his indebtedness!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A multitude of petty creditors suddenly flocked around, saddlers,
+tailors, shoemakers, upholsterers, whose bills mounted to thousands.
+Fritz was beside himself. Small tradesmen must not lose by him. He
+broke up his entire household, and disposed of everything, from the
+oriental rugs in his smoking-room, to Siegi's black velvet suit and
+Venetian lace collar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But with all that he could do he could not pay every one. Some of the
+lesser creditors were coarse and pressing, but most of them only meekly
+twirled their caps about in their hands, murmuring, &quot;We can wait, Herr
+Count; we rely entirely upon the Herr Count.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He lived through each day dully, almost apathetically. The dreariness
+and emptiness of his house made no impression upon him. When the time
+came for him to part with his horses--a member of the <i>jeunesse dorée</i>
+of Vienna bought them at a high price--he took Siegi and went down into
+the stable, where he fed the beautiful creatures with bread and sugar,
+and stroked their heads and patted their necks; and when he turned and
+left them neighing and snorting with delight--it seemed to him that a
+piece of his heart were being torn from out his breast!....</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Every day his wife asked him when he was going to appeal to his father,
+but he made no reply. After the insult that the old Count had offered
+to his darling, nothing should ever induce him to make another appeal.
+Nothing? So he thought then. &quot;My father must have heard of my
+unfortunate circumstances,&quot; he said to himself, &quot;and if it does not
+occur to him to help me, there is nothing that I can do.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He determined to find a situation,--of course one befitting his name
+and station. If every ancient noble name to-day in Austria cannot lay
+claim, as in France in Louis the Fourteenth's time, to an office at
+court, or to a salary, there are at least a hundred kinds of sinecures
+that can afford the means of living suitably for their rank, to young
+scions of the nobility who have not sinned against the prejudices of
+their caste.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His fatal marriage aggravated the difficulties of Malzin's position.
+The horizon of his existence contracted and darkened more and more.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The dogged determination which, closing accounts with the past,
+resolutely clears away the débris of a ruined life from the path which
+is to lead to a new existence, Fritz did not possess. His was the
+passive endurance of pride, which calmly bows beneath the burden, and
+drags on with it to the end, simply because it scorns to complain or to
+appeal to compassion.</p>
+
+<p class="normal"><i>One</i> feeling only was stronger within him than pride, and that was
+love for his children.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Were he alone concerned, he would rather have starved than prefer a
+second request after the first had been refused, but he could not bring
+himself to see his children slowly starve.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He applied to several individuals who had always been on terms of great
+intimacy with his family, but after some had refused to receive him,
+and others had ignored his request with a forced smile, he felt
+paralysed, and resigned himself for a while to melancholy, brooding
+inactivity. There must come a change sooner or later, he thought. In
+the meanwhile he lived upon--debt, and could not comprehend why
+professional usurers should need so much urging to induce them to lend
+him, the probable heir of Schneeburg, a paltry couple of hundred
+gulden.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Had he been more exactly informed of his father's circumstances, this
+would not have surprised him so much. But he had heard nothing of the
+old Count for years. A strange repugnance had prevented his speaking of
+him to strangers,--it would only expose his own unfortunate
+estrangement from his father to their indiscreet curiosity. Every day
+he had a secret hope, although he hardly admitted it to himself, that
+the old Count would take pity upon him, and suddenly appear
+providentially.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But his father did not appear, and thus it was that finally he, Fritz
+Malzin, with his wife and children occupied two dingy third-story
+rooms in Leopold street, rented from his mother-in-law, who kept a
+lodging-house for gentlemen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Charlotte from morning until night bewailed her husband's
+unconscionable heedlessness, but in reality she was much happier than
+in Wipling street. To lounge about all the morning in a slatternly
+dishabille, to help prepare the breakfast for the lodgers, to gossip a
+little and flirt a little, and then in the evenings to array herself in
+the finery which she had contrived to smuggle into her present
+quarters, and to go to Ronacher's or some other beer-garden, where half
+a dozen second and third-rate coxcombs addressed her as 'Frau
+Countess,' and paid court to her,--such a life was bliss after the
+tedium of her former existence. She went out every evening, leaving
+Fritz at home with the children, revolving all kinds of improbable
+possibilities which might suddenly improve his condition, and devising
+schemes dependant upon lucky accidents that never happened.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sometimes a little warm hand was thrust into his; and a soft voice
+whispered to him: &quot;Papa, tell me a story!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then rousing himself from his sad reveries, he would try to make up
+some merry tale, but Siegi would shake his head, and nestling close to
+his father with his arms clinging about his neck and his head leaning
+against his father's cheek would beg, &quot;Tell me about Schneeburg, Papa.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The winter with its long nights wore on in close rooms poisoned by
+coal-gas, and pervaded by the cramping sensation of wretched
+confinement. Spring came; Siegi had lost his rosy cheeks, and his merry
+laugh. Every afternoon towards sunset his father took him out to walk.
+The child coughed a little.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One warm day in April the clouds were hanging low, while ever
+and anon in the narrow street a swallow skimmed anxiously to and fro.
+Siegi was weary, and his little feet dragged one after the other,
+when suddenly he pulled his father's hand, joyously shouting: &quot;Papa,
+papa--look--don't you see?--there is our Miesa!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz looked. It did not take an old 'cavalry man' an instant to
+recognize in an animal harnessed to a fiacre, one of his handsome
+horses of aforetime.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Miesa! how are you, old girl?&quot; he said caressingly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The creature recognised him instantly, and whinnied her delight. Fritz
+patted her neck and lifted Siegi up that he might kiss the white star
+on the animal's forehead, as he used to do.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then they resumed their walk. Without saying a word Fritz stroked his
+little son's cheek;--it was wet with tears. The poor little fellow was
+crying silently, for fear of grieving his father!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz felt a strange, choking sensation. He took the boy to a
+confectioner's, but the child could eat nothing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That night Siegi was taken ill. The physician pronounced it
+inflammation of the lungs. Lying in his father's arms for three days
+and nights, the boy suffered fearfully, and then the crisis was over.
+At the end of three weeks the little fellow could leave his bed, but he
+was paler and weaker than ever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">During Siegi's illness Fritz borrowed a hundred gulden from a former
+friend. Shortly afterwards he saw this friend in the street and was
+advancing to meet him when he saw him cross over the way with the
+evident intention of avoiding him. Fritz's blood was stirred at this,
+and blind, reckless rage seized him. The paltry hundred should be
+repaid at any cost. He sold his winter overcoat, and the golden
+chronometer which his father had given to him on his sixteenth
+birthday, and which was to have been an heirloom for Siegi.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He paid the hundred gulden--but ah, how often he repented it!</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Among the lodgers at the widow Schmitt's, as Charlotte's mother was
+called, was a sallow-faced old woman, whose room was a small, dark,
+comfortless hole, and who wore the same shabby, green gown, summer and
+winter, year in and year out. She was known as Frau Pick, and she was a
+professional beggar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One day, on returning from some humiliating errand, Fritz heard one of
+his sisters-in-law call to his wife: &quot;Pick is waiting.&quot;--&quot;I am ready,&quot;
+was the reply, and Charlotte came out into the passage with a letter in
+her hand. Fritz sprang to meet her, snatched the letter from her,
+forced her back into the room and, entering, closed the door behind
+them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The letter was addressed to the archbishop of Vienna.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What does this letter contain?&quot; he asked angrily, seizing her so
+rudely by the wrist, that she screamed and fell upon her knees before
+him; she did not answer his question, however.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is it a begging-letter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He thrust her from him indignantly. &quot;Shame upon you!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is all your fault!&quot; she replied scornfully, &quot;if you won't work, I
+must beg.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah!&quot;--he staggered as if from a blow full in the face, snatched up his
+hat and went out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before night he had a situation in the office of a tramway company, at
+a hundred gulden a month.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The summer was more sultry than usual. The air in Vienna seemed
+fever-laden. The trees in Ring street no longer rustled dreamily as in
+Spring, there was a sound among their parched leaves as of a low cough.
+If a rose bloomed out in the public gardens in early morning, before
+evening it looked dry and withered, like a reveller returning from a
+masked ball; the blue Danube was as tawny as a canal, and Vienna
+reminded one more than ever of Manzanares.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The theatres were deserted, the tramways overcrowded, all who could
+went out into the country. Pedestrians hugged the wall on the shady
+side of the street; the skies were one monotone of blue. The glare of
+the house-fronts made the eyes ache.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The pestilent summer atmosphere of cities hung over Vienna, saturated
+with decay, and reeking with filth. A deadly epidemic broke out; in
+almost every block one met a sad litter, borne by silent sanitary
+officials.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Siegi grew weaker and more weary day by day; he coughed a little but
+never complained. Fritz consulted his old family physician who merely
+prescribed nourishing food and country air.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz insisted upon knowing whether any danger was to be
+apprehended--the old man remained silent, and of a sudden the father
+felt that freezing thrill that comes of touching a corpse. For the
+first time he recognized the possibility of the child's death.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All his pride broke down at the thought; he wrote immediately to his
+father, unfolding to him his own need and the child's condition, and
+imploring permission to bring the boy to Schneeburg.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Days passed into weeks; his letter was unanswered. He lived on
+mechanically with sufficient mental force to fulfil his duties at the
+office. He performed them slowly and with difficulty, but he was
+treated with consideration. Even had there been a way close at hand out
+of the misery he could hardly have found it now.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Every morning Siegi's weak little voice sounded weaker, as he said,
+when his father left him, &quot;Come back soon!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Why had he repaid that hundred gulden? There was no conceivable
+humiliation to which he would not gladly now have submitted could he
+but procure for Siegi the comforts that were needed! But to have to
+haggle over the price of an orange or of an ice!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There were moments, when he ground his teeth, and in his heart avowed
+that he was ready and willing to beg, to steal for Siegi. But not every
+one who will, can be a rogue. Once or twice he met a 'friend' who still
+lingered in Vienna. He advanced towards him--with words of begging on
+his lips--only to be seized with a fit of trembling--no, he could
+not--he could not--it was impossible!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And scarcely had his 'friend 'passed by before he cursed himself for
+his--cowardice. Weaker and weaker grew the child. Once Fritz took it to
+the Prater to amuse it. The gay music of the band, the carriages, all
+that the summer had left, in which the boy had once found such delight,
+now cut him to his little heart.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They sat together upon a bench, beneath the dusty trees. The child
+looked at the throng of vehicles with eyes wide and fixed--the father
+looked at his son. &quot;Does it amuse you? Do you like it, Siegi?&quot; he
+asked, bending tenderly over him; the boy smiled faintly and said,
+&quot;Yes, Papa!&quot; But, in a few moments he leaned his tired little head
+against the father's breast and lisped, &quot;Let us go home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Only a little while longer and Siegi could not leave his bed--and Fritz
+heard the dread word 'consumption!'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He knew that it could be only a question of weeks, and sometimes said
+to himself that it would be better for the child if death would come
+quickly. But he thrust the thought from him. No, no, he yearned to hear
+as long as possible the little voice, and to stroke the thin cheek. The
+rosy childish face was wan and pinched, the arms looked like little
+brown sticks, the delicate tracery of the blue veins about the temples
+grew daily more distinct, the brow grew more like marble....</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then came mornings when Fritz, going early to his office, feared that
+he should not find the child living upon his return in the evening. As
+he mounted the stairs when he came home his heart would seem to stand
+still--he would enter the room very softly. The little head would move
+on the pillow, a hoarse little voice would gasp: &quot;Papa!&quot; and the
+father's heart would leap for joy!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It came towards the end of August--in a heavy, stifling, sultry night.
+He was alone with his child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Charlotte had retired; she could not look upon death. The heat was
+intolerable. The windows were wide open, but they looked out upon a
+court where the air was no cooler than in the sick-room. The fragrance
+of the roses and mignonette, which Fritz had brought home with him to
+perfume the air a little, floated sadly through the small room. It
+seemed as if the death struggle of the flowers mingled with the death
+struggle of the child. Siegi lay in his little bed, propped up with
+pillows. His breathing was so short and quick that it could hardly be
+counted. &quot;Papa!&quot; he gasped from time to time.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What, my darling? Do you want anything?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No,--only--when are we going to Schneeburg?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Soon, my pet--very soon!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The child became half unconscious, tossed from side to side, and
+plucked vehemently at the sheet with his emaciated little hands.
+Delirium set in, he laughed aloud, chirrupped to imaginary horses, and
+then with a thin, quavering little voice, began to sing an old French
+nursery song that his bonne had taught him:</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Il était un petit navire</i>....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Poor Fritz's blood ran cold, he took the child in his arms, and clasped
+him close. The cooler air of dawn breathed through the room--the light
+of the poor candle flickered strangely. Gray shadows danced on the wall
+like phantoms--the low chirp of a bird was heard in the distance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Suddenly the flame of the candle leaped up and died out. Fritz started
+and gazed at the child--it was dead!</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The next morning Fritz received a letter from his father enclosing a
+draft for a thousand-gulden note, coupled with the old Count's cordial
+and anxious words. His son's last letter had reached him in the most
+complicated roundabout way; he had just returned from a voyage to
+Australia, and had known nothing of Fritz's unfortunate circumstances.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In reply Fritz merely wrote, &quot;The child is dead.&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">It was the afternoon after the funeral, and Fritz was all alone in the
+house. Charlotte had taken the children for a little walk; there was a
+sharp ring at his door. He rose and opened it. A white-haired old
+gentleman of distinguished mien, asked, &quot;Is Count Malzin----&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Father!&quot; stammered Fritz.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old man advanced a step, eagerly scanned the face that had grown
+wan and haggard almost past recognition, then opened wide his arms and
+clasped his son to his heart. All anger, all bitterness on both sides
+was forgotten.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They sat down in the dim, sordid room in which Siegi had died, and
+Fritz laid bare his heart.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They sat close enough to read the deep sympathy in each other's eyes,
+and to hear each other's low tones, and in the midst of his
+inconsolable grief, Fritz rejoiced in being once more with some one who
+understood him, some one to whose loving compassion he could confide
+the wretchedness of his life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He told his father everything; of his marriage, of his imprudence--of
+his misery. He soon perceived that the old Count had believed Charlotte
+to be worse than she was, and therefore had refused to acknowledge
+Siegi as his grandson.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But that was all past and gone! He made his son bring out all the
+likenesses of the dead boy, and was absorbed in every detail concerning
+him; he asked endless questions, and seemed as if he would thereby fain
+have assumed a share of his son's overwhelming grief, relieving Fritz
+of it to that extent at least.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last steps were heard outside, and Charlotte entered with the
+children. Fritz winced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Father, this is my wife.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The grand old Count advanced to meet her as if she were a princess,
+called her &quot;daughter&quot; and kissed her forehead. He could not
+sufficiently caress and pet the children.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The next morning Fritz with the children paid him a visit at the Hotel
+Munsch, and they took leave of each other with affectionate cordiality.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course you will come to Schneeburg with your family as soon as
+possible,&quot; the old Count said anxiously, as they parted. &quot;You need your
+home, my poor boy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Fritz rejoiced--in the midst of all his grief,--at the thought of
+home.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They had already begun to get ready to leave Vienna, when a letter
+arrived from Schneeburg.</p>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<span class="sc">Dear Fritz</span>,</p>
+
+<p class="normal" style="text-indent:10%">Hard as it is to write it, I must ask you not to give up your situation
+in Vienna for the present. My poor, dear boy, I can do nothing for you
+until my affairs are arranged. Only have patience and all will soon be
+well, etc....&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">When the hoped-for arrangement was completed it was discovered that the
+old Count was penniless. In his costly expedients to raise money he had
+begun frittering away his property and then--it seemed incredible--he
+became infected with the general mania for finding millions on the
+highway, and had entangled himself in a colossal speculation in
+Australian gold mines. Conte Capriani, with whom he had become
+acquainted in Vichy, had convinced him of the certainty of gain in the
+affair. Capriani's name alone was sufficient warrant for the value of
+the stock. The old Count was made president of the company; his name
+was used to inspire the public with confidence,--his noble old name
+which he had borne so honourably for sixty-five years! The first year
+the company paid enormous dividends--out of their capital. In the
+second year matters began to look suspicious. The Conte slowly withdrew
+from the scheme--he found that certain things were different from what
+he had supposed; he had been falsely informed.... He advised the Count,
+who went to Paris to consult him, to dispose of his stock slowly
+without exciting suspicion. But the Count would not listen to anything
+of the kind. He had pledged himself to the public, his easy confidence
+had induced hundreds of men to buy the stock, he had urged many of them
+to do so thinking it was for their advantage. Among them were poor
+people, impoverished relatives, nay even old servants, his children's
+former tutors who had invested all their savings in this unfortunate
+scheme, upon his recommendation. He was beside himself, bought up as
+much of the stock as he could, and went himself to Australia to
+investigate matters. He, who in his whole life from his school-days up
+had never known anything of figures beyond what enabled him to keep the
+reckoning at whist, now ciphered and calculated, bringing all his
+powers of mind to bear upon the possibilities of profit.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He found matters by no means as desperate as had been represented in
+Europe--the affair might have been made a success with prompt energetic
+management; what was needed was more capital. But the confidence of the
+stockholders was shaken; the Count upon his return to Europe tried in
+vain to issue fresh stock, he applied fruitlessly to the Conte
+Capriani, representing to him that as the originator of the entire
+speculation he was bound to help. The Conte maintained that he was
+powerless.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The stock fell lower and lower, fell with bewildering rapidity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One day Fritz received a letter: &quot;Schneeburg must be sold.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The poor fellow felt as if his sore heart had been struck with a
+hammer. His sad yearning for his home was turned to a burning thirst--a
+consuming desire. He was as homesick as a peasant, nay--as a Slav.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Men who live in cities and change their dwelling-place three or four
+times, never strike root anywhere, and consequently can have no
+conception of the homesickness that attacks a man who is separated from
+the soil upon which he and his ancestors for generations have been born
+and bred. A man thus bred has become acclimated like a plant, to this
+special air, this special soil, and however long the years of absence,
+wherever he may have lived meanwhile, he will always yearn for 'home.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz had caught a cold upon leaving Wipling street, at the same time
+that Siegi had been taken with the illness that ended in his death.
+Fritz recovered, but his health was shattered, his voice was husky, and
+h» had feverish nights which in spite of weariness were wakeful. For
+hours he would pace the wretched room where stood Siegi's empty little
+bed, which he had not brought himself to have removed, and would
+conjure up visions of Schneeburg.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sell Schneeburg! In his pain at this fresh blow he forgot for a moment
+his grief for his child. Memories of 'home' thronged about him with a
+vividness that savoured of mental hallucination. He saw the morning sun
+glitter in the dewy moss that lay green on the thatched roofs of the
+village, he saw the very puddles before the houses wherein the swine
+wallowed, and a flock of fowls scratching on a muck-heap, and a group
+of shivering children cowering beneath the cross before the smithy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He saw the pond in the middle of the village; the little dusky waves
+swelled and rippled beneath the nipping wind of autumn and a single
+rugged elm cast its long reflection across the broken surface. He saw
+the soft black soil on the edge of the pond stamped with countless
+impressions of webbed feet. He saw the geese themselves, hissing and
+flapping their wings while the sunlight played upon the rough pink
+surface of their plucked breasts. Thatched roofs, swine, and geese had
+certainly never interested him much--these detailed impressions had
+been made upon his mind all unconsciously--they belonged to the whole.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He saw long transparent wreaths of mist like ghostly shrouds, floating
+above the freshly-ploughed fields, and the crows flapping above the
+brown leafless trees, in gloomy processions, mourners for the dead
+summer,--a dun-coloured cow was standing between two gnarled
+apple-trees by the way-side, looking inquisitively out of her dark-blue
+glazed eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The pictures grew confused, and again distinct. He saw the park with
+its broad emerald meadows where the venerable trees grew in large dense
+clumps. He knew the voice of every single tree, the rustle of the oak
+differed from the murmur of the copper-beech; he knew the very tree
+which would turn orange-coloured in autumn, which one only yellow,
+edged with black, and which one dark crimson. They stirred their grand
+old heads and broke into a chant; it sounded like a magnificent choral
+through the still autumn air, while single leaves, frosted with dew, as
+with delicate molten silver, loosed their hold and sank slowly
+fluttering down upon the grass.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And the kitchen garden, that Paradise of childhood, with its hoary
+apricot-trees, whose mellow fruit always dropped on the old-fashioned
+sage beds. Ah, what fruit it was, so big, and so yellow, and so juicy!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then he laughed softly at something that had happened twenty years
+before, and--waking from his visions, and his reverie, passed his hand
+across his brow. Where was he? Sitting in the room of a miserable
+lodging-house, beside the empty little bed of his dead child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He lay down very weary. The last thing that he saw distinctly before
+falling asleep was a large circle of red gravel in front of Schneeburg
+Castle, furrowed with delicate ruts. These ruts formed the figure of
+eight--the first figure of eight which he, a boy of fifteen, had drawn
+in the gravel with his father's four-in-hand--the delicate fragrance,
+not perceptible to every one, of wild strawberries floated past him,
+and then all faded. Sleep compassionately laid her hand upon his heart
+and brain. He slept the sleep of the dead for a couple of hours, and
+the next morning his torture began afresh.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He could have wandered barefoot like a beggar to Schneeburg, only to be
+able to fling himself down on that dear earth, and kiss the very soil
+of his home.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sale was long in concluding,--purchasers chaffered as usual, when
+in treaty for an impoverished estate. There were fears that it would be
+brought to the hammer. But in the spring Capriani appeared and offered
+a price for Schneeburg which was at least sufficient to cover the
+Count's indebtedness. His lawyer urged the old man not to delay
+accepting this offer, but Siegfried Malzin still hesitated. For three
+days he wandered about Schneeburg like one distraught, then he began to
+yield conditionally, but all conditions vanished before Capriani's
+energy. Malzin lost his head, and made many injudicious concessions. He
+sold with the estate very many valuable articles that he ought to have
+kept for himself. He forgot everything--and as a man at a fire will
+finally rescue in triumph an old umbrella, and a child's toy, so he
+rescued from his property, in addition to the family vault, which from
+the first he insisted upon keeping, nothing, save--the stuffed charger
+which stood in the hall, and which a Malzin had bestridden on the
+occasion of the liberation of Vienna by Sobiesky.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The morning after the deed of sale had been signed, the former
+possessor of Schneeburg was found dead in his bed--heart-disease had
+delivered him from misery.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">On one and the same day Fritz heard of the sale of Schneeburg and of
+his father's death;--he was crushed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Capriani had a weakness for taking into his service impoverished men of
+rank. They worked but indifferently well, as he knew; but nevertheless
+he preferred to employ them. He paid them well, and treated them
+cruelly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One day he offered Fritz the post of private secretary. To the
+astonishment, nay, to the horror, of all his friends, Fritz accepted
+the position.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On a cool evening in May he took possession with his wife and children
+of the little cottage on the borders of the park, close to the kitchen
+garden, and a sense of delight mingled with pain, thrilled through him,
+as he hurried along the paths of the dear old home that now belonged to
+another.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had to warn his children not to run on the grass, not to pull the
+flowers, and upon his own land!--yes, his own by right--he never could
+appreciate that this land had ceased forever to be his.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He could not look upon Capriani except as a temporary usurper. He could
+not but believe in counter revolutions--what was to bring them about he
+could not tell.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sometimes when he suddenly came upon old Miller, his former nurse who
+had found an asylum with him, he would say: &quot;Miller, do you remember
+this--or that?&quot; and upon her &quot;yes, Count,&quot; he would smile languidly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All the fire, all the impetuosity of his nature was extinct.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sometimes he roused himself to feel that it was his bounden duty to do
+something to reinstate his son in his rights. But what?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Conte Capriani, to be sure, had begun life with a single gulden in his
+pocket, but that was quite a different thing. It was not for Fritz
+Malzin to enter the lists with the stock-jobber, who knew so well how
+to keep just within the letter of the law.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And so he continued to live, sadly resigned, dreaming of old times,
+hoping for wonderful strokes of fortune that never took shape. All the
+while he indulged in visions, and every evening, when he laid his
+cards for Patience he consulted them, always asking the self-same
+question--&quot;Will Schneeburg ever revert to my children?&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>BOOK THIRD.</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">A jingling of bells, a clatter of hoofs from five spirited bays
+harnessed in Russian fashion, and hardly seeming to touch the earth as
+they fly along, a rattle of wheels, a whirling cloud of dust,--and
+Oswald Lodrin's five-in-hand came sweeping round a corner in one of the
+old-fashioned streets in Rautschin. People ran from everywhere to
+stare,--a housemaid cleaning a window, leaned out at the risk of her
+neck, to follow the gay equipage; two small boys going home from
+school, paused and vented their delight in waving their caps and
+cheering; Oswald nodded to them kindly. His eyes were aglow with
+happiness, he had a white rosebud in his button-hole. His future
+father-in-law sat beside him in the driver's seat, and Georges was on
+the seat behind.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was the day before the election. Oswald had just come from Castle
+Rautschin, where, according to agreement, he was to pick up his uncle
+to drive with him to the railway station, and he had taken this
+opportunity to display his new five-in-hand to his betrothed. The five
+horses clattered along gaily, as if to the races, instead of to a
+railway station.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We must hurry, there is the signal,&quot; said Georges half rising from his
+seat, to gaze in the direction of the station.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't be afraid,&quot; rejoined Oswald, &quot;it is an Express, to be sure, but
+if it sees us coming, it will wait!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;True! I forgot we were in Austria,&quot; said Georges laughing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The bays flew like birds along the avenue of ancient poplars. The
+sun shone on their trim, plain harness, upon their glossy hides;
+white and blue butterflies were fluttering above the earliest
+wayside-flowers. A few minutes later Oswald drew up before the station,
+built Austrian-wise, after the ugly fashion of a Swiss cottage.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sapristi! He too is going to the election,&quot; exclaimed Georges, as he
+observed Capriani's equipage.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You may be very sure he will not hide his light under a bushel,&quot;
+grumbled Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And I quite forgot to have a railway coupé reserved for us. Did you
+remember it, uncle?&quot; asked Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Time passed. Oswald's servant hurried off to get the tickets, and when
+the gentlemen went to take their places, they found that there were but
+two first-class coupé's, one occupied by a lady with her invalid
+daughter, the other by the Caprianis, father and son. What was to be
+done? It was most vexatious; the three gentlemen, with their servants
+bearing portmanteaux and dust-coats, the station master and the
+conductor, all stood on the platform in consultation, while the train
+patiently waited.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The third signal whistled, Conte Capriani appeared at the door of his
+coupé with a smile of invitation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges calmly shifted his cigar from one corner to the other of his
+mouth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Better open an empty second-class for us,&quot; said Truyn frowning.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have none quite empty,&quot; the conductor explained; &quot;but this gentleman
+will get out at the third station.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is the cattle-dealer from Kamnitz,&quot; whispered Oswald with a little
+grimace, after glancing through the window of the coupé. But it made no
+difference to his uncle who immediately sprang in and took his seat,
+followed by the young men. What if the man were a cattle-dealer? Truyn
+remembered having seen him before, and at once entered into
+conversation with him upon the price of meat, a conversation in which
+Oswald, remarkably well up as he always was in all agricultural
+matters, took part. The cattle-dealer alighted at his destination,
+greatly impressed by the affability of the noblemen, and convinced that
+all he had heard of their arrogance was false.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If the coupé only did not smell so insufferably of warm leather!&quot;
+exclaimed Truyn after the dealer's departure, &quot;and ugh! the man's cigar
+was positively--&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It often happens now-a-days,&quot; interposed Georges, &quot;that a gentleman is
+forced to travel second-class to avoid a stock-jobber. The question in
+my mind is, when will our civilization be so far advanced that the
+stock-jobber will travel second-class to avoid one of us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We shall never live to see that,&quot; said Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The insolence of those people waxes gigantic,&quot; said Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is our own fault; if we had not danced hand-in-hand with them
+before the golden calf, they would not now be so presuming,&quot; observed
+Truyn, &quot;remember --73.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hm,--our worship of that idol showed simplicity, to say the least,&quot;
+remarked Georges, &quot;the golden calf returned so much gratitude for our
+homage.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So much gratitude,&quot; growled Truyn. &quot;I did not share in the worship,
+but I do in the disgrace!--But enough of that! Can Capriani vote? He
+has not owned Schneeburg for a year yet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, but has he not another estate in Northern Bohemia?&quot; asked Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are right, he has,&quot; said Truyn. &quot;I suppose he will vote with the
+Liberals.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In all probability!&quot; replied Oswald. &quot;<i>Tous les républicains ne sont
+pas canaille, mais toute la canaille est républicaine</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do not think that Capriani openly ranks among the Liberals,&quot;
+remarked Georges, &quot;I know of a certainty that not long ago he placed
+large sums of money for charitable purposes at the disposal of several
+ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That was when he was a candidate for the Jockey Club,&quot; rejoined
+Oswald. &quot;I heard about that. Ever since he was black-balled there, he
+sings a different song. He is organizing Liberal schools at Schneeburg,
+and has a great deal to do with universal enlightenment.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Confound universal enlightenment!&quot; railed Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald shrugged his shoulders, &quot;I should not shed a tear for it,&quot; said
+he, &quot;in the first ardour of my charitable schemes I took some interest
+in it, but I soon detected the wretched business, masked by that
+high-sounding phrase;--it means universal distribution of rancid scraps
+of learning sure to provoke an indigestion which as surely will develop
+into an enlargement of the spleen. That kind of knowledge never widens
+the horizon of the masses--it does nothing, except pick holes in their
+illusions.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Widen the horizon--pretty stuff that!&quot; said Truyn, the reactionary.
+&quot;In my opinion a contracted horizon is the condition of happiness for
+the masses.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear fellow, if you attempt to advocate such views ....&quot; began
+Georges, half laughing, half indignant.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My views, remember,&quot; interrupted Truyn, &quot;are the result of years of
+experience; I have lived here all my life, and know the people better
+than any freshly imported Herr Capriani, blown hither, Heaven only
+knows whence. What we want is a contented, well-fed, warmly-clad
+people, that will play merrily with the children on Saturday evening,
+go piously to church on Sunday morning, and not discuss too much on
+Sunday afternoon.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, of course,&quot; assented Georges. &quot;What you want, first and foremost,
+is a people that won't disturb your peaceful enjoyment of life. There's
+no denying that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am perfectly open to conviction,&quot; asserted Truyn with dignity. &quot;As
+soon as you prove to me that these disturbers of the public peace
+promote the happiness of the masses, I will ground arms before them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Happiness!--I don't believe that those people care as much as they
+pretend for the happiness of the masses,&quot; said Oswald, looking up from
+his note-book in which he had begun to scribble rapidly. &quot;Happiness is
+conservative--they would gain nothing from that. As far as I can see,
+all they want is to rouse the discontent of the people by constant
+irritation,&quot; and he turned to his note-book again. His scribbling did
+not seem to run as smoothly as before.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There you are right,&quot; agreed Truyn. &quot;Their aim is to arouse the
+discontent of the people--the discontent of the masses is the tool of
+their entire party, and they will go on sharpening it until some fine
+day they'll cut their fingers off with it, and serve them right.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Decry the degenerate portion of the species as much as you choose,&quot;
+replied Georges, &quot;you cannot but acknowledge that modern democracy has
+been of immense service to mankind.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Verité de monsieur de La Palisse</i>,&quot; muttered Oswald, without looking
+up.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't talk to me of your 'modern democracy,' I made its acquaintance
+in France--this 'modern democracy' of yours,&quot; thundered Truyn in a
+rage. He drew a deep, shuddering breath, lighted a cigar and gazed out
+of the coupé-window, apparently to allay his political anxiety by the
+sight of his dearly-loved fatherland.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He did not succeed, however, for before a minute had passed, he turned
+to Georges again and exclaimed angrily, &quot;How delightful to contemplate
+the next generation; what a charming prospect! A people all ignorant
+atheists. I ask no severer punishment for the agitators who have
+wrought the mischief in this generation, than to be obliged to govern
+the next.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suppose they themselves would desire nothing better,&quot; said Oswald
+smiling.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That's perfectly true; all they are struggling for, is power,&quot;
+muttered Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Excuse me, my dear friend; but what are you struggling for?&quot; asked
+Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What are <i>we</i> struggling for,&quot; repeated Truyn, looking at him
+compassionately, &quot;what are we struggling for?--I will tell you;--for
+the Emperor and our fatherland, which means for order and justice,
+for the dignity of the throne, for the sanctity of home, for the
+fostering of beauty and nobility, for all the wealth of human
+achievement which we have inherited from the past, and ought to
+bequeath to the future--in a word, Georges,--we are protecting
+civilization.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bursts of applause from the Right--aha--congratulations to the orator
+from the Left!&quot; said Georges laughing, then turning to Oswald who was
+still scribbling, he observed, &quot;I rather think you have been taking
+short-hand notes of your uncle's speech. We will send them to Otto
+Ilsenbergh, he will be delighted.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nonsense!&quot; said Oswald. &quot;I am composing a telegram.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In verse?&quot; Georges asked innocently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Georges! As head of the family I desire to be treated with more
+respect,&quot; said Oswald, laughing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, it occurred to me, only because you were making so many
+corrections,&quot; rejoined Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The thing is quite difficult--it must be so worded that Gabrielle
+shall understand it,--and the telegraph operators shall not; I cannot
+manage it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suppose you refresh your powers with a glass of sherry,&quot; proposed
+Georges, taking down an appetizing lunch-basket from the rack above his
+head, and drawing forth a bottle and three wine-glasses.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The wine had a decidedly soporific effect upon the three travellers.
+Truyn's political excitement was soothed, and after drinking to a
+better future, all three leaned back in silence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn pondered upon the shy, timid confession that his wife had made to
+him that morning early, very early, as they were sauntering together in
+the park, while the sun's first slant rays were breaking through the
+shrubbery, and the morning-dew was still glittering on the meadows.
+&quot;The whole earth seems bathed in tears of delicious joy,&quot; his young
+wife had whispered, and then through her own happy tears she had begged
+him to give her a 'really large sum' from her own money that she might
+make some of the poor people on the estate happy too.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gradually his thoughts wandered, and grew vague; the sounds of railway
+bells, and the shrill whistle of the engine, the grating voices of
+conductors, and the monotonous whirr of wheels mingled, subsided, and
+died away; his latest impressions faded, and, instead of the green park
+of Rautschin, a dim Roman street rises upon his mental vision, with a
+procession of masked torch-bearers accompanying a coffin;--the picture
+changes, the Roman street is transformed to a lofty hall so tragically
+solemn that the sunbeams lose their smile as they enter the high
+windows and glide pale and wan through the twilight gloom to die at the
+feet of ancient statues. He looks about him, lost in surprise and
+wondering where is he?--in the tomb of the Medici?--or among the
+monuments of the melancholy gray church of Santa Croce? No, he suddenly
+recollects it is the Bargello, and yon white marble, that gleams
+through the dim religious light in such lifelike, or rather deathlike,
+beauty, revealing, as it lies outstretched, such clear-cut, nay, such
+sharp outlines, and the noble attenuation of youth, eager and fiery, is
+Michael Angelo's 'dead Adonis,' the ideal embodiment of the springtime
+of manhood crushed in its bloom. Anon vapour curls upward, and the
+crimson flicker of torches plays over the white statue, the masked
+torch-bearers stand around it, a wailing chant echoes through the
+hall--who is it lying there listlessly, with the ineffable charm of a
+fair young form, which death has suddenly snatched, before the poison
+of disease has wasted and deformed it?--</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn started, broad awake, every pulse throbbing.--Merciful God! how
+could he dream anything so horrible! Oswald sat opposite, with eyes
+half-closed, an extinguished cigarette in his hand. His face wore the
+expression of absolute content which is so often strangely seen on the
+face of the dead and which none except the dead ever wear, save the
+few, who, by God's grace, have been permitted to behold Heaven upon
+earth. Truyn could not away with a sensation of painful anxiety.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For Heaven's sake, Ossi, open your eyes!&quot; he exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter?&quot; asked Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing,&quot; said Truyn, &quot;only....&quot; at that moment the train stopped.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pemik!&quot; shouted the conductor, &quot;ten minute's stop,&quot; and then opening
+the coupé door he politely informed the travellers that another coupé
+was now at their service.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Pernik is the junction of several railway lines, trains coming from two
+separate watering-places connect here with trains from Prague, and set
+free the travellers who have tried the virtue of the various baths.
+Ladies with faded faces, and bouquets of faded flowers, were wandering
+about looking for hand-bags gone astray or for waiting-maids, men were
+busily munching, glad to forget over their first sandwich, the dietetic
+limitations to which they had been forced to submit while undergoing a
+course of the baths; locomotives were hissing and puffing like monsters
+out of breath after a race; the sunshine glittered on the flat roofs of
+the railway-carriages, the whole atmosphere reeked with coal-dust, and
+hot iron; there was the usual bustle of hand-cars piled with luggage
+pushed along the rails, of the shifting of cars on the tracks, and of
+vendors of fresh water and Pernik beer, with newspaper boys loudly
+extolling their various wares.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Escorted by the obsequious conductor, and followed by the servants, the
+three conservatives were making their way through the hurly-burly when
+they nearly ran against a young man, who, with his hands in the pockets
+of his rough coat, was striding through the crowd, never turning to the
+right or the left, in a line as straight as that of the railway between
+St. Petersburg and Moscow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pistasch!&quot; exclaimed Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, I thought I should meet you somewhere.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All began to talk at once, when suddenly Pistasch turned, and said,
+&quot;Good-day!&quot; to Conte Capriani, who was coming towards him with extended
+hand, and an air of great cordiality.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald and Truyn held themselves very erect, looked straight before
+them, and, passing Pistasch and Capriani, entered their coupé.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do not understand Kamenz,&quot; said Truyn, after they had installed
+themselves comfortably, and Georges had called from the window for a
+glass of Pernik beer. Oswald, his elbows propped on the frame of his
+window, was taking a prolonged observation of the interview between
+Capriani and Pistasch Kamenz.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The third bell rang--the speculator and the nobleman shook hands and
+separated; then Pistasch approached the coupé where sat the three
+conservatives, and asked, &quot;Any room in there for me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Room enough, but we're not sure that we ought to let you come with us,
+you renegade!&quot; said Oswald, unlatching the coupé door. &quot;Are you too
+going to Prague for the election?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said Pistach lazily, &quot;not if I know it, in this heat. I am going
+to the races--but I shall vote.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Such indifference, nowadays, is culpable,&quot; said Truyn gravely. &quot;This
+is a serious time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bah! it is all one to me, who goes to the Reichsrath;--moreover,
+whoever he may be, he exists principally for the benefit of the
+newspapers,&quot; replied Pistasch apathetically.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Only a few years previously, Truyn himself had defined the Reichsrath,
+as a 'circus for political acrobats'--but his political views were now
+daily gaining in consistency.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">An interest in politics is usually aroused in men of his stamp, when
+they are between forty and fifty years of age--at a time when the taste
+for champagne begins to yield to that for claret. Almost all men are
+thus aroused at two different periods of life; in early youth and in
+late middle age.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That which ten years before Truyn had ridiculed, was now invested for
+him with a sacred earnestness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We must be true to our convictions for our country's sake!&quot; he
+exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Has any one really any convictions,--political ones I mean?&quot; asked
+Pistasch, &quot;my conviction is that it is all up with us, but the country
+will last as long as I shall--after that I take no interest in it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And is this your latest creed?&quot; asked Truyn indignantly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is a very time-honoured creed, uncle,&quot; said Georges, &quot;if I am not
+mistaken it was the fundamental article of faith of that lugubrious
+Solomon in a full-bottomed wig, who played such unholy pranks in
+France, under Voltaire's reign. '<i>Apres nous le déluge!</i>'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Louis Fifteenth, do you mean?&quot; asked Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Pistasch observed, &quot;You have become fearfully erudite while you
+have been abroad, Georges. I fancy you are preparing to apply for a
+professorship of history, in the event of the social cataclysm that
+seems at hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All the while the train is rushing onwards, past pastures seamed by
+narrow ditches, past turnip-fields, past villages with ragged thatched
+roofs, and tumble-down picket fences upon which red and blue garments
+are hanging to dry, while lolling over them are sunflowers, with yellow
+haloes encircling their black velvet faces. Nowhere is there a trace of
+romantic exuberance, everything tells of sober, practical thrift.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A white, dusty road winds among slender plum-trees, and along it is
+jolting a small waggon, drawn by a pair of thirsty dogs, their tongues
+hanging from their mouths; a labourer, half through his swath in a
+clover-field, fascinated by the whizzing train, stops mowing and stares
+with open mouth and eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn has become absorbed in the contents of 'The Press' which he holds
+stretched wide in both hands. Oswald, Georges, and Pistasch have
+improvised a table out of a wrap laid across their knees, and are
+indulging in a game of cards.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the news, uncle?&quot; Oswald asked as he shuffled the cards.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The authorities have forbidden the importation of rags at any Austrian
+port; and a Jew has been butchered somewhere in Russia,&quot; Pistasch
+replied incontinently. Truyn paid no heed to Oswald's question but all
+at once he dropped the newspaper.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter?&quot; asked the young men.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Wips Seinsberg has died suddenly!&quot; said Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Poor devil!&quot; said Oswald, with about as much sympathy as we feel for
+people not particularly congenial. &quot;He was a good fellow, but somewhat
+vacillating! Ever since his marriage I have seen very little of him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Was he married?&quot; asked Truyn, who, during his stay abroad, had lost
+sight of Wips Seinsberg.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He married into trade,&quot; Oswald said curtly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It is odd; elsewhere the daughters of tradesmen marry into the
+nobility;--in Austria the sons of the nobility marry into trade!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Into trade?&quot; Truyn repeated slowly, and interrogatively.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What did he die of?&quot; asked Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It does not say,&quot; replied Truyn re-reading the notice in the
+newspaper.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Hm!--that looks suspicious,&quot; said Pistasch.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The election is over. Pistasch has shaken hands with all the
+middle-class land-owners, and has done wonders with that haughty
+condescension of his wherewith he was wont to charm the hearts of such
+people. Truyn has been enlightened by his political friends as to the
+state of Bohemian affairs, and Oswald has been cordially congratulated
+by every one. He is one of those universally popular men before whom
+even envy and malice lower their weapons. His career has been hitherto
+like the triumphal march of a young king--let him but appear, and lo!
+an illumination, and flowers strewed before him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After the election Truyn went to dine at the chief restaurant in
+Prague with some friends whom he had met for the first time for
+years;--Georges, Pistasch, and Oswald with the indifference of youth
+took their lunch at 'The Black Horse,' whither they went from the
+station. Then Georges departed to revive old associations in various
+quarters of ancient Prague. Oswald's father had been wont to pass his
+winters in Vienna, but his younger, poorer brother had his winter
+quarters in the comparatively humble Moldavian town. Georges looked up
+the confectioner who had been his first creditor, wandered dreamily
+through the gray precincts of the public school where he had studied
+for two years, after his tutors could do nothing more for him, walked
+across the picturesque Carl's bridge to the Lesser-town, the hoary old
+Lesser-town, the home of the aristocracy of Prague, cowering in pious
+veneration at the feet of the Kaiserburg, like a grey-haired child who
+still believes in fairy stories. There, in one of the angular,
+irregular squares, just opposite two tall narrow church windows, stood
+the small palace where Georges passed his boyhood, and which his father
+finally sold to a wealthy vinegar manufacturer. He scarcely recognised
+it again. The old stucco ornamentation had been painted a staring red;
+and a dealer in hams and sausages had his shop in the lower story.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Tempera mutantur!</i>&quot; muttered Georges.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">In a spacious room, tolerably cool, the shades all drawn down, the
+furniture consisting of dim misty mirrors in shabby gilt frames, of
+cupboards with brass hinges, and of green velvet chairs and sofas,
+Oswald lay back, in an arm-chair, laughing heartily at Pistasch's
+account of a late adventure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Pistasch went to one of the three windows, and drawing the shade half
+up looked out into the street.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The front of 'The Black Horse' looks out on the <i>Graben</i>, the <i>Corso</i>
+of Prague.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All whom cruel fate had compelled to remain in town during the
+intolerable heat of the season, were lounging about in the late
+afternoon upon the heated pavement of the square.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Students with the genuine High-German swagger, over-dressed misses,
+round-shouldered government clerks, a wretched poodle scratching at his
+muzzle, an officer with jingling sabre, hack drivers, dozing peacefully
+on their boxes while their horses, with forelegs wide apart and heads
+in their nose-bags, dreamed of the 'good old times' when they caracoled
+beneath the spurs of gay young cavalry officers,--those 'good old
+times' whose chief charm for hack horses as for mortals, may perhaps
+consist in the fact that they are irrevocably past.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sultry heat beats down on all, debilitating, oppressive.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How long have you known that Capriani,&quot; Oswald asked his light-hearted
+friend, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I really cannot tell you,&quot; was the reply, &quot;he once did me a favour
+without knowing me, except by sight, and then--then he came to me one
+day with some trifling affairs that he desired I should arrange for
+him, and referred to the former kindness he had shown me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And ever since then you have been upon friendly terms with him?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not quite all that,&quot; replied Pistasch, shrugging his shoulders, &quot;but
+what would you have? He consults me about his horses--his ambition is
+to win at the Derby;--and I consult him about my investments, the
+purchase of stock, etc.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And each overreaches the other?&quot; said Oswald, smiling.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Up to this time I have the advantage,&quot; affirmed Pistasch, &quot;and I have
+a prospect too, of a sinecure as the President of the Grünwald-Leebach
+stock company.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;With which of course you will have nothing to do except to inspire the
+public with confidence, and rake in money,&quot; said Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Incidentally,&quot; Pistasch rejoined calmly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald drummed upon the arms of his chair, sitting erect, and looking
+very grave.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Take care, Pistasch; 'those who lie down with dogs, are sure to get up
+with fleas.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are a reactionary martinet,&quot; growled Pistasch. &quot;Am I the first to
+associate with speculators? Barenfeld, Calmonsky, Hermsdorf--are all
+men very different from myself, but you see their names at the head of
+all kinds of banks and stock companies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Unfortunately;&quot; said Oswald, &quot;that charlatan of a Capriani has
+infected you all--you all want to learn from that gentleman the secret
+of manufacturing gold. But you will learn nothing, and will inevitably
+all burn your fingers. I should think you might take warning from poor
+old Count Malzin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, Malzin was such an unpractical man, he looked at everything from
+an ideal point of view,&quot; replied Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So much the better!&quot; exclaimed Oswald eagerly. &quot;That was why
+throughout the whole business it was his property alone that was
+sacrificed. You cannot imagine the harm done by this dabbling in
+speculation. It undermines our whole social order. We are at best not
+much else than romantic ruins. So long as the ruins can succeed in
+inspiring the public with respect, just so long they may remain
+standing. But let them once lose their prestige, and they will be
+regarded as useless rubbish, and as such be cleared away as soon as
+possible. What preserves us is a strict sense of honour, and a
+contempt for ignoble methods of money getting. Pride without a
+chivalric back-ground is but a shabby characteristic, and if ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some one knocked at the door, and the waiter entering handed Oswald a
+visiting-card.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Le comte</i> Alfred de Capriani,&quot; read Oswald, &quot;it must be for you,&quot; he
+said contemptuously, without noticing the few words written under the
+name, as he tossed the card to Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No,&quot; said the latter, &quot;it is for you--look there--read,--'begs Count
+Lodrin for a brief interview.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Extraordinary presumption!&quot; grumbled Oswald, and then, with a shrug,
+he told the waiter to show the Conte in.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You consent to receive him?&quot; asked Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good Heavens, yes!&quot; replied Oswald, smiling, &quot;he has just done me a
+kindness, my dear Pistasch, and has come for his pay. There are people
+who play the usurer with their kindnesses as well as with their money.
+I will tell you the story by-and-by.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very well. Adieu, for the present; in half an hour I'll come and take
+you to the theatre;--she's not bad,--Giuletta as <i>Gretchen</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Pistasch departed; a minute afterward Capriani entered the room.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">There are two ways of manifesting haughtiness,--that of Count Pistasch,
+and that of Oswald. If Pistasch had to receive an obnoxious visitor, he
+kept his cigar in his mouth, and his hands in his pockets;--Oswald, on
+the other hand, at such times observed the most marked and the most
+frigid politeness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He received Capriani with a slight inclination of the head, and the
+conventional form of greeting, invited him to be seated, and took a
+chair opposite, naturally supposing that the Conte, with business-like
+promptitude, would immediately begin to speak of the purpose of his
+visit;--but no!--the Conte remained mute, only rivetting his large eyes
+upon the young man. Why should Oswald find those eyes so annoying? How
+came it that he seemed to have seen them before in some familiar face?
+There was nothing bad in them--on the contrary at that moment they
+expressed only intense admiration, an expression, however, by no means
+to Oswald's taste. There might be reasons why he should condescend to
+discuss business-matters with Conte Capriani, but he thought it
+entirely unnecessary to subject himself to the Conte's admiration. He
+therefore broke the silence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have done me a great favour,&quot; he began drily, &quot;I shall be glad to
+show my gratitude for it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, such a trifle is not worth mentioning,&quot; said Capriani. &quot;I was
+exceedingly delighted to have a chance to testify the cordial regard
+that I have always entertained for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Quite insane,&quot; thought the young man. Then aloud. &quot;I confess that this
+regard is rather incomprehensible to me,--moreover,--I believe you
+wished to speak with me upon business.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly!&quot; replied Capriani, &quot;but the business was merely a
+pretext,--imagine it,--a pretext for me,--a business-man <i>par
+excellence</i>--to obtain an opportunity of conveying my personal
+sentiments ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The obtrusiveness of these creatures passes all belief,&quot; thought
+Oswald. &quot;I beg you,&quot; he said, &quot;to take into consideration the fact that
+my time is,----unfortunately, not at my own disposal, and that
+consequently it would be well to come to the point. I think I can guess
+the purpose of your visit. Count Malzin informed me not long ago of
+your wishes. They are, so I understand, that I should give my support
+in an application to the government for a railway franchise, or rather
+that the plan of the railway, already projected, should be modified to
+meet your requirements--am I right?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A trifle,--a trifle,&quot; said Capriani taking a compendious map of
+Bohemia out of his pocket and spreading it out upon the table between
+Oswald and himself. &quot;The projected track lies here--and here,&quot; he
+explained drawing his finger along the map.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With something of a frown Oswald attentively followed the course of
+that pudgy, sallow forefinger, saying in an undertone, &quot;Pernik,
+Zwilnek, Minkau,--that track seems to me entirely to conform to the
+present pressing need of the country,--will you now show me the
+alterations that you desire.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Capriani's forefinger began to move again, &quot;Tesin, Schneeburg,
+Barenfeld.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald's face grew dark. &quot;That track would be very disadvantageous for
+the X---- district,&quot; he observed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have estates in X----&quot; said Capriani hastily, and imprudently.
+Cautious and diplomatic as he was in business, his caution could go no
+further than his comprehension of human nature. The circle of his
+experience had hitherto comprised only those human weaknesses in
+manipulating which he had always shown such consummate skill. He had no
+faith in genuine disinterestedness; he held it to be hypocrisy, or, at
+best, only traditional habit,--aristocratic usage. He had no idea of
+how his words grated upon Oswald's sensitive ear. &quot;You have estates in
+X----, Herr Count.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald's lips curled indignantly. &quot;That seems to me a secondary
+consideration,&quot; he rejoined sharply.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not at all,&quot; asserted Capriani, &quot;I would not for the world run counter
+to your interests, I have them almost as near at heart as my own....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That really is....&quot; Oswald began to mutter angrily between his
+teeth,--and then controlling his impatience by an effort, he said
+coldly, lightly tapping the map as he spoke. &quot;A little while ago you
+did me a favour, and it would be a satisfaction to me to testify my
+appreciation of your courtesy as soon as possible, but I think your
+projected alteration of the railway very disadvantageous for the
+country. However, I am quite ready to consult an expert.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The blood of the Cr&#339; sus tingled to his very finger ends. There
+was something profoundly humiliating in Oswald's pale proud face. He
+did not comprehend the young man's moral point of view, he perceived
+only the haughtiness that rang in his words, and it aroused his
+antagonism. Suddenly he remembered,--and there was a kind of bliss in
+the thought,--the pecuniary embarrassments in which Oswald was probably
+involved. This was the only ground upon which he could show
+superiority, and make the young man aware of it. &quot;Consult an expert? an
+empty formality!&quot; he said in a changed, harsh voice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let us be frank--the interests of the country in this whole affair are
+of very little consequence--private interests are at stake--yours and
+mine; I grant that the X---- district will be damaged by the new track,
+but on the other hand Tornow wilt gain immensely. And such trifles are
+not to be despised even by a Count Lodrin,--the track passes
+principally over very unproductive land in your estates my dear Count.
+You have only to name your price for that land, and I am entirely at
+your service.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For a moment there was absolute silence. An angry gleam flashed from
+Oswald's eyes as he fixed them on the Conte.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The ticking of the two men's watches could almost be heard, the
+lounging steps of the passers-by in the street below were distinctly
+audible. At last Oswald said contemptuously and clearly: &quot;The sale of
+my pastures is not of the slightest importance to me in comparison with
+public interests. Moreover, we, you and I, do not speak the same
+language, we might talk together a long time and fail to understand
+each other. Therefore it seems useless to prolong this conversation.&quot;
+With which he arose.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Capriani, however, did not stir, but calmly returned the young man's
+look. Something like triumphant scorn, something that was almost a
+menace shone in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You refuse then to speak a word to the ministry in favour of my
+scheme?&quot; he asked slowly and with a sneer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Decidedly,&quot; replied Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With head slightly thrown back, twisting his watch chain around his
+forefinger, he looked down at the Cr&#339; sus. He was one of the few to
+whom haughtiness is becoming.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Was it possible that Capriani, the least imaginative, the most
+avaricious of men, could succumb to this personal charm?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte suddenly arose, gathered up the map, crushed it together, and
+dashing it on the floor, stamped on it. &quot;I could carry it out, and it
+is my favourite scheme,&quot; he cried, &quot;but what of that, I give it up,
+Alfred Stein can do as he chooses. I throw away millions for your sake!
+For your sake, Count Oswald!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His agitation was terrible and extreme, as he held out both hands to
+the young man.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald angrily retreated a step. Had the man escaped from a lunatic
+asylum?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then the door opened.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, Ossi?&quot; Pistasch called.--&quot;Ah!&quot;--perceiving the Conte--&quot;beg
+pardon for intruding.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Not at all,&quot; said Oswald decisively, without looking at Capriani, &quot;we
+have finished.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte bowed and withdrew. But he turned in the doorway and said,
+&quot;Might I beg you, Herr Count, to carry my remembrances to your honoured
+mother. For although she does not know Conte Capriani--she will surely
+be able to recall Doctor Alfred Stein.&quot; Whereupon he disappeared.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald went to a marble table whereon stood a caraffe of water, and as
+he took it up he met his own glance in the mirror hanging above the
+table. A shudder crept icily over him. He poured out a glass of water,
+and drank it at a draught.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter?&quot; asked Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing,&quot; Oswald replied slowly, and almost dreamily. &quot;Talking with
+that--that scoundrel has agitated me. I feel as if I had just got rid
+of some loathsome reptile.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is smoking allowed, I should like to know?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Three times Pistasch made this impertinent little remark as he gazed
+about him in 'The Temple of National Art.' It was a temporary temple,
+neither unsuitable, nor wanting in taste, but built in the rapid,
+superficial manner of a circus, constructed over night as it were, and
+it was now filled to overflowing with Bohemian lovers of music.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The four gentlemen were sitting in a proscenium box; Truyn and Georges
+in front, Pistasch and Oswald behind them. The opera was Faust, the
+<i>mise en scène</i> was rather primitive, and the tenor had a cold; but the
+principal part was sung by an Italian prima donna who had not only a
+magnificent voice, but also a pair of uncommonly fine eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was during the third <i>entr'acte</i> after the cantatrice had been
+enthusiastically applauded that Pistasch allowed himself the foregoing
+impertinent observation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you want to be turned out?&quot; asked Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I spoke quite innocently, and seriously,&quot; said Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Immediately afterwards he recognised in the next box a young man as a
+certain Doctor of Law, with whom he had been associated a few years
+before on the committee of a charity ball. He extended his hand to him
+round the front of the box, asked respectfully after the health of a
+deaf aunt, and after a talented sister, and even made inquiries about a
+cross cat, a pet of the doctor's, all in faultless idiomatic Bohemian,
+thus establishing his reputation as a thoroughly genial and national
+nobleman.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn looked extremely dignified, repeatedly expressed his great
+pleasure in the progress made by his beloved countrymen, in the course
+of the last fifteen years, as well as in the advancement of the
+national cause. Once during the conversation he attempted to make use
+of the Bohemian idiom, but he only excited the merriment of his
+auditors.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald was pale and silent.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter with you, my boy?&quot; asked Truyn, observing with some
+anxiety, his weary air, and the dark rings round his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am not quite up to the mark,&quot; said Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I hope you're not going to be ill,&quot; remarked Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Bah! He hasn't yet recovered from his conversation with Capriani,&quot;
+said Pistasch. &quot;For my part I cannot understand how you can be in the
+slightest degree affected by what such a man as that says or leaves
+unsaid.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We are not all such philosophers as you,&quot; Georges observed, glancing
+anxiously at his cousin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The door of the box opened--a slender, dark-complexioned man entered.
+&quot;Good evening! How are you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It was Sempaly, younger brother of Prince Sempaly, to attend whose
+marriage he had just returned from the East. He was much tanned and his
+sharp features wore an air of languid weariness. Prince Sempaly had a
+few days previously married Nini Gatinsky. The new-comer was warmly
+welcomed, and then, of course, inquiries were made concerning the
+bridal pair, Truyn declaring his pleasure in their marriage.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It pleases me too, exceedingly,&quot; said Sempaly, with more warmth than
+he was wont to display. &quot;They are both to be congratulated. Nini was
+always a dear creature, and she is prettier now than ever; and a nobler
+character than my brother's I have never known.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One thing however surprises me,&quot; observed Pistasch, the indiscreet,
+looking inquisitively at Sempaly, &quot;your brother has been a widower for
+five years; it cannot be that he has spent all that time in bewailing
+the loss of the Princess. Why did he not grasp his happiness before?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I cannot enlighten you on that point,&quot; replied Sempaly with a shrug.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Truyn said, smiling, &quot;Perhaps it did not depend altogether upon
+Oscar; Nini may possibly have had a voice in the matter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You too are going to have a wedding soon,&quot; said Sempaly, apparently
+desirous of changing the subject. &quot;How these young people are growing
+up! If the resemblance to his mother were not so striking, I should
+hardly recognise your future son-in-law. Let me congratulate you,&quot; and
+he held out his hand to Oswald, &quot;congratulate you most sincerely. And
+how are you at home?&quot; he added, turning suddenly to Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All well,&quot; Truyn replied a little stiffly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pray, carry to your wife and daughter the regards of--one who shall be
+nameless,&quot; said Sempaly with bitterness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A short pause ensued; then he began, &quot;What do you think of Seinsberg's
+suicide?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Suicide?&quot; exclaimed Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you not know it?&quot; asked Sempaly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I suspected something of the kind,&quot; said Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What was the cause of it?&quot; asked Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Too intimate an acquaintance with the Conte Capriani?&quot; surmised
+Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You have about hit the nail on the head, Pistasch,&quot; said Sempaly,
+turning his back to the stage and speaking towards the interior of the
+box. &quot;It is terrible to think how many of us have fallen victims in
+quick succession to the rage for speculation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is all over with us!&quot; said Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do have done with that eternal refrain of yours,&quot;' said Truyn
+indignantly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, Georges agrees with me, and even Ossi seems to be infected with
+our disheartening ideas,&quot; rejoined Pistasch, &quot;he declared to-day that
+we were nothing but romantic ruins.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, the ruins in Austria stand firm;&quot; rejoined Truyn, always the same
+reactionary idealist, &quot;of course we must consider how to adapt the
+ancient structure to the needs of the age.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you think so?&quot; said Sempaly, twirling his moustache. &quot;Would you
+turn the Coliseum into a gas-works? For my part I am not greatly in
+favour of the practical adaptation of historical monuments. Bah! leave
+us as we are! The ruins will remain standing for some time yet, and in
+virtue of their time-worn uselessness, will manage to overawe the
+practical modern architecture that is springing up all around them,
+until the next earthquake, and then--crash--&quot; he made a quick,
+characteristic gesture--&quot;and after the downfall those who carp at us
+the most now will perceive how large a share of poetry and civilisation
+lies beneath the wreck. It is all over with us, but what is to come
+hereafter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is to come hereafter? That is easy enough to foretell;&quot; said
+Georges quietly, &quot;the universal dominion of the Caprianis!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You do Capriani by far too much honour,&quot; rejoined Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do not be too sure,&quot; said Sempaly, &quot;he is more dangerous than you
+imagine. It makes me fairly shudder to see how he encroaches upon us,
+how he hates us, and how much mischief he can do us.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish I knew how he contrived to scrape together so much money in so
+short a time,&quot; sighed Pistasch plaintively.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have heard that like Sulla, and various other great men, he owes his
+rapid success to the fostering protection of the other sex;--they say
+he has had immense good fortune in that direction, and in spheres where
+it was least to be expected,&quot; said Sempaly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What! such a low cad as he!&quot; The elegant Pistasch shrugged his
+shoulders incredulously.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well--&quot; Sempaly gazed into space in a characteristic way; then still
+twirling his moustache he said with a melancholy cynicism all his own:
+&quot;There are certain clumsy night-moths who are strangely skilled in
+brushing the dew from weary flowers in sultry nights.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald, who had been bestowing but a languid attention upon
+the conversation, now exclaimed angrily, &quot;I detest such vague
+imputations,--no one has any right to sully the fame of a number of
+unknown women by a suspicion that--that--&quot; Confused by Sempaly's
+surprised, searching glance, he stopped short.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is he thinking of?&quot; asked Sempaly, looking round at the others.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A betrothed lover cannot tolerate any aspersion cast upon the fair
+sex,&quot; said Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;<i>Qu'a cela ne tienne</i>,&quot; rejoined Sempaly, &quot;the betrothed of Gabrielle
+Truyn ought to be above such sensitiveness. Gabrielle comes from the
+corner of the earth, which Love Divine sheltered beneath angels' wings,
+when the devil showered his poison over all creation. Happy he who
+meets with such a girl!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You do not know her,&quot; said Truyn, whose eyes, nevertheless, sparkled
+with gratified paternal pride.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I knew her as a child,&quot; said Sempaly slowly, &quot;and I know who completed
+her education.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For a moment they were all silent, and then Truyn began, &quot;I must tell
+you a delicious bit of gossip, Sempaly;--only fancy, in the spring, in
+Paris, Capriani, one fine day, sent that goose, Zoë Melkweyser, to sue
+for Gabrielle's hand! What do you think of that?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Incredible!&quot; exclaimed Sempaly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Was it not?&quot; said Truyn, who took special delight in recounting this
+tale, and turning to Oswald, he went on, &quot;Our Gabrielle and a son of
+Capriani,--was there ever such a joke?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Oswald was silent.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You seem inclined to take your rival extremely tragically,&quot; rallied
+Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;This is the tenth time, at least, that I have heard the story,&quot; said
+Oswald angrily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You'll have an irritable son-in-law, Truyn, at all events,&quot; interposed
+Sempaly with a sneer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At this moment Pistasch, whose rage for popularity was always on the
+alert, called out over the heads of Sempaly and Truyn, &quot;Good evening,&quot;
+to a tall, red-haired young man who had slowly made his way to the
+front of the pit. With delight in his eyes and a succession of nods,
+the red-head acknowledged the greeting.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who is that?&quot; asked Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The surveyor's clerk who assisted at the polls to-day--an old
+acquaintance of mine,&quot; said Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald's glance fell upon the red-head. He had recognised in the man at
+the polls the same whom he had struck in the face with his riding-whip,
+in the dingy little inn-parlour. The encounter in the morning had made
+no impression upon him, but now....</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good Heavens, how ill you look!&quot; exclaimed Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I feel wretchedly,&quot; said Oswald in a forced voice, putting his hand to
+his head, &quot;do not let me disturb you, I will go home.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You make me anxious, my boy,&quot; said Truyn, &quot;wait a moment, and I will
+go with you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, pray uncle, it is really not worth the trouble, I can easily
+find a fiacre,&quot; remonstrated Oswald, in a strained unnatural voice. But
+Truyn, always anxious about those dear to him, could not be deterred
+and the two left the box together.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter with Lodrin to-night?&quot; asked Sempaly as he took
+Truyn's seat. &quot;I could not understand him. Eight years ago, when I saw
+him last, in Vienna, he was such a bright, merry fellow....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well--&quot; and Pistasch drew a long breath, &quot;he is just beginning to
+suffer from the Phylloxera.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges replied to Sempaly's further inquiries, for Pistasch had become
+absorbed in an endeavour by sundry little grimaces to put out of
+countenance the Siebel of the performance, who was skipping awkwardly
+about the stage in boots much too tight. In this interesting amusement
+Pistasch forgot all else beside.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You really do not know what you wish,&quot; said Truyn in surprise when
+Oswald changed his mind for the third time about leaving Prague. After
+going with Truyn to the races on the first day succeeding the election,
+he would not hear of attending them with Georges and Pistasch on the
+second day. It was settled that he was to return home with Truyn; then
+he began to waver and fidget, and at last he telegraphed,
+countermanding the carriage that had been ordered to meet him, and got
+up a sudden interest in the horses of the Y---- stud which were to race
+for the first time. Before long, however, this interest subsided, and
+to Truyn's great surprise Oswald informed him at a moment's notice,
+that after all he was going home with him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You will send me over to Tornow, uncle--or shall I telegraph for the
+horses?&quot; asked Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good Heavens, no! You can spend an hour with us, at Rautschin and take
+a cup of tea, and then I will send you home, you whimsical fellow,
+you,&quot; replied his uncle, and so they drove together through the quiet
+summer morning to the station.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The streets were deserted except by the street sweepers, with their
+watering-pots busily laying the dust. The wheels of the hack rumbled
+noisily over the uneven pavement past brilliant cafés and shop windows,
+finally by the fine new National Bohemian Theatre, until their sound
+was deadened by the wooden planks of the Suspension Bridge. As usual
+the bridge is undergoing repairs; and this delays the hack, which, in
+addition is impeded by a battalion of infantry and two lumbering ox
+carts; there is a strong smell of mouldy planks, and hot pitch, by no
+means adding to the fragrance of the morning air. But these trifling
+annoyances cannot provoke Truyn, or destroy his pleasure in gazing on
+his native town.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Moldau, slaty grey in hue, with silvery reflections, flows among
+its green, feathery islands, and, parallel with the modern suspension
+monstrosity, the mediaeval Königsbridge, picturesque, and clumsy,--the
+statues on its broad balustrade black with age like the primitive
+illustrations in some old Chronicle,--spans the stream with its solemn
+arches.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Kaiserburg, surrounded by haughty palaces with an unfinished gothic
+cathedral, looks down from the summit of the Hradschin, upon its image
+mirrored in the water in waving lines, and columns tinged with green.
+The morning sun glows on the five red glass stars before the green St.
+John on the Karlsbridge, and far away on the left and right, far into
+the receding distance, until all objects are mellowed and blent,
+stretch the banks of the river like a long drawn symphony of colour
+dying away in palest violet.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;After all, it is a fine, a magnificent city!&quot; exclaimed Truyn with
+enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pistasch said yesterday that Prague was a dismal hole,&quot; was Oswald's
+reply, &quot;you may both be right--it all depends upon how you look at it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The phrase falls keen and chilling upon Truyn's enthusiasm, like ice
+into boiling water. Surprised, and well nigh irritated, he turned to
+his future son-in-law. As, however, he is far less sensitive than
+good-natured, a glance at Oswald converts irritation into eager
+compassion: &quot;I wonder where you can have caught it?&quot; he sighed, shaking
+his head.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good Heavens, what?&quot; asked Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I wish I knew,&quot; said Truyn, &quot;either intermittent fever or a slight
+touch of jaundice,--for a man of your age and with your constitution
+there's no cause for alarm, but your mother will reproach me with your
+looking so ill!&quot; Then Truyn leaned out of the window of the hack to
+admire the Hradschin once more, before subsiding into a corner with a
+sigh of content, and lighting a cigar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald's nature is certainly as poetic as Truyn's, and never before had
+he driven over the suspension bridge, on a summer's morning, without
+revelling in the beauty of the Bohemian capital. But to-day everything
+is metamorphosed, beauty is ugliness. For him the world within two days
+had undergone a transformation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The human mind is like a mirror, upon the quality whereof depends the
+character of the reflection in its depths; in one mirror all things are
+reflected yellow, in another green, in a third every line is vague,
+shadowy and undecided; one shows objects lengthened, another broadened,
+and should the mirror be cracked, everything that it reflects will be
+distorted.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Zinka and Gabrielle were at the railway station to meet Truyn, both
+gay, cordial and surpassingly lovely. The sight of them, and their
+merry talk at first brightened Oswald's mood. But suddenly at tea,
+which on the travellers' account was a substantial meal, a wretched
+sense of discomfort attacked him anew.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As he had often laughingly boasted of his punctilious fulfilment of any
+commission from a lady, Gabrielle, before he left for Prague, had
+entrusted to him, to have repaired, a gold clasp of Hungarian
+workmanship set with rare, coloured stones.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When at the table she asked him, &quot;How about my clasp--did you bring it
+with you, or is the jeweller to send it?&quot; he started, saying, &quot;Forgive
+me, I forgot all about it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gabrielle stared--&quot;Forgot--my commission?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good Heavens! I am not the only man who ever forgot anything!&quot;
+exclaimed Oswald irritably.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was the first unkind word he had ever uttered to his betrothed.
+Astonished and grieved she cast down her eyes. But Truyn, who, as long
+as Oswald was well and merry, was continually finding fault with him,
+being now seriously concerned about the young man's health took his
+part.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have a little patience with him, comrade,&quot; said he to his daughter,
+&quot;he is not well,--look at him, a man who looks as he does must not be
+scolded. When he is himself again we will both scold him roundly.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Forgive me, Ella,&quot; entreated Oswald humbly, holding out his hand to
+her. &quot;I have an intolerable headache, uncle. Please have the carriage
+brought round, I must go home.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The road from Rautschin castle to Tornow goes directly through the
+village, across the market-place, and past the inn, 'The Rose.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Involuntarily Oswald glanced towards the unpretending front of the
+tavern. Conceited and bedizened, with a dirty coat, and with bare feet
+thrust into morocco slippers down at the heel, the same waiter is
+standing in the doorway, just as he stood there on that rainy afternoon
+in spring, when Oswald took refuge in the inn-parlour.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Was everything to be forever reminding him of that odious scene?--In
+Prague he had fancied that he should soon be able to shake off the
+hateful sensation produced by the interview with Capriani, just as we
+all overcome the nervous shudder, caused by some revolting spectacle.
+But no! for three days it had lasted and he could not rid himself of
+it,--on the contrary this hateful sensation was growing more defined.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course he did not frame his suspicion in words, he was ashamed of
+it; he called it an <i>idée fixe</i>, resulting from nervous irritability
+still remaining from a slight sunstroke which he had had the year
+before, but for all that, he could not away with it. Countless memories
+of trifling events, dating from earliest childhood, crowded upon his
+mind, all pointing, with a sneer, one way. There was a lump in his
+throat, a weight as of lead upon his heart; the pain waxed more and
+more intolerable. He could have leaped out of the carriage and have
+flung himself down in the road with his face in the very dust, in an
+agony of shame and horror!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For the first time in his life he was reluctant to go home; he was
+afraid of meeting his mother. There was a kind of relief in the thought
+that she was not expecting him, and would not come to meet him. He
+clinched his hands tightly, and gazed abroad, striving by the sight of
+distinct, familiar objects, to exorcise the evil phantoms that
+possessed his soul. But everything that his eyes beheld was stamped
+with ugliness and dejection. The leaves on the trees were limp and
+dusty. The grain, lodged by the storms, lay on the ground, half rotted
+in its own luxuriance. The farmers could recall no former year so rich
+in promise, so poor in fulfilment.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When at length he reached the castle, he could hardly bring himself to
+ask after his mother, or to go and look for her. How could he, while
+his mind was filled with such vile abomination? He went up to his room,
+where the first object that met his eyes was the white death-mask upon
+the wall. He grew dizzy, a black, crimson-edged cloud seemed to rise
+before him; he flung open the window,--the air cooled by the sunset,
+and laden with the fragrance of flowers, played about him, and
+refreshed him,--he breathed more freely.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then a soft, gentle sound fell upon his ear--his mother's voice!
+He shivered nervously from head to foot. How sweet, how noble was that
+voice!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So, so, old friend; fine, good Darling! Bravo, old dog, bravo!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">These words spoken with caressing tenderness, reached him through the
+silence. He leaned out of the window--there she sat in a large wicker
+garden-chair, playing with his Newfoundland, that, with huge forepaws
+upon her lap, was looking familiarly into her face. Her full, elegant
+figure, about which some soft, black material fell in graceful folds,
+stood out against the background of a clump of pale purple phlox in
+luxuriant bloom. Oswald watched her in silence; the beautiful placid
+expression of her features, the rich harmony of her voice, the tender
+grace of her movements, as she passed her hands lovingly over the
+dog's head and neck,--all appealed to him. He never could tire of
+watching those hands. So slender and delicate that a girl of eighteen
+might have coveted them, there was something more about them than mere
+physical beauty, something clinging, pathetic, which is never found
+in the hands of young girls or of childless women. They were true
+mother-hands,--hands with an innate genius for soothing caresses;
+Oswald recalled the time when he had been extremely ill, and those
+delicate, white hands had tended him day and night with untiring
+patience and unsurpassable skill;--he could even yet feel their touch
+upon his suffering, weary limbs.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And this saint,--his mother, his glorious, incomparable mother,--he had
+presumed to sully by such vile suspicions! He, her son!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Without another thought he hurried down into the park. He saw her at a
+distance. The dog was lying quiet at her feet; she sat with hands
+clasped in her lap, and in her half-closed eyes there lay the look of
+the visionary, dim or far-seeing, always beholding more, or less than
+the actual. The dog heard his master's step and began to wag his tail,
+then rose, barking with joy, and ran to meet Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ossi!&quot; and the Countess opened her arms to him. Not even from his
+betrothed had he ever heard a tone of welcome so fervent, and as his
+mother clasped him close, and kissed him, he felt as if God Himself had
+laid His hand upon his sore heart and healed it. Gone were all his evil
+surmises, all fled, leaving only a sensation of angry self-reproach.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are a day sooner than you said,&quot; she exclaimed, kissing him
+affectionately. &quot;Well, I shall not complain, I am a few hours richer
+than I thought.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How so, mamma?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do you not understand? Do you really not yet know that I am counting
+the thirty-three days before your marriage--the last days that I shall
+have you to myself--and that to each one as it goes, I bid a sad
+farewell? Let me look at you,--my poor child, how you have come back to
+me! you look as if you had had an illness.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have felt miserably, really wretchedly ever since I went away,&quot; he
+admitted, speaking slowly and without looking at her. &quot;Uncle Erich
+diagnosed either the jaundice or intermittent fever, but it does not
+amount to anything, I am well again.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You do not look so,&quot; said the Countess, shaking her head. &quot;Take an
+arm-chair, that seat is very uncomfortable.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had seated himself upon a low stool at her feet.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, no, mamma,&quot; he replied smiling, &quot;this seat is all right, and now
+tell me of what you were thinking as I came towards you. Your thoughts
+must have been very pleasant!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Must you know everything,&quot; she replied gaily, &quot;I had no thoughts,--my
+dreams....&quot; she patted him lightly on the cheek and whispered--&quot;were of
+my grandchildren.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed? Perfectly reconciled, then, to my marriage?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We must learn to acquiesce in the inevitable, and--and--it really
+would be delightful to have a chubby little Ossi, in miniature, to pet,
+and cosset.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He did not speak, but leaned a little forward and pressed the hem of
+her gown to his lips.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You goose!&quot; she remonstrated; but when he raised his head she
+perceived that his eyes were filled with tears. &quot;What is the matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A momentary weakness, as you see,&quot; he said with forced gaiety; adding
+earnestly,--&quot;I am not ashamed of it before you. Of the evil that is in
+us, we are more ashamed before those whom we love than before all the
+rest of the world; but of our weaknesses we are ashamed only before
+those to whom we are indifferent!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Paler and paler grow the blossoms of the sweet rocket, sweeter and
+sweeter their fragrance rises aloft, like a mute prayer,--twilight
+hovers over the meadows and the leafy summits of the lindens grow
+black. The quiet air is stirred by the village bells ringing the
+Angelus. The Countess folded her hands,--of late years she has grown
+devout. Oswald is overcome by intense lassitude, the lassitude that
+follows the sudden relaxation of nervous tension in men upon whom
+severe physical exertion has no effect.--He lays his head upon his
+mother's knee, and recalls the time when, only twenty years old, and
+smarting under a severe disappointment, he had taken refuge there. Then
+he had lain his head upon her lap, and sleep, wooed in vain through
+feverish nights, had fallen on him.--He remembers how, regardless of
+her own discomfort, she had let him sleep there for hours, never
+moving, lest he should be disturbed. And how many other instances of
+her love and self-sacrifice fill his memory! She strokes his hair, and
+for a moment he wishes he might die, thus, now, and here,--yes, it
+would be far better, a hundredfold better to die thus at her feet, his
+heart filled with filial adoration, than to have to live down again the
+anguish of the last three days.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>BOOK FOURTH.</h2>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">After all, what had induced Conte Capriani to spend his summer in
+Austria? His wife and his children were unutterably bored in their
+exile, and he--he was consumed with secret chagrin. He had intended to
+astound the earth whereon he had once run barefoot, but nothing had
+fulfilled his expectations, absolutely nothing. The Austrian climate
+did not agree with him, decidedly not. Instead of the intoxicating
+consciousness of triumph wherein he had hoped to revel, he was
+tormented, from morning until night, by a sensation of rasping
+humiliation. His arrogance sickened, shrivelled up; even his
+possessions suddenly seemed to him insignificant. His wealth was, to be
+sure, more easily convertible into cash, more available than that of
+the Austrian aristocrats. But what availed his airy, fleeting millions
+compared with these well-nigh indestructible possessions, rooted for
+centuries in native soil?</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Many, many years before, on a muddy road the sides of which were
+spotted with patches of dirty snow fast melting in the early spring,
+little Alfred Stein had run behind a high old-fashioned green coach
+hung on spiral springs, and had tried to steal a ride on the hind axle.
+The bearded coachman--a stout, patriarchal coachman with a broad fur
+collar--looked back, saw him, and snapped his whip at him, so sharply
+that the boy, frightened, let go the axle, and fell off into a puddle.
+A chubby child, at the carriage window, leaned far out to see him, and
+laughed, without any malice, loud and heartily, as all healthy children
+laugh at anything comical. But rage seized young Alfred, and when he
+could do it unobserved, he clenched his fist, and shook it at the
+carriage.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At that time his envy did not reach higher than to a green coach, with
+a stately fur-clad coachman who could cut at all barefoot boys who were
+clinging on behind. How many miles his envy had travelled since then,
+how many ragamuffins his coachman had since then whipped off from his
+carriages, and yet at times it seemed to him that in reality he had not
+gained a step since that warm damp day in spring, when he had fallen
+into the puddle, and had been laughed at by the saucy little boy.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The child of poor parents, his extraordinary beauty had attracted the
+notice of a Bohemian Countess, who oddly enough was the owner of that
+same green coach. He was the best scholar in the village school, and
+the Countess befriended him. He became the playmate of her proud,
+good-natured, indolent children. By-and-by he shared their lessons, and
+his progress was remarkable. He was patted on the shoulder, his
+diligence was commended, and at last, by dint of flattery and
+servility, he obtained the means to study in Vienna. The years of his
+student life were most wretched. He possessed neither the dullness nor
+the imagination that can make poverty tolerable, but his were the
+endurance and the cunning that overcome poverty. Averse to no secret
+infamy, he, nevertheless made a parade of morality, and was an adept in
+what a witty Frenchman calls <i>le charlatanisme du désintéressement</i>.
+Although a Sybarite by nature, and susceptible to all physical
+enjoyment, the instant that the attainment of his aims was at stake, he
+became a pattern of abstinence. He knew how to allow himself to be
+heaped with benefits, without acquiring the reputation of a parasite on
+the one hand or of a man who used his friends without any show of
+gratitude on the other.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From the outset of his career he owed his success, not alone to his
+personal beauty, but to his faculty for intuitively detecting the evil
+propensities of others, and for privately pandering to them, yet always
+preserving a show of indulgent charity withal. His medical practise
+opened to him the doors of certain social circles which would else
+probably have been forever closed to him. He practised medicine for a
+while at fashionable watering places, and he had many distinguished
+patients among the fair sex; at last, however, his marriage to a rich
+Russian girl relieved him from the necessity of pursuing his
+profession, and led his speculative mind into other paths.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His wife's fortune, however, was soon but a small part of that which he
+accumulated and added to it. Always restless, often unprincipled, he
+heaped up his millions, seeming fairly to conjure money out of other
+men's pockets. His greed of gain was no petty passion, there was in it
+something of the heroic. Wealth was not his end, but a means to his
+end, a weapon,--power.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In Paris this power had not failed him, but in Austria no one was
+dazzled by it except those towards whom he felt utterly indifferent.
+Day by day he grew more irritable, more bitter; what did his millions
+avail with these Austrian aristocrats who, had, with indolent elegance
+dragged after them for centuries, in spite of all levelling tendencies
+of any age, the burden of their ancient traditions--called by the
+Liberals prejudices--and who had grown weary at last of justifiable
+carping at their official and unofficial prerogatives, and had taken
+refuge upon an island as it were of determined exclusiveness, where,
+entrenched as behind the wall of China, they loftily ignored all the
+revolutionary hubbub around them.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had succeeded in much, why should he not succeed in making a breach
+in this wall of China? This was the aim of all his efforts. He was one
+of those who would fain destroy what they cannot attain. By a thousand
+enticing temptations he had striven to arouse the avarice of the <i>Right
+Honourables</i>, as he called them, that the base, degrading greed of gain
+might bruise the strict sense of honour that was like a 'hoop of gold
+to bind in' Austrian exclusiveness. To brand an aristocrat as a
+swindler would be a keener joy than to make him a beggar.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He had hitherto had only a few petty triumphs in this direction, but he
+was too ambitious, too clear-sighted to be contented in the long run
+with these trifling victories.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">One consciousness of terrible import to others had at times afforded
+Capriani some consolation, but of late even this consciousness had lost
+somewhat of its soothing charm.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When, after his return from Prague, Kilary had asked him, with a sneer,
+if he had really succeeded in twisting Oswald Lodrin around his finger
+the Conte had replied with some embarrassment, &quot;We have not done with
+each other yet, but I rather think that what I said to him will have an
+effect.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And while he was making private marks with coloured pencils upon his
+business letters, or telegraphic despatches which arrived in large
+numbers for him every day, he repeated to himself, again and again: &quot;It
+will have an effect!&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">It is evening in the drawing-room at Tornow, and the air breathes soft
+and fragrance-laden through the open window; the monotonous chirp of
+the crickets sounds loud and shrill as if to drown the sweet plaint of
+the nightingale. Beyond the circle of light cast by the lamps more than
+half of the spacious room is quite dark.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess Lodrin is bending over an embroidery frame, busied in
+working the Zinsenburg crest upon a hassock; Oswald, Georges, and
+Pistasch, who, when the races were over had accepted an invitation to
+come to Tornow with Georges, are eagerly discussing a false start.
+Oswald, the quietest of the three, glances from time to time at his
+mother.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He has, to be sure, succeeded in shaking off his ugly <i>idée fixe</i>, and
+in regaining his former cheerfulness; but yet, by fits and starts, he
+is assailed by a paralysing sensation of dread. Then he takes refuge
+with his mother; by her side the odious fancies have no power. There
+are times when he is possessed by a wild impulse to deliver Capriani's
+message, to ask his mother whether she ever really knew Doctor Stein
+and to watch the effect; but at the critical moment his heart has
+always failed him, and he has been ashamed of yielding even thus much
+to his disgraceful weakness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When they have exhausted the false start, Georges and Pistasch enter
+upon a discussion of the best method of shoeing horses. This
+interesting topic absorbs them so entirely that neither perceives that
+for several minutes the Countess has been searching for something which
+she has mislaid,--finally even stooping to look for it on the floor. It
+is Oswald who rises and asks, &quot;What are you looking for, mamma?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A strand of scarlet silk.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The two gentlemen of course feel it their duty to offer their services,
+but too late; Oswald has already picked up the silk. This trifling
+diversion, however, puts a stop to the sporting talk.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mimi Dey came to see me this morning; I asked her to dine with us on
+Thursday.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is Elli Rhoeden coming too?&quot; asked Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If I am not mistaken she has gone to Kreuznach,&quot; observed Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; said the Countess, &quot;unfortunately we cannot depend upon her, but
+you will probably enjoy the society of Fräulein von Klette. Mimi will
+do her best to make her stay at home, but she cannot promise.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Is she living still,--that Spanish fly?&quot; asked Georges, surprised.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed she is, and with the same enormous appetite,&quot; Pistasch calmly
+declared, &quot;I believe she is qualifying herself for the post of Minister
+of Finance; her talent for levying taxes is more brilliantly developed
+every year. Unfortunately her sphere of action is limited to the circle
+of her most intimate friends.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It appears that she has just embarked in a novel and very interesting
+financial enterprise,&quot; remarked the Countess with a smile, &quot;she is
+raffling a sofa cushion.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, that famous negro head,&quot; observed Pistasch, &quot;she has been working
+at it for two years, and she issues a fresh batch of chances every
+three months.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Before I forget it,&quot; said the Countess half to herself, &quot;would you not
+like to write to Fritz to come to dinner day after to-morrow, Ossi? we
+shall be entirely by ourselves. He will feel at home, and I am always
+glad to entice him to forget his sorrows, if only for a few hours.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I paid him a visit yesterday,&quot; said Georges, &quot;he is going down hill
+very fast in health. He asked eagerly after you, Ossi, and mentioned
+that he had not seen you for a long while.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ossi avoids Schneeburg, for fear of an encounter with the <i>Phylloxera
+vastatrix</i> who, as he prophesies, is to be the ruin of us all,&quot; said
+Pistasch banteringly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald had risen to light a cigarette at the lamp; his hand trembled a
+little. &quot;I will write to Fritz, mamma,&quot; he said, &quot;I am afraid I have
+rather neglected him of late.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Our poor Count Fritz is going fast,&quot; said old Doctor Swoboda every
+time that he returned from Schneeburg to Rautschin and stopped at the
+inn to drink a glass of beer; this time he remarked it to Herr
+Alexander Cibulka, who always took a lively interest in Schneeburg.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, indeed? Well, he has not much to lose in this life,&quot; rejoined
+Eugène Alexander, &quot;if I had to depend for my living upon alms, as he
+does, I'd put a bullet through my brains!&quot; and Herr Cibulka ran his
+stubby fingers through his bushy hair. He was very proud of such
+unfeeling expressions, which he considered, Heaven only knows why, as
+particularly fashionable. &quot;And how is the Conte Capriani?&quot; he
+continued, &quot;and the charming Ad'lin,--a superb creature, eh?&quot; and
+Eugène Alexander affectedly wafted abroad a kiss from his finger tips.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't know,&quot; growled the old doctor, &quot;I don't associate with them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, true,&quot; said Herr Cibulka compassionately, &quot;I quite forgot, you do
+not associate with them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Eugène Alexander Cibulka was the only man among the <i>haute volée</i> of
+the market-town who had enjoyed the honour of an invitation from
+Capriani. The invitation,--there was but one,--was to a <i>déjeûner</i>, and
+inspired him with not a little pride. He described it as a most
+memorable, 'brilliant episode,' in his monotonous existence, and he
+celebrated it in lyric phrases. What had so charmed him it would be
+hard to tell; Madame Capriani had found it impossible to understand
+him, although she had good-humouredly tried to do so,--his sentences
+were so interlarded with compliments,--and consequently she was obliged
+to confine herself to phrases of conventional courtesy; Adeline had
+spoken only in French, which of course excluded him from conversation
+with her, and when he picked up her handkerchief she thanked him as
+haughtily as if she resented his not presenting it on a salver; the
+Conte had urged him to partake of the various dishes, ringing the
+changes upon one invariable theme. &quot;You had better take some--you don't
+get such a chance every day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Modern culture had certainly treated him ill, but all the more was he
+convinced of its immense superiority. There was but one adjective that
+in his opinion, could in any wise fitly characterize the new household
+at Schneeburg, and that was, 'Sublime!'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Two years previously, in old Malzin times, he had also on some occasion
+or other dined at Schneeburg. The old Count had received him with
+distinguished, though formal, courtesy, had insisted upon his preceding
+him into the dining-hall, and had taken great pains to find subjects
+for conversation that should not exclude his guest. He had been very
+much better treated at Schneeburg then,--but no raptures came of it. On
+the contrary he had declared, with a shrug, that Count Malzin's style
+of living was very 'middle-class,'--that it was a pity too, that the
+Count spoke so low that it was difficult to understand him, and that
+really there had not been enough to eat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In spite of the old Count's courtesy and of the simplicity of the
+dinner, Cibulka had somehow on that occasion been keenly sensible of
+the gulf between himself and the master of Schneeburg, and it seemed to
+him now that Capriani's millions had avenged him of the affront caused
+by the personal superiority of the former possessor of the Castle; this
+delighted him. It flattered his self-importance to hear Capriani--no
+one knew why,--call Castle Schneeburg a little hunting box, nothing but
+a hunting box, and then to hear him say: &quot;Oh, Malzin, <i>apropos</i>, did
+you write to the saddler? You must make haste--indeed you are very
+dilatory!&quot; And then, when Fritz had departed, to have the Cr&#339; sus
+suddenly turn to him, to Cibulka, and remark confidentially, &quot;that
+fellow, Malzin, is really an incumbrance, but what can one do?--he must
+be provided for.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Eugène Alexander, a despicable specimen of a despicable class,
+servilely rubbed his hands, and murmured, &quot;The Herr Count is most
+generous, but indeed that is an easy matter for the Herr Count. Poor
+devil! I really am sorry for Malzin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Poor devil indeed! The old doctor was right, Fritz was going fast.
+Every afternoon at the same hour he had a high fever,--he looked
+like a ghost. In speaking he had a habit of contracting his underlip,
+which gave to his face the hard, pain-begotten lines with which the
+pre-Raphalites portrayed the dying Christ. Ready at any minute to drop
+from fatigue, he was yet driven forth by constant restlessness to go
+dragging over forest and field, obliged at ever-lessening intervals to
+rest upon a stile, or upon the steps of some way-side cross. There he
+would sit gazing abroad and repeating to himself, with the exaggerated
+appreciation that men always cherish for that of which they are
+deprived, that Schneeburg was the finest estate in Bohemia. When he
+strode through the golden stubble fields, the reapers would gather
+about him and with many a merry, kindly word encircle his limbs, in
+accordance with an ancient Bohemian custom, with wreaths of straw. He
+would respond with some friendly jest, and purchase his release by a
+gratuity more in accordance with his former means than with his present
+circumstances.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The people were still loyal to him, to the peasants and day labourers
+he was always &quot;<i>Our</i> Herr Count.&quot; Whenever he appeared among them they
+ran to him, kissed his hands, and invoked countless blessings upon him.
+There had been a time when he protested impatiently against these
+rather obtrusive demonstrations, but now he took pleasure in them. He
+knew the people almost all by name, and frequently talked with them,
+when to be sure they never failed to make some complaint against their
+new master, under whom in point of fact they were very well off; but
+they none the less complained of him just to please their Herr Count.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But though the peasants and labourers were thus loyal to him, the new
+servants and superintendants showed no such respect. The Conte had not
+retained in Schneeburg a single one of the former servants; he had
+dismissed them all without pensions. The knowledge of this had added
+bitterness to the old Count's last moments. He had interceded for his
+people, and when he could obtain nothing save vague promises, he had
+intended to use his influence elsewhere for their protection, but death
+had intervened and put an end to his good intentions. Probably none of
+the dismissed were worth much--the housekeeping at the Castle had been
+slipshod and easy-going,--all things had been allowed to take their own
+course. No provision for the old servants had been included in the
+original contract when they were first hired, and the income from
+Schneeburg had not been large enough to warrant the reservation of a
+pension fund, but no one had ever been dismissed on account of
+increasing age, or of physical infirmity. Almost all of them had been
+born upon the estate, and had expected to die there. And now, suddenly,
+Schneeburg was 'swept clean' of them, as the Conte expressed it. Some
+of them were plunged into hopeless poverty; Fritz discovered this, and
+the misery of not being able to provide for <i>his</i> people was an added
+pang.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Meanwhile there was a horde of new servants at Schneeburg, all young
+people, with modern ideas, fresh from industrial schools, stocked with
+correct views of their multifarious duties, and with independent
+opinions in politics.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At first, whenever Fritz met them, he greeted them with the kindly
+affability with which he was wont to treat inferiors, but this
+condescension from one in his circumstances seemed to them ridiculous;
+they laughed among themselves at his courtesy. He did not observe this
+for some time, and when he did so he simply took no notice of the
+menials. They however continued to ridicule him, and to clear away,
+pull down, and alter ruthlessly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Whilst Fritz sat wearied and worn in his gloomy room, among his shabby
+relics, teaching his little daughter French, or his boy the alphabet,
+he could hear the thud of the falling stones, as the time-honoured
+out-buildings were being demolished, and every sound struck a direct
+blow at his poor, sore, foolish heart.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte's behaviour towards him daily grew more intolerable,
+especially ever since his return from the election. Every petty
+disappointment was wreaked upon Fritz. Of course! Fritz was the only
+member 'of the caste' upon whom the Conte could vent his anger. His
+brutalities Fritz could endure, but what outraged him beyond measure
+was to have the Conte assume an air of frankness, and behind the
+mask of friendly interest presume to ask all sorts of personal
+questions,--the bitterest of pills for Malzin!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh Heavens, how long am I to be in gaining the summit of Calvary?&quot; the
+poor fellow sometimes asked himself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">To-day he had been visited by a ray of light, emanating from the
+cordial, affectionate note, in which Oswald invited him to the
+family-dinner at Tornow. &quot;Forgive me for not having seen you for so
+long,&quot; Oswald concluded, &quot;only remember all that I have to do. The
+castle is turned upside down in anticipation of a certain coming event,
+but, nevertheless, we shall be heartily glad to keep you with us for a
+couple of days. But we will discuss this to-morrow.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course Fritz accepted the invitation. He knew that it would bring on
+a scene with his wife--but what, after all, did he care for that? He
+could not but anticipate the morrow with pleasure, and after he had
+dispatched his reply by the Tornow messenger, he walked out into the
+park.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was early in August, and the floods of rain which had fallen in June
+and July had been followed by stifling sultriness. Fritz was both
+stimulated and wearied by the state of the atmosphere, without being
+conscious of any special degree of heat. His disease had made such
+progress that he was subject to chilly sensations, even when the
+thermometer stood very high. As usual, he sought out the most retired
+paths of the park, paths where he felt sure of meeting no one, and of
+being able to indulge unmolested in his customary day-dreams.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He reached a miniature lake, embosomed among proud, old firs, its
+surface glassy as a mirror held aloft by the nixies to the sky. Tall
+reeds with brown heads fringed its shores, and nodded to the white
+waterlilies reposing among their flat, green leaves. Perfect silence
+reigned; not only did the stately firs preserve their customary,
+dignified quiet, but even the leafy trees were too listless to-day to
+exhale their wonted 'murmur mixed with sighs.' Each leaf drooped
+wearily. No bird uttered a note, the stillness was as profound as in
+mid-winter. Nature lay motionless, no audible pulse throbbing, sunk, as
+it seemed, in a mysterious swoon.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz sat down upon a bench rudely constructed of birch boughs, and
+gazed dreamily around. As always when alone, his thoughts reverted to
+the past, and now he smiled at a memory of langsyne. He recalled how as
+a child he had tried here to learn from the gardener's sons how to skip
+pebbles on the surface of the water. He had succeeded but ill; his
+pebbles all sunk directly to the bottom. He remembered too that very
+near this small lake there was once a little hut with a mossgrown,
+shingled roof, resting upon four fir-tree trunks. There the little
+Malzins had played Robinson Crusoe; the hut had been a fort besieged by
+savages. Perhaps it was no longer in existence; Capriani might have had
+it cleared away; Fritz arose to look for it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was still there; he could see the gilt crescent sparkling on the
+gable of the old, shingled roof. As he approached it he heard voices,
+and would have withdrawn, had he not recognized them as those of his
+wife and Capriani. In some irritation he drew nearer, but found nothing
+to justify any interference; Charlotte was sitting busy with some
+sewing, while the Conte was talking to her,--that was all.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When Fritz, with his pale face of disapproval appeared in the doorway
+of the summer-house, an ugly smile passed over the features of the
+Conte. &quot;You come in the nick of time,&quot; Capriani said carelessly, and
+without the least embarrassment. &quot;Sit down, we were just talking about
+you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed? very kind,&quot; murmured Fritz, taking a seat, and glancing rather
+sternly at his wife.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;We were just speaking of your children. Hm, my dear Malzin,&quot;--the
+Conte stroked his long whiskers,--&quot;have you laid by anything for those
+youngsters?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz cast down his eyes. &quot;How could I have done so?&quot; he rejoined in a
+monotone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You certainly might lay by something from your present salary,&quot; the
+Conte said with emphasis.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You seem entirely to forget that I have only had my present salary for
+two months,&quot; said Fritz bluntly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte bit his lip. &quot;Oho!&quot; he exclaimed, &quot;have I offended you again?
+I assure you I mean well, very well by you. Tell me your views with
+regard to the future of your children.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz shrugged his shoulders. &quot;I really have none; the poor things will
+have to shift for themselves,&quot; and his voice trembled.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course you mean then to give them a good education, to enable them
+to earn their own living,&quot; continued the Conte. &quot;That is all right, but
+allow me to ask how you mean to do this?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz passed his hand--the white, transparent hand of
+consumption--wearily across his forehead. &quot;I hope to send my little
+girl to Hernals,&quot; he began, &quot;where she can be educated for a
+governess.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah--!&quot; the Conte looked disapproval--&quot;a very unpractical scheme, it
+seems to me, very unpractical. She will become very pretentious in her
+ideas at Hernals, and will gain but little that can be of real service
+to her. Remember your circumstances, my dear fellow, remember your
+circumstances,--we will discuss them by-and-by. And what do you think
+of doing with your son?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh Franzi is still so little,&quot; said Fritz in hopes of cutting short
+the conversation, the Conte's arrogant, domineering tone was most
+irritating, it stung him like nettles.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;All the more reason for providing for his future,&quot; the Conte insisted,
+&quot;in consideration of the chance of your being suddenly taken from him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;True, true,&quot; sighed Fritz. &quot;Well then, I hope to live long enough to
+place him in a government school for Cadets, after which through the
+influence of my relatives, he can obtain a commission.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte laughed contemptuously. &quot;Just like you!&quot; he exclaimed, &quot;the
+same haughty, aristocratic idler as ever! You'll learn sense after a
+while, my dear fellow. I have thought of something for Franzi; your
+wife is quite agreed to it.&quot; Charlotte who had seemed to be absorbed in
+her sewing, nodded.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Countess always takes a sensible view of affairs, she looks things
+in the face,&quot; continued the Conte; &quot;begging your pardon, my dear
+fellow, there is more common-sense in her little finger than in your
+whole body. We will find Franzi a place in a dry-goods establishment.
+The business is neither unhealthy, nor confining, and if it goes
+against your grain to put him in such a situation here in Austria (to
+speak frankly I think any such objection very petty,--my views in this
+respect are more enlightened) why I will see that he gets one in Paris
+at the <i>Louvre</i> or at the <i>Printemps</i>; a clerk in one of those great
+houses often gets a yearly salary of from fifteen to twenty thousand
+francs!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz started to his feet and made several attempts to interrupt the
+Conte, but his voice failed. A singing was in his ears, his blood was
+coursing hotly, wildly through his veins. &quot;My son!&quot; he gasped hoarsely,
+&quot;my son, clerk in a dry-goods shop! I'd rather kill him myself!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He felt a terrible oppression in his chest, and then came sudden
+relief; in an instant he grew deadly pale with bluish tints about his
+eyes and temples. He stretched out his hands aimlessly as if to ward
+off some catastrophe, not knowing why he did so,--then mechanically
+felt for his handkerchief, pressed it to his lips, and fell senseless
+on the floor.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The Lodrins dined early during the warm summer months; they wished to
+have the cooler hours of the late afternoon for riding, driving or
+walking. The dinner on Thursday at which Fritz was to have been present
+was at two o'clock, but at the last moment he sent an excuse without
+any special cause assigned.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course Fräulein von Klette had not been persuaded to stay at home.
+Erect as a grenadier, and with an enormous reticule to contain her
+sewing, her headdress, and any chance presents that she might receive,
+she made her appearance with Mimi Dey, who good-humouredly assured the
+Countess Lodrin, for the tenth time that Ossi and Gabrielle were
+incomparably the handsomest betrothed couple in Austria, and then
+greeted Zinka with perhaps rather exaggerated cordiality. Thanks to the
+imitative instinct that rules the world, all the ladies of the vicinity
+modelled their behaviour towards Zinka upon that of the Countess
+Lodrin. Mimi Dey had declared lately to several of her acquaintances
+who were asking about Erich Truyn's marriage, &quot;Zinka is as much of a
+lady as I am,&quot; and this significant verdict had its share in
+establishing upon a firm basis Zinka's social position.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Pistasch watched Zinka curiously; with all his languid insolence, he
+was possessed of sufficient tact to perceive what she was and to
+comport himself towards her accordingly. As usual, when not in the
+bosom of her family, she was rather silent; her gentle voice was heard
+only occasionally; she looked very pretty, and seemed to be occupied
+with anything rather than her own beauty, with every one else rather
+than with herself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The two topics of the hour were the upset that had befallen young
+Capriani and his four-in-hand the day before, and the murder of an old
+widow in a village near Schneeburg. The accident to the four-in-hand of
+course afforded all the gentlemen the liveliest satisfaction; they were
+unanimous in their surprise that the catastrophe had been delayed so
+long; the murder in Karlowitz opened for Truyn a wide field of moral
+and political considerations. As this murder was the first that had
+occurred within the memory of man in all the country round, he did not
+hesitate for a moment to ascribe it to the demoralizing influence of
+Capriani.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There is probably no evil, from a murder to an epidemic, which Truyn
+would not have liked to trace directly or indirectly to the sinister
+influence of Conte Capriani. Oswald who had been merry enough at first
+gradually grew taciturn and monosyllabic.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Capriani's ears must tingle,&quot; he exclaimed at last, no longer
+controlling his impatience, &quot;can we talk of nothing else but that
+scoundrel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Do not grudge us this innocent amusement,&quot; rejoined Truyn
+good-humouredly, and Pistasch added, &quot;I cannot see why it should make
+you nervous. The mere sound of Capriani's name affects you as an
+allusion to the cholera affects other men.&quot; Oswald changed colour, and
+Georges proposed a toast to the betrothed couple.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After dinner, whilst they were all drinking coffee in the drawing-room,
+Pistasch contrived a <i>tête-à-tête</i> with his cousin Mimi Dey for the
+purpose of asking all sorts of questions about Zinka, which he could
+not well put directly to the Lodrins. &quot;Is she the same Sterzl about
+whom there was so much talk in Rome? The girl who--etc.,--etc.?--a very
+delightful person, really charming.&quot; It was beginning to be the fashion
+to declare Zinka charming.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In the meantime the heroine of the Roman romance, was sitting beside
+the Countess Lodrin on a small divan in a dim corner of the spacious
+room, and whispering, &quot;Have you heard?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Of course I have! Ossi learned it from your husband; I congratulate
+you with all my heart,&quot; replied the Countess in a low tone, taking the
+young wife's hand in her own.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you understand how very glad I am,&quot; whispered Zinka, blushing, and
+brushing away a tear.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess smiled her own grave beautiful smile, and nodded assent;
+Zinka moved a little closer to her. &quot;Who should understand it better
+than you?&quot; she whispered. She felt a positive reverence for the
+Countess, whose kind and tender treatment of her she could not but
+regard as a special mark of favour and distinction. The childlike
+deference of her manner towards the elder lady was very graceful and
+very winning.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;If--if the good God should grant me a son,&quot; she whispered more softly
+still, and with a deeper blush, &quot;I should like to learn from you how to
+educate him.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Countess Wjera laid her hand kindly on Zinka's shoulder. &quot;Your husband
+will be a better teacher there than I can be; that Ossi is what he is
+is due to the grace of God,--not to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And is it by God's grace alone, that Ossi has preserved so profound
+and filial a veneration for his mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess took her hand from Zinka's shoulder; the younger woman,
+startled, gazed into her face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is nothing,&quot; said Wjera, with a forced smile, &quot;a pain in my
+heart--it will soon pass.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Mimi Dey, with Pistasch, was approaching the corner where the Countess
+and Zinka were sitting, and noticing Wjera's sudden pallor, inquired as
+to its cause, instantly vaunting the merits of a certain specific, in
+which she had implicit confidence. As soon as Fräulein Klette observed
+that the conversation was taking a medical turn, she too joined the
+group. &quot;Wjera, I know a wonderful remedy; a Swiss physician, gave me
+the prescription,--it really will cure everything,--everything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;From scrofula to 'despised love,'&quot; added Pistasch. He knew the famous
+prescription well, and knew, too, that it was the basis of one of
+Fräulein Klette's numerous financial man&#339; uvres.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It really is an extraordinary remedy, Wjera, and it would do you good,
+too, Mimi;--it would be the very thing for Zinka I am sure,&quot; Fräulein
+Klette rattled on. &quot;I have wrought wonders with it. Do let me have a
+few bottles of it put up for you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You needn't take that trouble, Carolin,&quot; said Pistasch maliciously, &quot;I
+have two or three quarts of your specific on hand, and it will give me
+pleasure to supply the ladies.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;As you please, I do not insist,&quot; said the Fräulein chagrined;
+whereupon she drew from her reticule the famous negro's head and with
+great energy and a very long thread began to embroider a sulphurous
+gleam on his ebony nose.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The fierce heat of the day is over, the rays of the westering sun cast
+mildly gleaming bands of gold here and there amid the pleasing
+confusion of furniture in the drawing-room, where both coverings and
+hangings of Flemish stuff made the prevailing colour a dim, cool green.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The world forgetting, the betrothed pair were standing by a little
+table whereon was a large, blue Sèvres vase, filled with crimson
+Jacqueminot roses, a vase, whereof the depressing shape was that of a
+funeral urn, and whereof the decorations were after the pedantic taste
+of the first Empire, with medallions of gaudy flowers upon a dark-blue
+surface. Oswald and Gabrielle had just agreed in declaring the vase
+almost as hideous as the pretentious monstrosity placed in the library
+of the Vatican as a memorial of Napoleonic generosity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mamma's Russian relatives have a positive passion for blue Sèvres
+vases, and green malachite table tops upon gilded tripods,&quot; said
+Oswald, &quot;but one cannot throw a well-meant gift out of doors!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And then they went on to talk of the future, of their wedding-trip
+which was to be to the East, and to laugh over certain events of the
+first days of their young affection, in that fair spring-time in Paris.
+Suddenly Gabrielle interrupted their talk with &quot;Now you are yourself
+again, but at dinner you looked so cross, I was absolutely afraid of
+you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, you foolish little girl, how could you be afraid of me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You mean that a great lion like you, is far too noble to hurt a poor
+little King Charles!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He shook his head, saying, &quot;I never should think of comparing you to a
+King Charles.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To what would you compare me then?&quot; she asked, lifting her large,
+shining eyes to his.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you angling for flattery, Ella?&quot; he said banteringly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Flattery from you?&quot; was her half-offended reply.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, I did not mean that,--I will tell you to what I love to liken
+you,&quot; he whispered very softly, leaning towards her,--&quot;to a white lily,
+Ella,--you are just as pure and fair, with a golden heart deep down in
+your breast.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her dark-blue eyes glittered with tears of tenderness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh Ella, if you only knew how I long to clasp you in my arms this
+moment, and kiss away the tears from those dear eyes! But ....&quot; and he
+gave a glance around.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No one is looking,&quot; she said saucily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was true; the ladies were absorbed in teazing Pistasch about his
+last conquest, and Truyn and Georges were again at it in argument over
+the internal policy of the government; but none the less did the sound
+of her own audacious little speech startle Gabrielle, and when Oswald
+with a merry glance whispered &quot;Say that again, Gabrielle,&quot; she turned
+away.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How Papa is shouting!&quot; she observed in order to change the subject as
+quickly as possible. And in fact Truyn's voice is tolerably loud as he
+utters the significant, momentous words: &quot;It is our mission to protect
+the people from the influence of ambitious political theorists, and
+from its own folly!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He is in a downright fury,&quot; assents Oswald, &quot;let us try to calm him,
+Ella.&quot; And as they went together towards the two politicians, Oswald
+said, &quot;Would you not like to have a rubber, uncle, before you carry out
+your mission?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn, as became his age, had a weakness for whist, quite as pronounced
+as for politics, and therefore accepted the proposal. The ladies were
+politely invited to play, but no one accepted save Fräulein Klette, and
+since Pistasch refused point-blank to have her for a partner, the four
+gentlemen sat down to the game by themselves.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sunbeams slant more and more, one long, level ray is now shining
+directly through the bouquet of crimson roses in the ugly Sèvres vase,
+the flowers glow like strange, weird jewels.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A carriage stopped before the castle. &quot;Who can it be?&quot; said Countess
+Lodrin.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was the Baroness Melkweyser. The customary greetings over, she
+begged the gentlemen not to let her interrupt their game, and sank into
+an arm-chair beside the Countess Lodrin. &quot;I hope I do not disturb you!&quot;
+she exclaimed. &quot;I really could not stand it another hour over there. I
+was perfectly wild!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Aha!&quot; Mimi Dey smiled provokingly. &quot;I cannot pity you as much as you
+seem to expect, Zoë; I thought you would repent it, when I heard you
+were staying with those queer people.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What would you have?&quot; said the Baroness meekly enough, &quot;I have known
+those Caprianis ever so long, they live magnificently in Paris.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed?&quot; asked Mimi, &quot;does any one visit them?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh yes, crowned heads even,&quot; said Zinka, &quot;and especially Princes of
+the blood travelling incog.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, they--why, they go even to the <i>Mabille</i>,&quot; said Mimi,
+&quot;and--well--perhaps there is a certain similarity between ....!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Oh, no, no,&quot; interrupted Zoë, &quot;they have very decent manners; Capriani
+even turned out of his house lately a person who came without an
+invitation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Really?&quot; said Zinka, &quot;that, certainly, shows great progress; but is it
+true that at the Conte's last ball neither the eldest daughter, nor her
+husband was present?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; Zoë admitted. &quot;Those are some of the insolent airs with which
+Larothière contrives to awe his father-in-law.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Go on,&quot; said Mimi.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do not say that only the <i>élite</i> appear at these balls. <i>C'est
+toujours le monde à côté</i>, as they say in Paris, but,--good Heavens!
+these Caprianis have been of service to me, and they always heaped me
+with attentions, but here they are beginning to behave positively
+disagreeably to me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps your services in your native country have not answered their
+expectations,&quot; said Mimi, &quot;Pistasch told me that you had been invited
+to Schneeburg on purpose to introduce the Caprianis into Austrian
+society. Was that only one of his poor jokes, or ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I really did promise to do my best ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My dear Zoë',&quot; exclaimed Mimi Dey horrified, &quot;had you clean forgotten
+your Austria?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, I had not forgotten it, only I fancied that in the last
+twenty-five years you might have conformed somewhat to the spirit of
+the age; but no, you are precisely the same as ever. When will you
+cease to entrench yourselves behind triple barriers?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;When we feel sure that no suspicious individual will try to invade our
+realm,&quot; said Mimi; &quot;our circle, moreover, is quite large enough, and if
+we are asked to admit a stranger, at least we have a right to discover
+beforehand whether he will or will not be an acquisition.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">That this didactic little speech was uttered principally for her
+edification, the Countess Truyn was perfectly aware. She merely smiled
+calmly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I have no prejudices,&quot; asserted Fräulein Klette boldly. &quot;I am
+perfectly ready to be introduced to the Caprianis.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, you are a great philosopher,&quot; replied Mimi, gravely patting her
+on the shoulder, &quot;we all know that.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I shall not fail to represent to Capriani the advantage to be derived
+from your acquaintance,&quot; said Zoë drily. &quot;And now I must make haste and
+execute a commission; I should really prefer to extricate myself from
+these associations, but since I have got into the claws of this vulture
+I must keep him in good humour at least until he has gotten my finances
+into a better condition. And that brings me to what I have to ask of
+you, Wjera; I want you to do me a great favour.&quot; Up to this point the
+Countess Lodrin had taken no part in the conversation, but had
+continued, apparently lost in thought, to work away with her large
+wooden needles at her woollen piece of knitting. Zinka, who had been
+watching her, thought her unusually pale. &quot;A favour? What is it?&quot; asked
+the Countess.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is about your 'old Vienna' set of china, which you used to be so
+anxious to complete. The other half was at Schneeburg, and now belongs
+to Capriani. When he learned from me that you--er--were very fond of
+the set, he--er--asked me,--very kindly, as you must admit,--to offer
+you his half.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess's large wooden needles clicked louder, and more busily
+than ever, but she said not a word in reply.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You really would do me a very great favour, Wjera,&quot; persisted the
+baroness, &quot;three weeks ago he asked me to say this to you, and I have
+only to-day brought myself to do it. You will embarrass me exceedingly
+by rejecting the china.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Then Wjera with a quick angry gesture dropped her work, and looked up.
+Her face in its stern pallor was like chiselled marble, but a dark glow
+shone in her eyes; Zinka thought that she had never beheld anything
+more beautiful or more haughty than that face at that moment. &quot;What
+price does your Herr Capriani ask for the china?&quot; she asked curtly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Price?--Price?--he will deem himself only too happy by your acceptance
+of it...!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ossi, that's a revoke!&quot; exclaimed Pistasch spreading out two tricks
+upon the whist-table.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He is playing very carelessly,&quot; remarked Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Every allowance must be made for a man in love,&quot; said Georges kindly
+as he shuffled the cards.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald, whose back was towards his mother, heard her say: &quot;Your
+Monsieur Capriani's officiousness seems to me to pass all bounds. Pray
+tell him <i>de ma part</i> that I am quite ready to buy the service of him,
+at any price that he may name, however high, but that it is not my
+habit to accept gifts from those with whom I neither have nor wish to
+have any social intercourse.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, good Heavens! I had forgotten one half of my message,&quot; said Zoë,
+striking her forehead. &quot;He expressly hoped that you would see in this
+little attention nothing more than a proof of respectful esteem from a
+former servant,--he would not venture to say friend,--of your family.
+He assures me that he attended yourself and your husband years ago
+while you were in the Riviera, and he declares that if you do not
+recognise Conte Capriani, you will surely remember Doctor--Doctor--I
+have forgotten the name--but at any rate the doctor that you had
+there.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why it must be Stein!&quot; exclaimed Fräulein Klette.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, that was the name,&quot; said Zoë.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Why, I knew him,&quot; Fräulein Klette went on eagerly. &quot;You must remember
+me to him; he was practising at Nice, when I spent the winter with the
+Orczinskas. The women raved about him--he was a very handsome man then,
+and he had invented a hygienic corset, all the women wore it.--You must
+have known him too, Wjera. I am certain that I met him once at your
+villa, that winter that you and your husband passed in the Riviera.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He declares that he attended your husband,&quot; said Zoë.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a brief--a very brief pause, and then the Countess said
+clearly and distinctly, &quot;Possibly, but it does not interest me, and you
+can tell him from me that I do not remember it!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How young you look when you're angry, Wjera,&quot; said Mimi Dey, laughing,
+&quot;the old demon flashes in your eyes when you're vexed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's a deal of pleasure in playing whist with you, Ossi,&quot; exclaimed
+Truyn at the same moment,--he was Oswald's partner,--&quot;that's five
+trumps that you have thrown away--I had a slam in my hand.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;How could I guess that you had anything in diamonds?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I led.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Clubs.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, diamonds! Just look.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Don't you think that Ossi, when he puts on that gloomy face, looks
+astonishingly like young Capriani?&quot; observed Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No longer master of himself Oswald threw his cards down on the table.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come, come, behave yourself, Ossi,&quot; said Truyn.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;There's no use in trying to jest with you: you are as sensitive as a
+commoner,&quot; grumbled Pistasch.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Let us rather say as irritable as a crowned head,&quot; said Georges
+laughing, &quot;<i>Les extrèmes se touchent</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I really believe it is the reappearance of your old family spectre
+which must have affected your nerves lately, Ossi,&quot; Pistasch said
+innocently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Which family spectre are you talking of?&quot; asked Oswald hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Have you several of them then?&quot; asked Pistasch. &quot;I know only of the
+blind one that laughs--my man told me to-day while I was dressing that
+it has been heard laughing again. The butler had told him so.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The gardener was talking to me of it to-day too,&quot; said Georges, &quot;but I
+told him that there have been no ghosts since '48; ghosts as an
+institution were quite done away with by the March revolution,
+whereupon, as he is an aspiring person addicted to free thinking he
+replied that he had arrived at that same conclusion himself.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Stupid superstition!&quot; muttered Oswald; then controlling himself by an
+effort he said very quietly, but pale as ashes. &quot;Shall we not have
+another rubber?&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The world of spirits is a favourite topic with your aristocratic
+dilettanti, and every Austrian family <i>qui se respecte</i> has its
+spectre.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Zinsenburgs have their White Lady, the Truyns their magnificent
+four-in-hand, which, as the fore-runner of any terrible domestic
+calamity, rattles past the windows of the Truynburg in the Bohemian
+forest--no one knows whither or whence.--The Kamenz family have only a
+black hand that inscribes weird characters of fire on the walls; the
+Lodrins have their blind woman who is heard laughing when disgrace or
+misfortune threatens the family. Of all the family spectres in Bohemia
+this laughing, blind woman is the most grisly. Her origin dates from
+dim antiquity. The legend runs that in the eleventh or twelfth century
+a knight, Wolf von Lodrin, married in accordance with a family
+arrangement, but with no love on the bride's part, a beautiful and
+noble maiden. Inflamed with passion for her, and finding it impossible
+to win her affection, in an evil hour, and in a fit of devilish rage,
+he struck her across the face with his riding-whip, and blindness
+followed the blow. Overcome by horror at what he had done the knight
+fell into a brooding melancholy, and at last killed himself. When his
+blind widow was told of it, she laughed; she herself lived to be a
+hundred years old, but after the knight's suicide she never spoke a
+single word,--only every time that any calamity befell the family, or
+one of its sons suffered disgrace she could be heard laughing. It was
+this blind spectre that still haunted Tornow. Formerly she had been
+seen frequently, it was said, a tall figure in grey, with a black
+bandage over her eyes, and an uncanny smile upon her pale lips, and the
+apparition always preceded some dire family misfortune. Her laugh had
+last been heard the day before Oswald's birth, wherefore it was feared
+that either the mother or the child would die, or that the Countess
+would give birth to some monster. But when a beautiful boy was born,
+and the mother recovered after her confinement much sooner than had
+been predicted, the blind Cassandra rather fell into disrepute,
+especially as both the Count and Countess set their faces against any
+belief in her existence, the Count because of his devout religious
+faith, and the Countess because she was too enlightened to encourage
+any such superstition.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald had never bestowed much thought upon the spectre, merely smiling
+in a superior way when it was mentioned, but in the present excited,
+irritated state of his nerves even the superstitious gossip of his old
+servants made an impression upon him. During the rest of the evening,
+however, he put forth all his force to obliterate the impression that
+his irritability at the whist-table had made upon Truyn and Pistasch.
+And he succeeded; but when, after all the guests had departed, he
+retired to his room for the night his strength was exhausted. The old
+torture assailed him, only it was even keener and more agonizing than
+that which he had brought with him from Prague. He tossed his head from
+side to side on his pillow in feverish sleeplessness. Endowed from
+boyhood with that faultless courage which is rather a matter of
+temperament than of education, to-night for the first time in his life
+he was thrilled with a vague dread. Every noise, however slight, made
+him catch his breath with a suffocating sense of oppression.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">At last his eyes closed in troubled and restless sleep, but his anguish
+pursued him in his dreams. He seemed to be lying upon a meadow of
+emerald green, with bright flowers blooming all around, and gay
+butterflies fluttering here and there, while above him arched the
+cloudless blue, lit up by golden sunshine. Suddenly he felt the earth
+beneath him move, and he began slowly to sink into it. Overcome with
+horror he tried to arise, but the more he tried the deeper he sank into
+what was loathsome, slimy mud. He awoke, bathed in cold perspiration,
+gasping for breath, his heart beating wildly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He gazed around; everything wore a weird unwonted look in the
+half-light of the summer night that encircled every object with a halo
+of grey mist. Through the open windows the heavy, sultry air floated in
+and out. He listened,--everywhere was silence, all nature lay as under
+the ban of an evil spell. Then a stir broke the silence,--did something
+rustle softly?--he seemed to hear the very wings of the night-moths
+fluttering above the flowers. His father's death mask glared white
+through the gloom; it grew longer and longer as if fain to descend from
+where it hung---- What was that----? a low chuckle seemed to sound
+behind the very wall beside him! The bodiless shadows floated hither
+and thither and suddenly grouped themselves in one spot; a tall grey
+figure with bandaged eyes and white lips drawn into a scornful smile
+stood leaning against the wall--it moved! It glided to his bed;
+uttering a cry he grasped at it; it vanished and he fell back on his
+pillow.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A few minutes afterward a light step approached his door, the latch was
+cautiously lifted, and his mother in a long white dressing-gown,
+holding a lighted candle in a little flat candlestick, entered. Her
+bedroom was just beneath his, and she had heard his cry. &quot;Ossi!&quot; she
+called gently.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, mother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What was the matter?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I had a bad dream.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She lit the candles upon his table and leaned over him, scanning his
+features, startled by their ghastly pallor. &quot;What is the matter with
+you, Ossi?--I cannot endure any longer to see you silently suffering
+such pain and distress.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing,&quot; he said dully--&quot;nothing.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Nothing! Can you--will you say that to me,--to me, your mother! A
+while ago, when you returned from Prague, I thought you changed, but
+you soon recovered; yet all last evening I was conscious that you were
+tormented by some secret anguish. For God's sake, tell me what it is.&quot;
+As she spoke she stroked his arms soothingly from the shoulder
+downwards. &quot;If you only knew what torture it is to me to see you suffer
+without being able to help you, or at least to share your pain with
+you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The nameless magic of her presence affected him more powerfully than
+ever--her tender caress produced in him the delightful, languid
+sensation of convalescence. For a moment he half-resolved to tell her
+everything, that she might once for all allay his pain. But his cheek
+flushed,--how could he?--no, he must master it of himself. He pressed
+both her hands to his lips.--&quot;Do not ask me, mother, I pray you,&quot; he
+murmured, &quot;how often must I repeat that I cannot, try as I may, tell
+you everything.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess gravely shook her head. &quot;That excuse does not satisfy me;
+I can understand that it is easier to speak of certain things to a
+father than to a mother, but don't you know that never since your
+boyhood have I tried to keep you in leading-strings? When did I ever
+play the spy upon your actions, or meddle with what did not concern a
+mother?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Never, mother dear, so long as I was well and happy,&quot; he assented,
+involuntarily adopting a tone of tender raillery, &quot;but, if I happened
+to hang my head,--oh, then, you were sometimes very indiscreet.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A son who is ill or unhappy is always about two years old for his
+mother,&quot; she said. &quot;Come now, confess; I am an old woman, you can speak
+out before me. I am convinced that your exaggerated conscientiousness
+is leading you to magnify some very commonplace affair;--an old love
+scrape is perhaps casting a shadow over your betrothal....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are mistaken, mamma, there is nothing to trouble me in my past; it
+is all as if it had never been.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, then, what troubles you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For a moment he did not speak, then he said in a low tone rather
+hastily, &quot;A wretched nervousness--sorry fancies! Can you believe
+it?--just before you came in, I saw plainly, as plainly as I see you,
+the laughing blind woman come towards me!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are you beginning to suffer from the Lodrin hallucinations?&quot; the
+Countess exclaimed.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The 'Lodrin hallucinations,'--she uttered the words carelessly, without
+reflection. His soul drank them in thirstily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Apparently, mamma, but I shall get rid of them, I shall certainly get
+rid of them,&quot; he replied in a clear, joyous voice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And what other fancies did your nerves suggest?&quot; she asked,
+scrutinizing his face anxiously.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Loathsome imaginings which sullied my heart and soul, and which I
+tried in vain to banish, foul suspicions of those whom I venerate most.
+I was free from them in your presence only, mother, and that is why I
+have come to you so often of late; these phantoms never dare to assail
+me when I am with you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess arose and extinguished the candles; for a while there was
+silence.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother,&quot; he said softly, and almost overpowered by sleep as he took
+her hand in his, &quot;tell me what it is that rays out from your hallowed
+eyes, with power to chase all shadows from my soul?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again there was silence. For a few minutes she listened to his calm
+regular breathing. He had fallen asleep.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With hands folded in her lap, deadly pale, and with a look of horror in
+her eyes, she remained seated on the edge of the bed. The day had just
+dawned when she arose. Oswald half awoke and opened his eyes. &quot;You here
+still, mamma? Oh what a delicious sleep I have had!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Sleep on, my child,&quot; she whispered, leaning over him and kissing his
+brow, before she left the room. She glided slowly along the corridor,
+her hand upon her heart. &quot;Shall I have the strength,&quot; she murmured,
+&quot;shall I have the strength?&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">If he could only have got hold of these Lodrins,--if he could only have
+found an opportunity to speak with them, he could have humbled their
+pride before now, the Conte said to himself. He was still endeavouring
+to find some such opportunity; yesterday he had positively forced his
+friend the Baroness Melkweyser to drive over at last to Tornow to lay
+at the feet of the Countess Lodrin the antique set of china, albeit not
+in the name of the Conte Capriani, but of her humble servant, Doctor
+Alfred Stein. He was curious to hear what Zoë would have to tell, but
+after her return from Tornow Zoë had incontinently retired to her
+apartment with a violent headache, and the request that a cup of strong
+tea might be sent to her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The headache lasted all through the next forenoon to the great vexation
+of the Conte, who was, moreover, in extreme bad humour. He was annoyed
+by a trifle, a perfectly absurd trifle, but it had sufficed to stir up
+all the gall in his nature. His <i>maître d'hôtel</i> had given him warning
+this morning, or, as that worthy expressed it, had handed in his
+resignation. When the Conte, who set great store by him, asked him his
+reason for so doing, and whether his salary was not sufficiently large,
+Monsieur Leloir, with the respectful air proper to the well-trained
+servant that he was, but with a distinctness that left nothing to be
+desired, replied that the salary corresponded to his wishes, and he had
+nothing to object to in the treatment that he had received, but--he
+felt too lonely, secluded,--&quot;<i>Monsieur le Comte voit trop peu de
+monde</i>.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Two highly satisfactory messages, brought him shortly afterwards by the
+telegraph that connected his study at Schneeburg with the business
+world, did not suffice to drive this vexatious occurrence from his
+mind. He looked considerably sallower than usual when he appeared at
+lunch. All the rest were seated at table when the Baroness Melkweyser
+appeared. In her character of convalescent she wore a gorgeous, brocade
+dressing-gown upon which was portrayed a forest of gigantic sunflowers
+against an olive-green background. Otherwise she betrayed no indication
+of feeble health; her appetite was particularly reassuring.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You are very subject to headache nowadays,&quot; said the Conte, in a tone
+of reproof.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Instead of replying Zoë helped herself for the second time to omelette
+with truffles, and Parmesan cheese.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Perhaps the long drive was too fatiguing,&quot; suggested the mistress of
+the house, always kindly desirous of atoning for her husband's
+rudeness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Had you a pleasant visit at Tornow?&quot; asked Fermor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It is always pleasant to see dear old friends again,&quot; said Zoë curtly.
+Her mood was undeniably irritable; apparently she had laid in a stock
+of arrogance at Tornow, that would last her several days.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I really must go over to Tornow,&quot; said Fermor, &quot;I trust, Baroness,
+that you did not mention my having been here so long; the Countess
+might well think it very strange that I had not been over to see her.&quot;
+Kilary smiled, and Fermor went on in his affected, drawling way. &quot;Very
+admirable people, the Lodrins, but they are not very interesting to
+me;--they are too matter-of-fact;--they have too little feeling for
+art.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After lunch, whilst Fermor was testifying to the depth of his feeling
+for art, by improvising on the grand piano an accompaniment to a new
+ode by Paul Angelico, who, in his immortal waterproof, draped like
+Sophocles, stood opposite and read the ode aloud in a sonorous voice
+out of a little volume bound in red morocco, Capriani took occasion to
+draw Zoë Melkweyser aside that he might ask: &quot;Did you have any
+opportunity yesterday to deliver my message to the Countess Lodrin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes,&quot; replied Zoë drily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And what answer have you brought me?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Countess says she is quite ready to purchase the china of you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To purchase it of me!&quot; repeated the Conte, pale with anger, &quot;but my
+dear Zoë,&quot;--in moments of great excitement the Conte was wont to call
+the Baroness by her first name,--&quot;but my dear Zoë what did you propose
+to her?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Exactly what you told me.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed?&quot;--the Count drew closer to her, and leaned forward,--&quot;did you
+tell her that I laid the china at her feet, not in the name of the
+Count Capriani, but of the Doctor Stein whom she knew years ago in the
+Riviera?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, and I told her that you said you had formerly attended the Count,
+her husband.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She replied--do you really wish to hear her reply.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well, then, she replied, 'that may possibly be so, but I do not
+remember it.'&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte grew still paler, and his face wore an ugly expression;--he
+picked up a paper-knife of beautiful oriental workmanship, and began to
+toy with it restlessly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I beg you to observe,&quot; Zoë began, &quot;that I am entirely innocent in this
+matter. You certainly remember that I postponed for weeks the delivery
+of your message, and that I fulfilled your commission reluctantly at
+last. I told you beforehand what the result would be; but you were so
+perfectly sure that the Countess would remember the name of Stein....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What's the matter?&quot; asked Kilary approaching them. &quot;What agitates you
+so, my dear Capriani.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The Conte is determined to prove to me that nothing can withstand his
+power, not even a paperknife,&quot; said Zoë sharply, pointing to the one
+which the Conte was bending.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Or the Lodrin arrogance,&quot; observed Kilary, &quot;eh? My dear Capriani, in
+my native town in Upper Austria they have an old proverb, 'What can't
+be lifted must be let alone.' Now if you would only take this proverb
+to heart you would save yourself a vast amount of time and vexation.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Just then the paper-knife snapped in two, and the Conte threw the
+pieces on the floor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Who is riding past?&quot; asked the baroness, with undisguised curiosity,
+leaning out of the window by which she had been standing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It must be Count Kamenz,&quot; said Ad'lin, who had been busy encouraging
+by her applause the united, artistic efforts of Fermor and Paul
+Angelico, &quot;I am surprised that he has not paid us a visit before now.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, it is the Lodrin cousins,&quot; said Kilary, &quot;they are evidently going
+to see Malzin.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Ad'lin looked disappointed. And the Conte turning away from the
+Baroness and Kilary began to pace the room slowly to and fro. After a
+while he paused in front of his wife, who with a sadder face than usual
+was cutting out her cretonne flowers. &quot;You went to see the Malzins
+to-day,--how is he?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very ill; unlike other consumptives, he is perfectly aware of his
+condition, and consequently the future of his children lies heavy on
+his heart. I did my best to comfort him--but that was little enough.&quot;
+&quot;Do you know whether he still proposes to go to Gleichenberg?&quot; her
+husband interrupted her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, he is getting ready to go. Müller, the old nurse voluntarily
+offered to accompany him; she could not find it in her heart to have
+him waited upon and tended by strangers.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But Müller's touching devotion did not interest Capriani in the least.
+&quot;This is evidently just the time to talk with him about the vault,&quot; he
+said as if to himself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean?&quot; exclaimed Frau von Capriani startled out of her
+usual submissive gentleness,--&quot;with an invalid!&quot; ....</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come, come, let us have no sentimentality!&quot; he interrupted her
+sharply. &quot;You know I understand nothing of the kind.&quot;</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">In his childhood, beside his father's sick-bed, Oswald had learned how
+to treat an invalid with rare tenderness; but what he never had been
+taught nor could have been taught,--what was his very own nature,--was
+his impetuous, untiring kindheartedness, a kindheartedness that was
+never content with passively theorizing, but always refused to
+discontinue effort even in the case of the most distressing
+emergencies, and always longed to soothe with hope the pain which it
+could not cure.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz, on the day after the dinner, had sent a note to Tornow, telling
+of his sad condition and of his projected journey to Gleichenberg, and
+Oswald and Georges had instantly ridden over to Schneeburg, where they
+found Fritz coughing incessantly, propped up with pillows in a large
+easy-chair before his writing-table, painfully endeavouring to write
+out his last will. Ten minutes of Oswald's presence sufficed to cause
+life to wear a different aspect for Fritz. Oswald scolded him for
+giving them all such a fright with that desponding note of his,
+protested that a man looking as well as he did had no right to depress
+his friends with melancholy forebodings, told of the miracles wrought
+by Gleichenberg on many of his acquaintances, and declared that 'a mere
+hemorrhage' was of very little consequence, particularly in cases like
+Fritz's where consumption was not in the family.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I had one, when I was a volunteer, after parade one day,&quot; he
+concluded, &quot;and I never should know it to-day.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;That must have been something different, Ossi,&quot; said Fritz, laughing
+at his friend's earnestness;--the laugh brought on a violent fit of
+coughing. Oswald put his arm around him and supported his head;--&quot;it
+will soon be over, hand him a glass of water, Georges, there....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;However low down a fellow may be, it lightens his heart to look into
+your eyes, Ossi,&quot; said Fritz, taking breath after the cough had gone.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You're right there, Fritz,&quot; Georges agreed, &quot;and yet there's no more
+inflammable, and momentarily unjust man in the world, than he.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, but then....&quot; began Fritz.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now be quiet,&quot; Oswald ordered, &quot;the best thing for you to do would be
+to lie down for a while, and we will do our best to entertain you
+without making you laugh.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Thanks,&quot; said Fritz, &quot;but I .... I should like to say something to you.
+When a man stands on the brink of the grave....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Aha, you are posing again as an interesting invalid,&quot; Oswald rallied
+him; &quot;well--Georges, go down stairs and pay your respects to Pipsi,
+there's a good fellow; I hear her chattering with her little brother
+beneath the window;--I know how pleased Fritz is with your visit, but,
+just now, you are a little in the way.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges laughed, and withdrew bowing low.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They were left alone in the long, low room; against the windows the
+leaves of the old apricot-trees rustled dreamily, and the air was
+fragrant with the scent of the last flowers of summer. The portraits of
+Fritz's parents and of their Imperial Majesties looked down from the
+wall, their outlines rather vague in the darkened apartment, and on the
+old door-jamb, scored with the children's names a prismatic sunbeam was
+playing.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Now tell me, Fritz, what is the matter? You know there is no need of
+any beating about the bush between us,&quot; said Oswald leaning towards the
+sick man, &quot;speak low, I can hear you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz fixed his gaze upon the door-jamb where among the old names two
+new ones had been written, 'Pipsi five, Franzi three years old.' &quot;God
+knows, I have no reason to cling to life,&quot; he said with a sigh, &quot;and
+yet my heart is sore at the thought that next year I shall--make no
+mark there!--Poor children!--who will care for them when I am gone?&quot;
+His voice broke, and it was with difficulty that he kept back the
+tears. &quot;I have taken a great deal of pains with them, and hitherto they
+have been good little things,--at least so they seem to me ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Your children are charming,&quot; was Oswald's warm assurance.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are they not?&quot; gasped Fritz, and his hollow eyes sparkled, &quot;but they
+are still so little--when I am dead they will run wild. Capriani will
+not let them starve--assuredly not; but <i>how</i> will he provide for
+them?--and my wife agrees with him in everything--that is the worst of
+it;--Ossi, in my will I have expressed a wish that my children should
+be separated from their mother. She does not care for them very much; I
+think she would be glad to be rid of the burden of bringing them
+up .... and I have begged you--you will not take it ill of me, Ossi,....&quot;
+he hesitated.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Would you like me to be their guardian?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, Ossi!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Then that is settled,&quot; said Oswald, holding out his hand, &quot;and,
+moreover, my mother told me to tell you that when I am married she
+should have nothing more to do, and would take pleasure in attending to
+the education of your little ones. You can hardly ask anything better
+for them.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah, Ossi, your mother is an angel!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Indeed she is,&quot; said Oswald gravely.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;She is well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;No, she was very weary to-day at dinner, she had a sleepless night
+from anxiety on my account--my poor mother! And now since your mind is
+easy on all points, old fellow, it is to be hoped that you'll torment
+yourself no longer with gloomy forebodings, but do your best to get
+well and strong. Let us recall our poor exiled Georges, shall we
+not--<i>ça</i>! who's there? some one knocked!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Come in!&quot; said Fritz.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Conte Capriani entered, a roll of parchment in his hand.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald winced.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For Heaven's sake stay,&quot; panted Fritz, holding his friend fast by the
+wrist.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, pray stay, my dear Count,&quot; said Capriani, who must have heard
+Fritz's words, or had understood his gesture. &quot;I knew that I should
+meet you here, but what I have to arrange with our friend, Malzin,
+might as well be discussed before a hundred witnesses. I am really glad
+to see you again--our last conversation came to so sudden a
+termination,&quot; and the Conte familiarly held out his hand to the young
+man.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald measured him from head to foot with a haughty glance, and put
+his hand in his pocket. Then leaning his elbow upon the high back of
+Fritz's easy-chair, he stood motionless while Capriani angrily pushed a
+chair near to the table and sat down.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;So, my dear Malzin, you are off for Gleichenberg,&quot; he began, with his
+left thumb stuck into the arm-hole of his waistcoat, and his right hand
+resting on the roll of parchment on his knee.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald's gaze was fixed with a strange curiosity upon the face of the
+stock-gambler; all the loathsome ideas which had sullied his soul of
+late recurred to him; how disgraceful, nay how ridiculous his foul
+suspicions seemed when confronted with the flesh and blood Capriani.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Meanwhile the Conte, irritated to the last degree by the young Count's
+cold stare, continued, &quot;You must, of course, be desirous of settling
+your affairs, Malzin, before your departure. Under present
+circumstances you ought to be glad to be able to provide for the future
+of your children.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Certainly; I have discussed it fully with my relatives,&quot; murmured
+Fritz, trembling with agitation, and clasping his thin hands on the
+table.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Discussed?--that can lead to nothing,&quot; Capriani asserted, &quot;I see, I
+see, the same loose way of attending to business. A matter of such
+importance ought to be definitely settled. It is time for you to listen
+to reason, as regards that vault; of course we all hope that you will
+return from Gleichenberg sound and well, but we must be prepared for
+the worst. If you close your eyes to this you leave your children
+unprovided for, and you, you alone will be to blame, seeing that by
+merely executing this deed of sale for that burial-vault--downright
+rubbish--you will receive the extremely handsome and liberal sum of
+thirty thousand gulden. Now, pray be reasonable.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte spread the parchment out on the table before Fritz, dipped a
+pen in the ink, and handed it to him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The tears came into the wretched man's eyes. &quot;My poor children!&quot; he
+groaned and took the pen.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">On the instant Oswald snatched the fateful parchment from the table,
+and threw it on the floor; &quot;You shall not sign it, Fritz!&quot; he
+exclaimed, his voice hoarse with indignation; then turning to the
+Conte, he said sharply, &quot;You see that my cousin is not equal to the
+excitement of an interview like the present. May I beg you to leave
+us?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte sprang up, his breath came in quick gasps, and a dark menace
+shot from the eyes that he rivetted upon the young man's face.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;May I beg you to leave the room,&quot; Oswald repeated with icy disdain.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You show me to the door?&quot;--the Conte said, beside himself with
+rage,--&quot;you dare to do this to me--you--were not my hints the other day
+plain enough?....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald lost all self-control; &quot;Scoundrel! Liar!&quot; he gasped hoarsely.
+His riding-whip lay on the table--he seized it and pointed to the door;
+&quot;Begone!&quot; he thundered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For an instant Capriani hesitated, baleful threatening flashing in his
+eyes. &quot;I am going,&quot; he said, &quot;but you shall hear from me!&quot; and the door
+closed behind him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Quivering with rage, Oswald turned about. &quot;My God! Fritz ....!&quot; he
+exclaimed in terror. Fritz had risen from his chair, and after
+advancing a step, had fallen drenched in blood beside his couch!</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The hemorrhage had at last been arrested, the doctor sent for, and the
+sick man put to bed. Oswald was sitting beside him, awaiting the
+arrival of the physician. From time to time he whispered a comforting
+word to the invalid or gave him a bit of ice. Some one gently lifted
+the latch of the door. &quot;Ossi!&quot; Georges called softly.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Capriani has sent this note to you.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To me? Let me have it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald took the note and retired to the bedside again. Shortly
+afterward he appeared in the adjoining room where Georges was, his eyes
+filled with gloom, his face ghastly pale.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What does the dog say?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;He asks where his second can find me, as I might not like to receive
+him beneath my mother's roof. He is right--!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Second?&quot; Georges interrupted him. &quot;Have you quarrelled?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, he was insolent to me and to Fritz, and so I called him a
+scoundrel and turned him out of the room.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And you are going to accept his challenge?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You, you mean to fight with Conte Capriani--with a wretched swindler,
+with no claim to the satisfaction of a gentleman? Are you insane? Do
+you not see how such a duel must degrade you?--Show me his letter that
+I may know what to do, and then let me go to him. I assure you that the
+matter can be settled in a quarter of an hour; it is nothing but empty
+brag on his part.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I tell you that I insist upon this duel,&quot; exclaimed Oswald, beside
+himself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Upon a duel with an adventurer who, with his money, comes from no one
+knows where? It is impossible, downright impossible! Show me his
+letter.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald changed colour, felt in his pocket--&quot;I have not got it,--I threw
+it away--&quot; he stammered disconnectedly, &quot;moreover, the letter has
+nothing to do with the matter. Go to him,--it is against all rule,--but
+I will not have his seconds cross my threshold. One second is enough
+for me, I will not have another dragged into this disgusting affair.
+Arrange everything with Kilary, and as soon as possible--pistols!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Pistols?--at thirty-five paces?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Fifteen if he chooses,--or for all I care across a handkerchief!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges went close up to his cousin, and looked into his eyes as if to
+read his very soul; then he drew a long breath and said, &quot;You are not
+alone in the world, Ossi,--you have a mother and a betrothed who
+idolize you! and yet you would hazard your life for the sake of a
+single angry outburst, for a mere whim; you would accept the challenge
+of a man who, spurred on by envy and wounded vanity, is capable of
+anything, and to die by whose hand could only disgrace you? And all
+because--because you are possessed for the moment by some fixed
+delusion which makes life intolerable to you!&quot; Oswald winced. Georges
+went on, &quot;The only one who could gain anything by your death is
+myself,--and God knows I would give my life at any moment to save
+yours! I do not grudge you the position that you occupy.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What do you mean? What stuff are you talking,&quot; Oswald interrupted
+him imperiously; his face was still ashy pale, and his voice sounded
+harsh--&quot;'You do not grudge me the position that I occupy!'--Perhaps you
+think you have a right to it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But, Ossi!--How can you--? you are beside yourself--you are insane!&quot;
+ejaculated Georges, utterly confounded.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, yes,--I have known it for some time, Georges, I am losing my
+reason!&quot; Oswald murmured in broken, weary tones. He groped for support,
+sank into a chair, and covering his face with his hands, sobbed like a
+child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There was a long pause. At last Oswald raised his head. &quot;Now, go!&quot; he
+said in a sharp tone of command, such as he had never before used to
+his cousin. &quot;Go to him--pistols--and soon. If you will not go, I will
+send Pistasch,--judge for yourself whether that would improve matters!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And Georges shrugged his shoulders and went.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">As soon as he was alone Oswald took the Conte's fateful letter from his
+pocket, and read it through once more.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">No! he had read it aright, there it stood in black and
+white!.... &quot;After what I have thus told you,&quot; so the letter concluded,
+&quot;it is evident that a duel between us two can be nothing but a mere
+formality--it is, however, a formality which I demand as due to my
+honour as a man ....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He must go to his mother and show her the letter; there was nothing
+else to be done--nothing--! He must know whether he had the right to
+shoot him down like a dog, or .... He was overcome by a sudden
+dizziness, and the thought occurred to him, 'What if I should faint
+away, and some one should find this letter here and read it--!' He
+rose, lit a match and burnt the letter, with a feeling akin to relief
+when nothing remained of the disgraceful document, save a few ashes.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">George's words recurred to him; evidently Georges suspected something
+wrong, that was clear,--but what? the contents of that letter he could
+not suspect. But what if it were true? What if some one should discover
+it? Every one would flee from him, even those who had loved him most.
+And on a sudden he himself felt a fearful, paralysing disgust at the
+blood in his veins! A dull lump seemed to rise in his throat,--it
+choked him. 'But it cannot be,' he said to himself, 'it cannot be.'
+Then he sat still for a long time, scarcely daring even to think; he
+himself did not know for how long, but when at last the door opened and
+Georges entered, he noticed that it had begun to grow dark.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well--the affair is settled!&quot; began Georges gloomily.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;For when?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To-morrow morning at six o'clock--devil that he is, it could not be
+soon enough for him; he pretended that he must leave for Paris in the
+evening; probably he thought that if the duel were delayed you might
+reconsider it, and instead of giving him satisfaction for the insult of
+which he complains, add to it the thrashing which he deserves.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald sat leaning his head on his hand and did not speak.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;God knows, I would not have gone to him,&quot; Georges went on, &quot;if I had
+not hoped to arrange matters amicably, even against your will,--if I
+had not thought I could persuade him to withdraw his crazy challenge!
+But the swindler has resolved to fight you; it is the greatest social
+triumph that he has achieved in all the years that he has been trying
+to climb. Kilary told me, in so many words, that it was only for show,
+that it was to be a mere formality,--but--. Even that cynic, Kilary,
+declares that he cannot understand your condescension. Well, you rank
+so high in public opinion, that people will only wonder at your
+eccentricity. Will you say good-bye to Fritz, or shall we go
+immediately?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz had fallen asleep, Oswald would not disturb him, and so they rode
+off.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There must have been a storm in the neighbourhood; the air had grown
+cooler, a light wind whirled the dust aloft. Heavy broken clouds were
+driving overhead, and where the sun had set there was a glow as of a
+conflagration, as if the sun in descending had set fire to the clouds.
+The red light slowly faded, and all colours were merged in melancholy,
+uniform gray.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The two men rode on in silence, which was broken at last by Oswald;
+&quot;Georges, I know that if this affair turns out badly to-morrow you will
+be blamed for your share in it, blameless though you be. Wherefore I
+will leave a letter behind me, telling how I absolutely forced you to
+be my second.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What an idea!&quot; exclaimed Georges angrily; then he added
+affectionately--&quot;if so terrible a misfortune should occur, I should
+have neither heart nor head to care what people said! Moreover, after
+what Kilary told me, there can be no chance of any tragical conclusion
+to the affair.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;One never can tell,&quot; rejoined Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges was startled, and after a short pause began. &quot;Don't be
+childish, Ossi! It depends entirely upon you whether this duel ends
+harmlessly or not;--there's not much honour to be gained in provoking a
+mad dog. Since you condescend--to my utter mystification--to fight with
+Capriani, do not irritate him by disdainful conduct on the ground. A
+very minute portion of courtesy will suffice to satisfy him,--but thus
+much is absolutely necessary!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald made no reply. After a while he turned his horse. &quot;Where are you
+going?&quot; asked Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In a constrained, unnatural voice Oswald replied. &quot;You ride on towards
+home, I should like to go to Rautschin to see Gabrielle, before....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges, who had failed to understand so much in his cousin's behaviour
+through the day, thought this desire at least quite natural. He let
+Oswald go, and rode on alone to Tornow. He looked round once after
+Oswald, and was surprised to see him ride so slowly,--he was walking
+his horse.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">What the young man wanted was,--not to clasp his betrothed in his
+arms,--all that he wanted by this prolongation of his ride was the
+postponement of the interview with his mother. When he reached
+Rautschin he stopped short and looked up at the windows of the castle.
+He thought of the first happy days of his betrothal in Paris; image
+after image passed before his mind with beguiling sweetness;--for a
+moment he forgot everything.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The windows of the corner drawing-room where the family were wont to
+pass their evenings were open;--he listened. He could hear them
+talking, and could distinguish Zinka's soft, somewhat veiled tones, and
+the sweet, childlike voice of his betrothed, but without catching her
+words;--once he heard her laugh merrily, almost ungovernably. When was
+it that he had last heard that very laugh? He shuddered,--it was on the
+evening of his betrothal in the Avenue Labédoyère--when Zoë Melkweyser
+had unfolded her ridiculous mission.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And from out the past resounded distinctly on his ear; &quot;Gabrielle and
+the son of the Conte Capriani--! Gabrielle and the son of Capriani!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He struck his forehead with his fist.--Over the low wall on this side
+of the castle, that separated the park from the road, hung the branch
+of a rose-bush heavy with Marèchale Niel roses. Oswald plucked one,
+kissed it, and tossed it through the open window of the drawing-room.
+&quot;Good-night, Gabrielle!&quot; he called up.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When she came to the window to bid him welcome, she saw only a horseman
+enveloped in a cloud of dust trotting quickly past the castle in the
+direction of the little town.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">Night had set in, and Oswald had not yet returned to Tornow. The
+Countess was waiting for him, sitting beside a table whereon stood a
+lamp with a rose-coloured shade. Georges had told her that her boy had
+gone round by the way of Rautschin, which she had thought quite
+natural, but none the less was she anxious for his return.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The clock struck a quarter past ten; perhaps he had returned after all
+and had not come to her. But no, he would certainly have come to ask
+after her health; he had thought her looking ill to-day, and had been
+anxious about her, had tenderly begged her to lie down for a while to
+recover the sleep that she had lost on his account. She had tried to
+smile at him unconcernedly, but it had been a hard task; a casual
+remark by Pistasch that morning had informed her of Oswald's interview
+with Capriani in Prague, at which no one else had been present, and
+which had agitated him excessively. She divined his misery. His love
+for her, and his confidence in her were so unbounded that he regarded
+his torturing suspicion as an <i>idée fixe</i>. Perhaps this temporary
+distress of his would pass away without its cause ever being mentioned
+between them. God grant it might! But if not? If he should come to
+her to-day or to-morrow and say 'Mother I cannot of myself be rid of
+this,--forgive me, mother, if I lay down at your feet this burden that
+oppresses me, and beg you to soothe my pain!'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She shuddered as this possibility occurred to her. What answer should
+she make? 'Shall I have the strength to lie?' she asked herself, and
+then she told herself, 'I must find the strength; what do I care about
+myself? My whole life for years has been falsehood and deceit,--but he
+must have peace--his life I must save!'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She knew that if she could succeed in uttering this lie calmly, his
+suspicion would be laid at rest forever, that no evidence in the world
+would prevail with him against her word. How she should continue to
+live on after this lie, was quite another thing, but she could die, and
+God knew she would willingly lay down her life for her child.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She tried to shake off these evil forebodings. All that she dreaded
+might never come to pass; surely she might succeed, by preserving a
+calm, circumspect demeanour, in slaying his doubt, in destroying his
+suspicion without recurring to a direct falsehood.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Poor woman! Upright to a rare degree as was her nature in its essence,
+it became distorted beneath the terrible burden weighing on her, and
+she was ready to resort to every petty artifice that could afford her
+any stay in her miserably false position! She had buried her sin deep,
+deep, and had reared above it a wondrous temple sacred to all that is
+fairest, noblest, and most unselfish in the world. So grand and firm
+was this temple towering aloft to the blue skies, that she dreamed it
+would endure forever. She trusted it would. Out of love for her child
+she had grown devout. For years she had prayed the same prayer every
+evening: &quot;Oh God! I thank Thee for my dear, noble child--accept his
+excellence, as an atonement for my sin!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She believed that God had heeded her prayer, nay, she even believed, in
+her boundless affection for her child, that God had wrought a miracle
+in her behalf! She forgot that the great mysterious Power that shapes
+our destinies never transgresses the laws that it has made, and that
+the consequences of our guilt inexorably pursue their way, until their
+natural expiation is fulfilled. In this case that expiation took a
+shape far different from any that a mother's tender heart could have
+devised.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The clock had struck eleven. Her anxiety increased although she could
+not have defined her dread. Her windows were open, she listened;--at
+last there was the sound of hoofs, the jingle of a bit and bridle. She
+breathed a sigh of relief.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A few moments elapsed, and then a weary, lagging step came along the
+corridor to her door;--why did that step instantly reveal to her that
+the decisive moment had come? There was a knock at her door,--Oswald
+entered. &quot;Forgive me for disturbing you so late, mamma,&quot; he said in a
+tone lacking all animation, &quot;I saw your light from below....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Late?--it is hardly eleven o'clock; you know that you never disturb
+me, dear child. Since when have you learned to knock at my door? The
+next thing you will send in your name.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The forced gayety of her tone did not escape him. &quot;Oh, I did not
+know--I--&quot; he murmured vaguely, dropping, without kissing, the hand
+which she extended to him; then he took a seat near her, but outside of
+the little oasis of light shed by the lamp on the table beside the
+Countess.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;You came home by the way of Rautschin?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Are they all well there?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I do not know; I did not go in, it was too late.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And Fritz? How is the poor fellow?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Very ill!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Did you give him my message?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, he sends you his thanks.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald seemed metamorphosed. Never before had he answered her so
+curtly; she glanced at him anxiously, he was sitting leaning forward,
+his elbows on his knees, his head resting on his hand like one longing
+to carry out a terrible resolve.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">A distressing silence ensues. He feels as if he were about to ask of a
+competent authority whether or not there be a God. He cannot bring
+himself to do it, and then too how shall he shape the fearful
+question?--how can he utter anything so vile in her presence?--he who
+all his lifelong would rather have blasphemed in a church than have
+spoken an evil syllable before his mother!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The minutes pass; tick, tick, goes the antique watch with the silver
+face on the Countess's writing-table. He clears his throat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother!&quot; he begins.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She interrupts him. &quot;I feel very ill, Ossi!&quot; she says, rising with
+difficulty from her arm-chair, &quot;give me your arm, I should like to go
+to bed.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But he gently urges her back in her chair again. &quot;Only a moment,
+mother; I have something to say to you,--I cannot spare you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Well--say it then!&quot; She sits erect, deadly pale, clutching the arms of
+her chair; he stands before her, one hand resting on the table, his
+eyes cast down.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;It will not pass my lips,&quot; he murmurs, &quot;it will not;--my <i>idée fixe</i>
+has assailed me again with a strength that I cannot master, try
+as I may,--it perverts and absorbs my sense of duty, my
+conscientiousness.--Mother....!&quot; the blood rushes to his face,
+&quot;Mother--could you forgive me if, in a fit of madness, I struck you in
+the face?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Can she ever forget the imploring, despairing tone of his voice?</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, what do you wish?--I cannot understand--&quot; she stammers.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He gazes at her in surprise. &quot;Mother!&quot; he exclaims--his breath comes
+short and quick, when, as though repeating memorised phrases, he says,
+&quot;Capriani and I have quarrelled--to revenge himself upon me he has
+written me a letter in which he says that you----&quot; he sees her sudden
+start--&quot;Great God! can you dream of what he accuses you?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She gasps for breath, her lips part, she tries with all her strength to
+say &quot;no!&quot;--has God stricken her dumb? Struggle as she may only a faint
+gasp issues from her lips, no word can she speak!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Mother!&quot; he moans, &quot;Mother!&quot; She is mute.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The ground seems to rock beneath his feet, the outlines of every object
+grow indistinct, dissolve into undefined spots of colour which fade and
+mingle.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">For a moment he stands as if turned to stone; then he turns towards the
+door, walking slowly as if under a crushing weight,--on a sudden he
+hears the rustle of skirts behind him, two frail, ice-cold hands clasp
+his arm;--half-fainting his mother crouches beside him on the floor.
+&quot;My son! my child!&quot; she gasps &quot;Have mercy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But he loosens the clasp of her hands, without impatience, without
+anger, with the apathy of a man whose heart has been slain in his
+breast, and leaves the room.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">It was over,--over and gone,--sentence had been pronounced,--her
+child's life was destroyed. This she repeated to herself again and
+again, without any clear comprehension of the fact, as she lay, still
+half-stunned, on the floor where she had sunk down when he left her.
+After a while she staggered to her feet, and began to move aimlessly to
+and fro, steadying herself at times by grasping a chair or table. At
+last she sank into a seat, her memory had given way;--she asked herself
+the meaning of the dull weight at her heart, her eyes wandered vaguely
+around, her thoughts dazed by agony groped backward through the past,
+and forward through the future, finding no resting-place. She recalled
+her child's birth, and how every one rejoiced in it, except herself;
+when the doctor showed her the little thing as a perfect model of a
+baby, did she not thrust it from her impatiently? Farther back, beyond
+Oswald's birth, all light faded--everything was dark. That within her
+which had sinned had been so long, so completely dead; a woman capable
+of such a lofty ideal, whom maternal affection had so entirely purified
+and refined, could not but lose all comprehension of her past. All her
+inner life preceding the hours of Oswald's life, was to her mental
+consciousness misty and undefined; the birth of her child had revealed
+a new world to her, and though for years she had denied it, and had
+crushed down the mother in her, it was none the less true that after
+his birth she had no interest save her child. Urgent regard for her
+health prompted the physician to order that she should nourish
+the boy herself, if only for the first two months of his life; she
+obeyed him fretfully, eyeing the child suspiciously--nay, well-nigh
+malignantly,--when it was first placed in her arms, and then .... then
+she enjoyed it, and longed for the hours when her baby was to be
+brought to her, and when the two months were over, and the physician
+informed her that she could now without detriment to her health hand
+over the child to a hired nurse, she was angry, and felt strangely
+vexed with the man, who after all had thought only to please her in
+relieving her of what he supposed was an intolerable burden. What was
+intolerable to her was the idea of laying her child on the breast of a
+stranger, and for an instant she was on the point of flatly refusing to
+do it. But no, that would have been too eccentric, and she gave the boy
+up. For a couple of days she feared she should lose her reason, so
+consumed was she with restless jealousy; she could not sleep at night,
+and when the hours came round at which her baby had usually been
+brought to her, she trembled from head to foot, and sometimes burst
+into tears of agitation and longing. She could not forget the warm
+little bundle that had lain upon her knees, and the boy had thriven so
+well in her arms, had begun to be so pretty, to smile back at her and
+to gaze slowly about him in solemn surprise, after the fashion of such
+human atomies, to whom everything around is strange, and a deep
+mystery. Still she conquered herself and avoided all sight of the
+child, trying to divert her mind, but--'the wine of life was drawn.'</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The child's existence caused her infinite torment; she was not one whom
+shams could satisfy. She called everything by its right name, and this
+foisting of a false heir upon the Lodrins she called, in her soul a
+crime. Sometimes she wished he would die--that would have untangled
+everything;--good Heavens! how many children die! but he--was never
+even ill, he throve and grew strong.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Count, who had never before ventured upon the slightest
+remonstrances with his headstrong wife, now reproached her continually
+for her neglect of the child. She listened to him with brows gloomily
+contracted and lips compressed, but said not a word in reply. In winter
+she could contrive never to see the boy, but in summer this was more
+difficult, especially at times when her husband declared that he could
+receive no guests at the castle, that he wished to be alone. She
+could hardly set foot in the park without hearing soft childish
+laughter, or without seeing some plaything, or the gleam of a little
+white dress among the bushes. Once, on a lovely day in June, after a
+thunder-shower, as she was walking in the park she suddenly noticed two
+tiny footprints on the damp gravel. She stood still, her eyes riveted
+upon the delicate outlines, when from the shrubbery close at hand a
+little creature toddled up to her, grasped her dress with his chubby
+hands and looked up roguishly at her out of his large dark eyes. But
+she extricated herself, and hurried past the little man so quickly and
+impatiently, that he lost his balance and fell down. What else could
+she do but turn and look at him....? Had he cried like other children
+of his age it would probably have made no impression upon her; but he
+sat stock-still, his little legs stretched out straight, and gazed at
+her in indignant surprise like, a little king to whom homage had been
+denied. He could not understand it. He was a comical little fellow,
+with tiny red shoes, a white frock that did not reach to his bare
+knees, and a broad-brimmed, starched, linen hat tied beneath his chin,
+shading his charming little face. In a flash her heart was conscious of
+a consuming thirst; she stooped and lifted him in her arms.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Some children there are who dislike to be caressed, and will fretfully
+turn away their heads from their mother's kisses, but little Ossi was
+of a different stamp, and responded with a bewitching readiness to his
+mother's tenderness, nestling his head on her shoulder with a satisfied
+chuckle, and pressing his little lips to her cheek. For just one moment
+she resolved to yield, she would forget everything, and take her fill
+of kisses, and of delight in his beauty, in his bright eager looks, and
+in the droll way in which words, robbed of every harsh consonant by
+rosy little lips, came rippling like the twittering of birds.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Papa!--Papa!&quot; the child shouted. She looked round,--there stood the
+old Count watching her in mute delight.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Has he conquered you too at last?&quot; he exclaimed, &quot;there's no finer
+little fellow in all Austria than our Ossi!&quot; And he held out his hands
+to the child. She let him be taken from her, and without a word walked
+away toward the castle. Ah, what a wretched night she passed after this
+episode! No, she would not think of him, it hurt too much.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Time passed; for weeks she would not look at him; then suddenly she
+would appear when he was taking his lessons, and for a couple of days
+she would watch him with a morbid intensity which sometimes degenerated
+into lurking distrust; then finding nothing to justify the distrust she
+would again turn from him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">In spite of his excellent disposition the boy might perhaps have grown
+up a good-natured but inconsiderate egotist, had not Count Lodrin taken
+an unwearied interest in his training, guiding him aright with the most
+affectionate gentleness. The influence of the frail old man upon the
+child was invaluable. In the society of an invalid so tender and so
+loving, the boy learned what he could have learned nowhere else,--to
+bow before weakness, and helplessness, the only two potentates whose
+sway natures as proud as Oswald's acknowledge. He learned to refine his
+innate haughtiness by the most considerate delicacy towards his
+inferiors, and to consider his pride as inseparable from devotion to
+duty and an impregnable sense of honour.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Sometimes the Countess would steal to the door of the library, where
+the father and son were wont to talk together, and would listen. She
+did so once when the old man was seriously reproving the boy for some
+rudeness that he had shown towards his tutor.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I know it, papa, I am wrong, but Herr Müller is a coarse kind of man,
+and I cannot abide coarseness,&quot; she heard the boy say, and the old man
+rejoined gently, &quot;He is unfortunate, Ossi, remember that before all.
+How, think you, could he endure his lot if in his veins ran such blood
+as yours?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">All things swam before the mother's eyes, as with downcast looks she
+hurried away, locked herself in her room and wrung her hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">* * * * *
+She never addressed a kind word to him, treating him with studied
+indifference, with almost malignant severity. Under such treatment the
+boy suffered, grew pale, thin, and nervous. Then came a damp, warm
+autumn, the skies were every day veiled behind leaden clouds,--it
+drizzled continually without actually raining, and the leaves instead
+of falling rotted on the trees. A terrible epidemic broke out in the
+country around Tornow, and raged like a pestilence, carrying off victim
+after victim, until at last it appeared in the market town itself.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Count, fanatically faithful as ever to the duties of his position,
+would not leave Tornow for fear of increasing the panic, but he
+entreated his wife to go away and take the boy with her, but this she
+obstinately refused to do, not even allowing Oswald with his tutor to
+be sent to her relatives.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">One morning the Count came to her saying, &quot;Ossi has the fever! The
+disease is of a malignant and contagious character; it is quite
+unnecessary that you should expose yourself to it, Schmidt and I can
+take care of him.&quot; Whereupon he left her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She was fearfully agitated; the hour of her liberation was perhaps
+about to strike; she determined not to lift a finger to save the
+child's life. She forced herself to keep away from his sick-room for
+several days; the boy rapidly grew worse; for his recovery the Count
+had mass said in the chapel of the castle, although he himself was not
+present at it,--he would not leave the child's bedside; but of course
+the Countess attended at the religious celebration. She was very
+generally beloved by her servants, but on that day she could see on
+their faces ill-concealed surprise, nay, scarce-repressed indignation,
+beneath their conventional expression of respect.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">After the Elevation the chaplain delivered a short discourse in which
+he praised the sick boy's amiable qualities, and requested all to join
+him in imploring God's grace for the heir of the house. Tears ran down
+the cheeks of all the old servants while the priest prayed, but the
+Countess kneeled on her <i>prie-dieu</i>, her face pale, her eyes tearless,
+her lips scarcely moving.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The day wore on; hour after hour passed into eternity, the early
+autumnal twilight descended from the gray clouds upon the earth, and
+gradually deepened to black night; throughout the castle reigned
+unbroken silence, and not even outside was heard the sound of a falling
+leaf. The Countess's pulses throbbed with a feverish longing for her
+child, that nearly drove her mad. She wondered if he in turn did not
+feel a yearning for her presence?--if his grief at her absence from his
+sick-bed did not aggravate the disease?--how if it were killing him?
+She pictured him borne away upon the dark, swiftly-rushing stream of
+eternity so close beside her that she might have stretched forth her
+hand to save him,--and she dared not! Oh, that she could have commanded
+fate, &quot;Take him, I will not keep him, but take me too!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Minutes grew to hours; perhaps at that very instant he was breathing
+his last. She sprang up,--she would not nurse him back to life, no, but
+she must see him once more, once more clasp him to her heart before he
+died.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She hurried to the door of the sick-room, listened, and heard the low
+monotonous moan that is wrung from a half-conscious sufferer. She
+entered; at the foot of the bed sat the old Count, bent and weary.
+Schmidt, Oswald's old nurse, was applying a cold, wet towel to the
+boy's forehead. The Countess took it from her, thrust her aside with
+jealous haste, and herself laid the wet cloth upon her son's head.
+Strange! at the touch of her hand he opened his eyes, and even in his
+half-unconscious state, recognised her with a faint, wondering smile.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">From that hour she never left his bedside. The famous physician in whom
+she had great confidence, and for whom she telegraphed to Vienna,
+frequently declared afterwards: &quot;Never have I seen a child nursed with
+such devotion by a mother!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She tended him like a sister of charity,--like a maid-servant. She
+gloried in his refusal to allow any one else to wait upon him, that he
+screamed with pain when another hand than hers touched him, that he
+turned from his medicine if she did not administer it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The crisis passed; the physician pronounced all danger over if no
+unforeseen relapse occurred. This he made known to the Count and
+Countess in the antechamber of the sick-room, whither they had
+withdrawn to hear his opinion. When the Count feelingly thanked him for
+saving his child's life, Doctor M .... denied that any credit was due to
+him, &quot;my share,&quot; said he, &quot;in this fortunate result is but trifling;
+the recovery of our little patient is owing solely to the wonderful
+nursing that he has been blessed with,&quot; and turning to the Countess he
+added respectfully, &quot;Your Excellency may say with pride that your child
+owes his life to you for the second time.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The ground seemed to reel beneath her,--she could have shouted for joy,
+and yet never in her life had she been so wretched as at this blissful,
+terrible moment. Without a word she returned to the sick-room, and sat
+down by the little white bed; she motioned to Schmidt who had been
+watching the boy's sleep, to retire, she wanted to be alone with her
+child. He was sleeping soundly, his breath came and went regularly, and
+his brown head rested comfortably on the pillow. She could not look
+long enough at the dear little emaciated face, wearing now a smile in
+sleep. He was like herself, his every feature resembled hers, his
+straight, broad brow, the short, delicately chiselled nose, the finely
+curved mouth, firm chin, nay, even the gleam of gold in the dark hair
+about the temples, all were her own. Even his hands lying half-closed
+on the coverlet resembled hers; they were longer and more muscular, but
+they were shaped like hers. How she admired him, how proud she was of
+him in her inmost soul! She had not been able to let him die,--he <i>owed
+his life to her for the second time!</i> It was useless to combat a
+feeling that always gained the upper-hand; but how was she to adjust
+herself to her false position?--what was her duty? This question she
+asked herself in desperate earnest, honestly ready to atone for her
+guilt by any sacrifice. Her stern, cold duty was perhaps to go to her
+husband, confess to him the terrible truth, and then, with her child,
+and with all the means that was her own, depart for some quarter of the
+world where amid strangers she could provide a tolerable existence for
+her boy. She shuddered!--her own disgrace was of no consequence;
+she suffered so fearfully beneath the weight of the falsehood of her
+life, that it would have been a relief to burst its bonds,--but her
+child!--Why, in comparison with the torture to which her confession
+would subject him, it would be merciful to stab him to the heart. He
+was too old and too precocious not to appreciate fully the disgrace of
+his position; he was too proud and too sensitive to find any
+consolation or support under such fearful circumstances in the love of
+a dishonoured mother.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She must continue to carry out the lie. Who would thus be the
+sufferer?--Her own conscience; hers must be the torture! A confession
+would ruin the existence of her husband, and her son, and would
+overwhelm two families with disgrace, while now ....! The only being who
+had any claim to the Lodrin estates was a good-for-naught, who never
+could be to his people what Oswald promised to be. And suddenly she
+seemed to see her duty clear before her, a noble sacrificial duty!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She would so train Oswald that he should fill the station that he
+occupied better than any other could possibly fill it,--his excellence
+should justify her deceit.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She solemnly vowed, by her child's bedside, to watch over his heart and
+soul, to guard his fine qualities like a priceless treasure, to see
+that no breath of evil should ever taint them. Then she bent over him
+and kissed his hands gently. He woke and smiled, whispering, &quot;Mamma,
+will you go on loving me when I am well?&quot;</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Love him indeed! Ah, how she petted and indulged him during his long
+convalescence, how willingly she complied with all his little whims,
+how gladly she submitted to the exactions of his affection, half
+selfish though they were at times, as those of an invalid on the road
+to recovery are so apt to be! How well she knew how to amuse, and
+occupy him! how many games of chess and of cards she played with him!
+how she read aloud for his entertainment, albeit unused to such
+exertion, Cooper's Leatherstocking Tales, and Dumas' <i>Trois
+Mousquetaires</i>!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When he had fully recovered, her treatment of him was more serious. She
+kept the vow she had made to herself, she watched his every impulse,
+his every breath, spared no pains to train him to be,--what he must be
+to satisfy her conscience, her pride,--a blessing to all around him.
+She even did what was for her the hardest task of all, she repressed
+her tenderness for him, lest it should make him effeminate. She made it
+her duty, when the time came for him to resume his studies, to engage a
+new tutor for him, and, quite out of patience with the cringing,
+fawning candidates for the position that had hitherto made their
+appearance in Tornow, she wrote to a foreign Professor of her
+acquaintance asking him to aid her in procuring the person whom she
+needed. A month later there came to Tornow a young fellow with the
+lightest possible hair standing up like a brush above a very
+intelligent face, not at all handsome, ruddy, clean-shaven, and with a
+very sympathetic expression. He carried himself erect, and his manner,
+while it was perfectly easy, was never obtrusive. He was much
+interested in his profession of tutor, although he fully recognised its
+difficulties, and it never occurred to him to regard it simply as a
+provision for impecunious scholars whose hopes were bounded by the
+prospect of a future pension. Oswald ridiculed the Prussians, until
+this particular Prussian not only compelled his respect, but won his
+friendship.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess's social relations dwindled to a point; everything that
+interfered with her care for her child wearied her. She was often
+present while his lessons were going on, she rode with him daily, and
+he and his tutor always took their meals with the Count and Countess.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">She adjusted her life by her boy in every respect. One word from Ossi
+sufficed, where her mother's and her brother's entreaties had failed,
+to produce a change in her hard, impatient bearing towards her invalid
+husband. It was long before she perceived how her conduct in this
+respect wounded Ossi's feelings; she sometimes wondered what depressed
+the boy. It made her anxious, and one day she asked him about it.
+Taking his face tenderly between both her hands she said, &quot;How sad your
+eyes are, Ossi, does anything trouble you?&quot; For a moment he hesitated,
+and then he spoke out bravely. &quot;Mother, dear, you are so very kind to
+every one else; be a little kind to papa!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She started, turned pale, and left the room without a word; he looked
+after her anxiously. Had he alienated her affection again?</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">No! that which all the arguments and representations of her mother and
+brother had failed to accomplish a couple of words from boyish lips had
+achieved. From that hour she testified towards her invalid husband the
+unvarying respect, the careful regard of a dutiful daughter, and
+although his various, and increasing infirmities,--he lost his
+hearing, and very nearly his eyesight,--becoming at last a complete
+paralytic,--made her tendance upon him most distressing, she was
+never again betrayed into uttering an impatient word. Hers was a hard
+task--especially at the beginning--a very hard task! But what of that?
+Ossi was pleased with her, and that was reward enough! She had learned
+to read his eyes; for love of him she altered everything in herself
+that could displease him, although he himself could not have explained
+why; she purified and strengthened her character day by day, and really
+became the mother that he dreamed her.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The old Count died; Georges Lodrin had disappeared. An American
+newspaper announced his death, and as the announcement was not
+contradicted it was held to be true. Georges was the last heir; at his
+death the property would have escheated to the government; thus the
+Countess need no longer be tormented by the thought that she was
+depriving another of his rights.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Days of cloudless delight ensued; Ossi grew to manhood, left her
+protecting arms, and launched forth upon the broad, perilous stream of
+life, while she, gazing after him anxiously, was forced to stay upon
+the shore. The time was past when tenderly, delicately, and yet with a
+certain shyness of the son already a head taller than herself, she
+could ask to know all of his life, could extort from him his small
+confessions. She had to leave him to himself, with, at times, a secret
+tremor. Only secret, however; she would not interfere with his freedom
+of action. Praise of him greeted her on all sides; she was satisfied
+with her work.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was like her in every way, even in his faults; but those faults
+which had wrought her ruin,--pride, and passionate blood--became him
+well. There was no throne upon earth that she did not consider him
+worthy to fill, and which should not have been his if she could have
+given it to him; there was no conceivable torture that she would not
+have borne willingly if thereby she could have added to his happiness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">His excellence was her justification; her maternal love was her
+religion.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">She still sat in the same arm-chair where she had resolved to utter the
+falsehood, which, after all, her lips had refused to speak! Her heart
+seemed to have burst in twain, and from it had fallen the whole
+treasury of fair memories which she had stored within it; her slain
+joys lay about her in disarray, shattered, dead. She tried to collect
+them, groping for them in memory; all at once her thoughts hurried to
+the future,--the confusion subsided,--she understood!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She moaned, and stroked back the hair from her temples; her wandering
+glance fell upon a newspaper lying on her table. The date caught her
+eye,--the sixth of August,--she started, the morrow was his birthday!
+She remembered the little surprise she had prepared for him; she had
+selected from among her jewels something very rare and beautiful which
+he could give to his betrothed. Rising from her chair, she said to
+herself aloud, &quot;The marriage is impossible!&quot; Then followed the
+question, &quot;What will he do, how will he live on?&quot;--&quot;Live?&quot; she
+repeated, and on the instant a wild dread assailed her. &quot;For God's
+sake!&quot; she groaned, &quot;that must not be, I must prevent it.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Again her thoughts hurried confusedly through her mind. She would go to
+him, and on her knees before him entreat, &quot;Despise me, curse me, but be
+happy, live to bless those whose fate lies in your hands, and who could
+find no better master. The injustice of it I will answer for here, and
+before God's judgment-seat! Or--if you cannot sustain the burden of
+these unlawful possessions, cast it off. Let my name be blasted, I
+deserve nothing better. But you,--you live, take everything that is
+mine and that is yours of right, and found a new existence for yourself
+wherever it may be!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She hurried out into the corridor, wild, beside herself. Before his
+door she paused, overcome by a horrible sense of shame,--she could
+never again look him in the face! What would have been the use? Another
+might perhaps compromise philosophically with circumstances. But
+he,--detestation of the blood flowing in his veins, would kill him! She
+raised her arms, and then dropped them at her sides, like some wounded
+bird, that, dying in the dust, makes one last vain effort to stir its
+wings to bear it to its lost heaven. Then she kneeled down and pressed
+her lips upon the threshold of his door before groping her staggering
+way back to her room.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The mood in which Conte Capriani took his place beside Kilary in the
+victoria that was to carry him to the place of meeting, was a very
+strange one. Never had he felt such pride of victory; his thoughts
+reverted to his first meeting with the beautiful Countess Lodrin at the
+beginning of his career, when with his keen scent for all that was
+lowest in human beings, he had divined her passionate nature, a nature
+held in check with despotic resolution after the great disappointment
+of her early life.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With calculating cunning he had plotted and schemed to get her into his
+power. But when at last he thought he had quelled and broken her pride,
+she suddenly reared her head more haughtily than ever, and thrust him
+from her.--He had not believed such audacity possible!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">And now the woman whom he had thought to tread beneath his feet stood
+at so unattainable a height above him, that his treachery was of no
+avail as a weapon against her. How his heart had been consumed by
+futile rage! Only the day before yesterday she had dared to send him
+word by Zoë Melkweyser that she did not remember him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;But it is my turn now,&quot; he thought, &quot;this duel has forced an
+explanation between herself and Oswald,--she has had to humble
+herself before her child!&quot; A fiendish exultation thrilled him to his
+very finger-tips. &quot;At last they must bow before me,&quot; he said to
+himself.--&quot;Mother and son, the two haughtiest of the whole haughty
+crowd!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It never occurred to him that this explanation which he had forced so
+relentlessly upon the mother and son could have results other than
+those which he contemplated. Absolutely content, for the first time in
+his life, he leaned back among the cushions slowly puffing forth big
+clouds of smoke into the fresh morning air, as the carriage approached
+the old monastery of St. Elizabeth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was a large building blackened by time, standing quite isolated at
+about half a league from Tornow upon fallow land. Formerly a monastery,
+afterwards a hospital, and then a poor-house, it was now one of those
+melancholy ruins that only await the pickaxe of demolition. The walls
+were dirty, the windows black, with half the panes broken and patched
+up with paper.--Two grape-vines trailed over the grass where once had
+been a garden, and a couple of knotty mulberry-trees grew close to the
+ruinous walls.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Leaning against one of these walls stood an ancient black, wooden
+crucifix; the nail that had held fast the right hand of The Crucified
+had fallen out and the arm hung loose, lending to the rudely-carved
+image a strange reality. It looked as if the Saviour in the death
+struggle had torn away his bleeding hand from the cross to bless
+mankind with it once more.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Beneath the figure of Christ was a tablet with an inscription, the gilt
+letters of which, much faded by time, still glistened in the morning
+sunlight.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The atmosphere was unusually clear, the skies cloudless. Oswald,
+Georges, and old Doctor Swoboda arrived before Capriani; whilst Georges
+and Doctor Swoboda walked about the old building discussing various
+parts of it to keep themselves cool, Oswald leaned against the doorway
+of the old cloister, and gazed silently into the distance. Not a trace
+was perceptible of the irritability which Georges had observed on the
+previous day. His was the repose of one who sees the goal where the
+terrible burden with which destiny has laden him can be cast off.--His
+soul was filled with anguish, but was conscious of the remedy at
+hand.--Release went hand in hand with duty.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Dear old memories arose upon his mind,--vaguely as if obscured by thick
+vapour. His mother's image hovered before him; he clasped his hands
+tightly, stood erect, threw back his head and looked upwards as
+desperate men always do before final exhaustion. His glance fell upon
+the Christ; the tablet at His feet attracted his attention, he
+approached it.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What have you found there?&quot; asked Georges, with forced carelessness.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;I am only trying to decipher the inscription,&quot; replied Oswald.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The inscription?--'God--God--have....'&quot; Georges spelled out.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'God have mercy upon us all!'&quot; Oswald read, and at that moment the old
+iron-barred gate of the monastery garden creaked on its hinges,--Kilary
+entered first and Oswald returned his bow with friendly ease. But when
+the Conte, following Kilary closely, bowed with a sweet smile Oswald
+scarcely touched his hat.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Conte glanced keenly at him; for an instant his eyes encountered
+those of the young man and gazed into their depths, but found nothing
+there save immeasurable disgust.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The conditions of the duel called for thirty paces with an advance on
+each side of ten paces. The seconds measured off thirty paces and at
+the distance of ten paces apart laid two canes down on the grass.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The whole proceeding was to Georges a disgusting farce; he seemed to be
+acting as in a dream, without any will of his own. It was impossible
+that his cousin Oswald Lodrin should condescend to fight with this
+adventurer.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald and the Conte took their places, the seconds gave the signal. On
+the instant Oswald shot wide of the Conte. A brief, dreadful pause
+ensued; the Conte hesitated. With utter disdain in his eyes, his head
+held erect, Oswald advanced; the Conte had never seen him look so
+haughty.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sight of the handsome set face recalled to the adventurer the
+manifold humiliations that he had been obliged to endure all his
+lifelong at the arrogant hands of 'these people.' All his hatred for
+the entire caste blazed up within him,--all power of reflection gone he
+blindly discharged his pistol!</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald felt something like a hard cold blow on his breast,--a crimson
+cloud seemed to rise out of the earth before him, he staggered and
+fell.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Good God!&quot; exclaimed Georges quite beside himself, as he raised the
+dying man in his arms and held him there while the old Doctor bent over
+him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Oswald opened his eyes. His mind was somewhat astray,--everything about
+him seemed wavering vaguely; then, in the midst of the terrible,
+chaotic confusion of every sense that precedes dissolution he made a
+mighty effort to grasp and hold a thought that glided indistinctly
+through his half-darkened mind. &quot;Georges,&quot; he gasped, &quot;what day of the
+month is it?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;The seventh of August.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;My birthday.&quot;--Suddenly his mind grew clear once more, and there came
+over him the incredible celerity of thought, the wonderful illumination
+of vision of the dying, who in a moment of time grasp the memory of an
+entire life. As the earth slipped away from him he was able to judge
+human weaknesses in the light of eternity.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Georges!&quot; he began.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Yes, dear old fellow!&quot; said Georges softly, in a choked voice.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Tell my mother--and for God's sake do not forget--that for the happy
+twenty-six years that are past I thank her, and that I kiss her dear,
+dear hands in token of farewell!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He was silent, he breathed with difficulty,--his lips moved again,
+and Georges put his ear down to them that he might understand
+him--&quot;Georges,--if I have ever done you wrong,--you or any one else in
+my life--without knowing it,--then....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;Ah Ossi, would to God that I could ever lay down my head as calmly and
+proudly as you can,&quot; whispered Georges, clasping him closer in his
+arms.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The dying man smiled--possessed by a great calm. He knew that what had
+been his secret was his own forever.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">He tried to raise himself a little, rivetting his eyes upon the
+crucifix;--the gilt letters gleamed in the morning light. He lifted his
+hand by an effort, to make the sign of the cross,--Georges guided his
+hand. A bluish pallor appeared upon his features,--twice a tremor ran
+through his limbs, his hands fell clinched by his side--his lips moved
+for the last time. &quot;Poor Ella!&quot; he murmured scarcely audibly.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">God have mercy upon us all!</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess Lodrin had passed the night without lying down. When her
+maid appeared to see if her mistress were not ill, she had been
+dismissed by a mute wave of the hand. At last, towards morning, sitting
+beside her writing-table, she had fallen into the leaden sleep that is
+wont to follow terrible mental agitation.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The sun was high in the heavens when she awoke with stiffened limbs and
+a dull pain at her heart, but without any distinct consciousness of
+misfortune. She looked around her, and started, perceiving that some
+strange commotion was astir in the castle; she could hear footsteps
+overhead, and outside her door.--She hurried out, the corridor was
+filled with people--people who had no claim to be up here. And all the
+servants were hurrying hither and thither in the confusion of a
+household where some catastrophe has occurred, all weeping, trembling,
+not one showing unsympathetic curiosity, and amongst them was Pistasch,
+vainly trying to quiet the loud howling of Oswald's Newfoundland.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is the matter?&quot; the Countess shrieked,--&quot;what has happened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But no one had the courage to answer her. She ran to Oswald's
+bedroom--all gazed after her in horror-stricken compassion; they might
+have restrained her, but who could dare to do so? At the door she met
+Georges.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;What is it?&quot; she gasped, clutching his arm, &quot;where is Ossi?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;In there,&quot; he murmured hoarsely, &quot;but ...!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;'But'--for God's sake tell me what has happened?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A duel,&quot; said Georges with an effort,--he would fain have detained
+her, would fain have found the conventional phrases with which men
+attempt to break bad news, he could not recall any, and he stammered.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;A duel?&quot; she asked sharply, &quot;with whom?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;With Capriani;--he....&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Before he could say another word she had opened the door and had
+entered Oswald's room.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">They had lain him on his bed,--the noble outlines of his stalwart
+figure were distinctly visible beneath the white sheet;--his face was
+uncovered, and bathed in all the ideal charm of dead youth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The Countess staggered, tried to hold herself erect, tripped over her
+dress, and fell; then dragged herself on her knees to the bed of her
+dead child. At its foot she lay, her face buried in her hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">When, two hours afterward, Truyn who had been informed of the frightful
+catastrophe entered the room with Georges Lodrin, she was still
+kneeling in the same place, her head still in her hands.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Profoundly shocked Truyn bent over her, and gently begged her to leave
+the room. She arose mechanically, and leaning upon his arm went to the
+door. There she paused, turned, and hurried back to the bed. They
+feared that force would be necessary to separate her from the dead
+body, when Georges remembered the message entrusted to him by the dying
+man. In the tumult, the horror, in his own terrible grief he had
+forgotten it. &quot;Let me try to persuade her, wait for me here,&quot; said he
+to Truyn, and going to the bedside where the Countess was again
+kneeling he whispered: &quot;Aunt, I have a message for you from him; he
+died in my arms, and while dying he thought of you!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She shrank away from him.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;To-day is his birthday,&quot; Georges continued, &quot;he remembered it in his
+last moments and begged me to tell you, and, for God's sake not to
+forget it, that he thanked you for the past happy twenty-six years, and
+that he kissed your dear, dear hands in token of farewell.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">The wretched woman, who had hitherto seemed carved out of marble, began
+to tremble violently; a hard hoarse sob burst from her lips.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">It was the first warm breath of spring breaking up the ice. She
+instantly rose and threw herself in an agony of tears upon the corpse,
+exclaiming: &quot;My child, my fair, noble boy!&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Georges withdrew; the moment was too sacred to be intruded upon.
+Shortly afterwards she tottered, bent and bowed, from the room. Truyn,
+whom she had not seemed to perceive, offered her his arm, and she
+quietly allowed herself to be led to her own apartment.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">The death of the young man excited universal sympathy. He was mourned
+not only by his relatives and friends, but by all his dependants, the
+peasants on his estates, nay, even by strangers to whom he had only
+been pointed out as he passed by. And on the day when he was buried,
+with all the honours befitting the noble name which he had borne so
+worthily, there was in the whole country round no little child whose
+hands were not folded in prayer for him, no poor labouring woman who
+had ever met him in the road, and whose existence his kindly smile had
+helped to lighten, who did not wear a black apron or a black kerchief,
+in loving memory of him. No one, perhaps, could have told what he or
+she had expected of the young Count, but all felt that with him some
+hope had died, some sunshine had been buried.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Fritz Malzin, the only witness of the insult offered to the Conte, died
+the night before the duel; nothing therefore was known save what the
+Conte chose to tell; the versions of the reasons that had induced
+Oswald's rash acceptance of the Conte's challenge were many and widely
+differing, but not one of them bore the least relation to the truth.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">As Oswald had foreseen, his relatives overwhelmed Georges with
+reproaches for the part he had borne in a duel between his cousin and a
+parvenu. But the letter to Truyn which Oswald left behind, exculpated
+Georges completely.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">People declared, to be sure, that Georges ought to have restrained the
+folly of his hot-tempered cousin, but the unaffected grief evinced by
+the man, hitherto regarded as careless and indifferent, disarmed every
+one. His devotion to his dead cousin revealed itself in his every
+action, in the exquisite tenderness of his treatment of Oswald's
+wretched mother, and his management of the estates thus suddenly fallen
+to him, absolutely in accordance as it was with all Oswald's wishes,
+soon won him the warmest sympathy from all.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Of course the Conte was denounced; Oswald's associates in his own rank
+regarded the man as no better than a murderer. But he coldly defied
+public opinion, and held his head higher than ever; he seemed even to
+pride himself upon his deed, and several newspapers defended him.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<h2>CONCLUSION.</h2>
+<br>
+
+<p class="normal">When in May a white-edged, black cloud discharges a storm of hail upon
+the fresh, green wheat, the tender blades break and are buried out of
+sight beneath heavy sleet; when the storm is past, and the ice melted,
+and the sun once more beaming bright and warm in cloudless skies, the
+bruised blades think they cannot bear the light, and lying close upon
+the ground would fain die. Then over the fields thus laid waste many a
+head is shaken, and many a sigh is breathed for the broken promise of
+the harvest.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">But some there are who, seeing farther and knowing better, shrug their
+shoulders, and say &quot;A hailstorm in spring prostrates, but does not
+kill!&quot; and they look forward hopefully to the future.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gradually, and very slowly, the warm sunshine penetrates the crushed
+blades, awakening and strengthening within them the benumbed forces of
+youth. Before the summer is fully abroad in the land, the wheat stands
+erect and tall, to the inexperienced eye all unharmed, but the
+husbandman can detect the callous ring where the blade was bent, and
+says: &quot;The wheat has been shot in the knee.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Thus it is with youthful souls, crushed to the earth in the spring-time
+of life by some fierce tempest. Slowly but surely the spirit, well-nigh
+wounded to death, recovers, and God grants to the hearts of those whom
+he loves a glorious resurrection.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Gabrielle recovered from the fearful blow that had befallen her,--very
+slowly, and painfully to be sure, but at last. At first indeed, her
+grief was so profound, she suffered so silently, so tearlessly, that
+they feared for her reason, and then, when all seemed darkest to her,
+she was suddenly possessed by an intense, inexplicable yearning to
+return to the pretty home in the Avenue Labédoyère in which the fairest
+hours of her shattered bliss had been spent.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Her desire was complied with; and for many a long winter night Zinka
+sat beside her by the same little white bed where the girl had once
+whispered to her in the delirium of her happiness that it seemed as if
+her heart would break with joy. With tenderest sympathy the young
+stepmother talked of the departed unweariedly with the girl, allowing
+her tears free course, without ever cruelly attempting to restrain the
+expression of her grief. And when Truyn, in despair over such endless
+grieving, unreasonably taxed his wife with exciting Ella's emotion, and
+with hindering her from forgetting, Zinka replied gently, &quot;Let me
+alone; I know what I am doing. There is nothing more terrible, more
+dreadful than the spectre of a grief that has been violently stifled;
+it lurks in wait for us, and persecutes us all the more persistently,
+the more resolutely we thrust it from us. The memory of our beloved
+dead must not be banished, it must be tenderly welcomed and cherished,
+until in time it loses all bitterness, and is ever with us, sad, but
+very dear.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Truyn listened incredulously, but a few weeks later he perceived with
+surprise, and with trembling delight that Gabrielle's pale cheeks began
+to show a faint colour, and that her weary gait grew more elastic. Then
+when he was alone with Zinka he kissed her gratefully, saying &quot;I see
+you understand better than I how to comfort.&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">&quot;And from whom did I learn the art?&quot; she asked in reply, with a loving
+glance, &quot;do you not see that I am only repaying old debts?&quot;</p>
+
+<p class="normal">With the first snowdrops in February came a golden-haired little
+brother for Gabrielle, who, by Zinka's desire was christened &quot;Ossi.&quot;
+Thus Gabrielle learned to utter her dead lover's name without tears.
+She idolizes the little one, and sometimes smiles when she has him in
+her arms; he has given her a fresh interest in life. Georges who came
+to Paris the last of May, only to see the Truyns, and to find out
+especially how Gabrielle was, perceived this with pleasure, and said
+much that was encouraging to Truyn, who is still anxious about his
+sorrowing child. A hailstorm in spring prostrates, but does not kill.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">But when a storm of hail just before harvest beats down the ripened
+ears, the grain never recovers. Bowed down to the earth, broken and
+blasted by the weight of the hailstones, the crop lies prostrate in the
+fields, only awaiting the hand that shall clear it away.</p>
+
+<hr class="W10">
+
+<p class="normal">Never again will the Countess Lodrin rally. Had her health been less
+vigorous she might have died of agony, had her mind been less strong,
+she might have forgotten. But her health is perfect, and her mind clear
+as daylight.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She occupies her modest suite of apartments at Tornow, which Georges
+has prayed her always to consider as her home. Her rooms are but a
+shrine for relics and memorials of the dead. Every object which
+Oswald's hand ever touched is sacred for her. Every benevolent scheme
+devised by Oswald in his generous desire, 'to brighten the existence of
+as many people as possible,' she promotes. She heaps his former
+servants with benefits, his faithful Newfoundland is her constant
+companion. She tried to employ her widow's jointure in buying back
+Schneeburg for poor Fritz's children, but her agent could effect
+nothing against Capriani's obstinacy and millions. At least she
+succeeded in buying Malzin's children of their mother.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">Charlotte married again, another secretary of Capriani's. The little
+Malzins live at Tornow under the care of an English governess, and
+thrive apace. The Countess attends to every detail of their education
+and training, and sees them every day although only for a short time;
+there is no close tie between them. In spring when she hears their
+sweet voices resounding with merriment in the park, she winces, and
+grows paler than usual. She avoids them, but if she encounters them by
+chance she never fails to speak a kind word to them, or to bestow upon
+them a gentle caress. She is no longer capable of a fervent affection
+for any living being. Her heart is a tomb, completely filled by a
+single, idolized, dead son, but for his dear sake she does all the good
+that she can to the living. Thus, even after his departure, she seems
+striving for his approval.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">She devotes the greatest part of her income and of her time to the most
+self-sacrificing benevolence. There is no misery in all the country
+round which she does not search out, and try to alleviate, going from
+hut to hut, and never shrinking from even the most menial services to
+the sick. She is revered as a saint throughout the district. In her
+social intercourse with her peers, which grows less year by year, her
+son's name never passes her lips; if others mention it she turns the
+conversation. But when the country-people utter his name with
+blessings, and recall his constant kindliness and readiness to
+aid;--when the peasants and day-labourers kiss the hem of her dress,
+with tears, saying, &quot;God give him his reward in Heaven, we shall never
+have another such master!&quot; she lifts her head and her eyes gleam with
+intense, sacred pride. Those who meet her then walking erect and with
+beaming looks on her way back to the castle, think her wonderfully
+recovered, and never dream how utterly shattered her life is. But could
+they see her later, when, exhausted by the temporary exaltation, she
+takes refuge in her chamber and sinks into the arm-chair wherein she
+fell asleep on that horrible night, they would be horror-struck by the
+fearful misery of her expression.</p>
+
+<p class="normal">There she sits for hours, erect, her elbows close pressed, her hands
+folded in her lap. Her whole life is but a protracted, lingering agony;
+with fixed gaze she seems listening for the rustling wings of the
+messenger who shall release her: the Angel of Death.</p>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+<br>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Gloria Victis!', by Ossip Schubin
+
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diff --git a/35672.txt b/35672.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d633bd5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/35672.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,9660 @@
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Gloria Victis!', by Ossip Schubin
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: 'Gloria Victis!'
+       A Romance
+
+Author: Ossip Schubin
+
+Translator: Mary Maxwell
+
+Release Date: March 24, 2011 [EBook #35672]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 'GLORIA VICTIS!' ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by Google Books
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+   1. Page scan source:
+      http://books.google.com/books?id=g9o9AAAAYAAJ
+
+   2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
+
+
+
+
+                             GLORIA VICTIS!
+
+
+
+                               A ROMANCE
+
+
+
+                                   BY
+                             OSSIP SCHUBIN
+                        Author of "Our Own Set."
+
+
+
+                                     "Alas! poor human nature!"
+
+                                                    _Chesterfield_.
+
+
+
+                    From the German by MARY MAXWELL
+
+
+
+                                NEW YORK
+                   WILLIAM S. GOTTSBERGER, PUBLISHER
+                            11 MURRAY STREET
+                                  1886
+
+
+
+
+
+         Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1886
+                       by William S. Gottsberger
+       in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington
+
+
+
+
+
+                                Press of
+                         William E. Gottsberger
+                                New York
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                             GLORIA VICTIS!
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+"There is no help for it, I must do it to-day," the Baroness Melkweyser
+murmured with a sigh breathed into the depths of the toilet-glass,
+before which, she was sitting while her maid dressed her hair. "It is
+now just a week," she went on to herself, after having uttered the
+above words aloud, "quite one week since Capriani entrusted the affair
+to me. I have met him three times, and each time was obliged to tell
+him that there had been no favourable opportunity as yet. He is
+beginning to take my delay ill. Come, then, _courage!_.... _en
+avant!_.... Truyn certainly ought to be glad to marry his daughter as
+soon as possible, and I cannot see why Gabrielle should make any
+objection to becoming the sister-in-law of the Duke of Larothiere. To
+be sure, most Austrians have such antediluvian ideas! _Nons verrons!_ I
+will, as Capriani desires, see how the land lies."
+
+She shrugged her shoulders as though shifting off all responsibility
+and turning to her maid exclaimed: "_mais depechez vous donc_,
+Euphrosine, will you never remember how much I always have to do!"
+Whereupon the impatient lady, snatched from her maid the head-dress
+which she was arranging, and, quite in the style of Napoleon I.,
+crowned herself.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+The scene lies in Paris. The short after-season which, like an echo of
+the carnival, is wont to follow Lent, that holy intermezzo crowded with
+charity-bazaars, musical soirees and other elegant penitential
+observances, is rather duller than usual this year. Easter came too
+late and although _Figaro_ continues its daily record of balls and
+routs, Paris takes very little heed. All genuine enthusiasm for such
+entertainments is lacking. Paris thinks of nothing now save the races,
+the last auction at the Hotel Drouot, the latest change of ministry,
+and the newest thing in stocks.
+
+It is the beginning of May. Two weeks ago, rather later than usual,
+spring made its appearance--like a young king full of eager
+benevolence, and generous promises, with green banner held aloft and
+crowned with sunshine--thus it swept above the earth which sullenly and
+reluctantly opened its weary eyes. "Awake, awake, I bring with me joy!"
+called spring in sweet siren tones sometimes low and wooing and anon
+loud and imperious. And a mysterious whisper thrilled and stirred the
+land, the trees stretched their black branches, the buds burst. Men
+felt a pleasant languor, while their hearts beat louder.
+
+The spring advanced quickly, working its lovely miracles--loading the
+trees with blossoms and filling human hearts with joy--and upon those
+for whom its lavish hand had left nothing else, it bestowed a smile, or
+it granted them a dream.
+
+There are, indeed, some unfortunates for whom its brilliant splendour
+never does aught save reveal the scars of old wounds, which in its
+careless gayety it formerly inflicted; and while others flock abroad to
+admire its beauty, these hide away their misery. But when daylight's
+haughty glare has faded, and spring has modestly shrouded its
+loveliness in a veil of grey, these wretches inhaling its fragrance in
+their seclusion come forth from their concealment, into the soothing
+twilight, among the dewy blossoms, and once more give utterance to the
+yearning that has so long been mute, rejoicing with tears in their old
+anguish, crying: "Oh Spring, oh youth--even thy falsehood was lovely--"
+thus doing it homage by their grief, for spring has no enemies.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Somewhat apart from the aggressive brilliancy of the Avenue
+l'Imperatrice wind a couple of quiet streets like detached fragments of
+the Faubourg St. Germain. Everything here breathes that charming and
+genuine elegance which is almost an instinct, and rules mankind
+despotically. It is not a grimace artificially assumed for show.
+
+One of the prettiest of the small hotels standing between its
+court-yard and garden, in the Avenue ----, formerly it was called the
+Avenue Labedoyere, tomorrow it may perhaps be the Avenue Paul de
+Cassagnac, and the day after the Avenue Montmorency--was occupied by
+Count Truyn with his young wife and his daughter.
+
+This evening the family had assembled in a pleasant drawing-room on the
+rez-de-chaussee, and one after another each expressed delight in the
+repose and relief of such an hour after the social exertions of the
+day. The husband and wife as they sat opposite each other near the
+fireplace--he with his _Figaro_, and she busy with the restoration of
+some antique embroidery--were evidently people who had attained the
+goal of existence and were content. It was plain that their thoughts
+did not range beyond the present.
+
+Not so with Gabrielle. Twice during the last quarter of an hour she has
+changed her seat and three times she has consulted the clock upon the
+chimney-piece.
+
+At last she goes to a mirror and arranges her breast-knot of violets.
+
+"Our Ella is beginning to be pretty," said Truyn opening his eyes after
+a doze behind the _Figaro_.
+
+"Have you just discovered that?" Zinka asked smiling.
+
+"Do you think my gown is becoming, Zini?" Gabrielle asked as gravely as
+if the matter were the Eastern question.
+
+"Very becoming," her step-mother kindly assured her.
+
+"Oho!" said Truyn banteringly, "our Ella is beginning to be vain."
+
+Whereupon Gabrielle blushed deeply and to hide her confusion went to
+the piano and began to strum "Annette and Lubin." She did not play well
+but her hands looked very pretty running over the keys.
+
+"I am surprised that Ossi does not make his appearance," said Truyn,
+laying aside his _Figaro_. Like all Austrians residing in Paris he had
+a special preference for that frivolous journal. "I met him this
+afternoon on the Boulevard, and he asked me expressly whether we were
+to be at home this evening."
+
+Gabrielle looked, as her father observed with surprise, rather
+embarrassed. He had spoken thoughtlessly, and in masculine ignorance of
+the state of affairs. He was just beginning to teaze the girl about her
+behaviour when the footman announced the Baroness Melkweyser.
+
+Her head-dress of red feathers sat somewhat askew upon the
+old-fashioned puffs of hair that framed her sallow face. She wore a
+gown of flowered brocade, the surpassing ugliness of which showed it to
+have been purchased at a bargain at some great bazaar as a "_fin de
+saison_." She squinted slightly, winked constantly, was entirely out of
+breath, and sank exhausted into an arm-chair, before uttering a word of
+greeting.
+
+"Ah, if you only knew all I have done this blessed day!" she exclaimed.
+
+The Truyn trio looked at her in smiling silence.
+
+"Confessed and received the sacrament very early," the baroness began
+the list of her achievements, "always on the second of every month--I
+never can manage it on the first--then at the Pierson sale I bought six
+things marked with Louis Philippe's cipher, then I went to see Ada de
+Thienne's trousseau,--then to a breakfast at the new minister's--too
+comical--his wife made herself perfectly ridiculous, in a bare neck at
+two o'clock in the daytime!"
+
+"That is the inevitable consequence of a change of ministers," Zinka
+remarked. Her manner of speech, quiet, and rather inclined to irony,
+was that of those who, with rigid self-control have for years endured
+with dignity some great grief.
+
+The baroness, meanwhile, rattled on, unheeding. "Then I went my
+round of charities, then looked for a wedding-present for my niece
+Stefanie...."
+
+"Heavens, Zoe!" Truyn groaned.
+
+"Yes, I lead a most fatiguing existence," the baroness wailed. "Just as
+I sat down to supper,--I missed my dinner--it occurred to me that it
+really would be better not to let to-day pass without making you a very
+important communication--that is--hm--discussing--a most important
+matter with you--and--here I am. Pray, Zinka, let me have a sandwich,
+for I am dying of hunger."
+
+"Ring the bell, Erich," Zinka said with a smile.
+
+"And now to business," said the baroness, "_je tiens une occasion_--it
+really is the most advantageous opportunity!"
+
+"You shall have your sandwich, Zoe," said Truyn, quietly stretching out
+his hand to the bell handle, "but pray spare me your advantageous
+opportunities. If I had availed myself of all your boasted
+'opportunities,' I should now be the proud possessor of fourteen
+rattle-trap Buehl pianos and at least twenty-five tumble-down country
+houses. As it is I have bought for love of you three holy-water pots of
+Mme. Maintenon's, an inkstand of the Pompadour's, and I can't tell how
+many nightcaps of Louis XVI., warranted genuine."
+
+"And an excellent bargain you had of them," the baroness declared.
+"Louis Sixteenth's nightcaps have latterly been going up in price. But
+this time there is no question of purchase," she went on to say, "and
+that is the best of it."
+
+"That certainly is very fine," muttered Truyn.
+
+"The question is,--I suppose I ought to ask Gabrielle to leave the
+room, that used to be the way, girls never were allowed to be present
+while their parents disposed of their future, but I .... _j'aime a
+attaquer les choses franchement_. The question is, in fact, with regard
+to--Gabrielle's marriage."
+
+Zinka with a smile took the hand of the young girl standing beside her
+in her own, and tenderly laid it against her cheek.
+
+"Gabrielle's beauty produced a sensation at the last ball at the
+Spanish embassy's," the baroness continued.
+
+"I must entreat you not to make such a fatal assault upon my daughter's
+modesty," exclaimed Zinka.
+
+"Bah!" the baroness shrugged her shoulders, "stop up your ears,
+Gabrielle. Produced a sensation is the correct phrase. It is
+remarkable--the _succes_ that the Austrian women always have in Paris.
+I have a suitor for Gabrielle--the most brilliant _parti_ in Paris."
+
+"Stop, stop, Zoe, I beg you," said Truyn, provoked, "you make me
+nervous! You always forget how your French way of arranging marriages
+goes against the grain with us and our old-fashioned Austrian ideas.
+You say I have a rich husband for your daughter in just the same tone
+in which you say I have a purchaser for your house! And I seriously
+entreat you to consider that a jewel like my dear comrade yonder, may
+be bestowed, upon one deemed worthy of such a possession, but can never
+be sold."
+
+"Ah, here is my sandwich!" exclaimed the baroness, paying no attention
+to his words in her satisfaction over the tea-tray. Whilst Gabrielle
+was occupied with making tea the visitor applied herself to the
+refreshments, whispering meanwhile confidentially and mysteriously to
+Truyn. "I thought that your new domestic relations might make you
+desirous to have Gabrielle mar ...."
+
+An angry flash in Truyn's blue eyes, usually so kindly, warned her that
+she was on the wrong track; she lost countenance and consequently
+proceeded rather too precipitately in her investigations as to 'how the
+land lay.'
+
+"At least my proposition is worth being taken into serious
+consideration," she said hastily. "Count Capriani commissioned me to
+ask you whether there was any prospect of his obtaining Gabrielle's
+hand for his only--remember, his only son."
+
+"Count Capriani, I do not know who he is," Truyn said coldly.
+
+"Well then, Conte Capriani," Zoe explained impatiently.
+
+"Ah, indeed, Conte Capriani," Truyn said significantly,--"the railroad
+Capriani!"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"And he dares to ask my daughter's hand for his son?"
+
+Perfect silence reigned for a moment. Gabrielle's little nose expressed
+intense disdain.
+
+"Zoe, you are insane," Truyn said at last, very contemptuously. "This
+is not, I believe, the first of April."
+
+"I cannot understand your irritation," the baroness rejoined, with the
+bravado that is the result of great embarrassment. "You are always
+proclaiming yourself a Liberal with no prejudices!"
+
+Truyn coloured slightly. He had grown more decided than he had been a
+few years before, and his shirt collars were perhaps a little higher
+and stiffer. His whole bearing expressed the dignified content that
+distinguishes the man of conservative views of life. He gently twitched
+his high collar as he began: "I am a Liberal--at least I fancy that I
+am. If my daughter had set her heart upon marrying a man her inferior
+as regards birth and family, I should certainly consent to her doing
+so, provided the man were one whose character and attainments atoned
+for his low origin."
+
+Zinka smiled sceptically with a scarcely perceptible shrug. Truyn's
+colour deepened. "I do not deny," he admitted, "that it would be very
+hard for me, but all the same I should consent and should do all that I
+could to assist such a son-in-law to attain a position worthy of my
+daughter--that is suitable to her mode of life."
+
+"Do not be afraid, papa. I have not the slightest desire to fall in
+love with a deputy on the extreme Left," Gabrielle observed.
+
+"In young Capriani's case there would be no need for you to trouble
+yourself about your son-in-law's position," said the baroness loftily.
+"_Sa position est toute faite_. All Paris was at the ball the night
+before last in the Capriani Hotel--all the _rois en exil_ appeared
+there, and even some Siberian magnates, and all--that is very many--of
+the Austrians at present in Paris."
+
+"You know just as well as I do why all these magnates appeared at
+Capriani's," Truyn rejoined angrily. "But indeed I care nothing for
+this speculator's position--the man himself is odious--a common parvenu
+with a boor of a son."
+
+"Have it your own way," said the baroness. "Perhaps you know that a
+daughter of Capriani's is married to the Duke of Larothiere?"
+
+"Yes, I know it."
+
+"And that the Conte's property is estimated at a hundred million?"
+
+"It may be a hundred billion for all I care."
+
+"He is incontestably one of the most influential financiers in Europe."
+
+"Unfortunately, and one of the most corrupt and corrupting," Truyn
+rejoined with emphasis.
+
+"You have not, however, asked Gabrielle's opinion," persisted the
+baroness.
+
+Gabrielle tossed her head, but her answer was unuttered, for just at
+this moment the servant flung open the door, and the interesting
+conversation was interrupted by the announcement of fresh visitors.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Two young men entered--two Counts Lodrin. They bore the same name; they
+were the sons of brothers--and as unlike each other as possible.
+
+With regard to Oswald--the "Ossi" of whom Truyn made mention a while
+before.--Gabrielle was convinced that no sculptured classic god, none
+of Raphael's cherubim could compare with him in beauty and distinction.
+She was perhaps alone in this view, although it must be confessed that
+few mortal men surpassed him in these two respects. About six and
+twenty, tall, slender--very dark--a gay, good-humoured smile on his
+handsome, aristocratic face--with an eager, ardent manner--and with
+what might be called the gypsy-like distinction that characterizes an
+entire class of the Austrian aristocracy he was the embodiment of
+chivalric youth. With all the attractiveness of his face, his eyes
+struck you at once--it would be hard to say what was wrong about them,
+whether they were too large, or too dark.
+
+They certainly were very beautiful, but they produced the impression of
+not suiting the face--of having been placed there by accident. But the
+incongruous impression made by those large, dark eyes upon almost every
+one who saw the young man for the first time was extremely fleeting,
+and passed away as soon as Oswald began to talk--as soon as his look
+became animated.
+
+His cousin Georges was at least a dozen years his elder, and nearly a
+head shorter than he. Many persons declared that he looked like a
+jockey; they were wrong. He looked like what he was, a prodigal son,
+very well-born. Spare in figure, his face smoothly shaven, except for a
+long sandy moustache, his hair quite gray, and brushed up from the
+temples after a vanished fashion, his features keen and mobile, his
+eyes round as a bird's, his carriage rather stooping and with motions
+characterized by a certain negligence, he produced the impression of a
+man who had seen a great deal of the world, and who now took a
+philosophic view of his life and of his position.
+
+Oswald is the heir, Georges is the next to inherit.
+
+Scarcely were the usual formal greetings over when Oswald made an
+attempt to join his pretty cousin Gabrielle, with the laudable purpose
+of helping her to pour out tea. His design was cruelly frustrated,
+however, by Count Truyn, who instantly engaged him in a brisk
+discussion of the latest anti-Catholic measures on the part of the
+Republic. Oswald sat beside his uncle restlessly drumming on the brim
+of his opera-hat, the image of politely-concealed youthful impatience,
+now and then adding an "abominable!" or a "disgusting," to the
+indignant expressions of the elder man, and all the while glancing
+towards Gabrielle. Certain personal matters interested him far more
+just now than the deplorable excesses of the French government. He had
+not read the article in the _Temps_ to which his uncle alluded, he did
+not take the French Republic at all in earnest, he considered it in
+fact no Republic at all, but only a monarchy gone mad; French politics
+interested him from an ethnographical point of view only, all which he
+calmly confessed to his uncle, by whom he was scolded as "unpardonably
+indifferent," and "culpably blind." The elder man's conservative
+philippics grew more eager, and the younger one's courteous admissions
+more vague, until at last Zinka succeeded in releasing the latter by
+asking Gabrielle to sing something. Gabrielle, of course, declared that
+she was hoarse, but Oswald who was, by the way, about as much
+interested in her singing from a musical point of view as in the
+trumpet-solos of the emperor of Russia, smiled away her objections and
+rising, with a sigh of relief, went to open the grand piano.
+
+No one seemed to have any idea of according a strict silence to the
+young girl's music, and whilst Gabrielle warbled in a sweet, but rather
+thin voice, some majestic air of Handel's, and Oswald leaning against
+the cover of the instrument looked down at her with ardent intentness,
+Georges, his hands upon his knees, his body inclined towards the
+Baroness Melkweyser who, still busied with her refreshments, was
+disposing of sandwich after sandwich, said: "You are wearing yourself
+out in the service of mankind. Have you allowed yourself one
+half-hour's repose to-day?--No, not one--as any one may see who looks
+at you. _A propos_, who was the Japanese woman dressed in yellow at whose
+side I saw you to-day sitting in a fainting condition in a landau--in
+front of Gouache's was it?--on the Boulevard de la Madeleine?"
+
+"Adeline Capriani."
+
+"_Ah tiens!_ That was why I seemed to have seen her before."
+
+"A very queer figure was she not?"
+
+"She is not ugly," said Georges. "It is a pity that she dresses so
+ridiculously."
+
+"Her dress costs her a fortune every year--the first artists in Paris
+design her gowns," Madame Zoe declared.
+
+"Indeed----? Now I understand why she always looks as if she had been
+stolen from a bric-a-brac shop," said Georges. "Explain to me, however,
+why this wealthy young lady is still unmarried. Perhaps the Conte
+thinks another son-in-law too expensive an article ... Did you know
+that Larothiere lost 300,000 francs again yesterday at baccarat at the
+Jockey Club?"
+
+"That is of no consequence," Zoe said loftily. "Gaston loves his
+wife--it is all that Capriani requires of his sons-in-law."
+
+"_Sapperment!_" Georges exclaimed, "that's the right kind of a
+father-in-law; what if you should negotiate a marriage, Baroness,
+between me and Mademoiselle Capriani?"
+
+"Do not indulge in such sorry jests," Truyn interposed disapprovingly.
+
+"I am in solemn earnest; the financial ground beneath my feet is very
+shaky at present, and having one's debts paid by such a good fellow as
+Ossi palls upon one in time. I am undecided whether to turn Hospitaller
+or to marry an heiress."
+
+"Ah, if Oswald heard you!" Zinka said with her quiet smile.
+
+"Ossi at this moment, if I am not greatly mistaken, is listening to the
+songs of angels in Heaven, and takes precious little heed of us
+ordinary mortals," replied Georges, glancing with a certain dreaminess
+in his eyes towards the youthful pair who had left the piano and were
+standing in the deep recess of an open balconied window.
+
+"Happy youth," murmured Georges.
+
+Yes, happy youth! They were standing there, he very pale, she blushing
+slightly, mute, confused, the sparkling eyes of each seeking, avoiding
+the other's. He has led her to the recess to show her the moon, to lay
+his heart at her feet, but he has forgotten the moon, and he has not
+yet dared to pour out his heart to her.
+
+The fragrant breath of the spring night was wafted towards them,
+fanning their youthful faces caressingly.
+
+All nature was thrilling beneath the first gentle May shower. The large
+white panicles of the elder in the little garden in front of the house
+gleamed brightly through the gray twilight. The small fountain murmured
+monotonously, its slender jet of water sparkling in the light from the
+drawing-room windows. They were dancing in the house opposite; like
+colourless phantoms the different couples glided across the lowered
+shades of the windows. The "Ecstasy" waltz played by a piano and a
+violin mingled its frivolous sobs and laughter with the modest song of
+the fountain and the whispers of the elder-bushes. All else was quiet
+in the Avenue-Labedoyere, but from the distance the restless roar of
+the huge city invaded the silence of night--mysterious, confused, as
+the demoniac restlessness of Hell may sometimes invade the divine peace
+of Heaven.
+
+"Gabrielle!" Oswald began at last with hesitation and very gently, "I
+have come very often of late to the Avenue-Labedoyere. Can you guess
+why?"
+
+"Why?" The blush on Gabrielle's cheek deepens. "Why?--since you were in
+Paris for three weeks without coming near your relatives you ought to
+make up for lost time," she murmured.
+
+"True, Gabrielle--but--do you really not know for whose sake I have
+come so often, so very often?"
+
+She was silent.
+
+His breath came more quickly, the colour rose to his cheek. Surely he
+must have divined Gabrielle's innocent secret from the young girl's
+tell-tale shyness, but yet at this decisive moment the words died in
+his throat as they must for every genuine, honest lover who would fain
+ask the momentous question of her whom he loves.
+
+"Gabrielle," he murmured hastily and somewhat indistinctly, "will you
+take the full heart I offer you--can you accept it, or...." he
+hesitated and looked inquiringly into her lovely face. "Ella, all my
+happiness lies in your hands!"
+
+Her heart beat loudly, the lace ruffles on her bosom trembled,
+as she slowly lifted her eyes to his.--How handsome he was, how
+well the tender humility in his face became him! His happiness
+lies in her hands! Her eyes filled with tears. "I do not
+know ... I ... Oswald ... Ossi!" she murmured disconnectedly, and then she
+placed her slender hand in the strong one held out to her.
+
+Truyn with his back to the window, noticed nothing, but the baroness
+who had been observing this romantic intermezzo through her eyeglass
+with cold-blooded curiosity, said drily to herself: "_J'en suis pour
+mes frais_;" then turning for the last time to Truyn, she said, "I have
+communicated to you Capriani's proposal."
+
+"And you are at liberty to tell him how I received it," Truyn replied
+stiffly.
+
+"_J'arrangerai un peu_," the baroness said as she rose, "do not disturb
+the young people, I will slip out on tiptoe. Adieu." And with a
+courteous glance around, she hurried away.
+
+"Well, what do you think?" exclaimed Truyn, as he returned to the
+drawing-room, after escorting her to the hall. "What do you think,
+Georges?" and sitting down beside the young man he tapped him on the
+knee. "Capriani sends that goose Zoe in all seriousness to ask for my
+daughter's hand for his son. What do you say to that?"
+
+"Audacious enough," said Georges shrugging his shoulders, "but what
+would you have--'tis a sign of the times!"
+
+This dry way of judging of the matter did not please Truyn at all.
+"Ossi!" he called.
+
+"What, uncle?" The young people advanced together into the room.
+
+"I have an interesting piece of news for you. A secret agent of the
+_Maison Foy_ has made a proposal to-day for Ella's hand for Capriani,
+jr! What do you say to that?"
+
+"Ella's hand for the son of that railway Capriani!" exclaimed Oswald
+angrily. "Impossible! The secret agent deserves .... and he made an
+expressive motion with his hand. His indignation became him extremely
+well, and Truyn's glance rested with evident admiration upon the young
+fellow's athletic figure as he stood with head slightly thrown back,
+and eyes flashing scornfully.
+
+"Unfortunately it was a lady--Zoe Melkweyser," the elder man explained.
+
+"Then she deserves at least six months of Charenton," said Oswald,
+"'tis incredible!" and he clinched his hand. "Your daughter, uncle,
+and the son of the Conte--I suppose he is a Conte--or a Marchese
+perhaps--Capriani! You know that little orang-outang, Georges?"
+
+"Of course, one meets him everywhere. He addressed me by my first name
+yesterday," Georges replied calmly. "Ah, my dear friends, you entirely
+misconceive this extraordinary proposal. For my part, I see in it no
+personal insult to the Countess Gabrielle, but simply a symptom of an
+approaching social earthquake. The triumph of the tradesman is manifest
+everywhere. Zola in his most prominent work has celebrated the
+apotheosis of the bag-man and the shop-girl; Chapu has designed the
+facade of the latest millinery establishment; Paris will yet see the
+Bourse hold its sessions in _La Madeleine_, and the _Bon Marche_ will
+set up a branch of its trade in _Notre Dame_."
+
+"Likely enough," said Truyn with a troubled sigh, "I am only surprised
+that Capriani has not tried to be President of the French Republic."
+
+"He has not thought the position at present a favourable one for his
+speculations," said Georges, "but what is not, may be."
+
+"Ah, I am proud of my Austria," said Truyn, suddenly becoming stiff and
+wooden of aspect. "Such adventurers have at least no position there."
+
+"Do not be too proud of your Austria," rejoined Georges, "I heard
+something at the embassy to-day that will hardly please you. _Id est_,
+Capriani has bought Schneeburg and will be your nearest neighbour in
+Bohemia."
+
+Truyn started to his feet. "Capriani .... Schneeburg .... impossible! How
+could Malzin bring himself to such a sacrifice!"
+
+"It must have gone hard with the poor fellow, God rest his soul! The
+night after the contract had been signed he died of apoplexy."
+
+"Good Heavens!" murmured Truyn, pacing restlessly to and fro. "Good
+Heavens!"
+
+"And there is another interesting piece of news," Georges went on.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Fritz--do you remember him?"
+
+"Certainly. The only Malzin now left, a very amiable lad who
+unfortunately made an impossible marriage."
+
+"Yes, he married an actress, and just at the time when every one else
+was tired of ...."
+
+"Georges!" exclaimed Oswald frowning and glancing towards Gabrielle. He
+was evidently of the opinion that such things should not be mentioned
+in the presence of young girls.
+
+"Hm--hm," muttered Georges, "and he has accepted the post of Capriani's
+private secretary."
+
+"Frightful!" exclaimed Oswald.
+
+"He must have become morally corrupt to some degree, before he could
+make up his mind to submit to such a humiliation," interposed Truyn
+indignantly.
+
+"Poor devil!" said Oswald.
+
+"What would you have?" the philosophic Georges remarked and hummed
+ironically the air of '_Garde la reine_.' "_Ce n'est pas toujours les
+memes qui ont l'assiette au beurre_. I tell you it is all up with us."
+
+All preserved a melancholy silence for a while, then Truyn favoured the
+party with a few grand political aphorisms, and Oswald at last said to
+himself perfectly calmly, and as if impromptu, "Gabrielle and
+Capriani's son!"
+
+The melancholy mood vanished and they talked and laughed so that there
+was a sound as of merry bells through the silence of the night.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III.
+
+
+Zoe Melkweyser was an Austrian and a distant relative of Truyn's. Very
+well-born, but in very narrow pecuniary circumstances, she had grown up
+on her widowed father's heavily-mortgaged estate, condemned through
+want of means to a continued residence there, restless as was the
+temperament with which nature had endowed her. As a school-girl she had
+no greater pleasure than imaginary journeys from place to place upon
+the map, and one day she confided to her governess, Mrs. Sidney, under
+the seal of secrecy, that she would consent to marry any man, even were
+he a negro, who would promise to indulge her restlessness and allow her
+to travel to her heart's content.
+
+It was no negro, however, but a banker from Brussels, who finally
+fulfilled her requirements. She met him at a watering-place, whither
+she had gone under the chaperonage of a wealthy and compassionate
+relative. In spite of her thirst for travel she could hardly have made
+up her mind to marry an Austrian banker, but a Belgian Cr[oe]sus was
+quite a different affair in her opinion.
+
+All the objections and remonstrances of her aristocratic connections in
+Austria upon her return thither betrothed, she cut short with, "What
+would you have? Of course I never should have met him here, but he was
+received at court in Brussels."
+
+And in fact Baron Alfred Melkweyser was not only received at court in
+Brussels, but what was still more extraordinary, by the Princess L----,
+being admitted to the most exclusive Belgian circles, 'among the people
+whom everyone knows.'
+
+It would have been difficult to find any fault with him except for his
+brand-new patent of nobility, and Zoe never had any cause to repent her
+marriage. His manners were perfectly correct, he rode well, had a
+laudable passion for antiquities, ordered his clothes at Poole's,
+always used _vous_ in talking with his wife, paid all her bills without
+even a wry face, patiently travelled with her all over the world, and
+at her desire removed with her to Paris.
+
+After ten years of childless marriage he died suddenly, of his first
+and unfortunately unsuccessful attempt to drive four-in-hand. As this,
+his first ambitious folly, was also his last, society forbore to
+ridicule it, and even after his death he enjoyed the reputation of an
+'_homme parfaitement bien_.'
+
+His widow bewailed his loss sincerely, and purchased all her mourning
+of _Cypres_ at reduced prices. Bargains had always been a passion with
+her, and scarcely had her year of mourning passed, before, thanks to
+her expensive taste for cheap, useless articles, she had disposed of
+half the source of her income. Among other things she purchased at low
+prices various stocks which turned out badly. She owed her familiarity
+with financial affairs entirely to her speculative vein, and not at
+all, as her aristocratic relatives and country-folk erroneously
+imagined, to her deceased husband, who had, in fact, held himself
+persistently aloof from former financial acquaintances.
+
+It was not acquisitiveness that spurred Zoe on to her various
+undertakings, but the restlessness of her temperament. She delighted in
+everything novel and fatiguing, whether it were a pilgrimage to
+_Lourdes_, a bargain day at the _Bon Marche_, or a first representation
+at the _Francais_, to which, by persistent wire-pulling and constant
+appeals to one and another person of influence, she was able to obtain
+tickets of admission not only for herself but for all her most intimate
+friends. She had one means, however, far more entertaining than all
+others, of procuring the excitement needed by her temperament, and this
+was the introduction to 'the world,' of American or European financial
+magnates. She extorted for them invitations to the most distinguished
+routs, she designed the balls which these wealthy people were to give
+to dazzle Paris withal, and she expended an incredible amount of
+cunning and energy in inducing the aristocratic world to appear at
+these entertainments. Her tactics were those of genius; instead of
+contenting herself after the fashion of less skilful mortals with
+inviting the poorer and more modest members of Paris society, she bent
+all her efforts to securing the presence of some legitimist duchess at
+the ball, if only for an hour. She succeeded in doing this in most
+cases by placing at the duchess' disposal a large sum of money for
+charitable purposes. When she had gained over two or three of these
+fixed stars, the planets of Parisian society began to appear at these
+balls.
+
+Planets, in their social relations, are notably much more fastidious
+than fixed stars, as is but natural; they are forced to reflect a light
+not their own.
+
+The entire scheme was usually most successful; the balls were beautiful
+and everything went excellently well. Sometimes, indeed, not one of the
+assembled guests had the civility to invite the mistress of the mansion
+to dance, and many of those present affected to mistake the host for a
+footman, but none the less was everyone content and pleased when the
+ball was over. Zoe Melkweyser was glad that she had enjoyed so
+brilliant an opportunity of getting out of breath; the givers of the
+ball were pleased to read the long list of their distinguished guests
+in _Figaro_; and _le monde_ rejoiced in having something to laugh at,
+and spent three days in ridiculing the extravagance of the Cotillon
+favours.
+
+The latest and most brilliant of Zoe's proteges was Conte Capriani.
+
+Who was he? What was he? 'A poisonous fungus that the sultry
+storm-laden atmosphere had bred upon heaven only knows what muck-heap.'
+
+A clever statesman had made use of this phrase not long before to
+define the innate characteristics of this Cr[oe]sus. The phrase had
+been laughingly caught up and repeated, and no one had troubled
+themselves further about Capriani's antecedents. In a smaller city they
+would soon have been investigated, but Paris never busies itself long
+with the solution of such commonplace mysteries; on the contrary it
+takes care not to pry into the past of an adventurer whom it finds of
+very great use. Thus the antecedents of this financial Jove remained,
+like those of most deities, shrouded in myth.
+
+Among the many legends that had at first been circulated concerning
+him, was one that he had formerly been a lady's physician and that he
+had been most successful with his aristocratic patients.
+
+Whether this were or were not true, certain it was that his air and
+manner suggested that adulatory, fawning servility which characterizes
+those physicians whose professional efforts are, for lack of other
+occupation, chiefly directed to soothing the nerves of hysteric
+women. His exterior was that of a man who has once been handsome,
+_cidevant-beau_, spoiled only by the piercing glance of his large black
+eyes, and the cynical droop of his loose under-lip. He carried his head
+well forward, as if listening, and around his mouth and eyes there were
+strange lines and wrinkles in the yellow skin which had of late grown
+flabby,--lines suggesting that some of the figures with which he played
+the despot had flown angrily into his face and embedded themselves
+there.
+
+That he had begun life with nothing he himself was wont to declare,
+whenever he gave way to the fit of rage that seized him upon any
+offence offered to his vanity; but how he had gained his immense
+fortune he never told. He made profit out of every thing that afforded
+gain, most of all out of the credulity of indolent inexperienced
+avarice. His success as a 'bear' was famous, and notorious; it
+sometimes seemed as if ill-luck existed only for his advantage, and it
+was well known that he had emerged from great financial crises which
+ruined thousands, not only unharmed, but with an increase of wealth.
+
+There were various whispers afloat concerning his speculations, but no
+one had been able to attach any direct blame to him. Once only, in
+connection with his construction of a Spanish railway he had laid
+himself open to a couple of disgraceful charges. The times were
+unpropitious; the public, exasperated by various huge swindles,
+demanded a victim; but whilst several lesser individuals, were brought
+to trial and subjected to a public investigation, all legal proceedings
+against Capriani were suddenly quashed. Why?.... No one knew or at
+least no one told aloud what was known.
+
+He was a '_personnage tare_,' but the stain upon his name was of so
+peculiar a nature that prudence required of many well-known and eminent
+men that they should not see it. Poor devils who stood outside the
+demoniac spell of his financial magic art called him an unprincipled
+swindler: people who had penetrated within the conjuror's circle called
+him a financial genius, flattered him almost servilely in their longing
+to share in his colossal enterprises, and if they did so procured for
+him in return a slight social recognition. And it was curious to
+observe how much at heart the magnate had this same social recognition,
+how he sued for the favour of every lofty dignitary, of every capital
+letter in the social alphabet. He persisted unweariedly in hurling his
+golden bomb-shells into the stronghold of Parisian society, and at last
+the fortress capitulated. He was received, as an enemy to be sure, with
+closed shutters and in silence, but he was received everywhere, at all
+the embassies, throughout the entire official representative world, and
+even in some drawing-rooms of the Faubourg. Everywhere he met those
+who, while he smiled at them in the most friendly way, looked over his
+shoulder without seeing him, but this he endured serenely. The hour for
+revenge will come, he said to himself, and almost always it did come!
+
+Thanks to an ostentatious benevolence backed by millions, he had of
+late contrived to improve perceptibly his social standing; at his last
+ball, several crowned heads had been present. Zoe was right; he was
+undoubtedly one of the most influential financiers in Europe; she might
+almost have described him as one of the most influential men.
+
+In Paris he was one of the celebrities that are shown to strangers.
+When he walked past, or rather drove past, for he was physically
+indolent and avoided all bodily exertion, he was pointed out as
+Monsieur Grevy or Mdlle. Bernhardt is pointed out. He occupied a vast
+hotel that he had built after the model of the castle of Chenonceau,
+but two stories higher, in the neighbourhood of the Park Monceau; in a
+quarter of an hour after leaving the Avenue Labedoyere the Baroness
+Zoe's _fiacre_ drew up before this mimicry of vanished feudalism
+erected by a modern Cr[oe]sus.
+
+"Gabrielle's betrothal will make everything smooth," she said to
+herself. "I am glad to be well rid of the affair!"
+
+A Maitre d'Hotel, who, it was said, had formerly been chamberlain to
+the Duc de Morny, and one of whose duties it was to instruct his
+present master in the laws of aristocratic etiquette, conducted the
+baroness with dignified solemnity to the 'small drawing-room' where the
+Contessa Capriani was wont to receive on quiet evenings.
+
+The 'small drawing-room' was a very large, and very
+brilliantly-furnished apartment, which, in spite of landscapes by
+Corot, in spite of gold-woven Japanese hangings, old inlaid cabinets
+and a thousand articles of value, produced a dreary in-harmonious
+impression. It was evident that nothing here was devised for the
+pleasure and comfort of the inmates of the house, but that everything
+was arranged with a view of impressing visitors. It almost seemed as if
+millions run mad had tossed all these splendours together aimlessly,
+insanely shouting, "something more costly, something more costly
+still!"
+
+Here sat the Contessa busied with some fancy work. She appeared
+well-bred, but shy, and embarrassed by her wealth, as she advanced a
+few steps to welcome the baroness, made a few conventional remarks, and
+then begged with a sigh to be excused for going on with her work, which
+work consisted in cutting all sorts of flowers and birds out of a piece
+of cretonne in order to sew them on a piece of satin. She devoted
+several hours a day to this occupation, and since her own rooms, as
+well as those of her acquaintances, were far too splendidly furnished
+to have any place in them for this sort of work, the result of her
+diligence was bestowed every year upon some charity-bazaar.
+
+Zoe Melkweyser thought the Contessa unusually depressed. Excited voices
+were heard in the next room, and every time that there was a
+particularly loud explosion the mistress of the mansion winced.
+
+"Can the 300,000 francs which the Duke of Larothiere lost last night be
+a bitter pill for even King Midas?" Zoe asked herself.
+
+This supposition proved, however to be erroneous. Madame Capriani moved
+her chair rather nearer to Zoe, and whispered, "My husband is terribly
+agitated,--my poor son--that article in _Figaro_,--you saw it of
+course ...."
+
+"I? I have not seen _Figaro_ to-day," Zoe reassured her. It was true,
+she had not seen _Figaro_ but she had heard of the article to which the
+countess alluded; the excitement in the _casa_ Capriani was quite
+intelligible to her now. No, Capriani never even pulled a wry face at
+the sums lost at play by his son-in-law; he enjoyed smiling away such
+losses; everything was allowable in the duke. For the comparatively
+petty extravagances of his own son he had much less forbearance, in
+fact he showed very little tenderness for this scion of his, whose name
+was Arthur, and who was far from satisfactory to his father. The
+Croesus could forgive his son's noble scorn of everything relating to
+business, for positively refusing to have a desk in his father's
+counting-room and for devoting his entire existence to sport,--but it
+drove him frantic to have Arthur held up to ridicule by the sporting
+world.
+
+Hitherto Arthur's grandest achievements in the sporting world had
+culminated in a couple of broken collar-bones and a quantity of lost
+wagers,--today their number had been increased by a trifling _fiasco_.
+
+A very trifling _fiasco_, but of a highly delicate nature. Two
+Austrians, an attache and one of his friends at present in Paris, both
+belonging to extremely aristocratic families, had lately out of wild
+caprice, and amid much laughter, undertaken to run a foot-race
+backwards.
+
+Several French journals had taken immediate occasion to write articles
+on this eccentric wager, describing backward races as a traditional and
+very favourite sport among the youthful aristocrats of Austria. These
+journalistic rhapsodies had incited Arthur Capriani to arrange a
+similar race with brilliant accessories, music, torchlight, and a large
+assemblage of young dandies, and ladies of every description. He lost
+the race, got a severe contusion on his head, and the next day appeared
+the article in _Figaro_ which so exasperated the Conte.
+
+"If you were only capable of something in the world beside making
+yourself ridiculous!" Zoe distinctly heard the father's excited voice
+say, "but you can do nothing else, nothing! And to think of my toiling
+for you,--making money for you!"
+
+"_Mon Dieu!_ you make money because you delight in nothing else,"
+retorted young Capriani.
+
+"And for you--for _you_, I am contemplating one of the most brilliant
+matches in Austria," the Conte fairly shouted, "'tis ridiculous!"
+
+"I fancy that Count Truyn agrees with you there," was Arthur's
+repartee.
+
+"Ah, you would, would you?--you dare to sneer at your father?" Capriani
+burst forth, after the illogical fashion of angry men, "the father to
+whom you owe everything! I should like to see you begin life as I did,
+bare-footed, with only one gulden in your pocket!"
+
+"What's the use of these recriminations?" drawled the son, "your
+antecedents mortify me enough without them, and ...."
+
+There was a incoherent cry, a savage word ....!
+
+The Contessa, very pale, put down her scissors; she trembled violently.
+
+"I think it would be better to separate them," Zoe remarked very
+calmly.
+
+"I will try to," gasped Madame Capriani, and opening the door into the
+next room, she called, "_Mon-ami_, the Baroness Melkweyser is here--I
+believe she brings you some news ...."
+
+"_Il s'agit de votre fameuse affaire, mon cher comte_," Zoe called
+coaxingly.
+
+Her words produced a magical effect; both men made their appearance,
+the father with a honeyed smile, the son, a short thick-set fellow with
+handsome features but a rude ill-tempered air, frowning and sullen.
+
+"_Bon soir baronne_."
+
+"_Bon soir_."
+
+"_Eh bien?_" and settling himself in an arm-chair, his legs
+outstretched, and toying with his double eyeglass in the triumphant
+attitude with which he was wont to contemplate the favourable
+development of some particularly clever business transaction, Capriani
+began, "So you have at last found a favourable opportunity."
+
+"No,--no, not at all!" said Zoe, "but I thought best not to leave you
+in uncertainty any longer, and so I came to you this evening."
+
+"You know I gave you no authority to make a direct proposal," said the
+Conte.
+
+"How can you suppose me capable of such want of tact!" Zoe rejoined
+hypocritically, "unfortunately I have not been able even to find out
+how the land lies. If you had commissioned me a little sooner--just a
+little sooner,--but there is nothing to be done now, for Gabrielle
+Truyn is already betrothed!"
+
+"_Nom d'un chien!_" muttered Arthur; he had been no less impressed by
+Gabrielle's beauty than by her lofty descent--"_nom d'un chien!_"
+
+"Indeed, already betrothed," his father said coldly, slowly putting his
+eyeglass upon his nose and scanning the baroness mistrustfully as he
+asked, "betrothed to whom?"
+
+"To her cousin, Oswald Lodrin."
+
+"To Oswald Lodrin," he repeated quickly. "You cannot, indeed, enter the
+lists against him, my poor Arthur!"
+
+"Perhaps not as far as arrogance is concerned," growled the Vicomte,
+"he is the haughtiest human being I ever came across."
+
+"That may be, but--" the Conte smiled oddly, "he is also one of the
+handsomest and most distinguished of Austrians, and he is renowned as
+such."
+
+Whilst Arthur continued to mutter unintelligibly, but in evident
+ill-humor, Capriani senior left his arm-chair and taking a low seat
+beside Zoe, said, "To-morrow the X---- railway stock is to be issued.
+The shares will be in great demand; shall I save you a couple of
+hundred?"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+The fragrance of the elder blossoms floated sweet and strong upon the
+air in the dim warm stillness of the Avenue Labedoyere. The poetry that
+breathes in the odour of flowers no words can reproduce, music alone
+can sometimes translate it; it ascended from the full white panicles in
+the little garden before the Hotel Truyn and breathed through the open
+window into Gabrielle's chamber like an exultant yearning, like a song
+filled with love's delicious pain.
+
+Zinka sat on the edge of the little white bed where the young girl was
+lying, her golden hair rippling about her brow and temples, while upon
+her pale face lay the melancholy of illimitable joy; her eyes were
+moist.
+
+"And you are not surprised, Zini ... not at all?" she whispered.
+
+"No, my child," replied Zinka tenderly, "not in the least; I knew you
+were destined for each other from the first moment that I saw you
+together."
+
+"Ah," Gabrielle sighed, "I cannot comprehend it yet. It all seems to me
+like a delicious dream from which I must waken, but even if I must,
+even if the dear God takes from me all that He has given me, I shall
+thank Him on my knees as long as I live for this one lovely dream."
+
+"Calm yourself, my darling," Zinka whispered, lovingly stroking the
+young girl's cheeks, "how your cheeks burn!" And she poured a few drops
+of essence of orange flowers into a glass of water, "drink this, you
+little enthusiast."
+
+"It will do no good, dear little mother," said Gabrielle, obediently
+lifting the composing draught to her burning lips. "Ah, you cannot
+imagine how I feel, it seems as if--as if my heart would break with
+happiness!"
+
+Zinka kissed her, made the sign of the cross upon her forehead, drew
+the coverlet over her shoulders, once more admonished her to be calm,
+and left her.
+
+Thunder rumbled without; Zinka started and as a second clap resounded
+she turned back. "Are you afraid of the storm, Ella, shall I stay with
+you?" she asked gently.
+
+"Ah no, dear little mother," Gabrielle replied in the intoxication of
+her happiness, "I hardly hear the thunder."
+
+And Zinka departed. "I do not know why I cannot rejoice in this as I
+ought," she said to herself, "it seems to me as if we had forgotten to
+invite some one of the twelve fairies to this betrothal."
+
+And whilst the thunder crashed above the Champs Elysees she suddenly
+recalled an old fairy story that a fever-stricken peasant from the
+Trastevere had once told her in Rome.
+
+It was a gloomy story, one of those legends in which the popular
+imagination, boldly overleaping all chronological and historical
+obstacles, bestows upon Pagan gods the wings of Christian angels, and
+arms God the Father with the lightnings of angry Jove. It ran somewhat
+thus:
+
+"There was once a beautiful maiden who was good as an angel, so good
+that it gave her unutterable pain to see any one sad and not to be able
+to help; and once when she had cried herself to sleep over the woes of
+mankind she had a wonderful vision. A dark form with a veiled face
+approached her and said, 'If you have the courage to cut your heart out
+of your breast and plant it deep in the earth, there will spring from
+it a flower so glorious, so wonderful, that whoever inhales its
+fragrance will feel a bliss so intense that he would gladly purchase it
+with all the torture of our mortal existence.'
+
+"And the maiden cut her heart out of her breast and planted it deep in
+the brown earth, and watered it with her tears, and there sprang from
+it a magically-beautiful flower, with luxuriant green leaves, and large
+white blossoms with blood-red calyxes, and whoever inhaled the breath
+of these blossoms felt an intoxicating delight course through his
+veins, so that in his wild ecstasy he forgot all earthly care and
+trouble. The flowers unfolded to more and more enchanting loveliness,
+and through the thick foliage sighed the sweetest music.
+
+"Now when the angels in Heaven heard of this strange plant they
+entreated the Almighty Father to allow them to go get it and to plant
+it in Paradise.
+
+"The Lord granted their request. Then they fluttered down from Heaven,
+but when they approached the wondrous plant a voice spoke from it,
+saying, 'Let me alone, I blossom for the consolation of the earth, I
+could not live in Paradise; the soil in which I flourish must be
+watered with heart's blood and tears!'
+
+"But the angels did not heed these words, and, beguiled by the
+delicious fragrance, they tried to tear away the roots from the lap of
+earth; their efforts were vain, they had to return with their purpose
+unfulfilled.
+
+"When mankind saw this it exulted in its blissful possession. Happy
+mortals laughed at the angels' futile envy. Then the angels prostrated
+themselves anew at the feet of the Almighty, and implored Him to
+revenge them upon the blasphemers. And the Almighty gave ear to their
+prayer; He hurled a thunderbolt at the plant, and it was swept from off
+the face of the earth.
+
+"But its roots still slumber underground, and sometimes when in mild
+spring nights a mysterious fragrance steals upon the air, a fragrance
+wafted from no visible blossom, these roots are stirring to life, and
+green leaves shoot upward into the spring. But the sweet perfume still
+moves the angels to anger, and it scarcely rises aloft before the
+thunder rolls over the earth and the lightning blasts the green leaves.
+The flower will never blossom again."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+Oswald and his cousin Georges were sitting at breakfast in their
+pleasant room in the Hotel Bristol by a window that looked out upon the
+Place Vendome, and down the brilliant Rue de la Paix, the perspective
+of which was lost in a hurly-burly of omnibuses, orange carts, flower
+wagons, advertising vehicles painted fiery red, fiacres, sun-illumined
+dust, and human beings rushing madly hither and thither. Whilst Georges
+was drinking his tea in sober comfort with a brief remark as to the
+incomparable excellence of the Paris butter, Oswald, who although
+endowed by nature with an excellent appetite had paid but scant
+attention to his meals of late, recounted for the tenth time to his
+cousin the extraordinary combination of circumstances which had brought
+together Gabrielle and himself. He was a victim of the lovers' delusion
+that sees in the most ordinary occurrences the finger of the Deity, and
+that regards their happiness as a special marvel wrought by Providence
+for their benefit.
+
+It was, so Oswald narrated, in April, on the second day of the Auteuil
+races, the first faint tinge of green was perceptible on the landscape.
+He was on horseback, riding a magnificent Arabian steed which one of
+his friends had lent him, and which he was handling with the excessive
+care which an Austrian always bestows upon a horse that is not his own.
+Suddenly he saw walking across the race-course a young lady in a dark
+green dress; a ray of sunlight that turned her hair to gold attracted
+his attention to her. She walked quickly past with an elderly gentleman
+and Oswald turned to look after her. His horse was a little restless,
+his rider's spurs were rather too sharp; with the sudden movement he
+scratched the animal's silken skin, and instantly exclaimed, "_Ah,
+pardon!_" a piece of courtesy for which his companions ridiculed him
+loudly. In the meantime the young lady with the gray-haired gentleman
+had vanished.
+
+"Who is that exquisitely beautiful girl?" he asked, and Wips Siegburg,
+secretary of the Austrian Legation, replied laughing, "Do you not know
+her, she is your cousin!"
+
+"Gabrielle Truyn!" exclaimed Oswald; and Siegburg said sagely, "this
+comes of enjoying one's self too busily in Paris, and consequently
+finding no time to visit one's nearest relatives."
+
+Oswald peered in every direction but he could not discover her again.
+After the race, under the leafless trees of the Champs Elysees rolled
+crowds of carriages, victorias, all sorts of coaches, four-in-hands,
+lumbering roomy omnibuses,--all veiled in the whirling, sunlit dust as
+in golden gauze, while everywhere, alike in the omnibuses and in the
+more elegant vehicles, reigned a uniform air of dull fatigue.
+
+Paris had lost another battle with ennui.
+
+In the motley throng Oswald was almost forced to walk his horse,
+pondering as he went upon the best way of excusing his discourtesy to
+his uncle. He had now been four entire weeks in Paris, and had not yet
+presented himself in the Avenue Labedoyere. Fortunately he had gone so
+little into society that he had not yet met the Truyns; Paris is so
+huge, perhaps they had not yet heard that he was there. Yes, Paris is
+huge, but 'society' everywhere is small. No, he could hardly venture to
+appear at his uncle's yet.
+
+He was growing quite melancholy over these reflections, when he
+suddenly observed that his horse had coolly poked his nose over the
+hood, which had been thrown back, of a low carriage in front, and was
+nibbling at a bouquet of white roses that he found there. Oswald
+shortened his bridle, and just then a lady sitting in the carriage
+turned round; it was Gabrielle Truyn. With no attempt to conceal her
+displeasure she observed what had been done, and when Oswald, hat in
+hand, humbly stammered his excuses, she bestowed upon him the haughty
+stare which an insolent intruder would have merited, and turned away.
+She knew perfectly well who he was, as he afterwards learned, and that
+he had been four weeks in Paris. The gentleman beside her now turned
+round, his eyes met Oswald's; he smiled, and said with good-humoured
+sarcasm ... "Ossi!--what an unexpected pleasure!"
+
+"Uncle--I--I have long been intending to pay you my respects...."
+Oswald stammered.
+
+"Apparently your resolutions require time to ripen," said Truyn drily.
+
+"Ah uncle!--I--may I come to see you now?"
+
+"You do us too much honour," said Truyn provokingly, "we will kill the
+fatted calf and celebrate the Prodigal's return." Then taking pity upon
+his nephew's embarrassment he added. "Don't be afraid, we shall not
+turn you out of doors, we have some consideration for young gentlemen
+who are in Paris for the first time; we know that they have other
+things to do besides looking up tiresome relatives, what say you,
+Ella?"
+
+"My cousin has forgotten me," the young man murmured, "have the
+kindness to present me to her."
+
+"It is your cousin, Oswald Lodrin, an old playmate of yours."
+
+At her father's words Gabrielle merely turned her exquisite profile
+towards her cousin and acknowledged his low bow by a slight inclination
+of her head. Then she stretched out her hand for her bouquet,
+murmuring, "My poor roses! they are entirely ruined." And she suddenly
+tossed them away into the road. There was an opening in the blockade of
+carriages before them; Gabrielle's golden hair gleamed before Oswald's
+eyes for a flash, then all around grew gray; the twilight had absorbed
+the last glimmer of sunshine.
+
+That same evening Oswald ordered at a large flower shop, on the
+Madeleine Boulevard, the most exquisite bouquet of gardenias, orchids
+and white roses that Paris could produce and sent it to his cousin to
+replace her ruined roses.
+
+All this he retailed. His first visit, too, in the Avenue Labedoyere,
+the visit when he did not find Truyn at home, and when Gabrielle did
+not make her appearance, but Zinka, whom he had not known before,
+received him. There had been much discussion in Austria over this
+second marriage of his uncle, and Oswald had brought to Paris a violent
+antipathy to Zinka. But it soon vanished, or rather was transformed
+into a very affectionate esteem.
+
+And then the first little dinner, a very little dinner (just to make
+them acquainted, Truyn said) strictly _en famille_--no strangers, only
+Oswald and Siegburg. The brightly-lit table with its flowers, glass,
+and sparkling silver, in the middle of the dim brown dining-room, the
+delicate fair heads of the two ladies in their light dresses standing
+out so charmingly against the background of the old leather hangings,
+Truyn's paternal cordiality, and Zinka's kindly raillery,--he thought
+he had never had so delightful a dinner.
+
+Gabrielle, to be sure, held herself rather aloof. She evidently
+resented his tardy appearance in the Avenue Labedoyere; she hardly
+noticed his beautiful flowers. She talked exclusively to Siegburg who
+was odiously entertaining, and who glanced across the table now and
+then, his eyes sparkling with merry malice, at Oswald. Then as they
+were serving the asparagus, he took it into his head to ask Gabrielle,
+"Do you know who is the most courteous man in Paris, Countess
+Gabrielle?"
+
+"No, how should I?"
+
+"Your charming cousin there," rejoined the young diplomat.
+
+"Indeed!" Gabrielle said with incredulous emphasis, bending her head a
+little on one side as is the fashion with pretty women when they
+undertake the inconvenient task of eating asparagus.
+
+"Yes, verily, he says '_pardon_' even to his horse, when he scratches
+it with his spurs."
+
+"Ah! Apparently he lavishes all his courtesy upon horses," Gabrielle
+said pointedly.
+
+"In the case to which I allude, he really did owe some consideration to
+his horse, for the poor animal could not possibly know why he was made
+to feel the spur. The fact was that at the races the other day Lodrin
+saw a lady the sight of whom so electrified him that he turned
+positively all round on his horse, and in doing so scratched the poor
+beast with his spur."
+
+"Ah, and who, if one may ask, was this remarkable lady?" asked
+Gabrielle.
+
+"Ella, since when have you become conscience keeper for young
+gentlemen?" asked Truyn.
+
+She blushed to the roots of her hair, but Oswald said with perfect
+composure, looking her directly in the face: "Certainly--it was
+Countess Gabrielle Truyn."
+
+She bit her lip angrily.
+
+"It serves you right," said Truyn smiling, "why do you ask about
+matters that do not concern you? The jest, however, is a little stale,
+Ossi."'
+
+"I should not venture to jest; I simply told the truth," rejoined
+Oswald. In view of the young girl's evident agitation he had regained
+entire calm.
+
+"One is not always justified in telling the truth," Gabrielle observed
+with the pettish frankness in which even the best-bred young ladies
+will indulge, when irritated by the accelerated beating of their
+hearts.
+
+"Indeed? Not even in reply to a question?" Oswald said very quietly,
+and Truyn frowned after the fashion of affectionate papas, whose
+daughters' behaviour does not exactly gratify their paternal ambition.
+Zinka interrupted the fencing of the young people by an inquiry as to
+the new vaudeville which Gabrielle wished to see, but of which Zinka
+was not quite sure she should approve.
+
+Oswald took no further notice of Gabrielle that evening, but devoted
+himself to Zinka. He sat beside her for nearly an hour, and enjoyed it
+extremely; she had a charming way of listening, assenting to his
+observations by a silent smile, and inciting him to all kinds of small
+confidences, without asking any direct questions.
+
+When he afterwards reflected upon what had been the interesting subject
+of their conversation, he discovered that she had led him to speak only
+of himself, that he had told her everything about his life that a young
+man can tell to a young woman whom he has seen but twice.
+
+She listened attentively, and when he took his leave she had grown
+almost cordial.
+
+"Now that you have broken the ice, I hope we shall see you frequently.
+_A propos_, to-morrrow is our night at the opera; if you have nothing
+more agreeable in prospect and have not heard '_La Juive_' too
+often...."
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+And then the charming, uncertain, hoping, exulting, despairing time
+that ensued! Gabrielle's pique slowly vanished; then without any
+reasonable cause returned; her behaviour towards her cousin vacillated
+strangely between naive cordiality and proud reserve; some days she
+seemed to misconstrue everything that was said, and then all at once a
+single cordial word would mollify her.
+
+And the dances, the cotillon at the Countess Crecy's ball in the pretty
+little Hotel, Rue St. Dominique,--the cotillon in which all had paid
+homage to Gabrielle as to a young queen, and in which when, of all the
+favours that she had to bestow only one remained, she suddenly became
+confused, looking from the favour to her cousin, and seeming more and
+more undecided until at last he advanced a step towards her and
+whispered, "Well, Gabrielle, am I to have the Golden Fleece or not?"
+
+That was two days before the betrothal. To the day of his death he
+should wear that favour and no other on his heart. It should be buried
+with him!
+
+Although not given to writing much he had kept a diary in Paris. Long
+since he had torn out the first pages; its contents now extended
+exactly from the first meeting to the first kiss. After his marriage
+the book was to be sealed up, to be given to his eldest son upon his
+twenty-first birthday.
+
+Whilst Oswald, borne upon a lover's wings that knew no boundary line
+between heaven and earth, between the future and the past, at one time
+eulogized his betrothed, and at another made arrangements for his own
+burial, and his eldest son's twenty-first birthday, Georges, who had
+gradually finished his breakfast, leaned back in his chair watching the
+fantastic wreaths of smoke ascending from the bowl of his tschibouk.
+When at last Oswald paused and fell into a reverie he took occasion to
+utter the following profundity. "Living is very dear in Paris!" Twice
+was he obliged to repeat this brilliant aphorism, before Oswald seemed
+to hear it. Then glancing at his cousin reproachfully, the young fellow
+put his hand in his pocket, "would you like the key, Georges?" he said
+offering it to him.
+
+"No," replied Georges, taking Oswald's hand, key and all in his own,
+and pressing it down upon the table. "No, my dear fellow, many thanks.
+Do you remember what Montaigne says about _le desir qui s'accroist par
+la malaysance_."
+
+"Montaigne?--I am not very intimate with the old gentleman," Oswald
+replied with a laugh, "how came you pray to make his acquaintance?"
+
+"Why you see, Oswald, there have been times when my means were not
+sufficient to provide me with amusements befitting my station in life,
+and I was obliged to have recourse, _faute de mieux_, to reading. But
+to recur to _plaisirs de la malaysance_, Montaigne proves as clearly as
+that two and two make four that if there were no locks there would be
+no thieves! Now,--hm--one thing is certain; since your strong box has
+been open to me I no longer have the smallest desire to possess myself
+of its contents. Do you know, Ossi, that I have grown very fond of you
+in these few weeks? Do not overturn the pepper cruet," he admonished
+his cousin, who suddenly extended his hand to him with somewhat awkward
+shyness. "Yes, very fond, you have effected a radical change in me; I
+should really like to go back with you to Bohemia, perhaps you could
+find me something to do there. Will you take me with you to Bohemia?"
+
+"With the greatest pleasure, Georges."
+
+"Reflect a little. What would your mother say to your introducing an
+unbidden guest into her household?"
+
+"My dear Georges, my mother, if I were to take home Karl Marx--or--" he
+did not conclude for at that moment his servant brought in a small
+salver upon which lay his newspapers and letters.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+A couple of cards of invitation were after a fleeting examination stuck
+into the frame of the mirror, then came two Austrian newspapers, then
+three letters from Austria; one addressed in a firm, bold hand he
+opened instantly with a smile of pleasure and the exclamation "from my
+mother! at last! I am very curious to know what she says to my
+betrothal--I began to be anxious--she has taken so long to write."
+
+But the light in his eyes faded, he frowned, angrily crushed the letter
+together, and propping his elbows on the table leaned his head upon his
+hands. "I could not have thought this possible," he murmured.
+
+"Is not your mother satisfied?" Georges asked.
+
+"Satisfied--?" growled Oswald, "satisfied--? she couldn't be
+dissatisfied if she tried ever so hard, but she does not rejoice with
+me. There, read that. 'Dear child, I agree to everything that will make
+you happy, and pray for every blessing upon yourself and your
+betrothed, whom, moreover, I remember as a charming little girl ....'"
+
+"Well, what more can you ask?" said Georges, elevating his eyebrows.
+
+"What more can I ask?" Oswald very nearly shouted, "what more can I
+ask? why, I am not used to having such conventional phrases served up
+to me by my mother!"
+
+"Do you and your mother live upon perfectly good terms with each
+other?" asked Georges, mechanically brushing away a few crumbs on the
+table-cloth, and without looking at his cousin.
+
+Oswald opened his eyes wide. "My mother and I? Why, yes, what can you
+be thinking of?"
+
+Georges made no reply, he remembered perfectly well that years
+previously, before he had left home the Countess Lodrin had been
+anything but tender to her charming little son, nay, that she had been
+the downright fine-lady mother who figures in romances, but who
+fortunately is found but seldom in real life.
+
+He thought it unnecessary, however, to remind his cousin of this.
+
+In the meanwhile Oswald had somewhat cooled down. "My poor unreasonable
+mother!" he said half-aloud to himself, "it is so hard for her to give
+me up, in all her life she has had me only. Well, I shall soon bring
+her round. Ah, Georges, Georges, it seems but a poor arrangement in
+this life that we must so often take from one person to give to
+another! I only hope that my mother's letter to my betrothed is more
+cordial. Ah, here are two more epistles," and in no cheerful mood he
+opened one after the other of the two very business-like envelopes,
+read their contents, compared them with each other, threw both upon the
+table and, quite pale, with very red lips and flashing eyes, began to
+pace to and fro, from time to time passing his hand angrily across his
+forehead. "Everything disagreeable is sure to happen all at once!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+Georges knowing his cousin's impetuousity watched his excitement with
+smiling composure. "Is Vesuvius again in a state of eruption," he said
+kindly, "or what is the matter, man alive?"
+
+"Siegl is an ass!"
+
+"Ah?--and your man of business besides?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Then this present affair is a matter of business?"
+
+"No!" Oswald said gloomily, "an affair of honour. The matter is that I
+am forced to break my word--_voila tont!_ But I cannot understand
+Siegl, he ought to know ...." Suddenly he went to his secretary, opened
+it, rummaged nervously among a chaos of letters, at last finding a
+closely-written sheet, which he read through carefully, then grew
+very quiet, and seating himself opposite Georges at the uncleared
+breakfast-table, said "I am wrong, it is my fault."
+
+"Pray explain yourself," said Georges, "my counsel, and my experience
+are at your service."
+
+"The matter is simple enough. Before I came away from home I gave Siegl
+a power of attorney to conclude an unfinished sale, the sale of a
+couple of insignificant building lots in W----. In practical business
+matters I can thoroughly rely upon him. Well, the other day I had this
+letter from him asking whether I would agree to the winding up of the
+affair under certain conditions, and at the end of the letter he asked
+me in this case to telegraph him. His handwriting is execrable and his
+style most tedious,--and--and I hurried off to the Avenue Labedoyere. I
+was going to ride in the Bois with Gabrielle,--in short I skimmed over
+the letter, never noticing that he asked about another far more
+important sale, and telegraphed, 'I agree to everything; do as you
+think best.'"
+
+"_Eh bien!_"
+
+Oswald cleared his throat. "You remember Dr. Schmitt? He was our family
+physician, a true man if ever there was one, my father valued him
+highly. Well, he leased an estate from us, Kanitz, it lies in one
+corner of the Schneeburg grounds; after the old man's death his son
+held the lease, he is a very good fellow, we served together in the
+same regiment in our volunteer year. He married, and set great store by
+the lease, which would run out in three years. Before his marriage he
+came to me to know whether he might depend upon an extension of the
+lease; of course I promised it to him, thereby relieving him of immense
+anxiety. And now Siegl has sold the property at a high price to
+Capriani, and is very proud of the transaction, and it is all because
+of my thoughtlessness, because I thought it too tedious to read through
+his roundabout epistle and .... and young Schmitt, poor devil, is quite
+beside himself, and writes me this letter! I cannot understand Siegl,
+he might have asked me again, he knows me perfectly well, he ought
+to have known that I could never have contemplated anything of the
+kind ....! But it's just the way with all my people! If they can make a
+few gulden for me, no matter how, they pride themselves upon it hugely;
+no one seems to understand that I care precious little for the
+augmentation of my income; what I want is, to alleviate as far as lies
+in my power the existence of as many men as possible!"
+
+"How old are you, Ossi?" Georges asked with an oddly-scrutinizing
+glance at his cousin.
+
+"Twenty-six. What makes you ask?"
+
+"Your transcendental views of life, my child. Men and ants are born
+with wings, but both rub them off in the struggle for existence,--men
+usually do so before they are twenty-four."
+
+"That goal is passed," rejoined Oswald, "and the winged ants do not
+lose their wings, they only die young," and he became again absorbed in
+study of the two letters. "I cannot blame Siegl this time, try as hard
+as I can, it is _my_ fault; 'tis enough to drive one mad!"
+
+"I can understand how it goes against the grain, but--well, you must
+indemnify Schmitt with another property."
+
+"That of course, but it does not help the matter," Oswald grumbled, "he
+has a special love for Kanitz--he was born there, his parents are
+buried there in a pretty little churchyard on the edge of the woods by
+the Holtitzer brook. He takes care of their graves himself--they are
+perfect beds of flowers. And his wife!--I paid her a visit last
+Autumn,--she is a dear little shy thing, and she looked at me out
+of her large eyes as if I were Omnipotence itself. There is such an
+old-fashioned loyalty, so poetic a content about those people; upon
+whom shall we depend if we heedlessly destroy the devotion of such as
+they? Schmitt must keep Kanitz, even although I buy it back at double
+the price paid for it!"
+
+"My dear fellow you can do nothing with money where Capriani is
+concerned," Georges observed calmly, "but I am convinced that he is
+very desirous of standing well with all of you. If you make a personal
+request of him he certainly will not object to annul his purchase. If
+the matter is really important to you go and call upon Capriani,
+and...."
+
+Oswald tossed his head angrily. "What? ask me to have any personal
+intercourse with that man--no--in an extreme case indeed----but there
+must be some legal way out of the difficulty, it is a matter for our
+agents--_Ca!_ A quarter of twelve and I breakfast at Truyn's."
+
+"You must make haste. Can I do anything for you?"
+
+Oswald went to the writing-table and in large bold characters
+wrote a couple of lines on a sheet of paper. "Pray see that this
+telegraph to Schmitt goes off immediately, and then one thing
+more--if it does not bore you too much--please leave a card for me at
+the places on this list. Do not take any trouble, but if you should be
+passing.... Good-bye old fellow--remember we are to go home together."
+
+"Hotspur!" murmured Georges as the door closed after his cousin. "Well,
+after all, I do not grudge him his position; he becomes it well."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+If Oswald Lodrin might be regarded as the chivalric embodiment of the
+old-time '_noblesse oblige_,' his cousin Georges was on the contrary
+the personification of the modern axiom '_noblesse permet_.'
+
+He had made use of the credit of the Lodrins, the accumulation of
+centuries, to screen his maddest pranks. True, he had never overdrawn
+this credit, he had never by any of his numberless eccentricities
+raised any barrier between himself and his equals in rank. He had grown
+to manhood discontentedly convinced that Count Hugo Lodrin, his
+father's elder brother, had done him great wrong, and this wrong was
+his marriage late in life with the beautiful Princess Wjera Zinsenburg.
+
+Georges was barely eight years old at the time, but he remembered as
+long as he lived how angrily his father, after a life of careless
+extravagance led in the certainty of inheriting the Lodrin estates, had
+received the announcement of the betrothal, and how hardly he had
+spoken of Wjera Zinsenburg.
+
+The boy grew up, his heart filled with a hatred none the less vehement
+because it was childish, first for his aunt, and afterward for his
+cousin.
+
+His hatred for his aunt grew with his growth, but as for his hatred for
+his cousin?... It was difficult to cherish resentment against his
+loving, helpless little cousin with his big black eyes and pretty rosy
+mouth. And in the summer holidays, which he spent every year in Tornow
+with his father, he struck up a friendship with the little fellow.
+
+It was a lasting friendship. One day after his father's death when he
+had for several years been an officer of hussars, and always in
+pecuniary difficulties, Georges received a letter, which upon very
+slanting lines evidently ruled in pencil by Ossi, himself, and in very
+sprawling clumsy characters, ran thus:
+
+
+"Dear Georges,
+
+"Papa says you need money, I don't need any, so I send you my pocket
+money, and when I'm big you shall have more. The donkeys are given
+away. Papa got angry with Jack because he bit me. Now, for a
+punishment, he has to carry sand for the gardeners. I have a pair of
+ponies now; they are very pretty and I ride every day. I can ride quite
+well and I am not afraid, but I stroke Jack whenever I see him, and I
+think he is ashamed of himself.
+
+                                   "Your Ossi."
+
+
+Yes, he needed money--a great deal of money; his father had left him
+next to nothing, and the small allowance which his uncle made him,
+always seasoning it with good advice, did not nearly suffice him.
+
+His uncle paid his debts upon condition that he should exchange from
+the hussars into the dragoons, then held in rather high estimation as
+heavy cavalry. Georges needed money quite as much as a dragoon,
+however, as when a hussar. Then came feminine influences--a quarrel
+with his colonel--a duel. He resigned his commission with honour and to
+the regret of the entire staff. Once more, and, as he was solemnly
+informed, for the last time, his uncle paid his debts, and wishing to
+have no further concern in his nephew's money matters he also paid out
+a handsome sum as a release from all further demands.
+
+Georges manifested his repentance after this settlement by an immediate
+excursion to Paris with a pert little French concert-saloon singer.
+This was the finishing stroke in the eyes of his strictly moral, nay,
+even bigotted uncle. From that time onward the young man's letters to
+the old count were returned to him unopened. Georges vanished from the
+scene. The rumour ran that after he had tried his luck and failed in
+the California gold diggings, he had been a rider in a circus; there
+was also a report that he had served mahogany-coloured Spaniards and
+jet-black negroes as waiter at Rio Janeiro, that he had been an omnibus
+driver in New York--this last fact was vouched for. Still, he contrived
+to impress the stamp of spontaneous eccentricity upon every one of the
+expedients to which he resorted in his pecuniary embarrassments.
+
+One day after Oswald had attained his majority he received a letter in
+which his cousin, after appealing to the old boyish friendship,
+described his present condition. Oswald, who was kindheartedness
+itself, and, moreover, enthusiastically eager to discharge his duties
+as head of the family, did not delay an hour in arranging his cousin's
+affairs and in settling upon him an income suitable to his rank.
+
+Thus Georges returned to his old sphere of life and to his former
+habits, smiling calmly, but testifying no special delight, and not the
+slightest surprise at the change in his circumstances. The honest
+friendship which he felt for the cousin whom as a child he had petted,
+quite destroyed his old grudge against his fate.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+Picture a sleepy little market-town lying, at a respectful distance,
+near a very large castle, where the clock in the tower has not gone for
+twenty years; a ruggedly uneven market-place, thickly paved with sharp
+stones and no sidewalk, queer old-fashioned houses with high-gabled
+roofs and small windows, and here and there a faded-out image of
+the Virgin above an arched gateway, a tradesman's shop serving as
+post-office as well as for the sale of tobacco, and adorned over the
+doorway with a wreath of wooden lemons and pomegranates, and the
+imperial double-eagle, a corner where stands a piled-up carrier's van
+covered with black oilskin, a smithy sending forth from its dark
+interior a shower of crimson sparks, while from the low passage-way of
+the opposite inn, 'The Golden Lion,' a waiter with a dirty apron, and
+bare feet thrust into old red slippers, is gazing over at the smithy
+where a crowd of dripping street boys are collected about two
+thoroughbreds and a groom liveried in the English fashion--picture all
+this and you see Rautschin,--Rautschin on a dark afternoon in May in a
+pouring rain with an accompaniment of thunder and lightning.
+
+Somewhat apart from the gaping urchins a young man is walking to and
+fro in front of the row of houses; his quick impatient step testifies
+to his having been detained by some untoward mishap and also to his
+being quite unused to such delay.
+
+The rain descends from heaven in fine, regular, grey sheets. The young
+man's cigar has gone out, he is cold, and thoroughly annoyed he passes
+the unattractive waiter and enters the inn.
+
+The room in which he takes refuge is low and spacious with bright blue
+walls, and a well-smoked ceiling. Limp, soiled muslin curtains
+reminding one of the train of an old ball-dress, hang before the
+windows where are glass hanging-lamps, and flower-pots of painted
+porcelain filled with mignonette, cactuses, and catnip. The furniture
+consists of two chromos representing the Emperor and his consort, of a
+number of yellow chairs, of several green tables, and of an array of
+spittoons.
+
+At one of the tables sit three guests evidently much at home; one of
+them is tuning a zither, while the other two are smoking very
+malodorous cigars, and drinking beer out of tankards of greenish glass.
+Engaged in eager conversation none of them observed the entrance of the
+stranger who, to avoid attracting attention, seated himself in a dark
+corner with his back to the group.
+
+"A couple more truck-loads of all sorts of fine furniture have arrived
+at Schneeburg," remarked one of the trio, a young man with red hair,
+and unusual length of limb. He is a surveyor's clerk, his name is
+Wenzl Wostraschil, but he is familiarly known as 'the Daily News' from
+the amount of sensational intelligence which he disperses. "Count
+Capriani ...."
+
+"I know of no Count Capriani," interrupted an old gentleman with white
+hair and a red face; he is Doctor Swoboda, by profession district
+physician, in politics just as strictly conservative as Count Truyn
+became as soon as he had proclaimed his socialism by taking to himself
+a bourgeoise bride--"I know of no Count Capriani, you probably mean
+Conte!"
+
+"It is the same thing," observed the zither player, Herr Cibulka.
+
+"In the dictionary, perhaps," the old doctor rejoined sarcastically.
+
+"The two titles are synonymous in my opinion," said Herr Cibulka as he
+laid aside his tuning-key and began to play 'The Tyrolean and his
+child,' while with closed lips he half-hummed, half-murmured the air to
+himself, his big fat hands groping to and fro on the instrument as if
+trying to aid his memory.
+
+Herr Cibulka--this sonorous Slavonic name signifies _onion_ in
+Bohemian--Eugene Alexander Cibulka--he is wont to sign his name with a
+very tiny Cibulka at the end of a very big Eugene Alexander--assistant
+district-attorney, transcendentalist, and Lovelace, is the pioneer of
+culture in the sleepy droning little town. He is a tall young fellow
+inclining to corpulence, with an uncommonly luxuriant growth of hair on
+both his head and face, and with the flabby oily skin of a man who has
+all his life long been fed upon dainties.
+
+Evidently much occupied with his outer man he dresses himself as he
+says, 'simply but tastefully;' he pulls his cuffs well over his
+knuckles, and delights in a snuff-coloured velvet coat with metal
+buttons. He fancies that he looks like the Flying Dutchman, or at least
+like the brigand, Jaromir. In reality he looks like an advertisement
+for 'the only genuine onion ointment for the beard.' He is considered
+by the Rautschin ladies as quite irresistible and fabulously cultured.
+He criticises everything--music, literature and politics, being
+especially great in the domain of politics, and he discourses at length
+whenever an opportunity presents itself, combating with admirable
+energy perils that have long ceased to terrify any one. It is not clear
+as to what party he belongs, but since he berates the clergy, hates the
+nobility, and despises the lower-classes, consequently pursuing the
+straight and narrow path of his subjective vanities and social
+aspirations, he probably considers himself a Liberal. His uncle is in
+the ministerial department and _he_ dreams of a portfolio.
+
+Meanwhile the red-haired man with an air of indifference has taken up
+his tankard. "Count or Conte, as you please," he said, giving the
+disputed point the go-by, and continuing as he put his beer glass down
+on an uninviting little brown table, "at all events he must be
+accustomed to live in fine style, for he declared that it was
+impossible for a man used to modern conveniences to live in Schneeburg
+in the condition in which Count Malzin had occupied it. So the house
+has been entirely newly furnished. Immense! the doings of these
+money-giants--the world belongs to them!"
+
+"Unfortunately, and our poor nobles must go to the wall," sighed the
+old doctor, whose platonic love for the nobility keeps pace with the
+red-haired man's equally platonic affection for money. "Except a couple
+of owners of entailed estates here and there none of them will be able
+to compete with these great financiers."
+
+"The law of entail cannot be allowed to exist much longer, it is a
+stumbling block in the path of national progress .... My uncle in the
+ministerial department ...." Eugene Alexander began in a deep bass
+voice, which suggested a sentimentally guttural rendering of 'The
+Evening Star' at aesthetic tea-parties.
+
+"Spare me the remarks of your uncle in the ministerial department,"
+interrupted Dr. Swoboda angrily.
+
+"The law of entail must be abolished," Herr Cibulka said, as another
+man might say, "that new street must be opened."
+
+"Have you got your liberal seven-league boots on again?" Swoboda
+rejoined. "How you stride off into the future! You evidently suppose
+that if the law of entail were abolished to-day or to-morrow, this
+'stumbling-block in the path of national progress' being removed,
+various districts of Tornow and Rautschin would find their way into the
+pockets of yourself and of your hypothetical children? You are
+mistaken, my dear fellow, hugely mistaken. Heaven forbid! Trade would
+monopolize the real estate, and that is all you would get by it,
+nothing more. The supremacy of money would be confirmed."
+
+"I should prefer, it is true, the supremacy of mind!" Eugene Alexander
+said didactically.
+
+"Ah! you think you would come in for a share there," growled the old
+doctor under his breath.
+
+Without noticing the irony, Eugene Alexander went on, "The supremacy of
+money, of individual merit, is certainly more to be desired than the
+supremacy of fossilized prejudice."
+
+"Indeed?... now tell us honestly," said the doctor, "do you really
+believe that the masses, whose sufferings are real and not imaginary,
+would gain anything thereby?"
+
+"There certainly would be a fresh impetus given to culture,--a freer
+circulation of capital," began Cibulka.
+
+"Listen to me a moment," broke in the doctor. "Circulation of capital?
+A financier's capital circulates inside his pockets, not outside of
+them except on certain occasions on 'Change. The art of spending money
+does not go hand-in-hand with the art of making it,--few things in this
+world delight me more than the spectacle of a millionaire who, having
+ostentatiously retired from business, contemplates his money-bags in
+positive despair, not knowing what to do with them and bored to
+death because the only occupation in which he takes any delight,
+money-getting, is debarred him by his position."
+
+"No one can say of Conte Capriani that he does not know how to spend
+his money," the red-headed 'Daily News' affirmed, "everything is being
+arranged in the most expensive style, the rooms hung with silk shot
+with silver, the carpets as thick as your fist, and the paintings and
+artistic objects,--why they are coming by car-loads. I am intimate with
+the castellan, and he shows me everything; the outlay is princely."
+
+The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "The extravagance of a financier is
+always for show, it is never a natural expenditure. There's no free
+swing to it, and I am not at all impressed by your Conte; one day he
+may take it into his head to paper his room with thousand-gulden
+bank-notes, and the next he will haggle like the veriest skinflint;
+just ask the Malzin servants; he discharged them at a moment's notice
+without a penny."
+
+"They were a worthless old lot," Eugene Alexander rejoined, "and
+besides it was Count Malzin's duty to provide for his people."
+
+"Poor Count Malzin!" exclaimed the doctor, "he pleaded for his
+servants, as I know positively; but provide for them--how could he
+provide for them when he could not provide for his own son! When I
+think of our poor Count Fritz! A handsomer, sweeter-tempered, kindlier
+gentleman never lived in the world! And when I reflect that Schneeburg
+is now in the hands of strangers, that Count Fritz cannot live
+there....!"
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon," the red-head insisted, wriggling on his chair
+like an eel, "he is going to live there, in the little Swiss cottage in
+the park where the young people used to be with their tutor and
+drawing-master in the hunting season, away from the bustle in the
+castle."
+
+"Frightful!" murmured the doctor. "This whole Schneeburg business is
+too--too sad. The old bailiff is ill of typhus fever brought on by
+sheer grief and anxiety, and his whole family would go to destruction
+were it not for the generous support of the Countess Lodrin."
+
+"Don't tell us of the generosity of the Countess Lodrin," sneered
+Cibulka, or of the generosity of any of the Lodrins. "You need only look
+at their estates; the peasants are huddled there in pens like swine."
+
+The stranger, who had until now remained motionless in his dim corner,
+apparently paying no heed to the talk, here turned his head to listen.
+
+"That seems very improbable," Dr. Swoboda replied to the last
+assertion, "The young count treats all his dependants with a kindly
+consideration that it would be difficult to match. If his people suffer
+from any injustice it certainly is without his knowledge; Count Oswald
+is one of the old school. Hats off to so true a gentleman!"
+
+"You are, and always will be a truckler to princes," said Eugene
+Alexander, offended. "I must say that a man like Capriani who has won
+for himself a position in society among the greatest by his personal
+merit, by the work of his hands, seems to me more worthy of
+consideration than a petty Count, who has had everything showered upon
+him from his cradle."
+
+"What trash you are talking about personal merit," thundered the
+doctor. "Capriani has grown rich on swindling--swindling, on
+'Change--swindling in women's boudoirs. He was formerly a physician,
+and as such insinuated himself into distinguished houses, and wormed
+out political secrets which he made use of in his speculations. Finally
+he married a rich banker's daughter; they say his wife is a good woman.
+I never saw him but once, but I cannot understand how a woman with a
+modicum of taste could ever consent...."
+
+"Oh they say that in his time he has enjoyed the favour of all kinds of
+ladies, very great ladies...." the red-head interposed with an air
+of importance. "I know from the widow of the late Count Lodrin's
+valet--there was a game carried on down there in Italy between the
+Countess Wjera...."
+
+He had no time to conclude. The stranger sprang up and like a
+flash of lightning struck the speaker twice across the face with his
+riding-whip; then without a word he left the room.
+
+"Who was that?" asked Cibulka pale with terror, while the red-headed
+man, bewildered, rubbed his cheek.
+
+"Count Oswald Lodrin," said the doctor. "It serves you right for your
+insolence!"
+
+"I shall not submit to such brutality--I will appeal to the courts,"
+snarled red-head.
+
+"And what can you say?" said the old doctor. "'I have wantonly repeated
+low, scandalous gossip--I have slandered a lady who is blessed and
+worshipped by all the country round, I have spit in the face of a
+saint'--this is what you can say. Let me advise you not to stir, my
+worthy Wostraschil."
+
+This 'my worthy Wostraschil' was uttered by the simple old doctor in a
+tone which he must have caught unconsciously and involuntarily from
+some aristocratic patient.
+
+He arose and stood at the window, looking with a smile of satisfaction
+after Oswald, who with head held haughtily erect, face pale, and eyes
+flashing angrily, was striding directly across the square to the
+smithy.
+
+"A splendid fellow--a true gentleman," the old man murmured. He was
+proud of this Austrian, product, and would gladly have paid a tax for
+the maintenance of this national article of luxury.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Arrived in Tornow only that morning, Oswald hardly finished his
+breakfast before he rode over to Kanitz, where, after his good-humoured
+despotic fashion he adjusted the whole affair with a smile, and soothed
+the anxious young tenant.
+
+On the way back his horse lost a shoe, and his groom was well scolded
+by his impetuous young master for the carelessness resulting in such an
+accident. The riders had been forced to abate their speed and to take a
+roundabout way through Rautschin, that the nervous, high-bred animal
+might be relieved as soon as possible.
+
+On the way they were overtaken by the storm. Perhaps Oswald would not
+have endured the very smoky atmosphere of the inn room so long, had he
+not been unconsciously interested in the talk of its three guests.
+
+By no means indifferent to Doctor Swoboda's enthusiastic appreciation
+of his merits, he had enjoyed playing the part of the Emperor Joseph in
+the popular song and was meditating some pleasantly-devised way of
+surprising the old man with his thanks for his loyalty, when the vile
+insinuation made by the red-head drove everything else out of his mind.
+
+The horse was shod; he flung himself into the saddle and galloped out
+of the town.
+
+The rain had ceased, the clouds were broken. Steaming with moisture,
+its outlines glimmering in the light of the setting sun, Rautschin was
+left behind. Long streaks of violet cloud with golden edges, lay just
+above the horizon, and where the sun was setting, the sky glowed dully
+red. The storm had torn the bridal wreath from the head of spring; on
+the surface of the water lying in the ruts and hollows of the roads
+glinted snowy, fallen blossoms, and the apple-trees and pear-trees
+trembled softly in their tattered white array, like young people
+awakened from a dream. By the roadside stretched a sheet of water, its
+shores bristling with rushes, its surface bluish-gray and gloomy, like
+a large pool into which the sky had fallen and been drowned. A couple
+of ravens were flapping heavily above it.
+
+The golden edges of the clouds grew narrower, the glow of the sunset
+was consumed in its own fire, the colours faded, and profound
+melancholy brooded over all the plain.
+
+Oswald's blood was still in a ferment. "Rascally dog!" he muttered
+between his teeth ...."and to have to drop the matter for my mother's
+sake, not to be able to thrash him within an inch of his life, and
+drive him from the country! No human being is safe from such envious
+liars, they would drag down everything above them, even the Lord God
+Himself! Bah, _cela ne devrait pas monter jusque a la hauteur de mon
+dedain_. But,"--he shook himself,--"it takes more than one's will to
+calm the blood."
+
+Twilight had set in when he reached Tornow Castle.
+
+It was a spacious, clumsy structure with several court-yards, one
+portion with pointed Gothic archways was ancient, irregular and
+picturesque, another part was of a later rococo style with conventional
+decoration. In front, fringed by tall alders lay a romantic little
+lake, the park stretched far to the rear of the castle. The iron gate
+with its quaint scroll work, above which was suspended the Lodrin
+escutcheon, between two time-stained sandstone urns, turned upon its
+rusty hinges, and Oswald rode up to the castle and dismounted. Two
+lackeys, who seemed to have little to do save to wear their blue
+liveries and striped waistcoats with due dignity, and self-complacency,
+were standing in the gateway, peering into the gathering darkness. The
+young Count ran hastily up the broad, flat hall-steps.
+
+The last pale ray of daylight penetrated into the hall, through the
+tiny panes of the huge windows; here and there the metallic lustre of
+some old weapon on the wall gleamed among the dusky shadows.
+
+"Ossi, is that you?" called a voice almost masculine in its deep tone,
+but musical withal and in evident anxiety, as a tall female figure
+advanced to meet him.
+
+"Yes, mother," he replied gently.
+
+"How late you are! We have been waiting dinner an hour for you."
+
+"Forgive me, mother,"--he carried her hand with reverent affection to
+his lips,--"it really was not my fault."
+
+"Fault--fault! I am not reproaching you, Ossi! No, but my child, I was
+half dead with anxiety. You are always so punctual, and one quarter of
+an hour after another passed and you did not come.--And then the storm.
+The lightning struck near here in several places, and your John Bull is
+skittish,--you do not think so,--but I know the beast well. If it had
+gone on for one more quarter of an hour .... but what detained you, my
+child?"
+
+Oswald smiled tenderly and considerately, as tall chivalric sons are
+wont to smile at the exaggerated anxieties of their mothers. "Give me
+only five minutes to change my dress and I will tell you all," he said,
+and once more kissing her hand he hurried away.
+
+Oswald's was one of those impetuous temperaments which are always
+stirred to the depths morally and physically by a violent outburst of
+anger; even when its cause is forgotten every pulse and vein will still
+thrill.
+
+Although he joined his mother in the drawing-room some minutes later in
+a perfectly cheerful mood, she instantly saw from his face that
+something must have provoked him excessively.
+
+"Anything disagreeable?" she asked drawing him down beside her upon a
+sofa, "did you have a distressing scene with Schmitt? did he reproach
+you? or ...."
+
+"Heaven forbid, mamma!" broke in Oswald. "Schmitt and reproach?--he is
+the most devoted soul--humiliatingly devoted and faithful! Poor
+Schmitt! No, no, my horse cast a shoe. I was terribly vexed, I had to
+ride slowly, and take the roundabout way through Rautschin." He spoke
+quickly and with forced gayety.
+
+"You are concealing something, lest it should annoy me," the countess
+said decidedly. "When will you learn that nothing in the world annoys
+me as much as your considerate reticence! I lie awake half the night
+when I see that you have some vexation to bear which you will not share
+with me. You ought to have no secrets from me."
+
+"In a certain way every honourable man must have secrets from her whom
+he respects as I respect you," Oswald said half-annoyed, half-tenderly,
+while he puzzled his brains to discover a way of pacifying his mother
+without telling either a falsehood or the whole truth. A brilliant idea
+then occurred to him. "In fact the matter is a very stupid affair. In
+the inn where I stopped during the storm I suddenly heard one of three
+men who were in the room speak with contempt of the Lodrin generosity;
+the fellow asserted that on the Lodrin estates the labourers lived in
+pens like pigs, and,--er--my temperament is not exactly stoical, and
+I,--in short I got angry. It is hard to hear such things when one
+honestly tries to treat his people well! And there may be some truth in
+it; I will make inquiries to-morrow, no, I will find out for myself. I
+can learn nothing from my bailiffs, they only cajole me. Last year
+there was typhus fever in Morowitz, the people died like flies, and I
+knew nothing of it; when at last I did learn about it I went there
+immediately, but the epidemic was well nigh at an end. _A propos_,
+mamma, I cannot but forgive you if it be so, but was it not all
+concealed from me at your request? You knew that I should go over there
+at once, and you were afraid of contagion."
+
+"No, my dear child," the countess said gravely, "foolishly anxious as I
+am about you upon trifling occasions,--and I have just shown how
+foolishly anxious I can be,--I never would lift a finger to seclude you
+from a peril if such peril lay in the path of duty. I would rather die
+of anxiety than hamper you or exert a detracting influence upon you in
+your line of conduct. I would be broken on the wheel to save your life,
+but----" she shuddered and moved closer to him,--"I would rather see
+you dead, than anything else save what you are--my pride, and a
+blessing to all around you!" She looked him full in the face, the
+mother's large, earnest eyes gleaming with exultant enthusiasm. "If you
+only knew how I suffered during that stupid storm! I am so glad to have
+you again, my boy, my fine, noble boy!" And drawing his head down to
+her she kissed him on the brow.
+
+The rustle of a newspaper attracted Oswald's attention, and for the
+first time he observed Georges, who, buried in the depths of a
+luxurious arm-chair, had been watching from behind his newspaper the
+little scene between mother and son.
+
+A servant appeared at the door--dinner was announced.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X.
+
+
+"Very remarkable!" Georges said a few hours later as, smoking a cigar,
+he entered his cousin's bedroom, where Oswald was already in bed.
+
+"What is very remarkable?" Oswald asked drowsily as he lay on his back,
+his hands clasped under his head.
+
+"The change in your mother," said Georges, sitting down on the edge of
+the bed, "I should hardly have known her again."
+
+"I can't understand that," Oswald rejoined. "Her hair has grown
+gray--it grew gray when she was quite young,--but her features are the
+same. I think her very beautiful still."
+
+"I think her more beautiful than ever," Georges said gravely, "but...."
+he thoughtfully blew the smoke from his cigar upwards to the
+ceiling--"how old is your mother?"
+
+"Fifty-six."
+
+"Only fifty-six--and yet she seems an old woman."
+
+"An old woman....! What are you thinking of? My mother can do nearly as
+much as I can, she can ride for five hours at a time, and can take long
+walks and never...."
+
+"My dear fellow," interrupted Georges impatiently. "I did not mean to
+say that your respected mamma seemed at all decrepit, but only that her
+features, her whole bearing, wear the stamp of that calm, kindly
+cheerfulness that belongs to those who have done with life. She asks
+nothing more--she bestows. And that, Ossi, is not a characteristic of
+youth--no, not of even, the most generous youth."
+
+"There you are right," Oswald rejoined thoughtfully. "Many a woman of
+her age would still go into society and enjoy its distractions, she,
+since my father's death, has had no thought of anything except my
+education and the management of my property. It is wonderful, the
+knowledge she has of business. You would laugh if I should tell you of
+what large sums she saved up for me during my minority. Such strict
+economy was not to my taste, and I put a stop to it, but it must be
+forgiven in a mother."
+
+"And the gentleness and kindness of her manner!" Georges continued,
+"her unreasoning maternal nervousness! I assure you it was no easy
+task, the hour spent in trying to allay her anxiety. Her feeling for
+you is positive idolatry."
+
+"Try to be patient with this weakness of hers."
+
+"My dear boy, he would be a worthless fellow who did not respect this
+weakness. It only surprises me in your mother; I had not expected
+anything of the kind. Before I left home she kept you at such a
+distance. I could not then understand why she always treated you so
+coldly and harshly, and, to tell the truth, I took such, lack of
+affection on her part, very ill."
+
+Oswald leaned upon his elbow among the pillows. "That was while my
+father was alive," he said softly, "yes, I have often thought of that,
+and have thought also that I could explain her conduct. You see my
+father's foolish fondness for me irritated her, and she suppressed the
+manifestation of her own affection. Between ourselves, Georges, my
+mother was wretched in her marriage; her poor heart was always upon the
+rack, it could no more beat freely and naturally than a man with a rope
+tight about his neck can sing. I respected my father immensely,
+but ... well, Georges, look there...." he pointed to a large painting
+above his bed, the portrait of the countess in the proud splendour of
+her youthful beauty, "and then, look there...." and he pointed to a
+white plaster death-mask framed in black velvet hanging on the wall
+opposite. "As far back as I can remember, my father looked just like
+that; they were never congenial. And now let me go to sleep, old fellow,
+good-night!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+No, 'congenial' they never had been and never could have been.
+
+Although the painting was far from portraying the charm of the Countess
+Lodrin's beauty in the bloom of youth, the repulsive death-mask
+opposite did full justice to the deceased count. The face that it
+represented was almost horse-like in its length; smoothly shaven as
+that of a monk, with a sharp-pointed nose, little round eyes, a mouth
+like the slit in a child's money-jug, and seamed with innumerable
+wrinkles, it resembled one of those bloodless aged heads which abound
+in pictures by Memmling or Van Eyck.
+
+It would be an error to suppose that illness and the final agony had
+distorted the face before it had been perpetuated in the plaster cast.
+Count Lodrin had never looked otherwise, he had always looked like a
+corpse, and Pistasch Kamenz boldly maintained that 'the old gentleman
+looked his best in his coffin.'
+
+Not only Count Pistasch, but everybody else ridiculed Count Lodrin; few
+men have ever lived who have been more ridiculed. One fact, however, no
+ridicule could affect--Count Lodrin was a gentleman through and
+through.
+
+That he possessed a tender heart and a sense of duty, which, in spite
+of the vacillations of a timid temperament, always triumphed in
+important crises, no one had ever denied who had seen him in any grave
+emergency,--and that this sense of duty, with a mild admixture of pride
+of rank, belonged to him more as a gentleman than as a human being, did
+not detract from his merit.
+
+Given over in his youth to the ghostly influence of priestly tutors, he
+had led a melancholy, misanthropic existence. His delicate constitution
+made impossible any participation in the manly sports of his equals in
+rank. Therefore there was developed in him, as in many another recluse,
+an intense devotion to art; he was indefatigable in sifting and
+enlarging his collections.
+
+People of his rank usually marry young. It was not so with him. As with
+several historic characters, the timidity of his temperament culminated
+in an aversion to women, which rendered futile all the bold schemes of
+ambitious mammas. In his solitude he had come to be forty-five years
+old; it was an article of faith in Austrian society that he never would
+marry, when suddenly his betrothal to Wjera Zinsenburg was announced.
+
+His brother's creditors made wry faces; society laughed. Two months
+afterwards the strange couple were united in the chapel of the palace
+of the Zinsenburgs. Among those present at the ceremony there were some
+who envied the bridegroom, many who ridiculed him, and a few who pitied
+him.
+
+As the pair stood beside each other before the altar they presented a
+strange contrast.
+
+The face of the bride, nobly chiselled, and with an indignant curve of
+the full, red lips, recalled to the minds of all who had been in Rome a
+beautiful but unpleasing memory,--the profile of the Medusa in the
+Villa Ludovisi, that wondrous relievo in which the pride of a demon
+seems contending with the suffering of an angel.
+
+The bridegroom looked as he did fifteen years afterward on his bier,
+only more unhappy, for upon the bier his face wore the expression of a
+man who had just been relieved of an old burden; at the altar his
+expression was that of one who bends beneath the weight of a burden
+just assumed.
+
+It was shortly manifest that no late-awakened passion had decided him
+to contract this alliance. A weaker will had been forced to bow before
+a stronger.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+But what had induced the exquisitely-beautiful girl to choose such a
+husband as this, every one asked; and no one answered. The question had
+to be dismissed with a shrug, and, 'She is a riddle!'
+
+The same thing had been said four years previously, when with an air of
+proud indifference, and with cold, 'level-fronting eyelids,' she had
+appeared in Vienna society. There was about her an exotic air always
+irresistible to the genuine Austrian temperament. Her father was a
+diplomatist, her mother a Russian. Wjera's Russian blood betrayed
+itself in everything about her, in her deep, almost harsh voice, which
+was, nevertheless, capable of exquisite modulations, in the hybrid
+combination of Oriental nonchalance and northern energy that
+characterized her whole bearing, her gestures, her figure.
+
+When she reclined upon a divan or leaned back in an arm-chair there was
+a suggestion of the odalisque in her attitude; but in her walk there
+was a short, sharp rhythm; it was firm and despotic like that of a
+race-horse, and yet light as the fluttering of a bird. She was tall and
+not too slender--the beauty of her shoulders and bust was so great that
+it had become famous--her head was small and faultlessly poised upon
+her neck--her features were not perfectly regular, but how charming was
+her face! pale, with ripe red lips, and brown hair with a shimmer of
+gold about the temples and the back of the neck. The cheek-bones were
+rather too high, the face not quite oval enough; the brow was low; the
+profile haughty, and delicately modelled.
+
+The most remarkable feature of Wjera's face was her eyes. Long in their
+openings, but usually half-closed and shaded by dark eyelashes, they
+were as changing in colour as in expression, and there was in them
+something uncanny--mysterious--no one dared to look full into their
+depths.
+
+Of course she created a sensation in Vienna, and yet she had almost no
+suitors--they were afraid of her and--she had a history, neither
+disgraceful nor dishonourable, but yet a history.
+
+In St. Petersburg, where she had been with her father, she had been
+distinguished by the homage of a prince of the blood, and was finally
+betrothed to him. For a year the betrothal was kept up, and then the
+tie was suddenly snapped. The world discovered the reason in the fact
+that Wjera could not consent to a morganatic marriage; her ambition had
+been defeated. The true significance of the breach the world at large
+did not divine. Only very few suspected that Wjera had loved the
+man--so much her inferior in all save rank and birth--with all the
+fervour and poetic purity that are found in Russian girls alone. She
+did not see him as he really was, handsome, with a superficial air of
+distinction, but mentally coarse--alternating between brutish excesses
+and superstitious penances--at once cynical as a roue and sentimental
+as a school-miss,--no, she endowed him nobly in her imagination.
+
+Of all poets in the world the hearts of young girls are the most highly
+gifted. There are women whose illusions are so tough that they carry
+them to their graves undamaged; there are others who voluntarily patch
+up the rents, made by their understanding in their illusions, in order
+that an ideal--of which they would perhaps be ashamed if it stood
+unveiled before them, and to break with which they yet have neither the
+desire nor the force--may not be without a decent garment to cover it.
+
+It was not so with Wjera; when doubt had once sown discord between her
+head and her heart, she fought out the battle unflinchingly,
+inexorably, in strict honesty, and when the conflict was over her dream
+had vanished. In this wondrously lovely illusion she had exhausted all
+the ideality of her nature. Her reason gained the upperhand at last,
+and ever after she analyzed her fellow-mortals with sharp precision;
+judging them with harsh justice, and speaking of the affections with an
+unaffected, contemptuous coolness very rare in a girl so young.
+
+Time passed by. She came to be twenty-six years old. She was the eldest
+and the handsomest of five daughters, and her distaste for marriage
+increased the difficulty of providing for the other sisters, and
+excited unpleasant remark among her family circle. Chance introduced
+Count Lodrin to her acquaintance, and perhaps because he seemed to her
+a respectable nullity, she selected him for her husband.
+
+No one could remember ever having seen so ill-matched a pair. She,
+aglow with life, delighting in physical exercises, a reckless and
+indefatigable horsewoman--to whom a steeple-chase was no more than is a
+waltz to other women,--and he, paying with an attack of illness for
+every unusual physical effort, not even daring to take a long drive
+without an extra cushion at his back.
+
+Whilst his thoughts moved slowly in a traditional roundabout way, 'her
+woman's wit flew straight and did exactly hit,' before the Count had
+cleared his throat for his first 'consequently.'
+
+Her quick wit bewildered him; her outspoken acuteness of discernment
+offended him. There was a world-wide dissimilarity between her views
+and his. The Count was a strict Catholic; the Countess was inclined to
+scepticism; although cast in a loftier mould, in her daring mockery and
+her graceful eccentricity she recalled the fine ladies of the
+eighteenth century--of that time when social and mental freedom, made
+fashionable by philosophers, had not yet been degraded to vulgarity by
+demagogues. His wife's wicked wit shocked poor Count Lodrin. Much
+ridicule was cast upon the couple, but every one was none the less glad
+to belong to the brilliant circle which the Countess drew around her,
+and daily the wonder grew that calumny could not touch the beautiful
+wife of this dead-and-alive dotard.
+
+Three years passed; now and then women hinted innuendoes about Wjera
+Lodrin, but the other sex continued to speak of her with that mixture
+of admiration and irritation which bears the truest testimony to the
+blamelessness of a very beautiful woman. At last society was content to
+shrug its shoulders and to repeat, 'She is a riddle.'
+
+The Countess was unutterably bored. The only occupation that she
+pursued with inexhaustible interest, though at the same time with
+reckless intrepidity, was riding.
+
+"She has no sphere of activity; hers is the grand, fiery nature of a
+gifted man beating against the petty barriers of feminine existence.
+What is to come of it?" a sagacious student of human nature once said,
+in speaking of her.
+
+All at once there was a decided change for the worse in Count Lodrin's
+health, and the physicians prescribed a sojourn in the South.
+Reluctantly enough the Countess consented to accompany her husband.
+
+They set out, and the world maliciously compared Wjera to Juana of
+Castile, because she travelled with a corpse, and a father-confessor.
+
+The Count found Nice quite too gay, and therefore took refuge in a
+secluded villa in the Riviera.
+
+The Countess nearly died of ennui in the gray, sultry, sirocco-like
+monotony of an autumn heavy with the fragrance of roses, and in the
+tedium of an Italian winter. In spring the pair returned to Bohemia,
+the Count in somewhat better health, the Countess as cold and hard as
+ever, but irritable to a degree until now quite foreign to her.
+
+In the August after their return Oswald was born. The old Count could
+not contain himself for joy; the Countess cared but very little for the
+child.
+
+This was the woman whom Georges had known fifteen years before, and
+now,--he could hardly believe his senses!
+
+Before he went to bed on the first night of his return to Tornow, he
+stood for a long while at the window of his room looking thoughtfully
+out into the night. The moon was high in the heavens; everything was
+still, save for a low rustle now and then in the huge lindens growing
+on the border of the pond in front of the castle. The ancient trees
+seemed to stir and stretch themselves in their sleep. His gaze wandered
+over the compact angular architecture of the high, black-gabled roofs,
+the rows of houses with tiny windows, in the little town,--all bathed
+in bluish moonlight. It was hardly changed since he had last seen
+it,--in the castle everything was changed. What had become of the
+social distractions in which the Countess Lodrin had been wont to
+delight?--Vanished, as by magic. The entire castle impressed him as
+having recovered from a restless fever.
+
+Had the Countess's former cold, harsh demeanour been but the mask for
+the intense hunger of a strangely dowered nature that could find no fit
+nourishment? And had love for her child filled up at last the fearful
+rift made in her inmost life by an early disappointment?
+
+Georges asked himself these questions. Once more his glance wandered to
+the pond in whose waters the moon was mirrored. "Strange!" he
+murmured,--"today it was but a dark pool, and now in the moonlight it
+gleams a silver disk! Hm! Extraordinary, how true maternal love will
+hallow every woman's heart! Strange exceedingly! what must she not have
+suffered in her life ...!"
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+The bright spring sunshine streamed through the open bow-window of the
+Countess's boudoir and stretched a broad band of light at her feet. She
+was sitting in an arm-chair knitting with very thick wooden needles and
+coarse brown worsted, something evidently destined for a charitable
+purpose.
+
+The boudoir, an irregular square room and with a picturesque
+bow-window, was furnished with no regard to uniformity of style, and
+therefore had the charm which characterizes rooms which have been as it
+were gradually evolved from the habits and tastes of a cultured
+occupant, until they are the frame or setting of an individuality. A
+delightful confusion of comfort and feminine taste reigned here, and
+the two or three trifling articles that offended all artistic sense,
+struck the eye only as piquant beauty spots. The cabinets, filled with
+rare old porcelain, threw into strong relief the ugly inkstand and
+candlesticks of modern dark-blue Sevres upon a writing-table. They
+were a memento,--a marriage gift from a Russian cousin and youthful
+playmate who fell in the Crimean war. Among some old pictures, an
+Andrea del Sarto, a Franz Hals, and two Wateaus, hung in triumphant
+self-complacency a portrait by Lawrence--a man's head and bust,--a
+crimson-lined cloak was thrown around the shoulders, the shirt collar
+was open, black hair fell low on the brow, the eyes were large and
+wild, the frankly smiling mouth was exquisitely chiselled. It hung just
+over the writing-table, lord of all, and was the portrait of Oswald
+Zinsenburg, an uncle of the Countess, a gifted fellow, who, when
+Secretary of Legation in England, had been intimate with Lord Byron,
+and in all the romantic ardour of a young aristocrat fighting for
+freedom, had died of brain fever at Missolonghi at the age of
+twenty-seven, shortly after Lord Byron's death.
+
+This portrait the Countess Wjera loves, principally because it is so
+like her son, and upon it her gaze rested as she dropped the long
+wooden-needles in her lap, and fell into a revery.
+
+The air of the room was penetrated with the delicious fragrance of the
+roses, and lilies of the valley that filled the various vases.
+Everything was quiet,--the birds were taking their siesta, the faint
+pattering of the horse-chestnut blossoms could be heard as they fell
+upon the gravel path, before the castle.
+
+The drowsy midday stillness was suddenly broken by a softly whistled
+Russian gipsy melody and an elastic young footstep. The Countess turned
+her head. She knew the air well--how often she had sung it! The
+whistling came nearer, then ceased, and the door of the boudoir opened.
+"May we come in?" a cheery voice asked.
+
+"Always welcome!" replied the Countess, and Oswald, followed by a large
+shaggy Newfoundland, entered, his curls wet and clinging to his
+forehead, a bunch of waterlilies in his hand, and looking more than
+ever like the portrait by Lawrence.
+
+"Good morning, mamma; how are you? Make your bow, Darling--so, old
+fellow--so!" And as the Newfoundland gravely lowered his fine head, a
+performance for which he was duly caressed by his master, Oswald sank
+into a low seat beside his mother.
+
+"You have been bathing," she observed, stroking back his wet hair.
+
+"Yes, I have been swimming in the lake at Wolnitz, and I have brought
+you these waterlilies," he replied, laying the flowers in her lap,
+"they are the first I have seen this year, and they are your favourite
+flowers, are they not? How fair and melancholy they are! Strange that
+these pure white things should spring from such slimy mud! May I?"
+taking out his cigar-case.
+
+"Of course, my child. What have you been about to-day? I have not seen
+you before."
+
+"I went out very early. I had sent for the forester to come to me at
+seven, and I went with him to the new plantations. The young firs are
+as straight as soldiers. And then I dawdled about in the woods--it was
+so lovely there!--'tis the earth's honeymoon, and when I see everything
+blossoming out in the sunshine, I think of all that lies in the near
+future for me, and I feel like shouting for joy! Apropos, mamma, I have
+found a site for the Widow's Asylum that you want to found. I have been
+puzzling over the best situation for it, and I have decided to put the
+old Elizabeth monastery at the disposal of your benevolence. Is this
+what you would like?"
+
+She held out her hand to him with a smile. "Have you found time to
+think of that too? I thought you had forgotten my scheme long ago."
+
+"Ah yes, I am in the habit of forgetting your wishes!" he said gaily.
+
+"No, Heaven knows you are not," the Countess murmured, "you have always
+been loving and considerate to me."
+
+"And what else could I be, mamma?" he said affectionately. "Ah, on a
+glorious spring day like this, when the world is so beautiful, and my
+blood goes coursing in my veins with delight, I am tempted to kneel
+down before you and thank you for the dear life you have bestowed upon
+me--what is the matter, mamma, you have suddenly grown so pale?"
+
+"It is nothing--only a slight pain in my heart--it has gone already,"
+the Countess whispered, turning aside her head.
+
+"Quite gone?--is it my cigar smoke?"
+
+"Not at all, dear child!"--
+
+In spite of this assertion he tossed his cigar out of the window. "You
+used to smoke yourself," he observed.
+
+"Yes," she said, looking down at her knitting, "but since I have
+learned to employ my hands, I have given up smoking."
+
+"You knit instead--It seems odd to me to see _you_ knitting. Georges
+thinks you very much altered."
+
+"I have grown old, _voila!_"
+
+"And he thinks too that you spoil me tremendously, that no mother in
+all Austria spoils her son as you do me."
+
+"No other mother has such a son," the Countess said proudly.
+
+"Oh, oh!" he laughed and took his seat beside her again.
+
+"Nevertheless, I am not blind to your faults," she continued, "I know
+them all."
+
+"And love every one of them."
+
+"Because they are the faults of a noble nature--men of lower tendencies
+are obliged to show more self-control."
+
+"Indeed! God bless your aristocratic prejudices! and now for a piece of
+news. The Truyns reach Rautschin to-morrow by the four o'clock train.
+Will you drive with me to meet them?"
+
+"Certainly, if you wish me to."
+
+"If I wish you to--if I wish you to!"--he softly snapped his fingers,
+"and you look all the while as if I had asked you to attend an
+execution with me. I cannot quite understand you, mamma, you used to
+take delight in every little pleasure that chance threw in my way, and
+now will you not rejoice in my great happiness? As soon as there is any
+allusion made to my betrothal, your whole manner changes; you grow so
+distant and reserved, that I hardly like to mention my betrothed."
+
+"I really did not know, Ossi ..." began the Countess with constraint.
+
+"Oh, yes, mother, I felt in Paris that you were not pleased with my
+betrothal, and I have racked my brain to discover what there can be
+about it that you do not like, and I can not imagine what it is. There
+can be no objection to make to Gabrielle." Then suddenly smiling in the
+midst of his irritation, and curbing the impetuous flow of his words,
+he asked in a lower tone and more calmly, "Ah, _ca_, mamma, perhaps you
+dislike the connection with my darling's stepmother? I assure you
+that ...."
+
+"Nonsense!" replied the Countess, growing still more disturbed, "from
+what you and Georges both tell me of the young woman, she seems to
+adapt herself very well to her position. A residence abroad and foreign
+associations are much better means of training than ...."
+
+"Yes, mamma," interrupted Oswald in some surprise, having followed out
+his own train of thought, "but if you are so kindly disposed towards
+Zinka, I cannot possibly conceive what exception you can take to my
+betrothal. There never was a purer, more noble creature than my little
+Gabrielle. Highly as I rank you, mother, she is every way worthy of
+you."
+
+The Countess changed colour, "I do not understand what you wish," she
+exclaimed, "do not distress me, I have no objection to the girl!...."
+
+"Well then,--you could not possibly expect me to remain unmarried."
+
+The Countess cast down her eyes and was silent.
+
+Oswald sprang up, called his dog and left the room, his face very pale,
+his eyes very dark.
+
+Impetuous and hasty as he was with others, he had always controlled
+himself in his mother's presence. Leaving the room was the extreme
+point to which he allowed his displeasure to manifest itself when with
+her. If he wished to vent his anger, he did it in seclusion, he never
+had spoken an angry word--scarcely a loud one to her. And his
+disagreeable mood never lasted long.
+
+"I am myself again, mamma!" with these words, in which he was wont to
+announce his return to a better frame of mind, he presented himself
+half an hour afterward in his mother's boudoir. She was sitting just as
+he had left her, the waterlilies in her lap, very pale, very erect,
+with the set features that veil distress of mind.
+
+Pushing his chair close up to her he laid his hand upon her shoulder,
+and said with the winning tenderness of all impetuous men after bursts
+of anger: "Forgive me, mamma, I was very wrong again!" She smiled
+faintly and murmured some half inaudible words of affection--"I was
+odiously egotistical," he went on, "I had quite forgotten what a change
+my marriage will make in your life, what a trial it must be to you, you
+poor, foolish, jealous little mother! But whatever change there may be
+outwardly in our relations, we must always be the same in heart; and if
+I must deprive you of something," he added gaily, "my children shall
+requite you. It had to come sooner or later, mamma; or could you really
+wish me to renounce the fairest share of existence?"
+
+She trembled in every limb, and suddenly taking his hand, before he
+could prevent it, she carried it to her lips, "No, you shall renounce
+no joy, my child, my noble child!" she exclaimed,--"but--leave me now
+for a while, for only a little while--I am tired!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+Truyn had insisted that the betrothal of his daughter to Oswald Lodrin
+should be celebrated in Bohemia. Zinka had yielded with great
+reluctance and sorrow, and had at last resolved to bid farewell to her
+dear foreign home.
+
+"Why," she persisted in asking him, "cannot the ceremony take place, as
+in our own case, at the Austrian Embassy?"
+
+But Truyn would not hear of it. "Dear heart," he replied, "it would go
+against the grain. The betrothals of all my sisters and of my aunts
+were celebrated at Rautschin, why should I depart from the traditions
+of my family?"
+
+"As if you had not already departed from them, and in the most vital
+regard," said Zinka, with arch tenderness.
+
+"That is a very different thing,--if there were any good reason,
+then--then--!"
+
+"Ah, dear friend, you have grown insufferably conservative, you would
+have shouted on the first day of the creation of the world: '_Conserves
+le chaos, seigneur Dieu, conservez le chaos!_'"
+
+Whereupon Truyn, kissing her hand, made reply. "That comes of living in
+France, dear child."
+
+And so the pretty house in the Avenue Labedoyere was deserted. The
+shutters were closed, the carpets rolled up, the bric-a-brac stowed
+away; only in some roundabout fashion did a bluish beam of light slip
+into the vault-like obscurity, and the restless motes pursue their
+fantastic dance among the shrouded shapes of the furniture.
+
+The Truyn family were rapidly approaching their home. Nearly thirty
+hours had passed since Paris had faded from their eyes in the misty
+blue distance--since the last gigantic announcement of the '_Belle
+Jardiniere_,' and of the '_Pauvre diable_' had flitted past them. The
+Bavarian boundary, with its stupid Custom House formalities lay behind
+them. Truyn was reading a Vienna newspaper with great interest,
+Gabrielle was gazing abstractedly at the crimson coupe cushions
+opposite, with the far-away look in her eyes of young lovers. Zinka was
+leaning back in her corner, her veil half drawn aside, her hands folded
+in her lap, the latest impressions of her Paris life hovering
+kaleidiscopically before her mental vision, her heart oppressed by a
+strange melancholy.
+
+"Ah, this defamed, delightful Paris! how it captivates the heart with
+its good-for-nothing beauty, and its corrupt, sickly sentiment!"
+
+She was still mentally rehearsing the last days before her departure,
+the going to and fro from shop to shop, the interesting consultations
+with Monsieur Worth, the affected face with which that eminent artist
+put his finger to his lip, while attending the ladies to their
+carriage, and continued to 'compose' Gabrielle's wedding dress,
+murmuring to himself with his English accent: "_Oui, oui, une
+orginalite distahnguee c'est ce qu'il fant_," while sleek young clerks,
+and young girls faultless in figure, displayed to the best advantage
+the richest costumes, trailing about silks and satins of fabulous
+elegance.
+
+"_Ce n'est pas cela, qui ferait votre affaire, Madame la Comtesse je le
+sais bien_," said Mons. Worth pointing to certain monstrosities devised
+for American parvenus, "ah, Madame la Comtesse cannot imagine, how hard
+it is for an artist to have to work for people of no taste! _Ah oui,
+une originalite distahnguee!_"
+
+The man-milliner's, monotonous refrain kept sounding on in Zinka's
+ears. Then she thought of the farewell visits, the daily heap of cards
+filling the great copper salver in the vestibule, the wearisome
+farewell entertainments, and of her husband's toast--the toast which he
+proposed at the magnificent banquet, given in his honour, by the
+Austrian Hungarians in Paris. Unutterably distasteful as it always is
+to men of his stamp, to be conspicuous, he at last made up his mind to
+propose this toast; he worked at it for an entire week, and subjected
+it to the criticism, not only of his wife and of his daughter, but of
+every one whose judgment he respected in Paris. It was a masterpiece of
+a toast, a toast designed to unite in brotherly affection all the
+Austrians in Paris, and which ultimately, with its well-meant,
+many-sided compliments gave occasion for dissatisfaction to every
+member of the Austrian-Hungarian colony, whether conservative or
+liberal. Zinka laughed to herself as she recalled that poor
+misunderstood toast. She laughed outright, started, and--awoke--rubbed
+her eyes and looked out.
+
+Yes, Paris lay far behind her, very far. She was in Austria, beautiful,
+dreamingly-drowsy Austria, and, in spite of the reluctance with which
+she returned to her fatherland, it affected her.
+
+A low blue chain of hills lay on the western horizon like a vanishing
+storm-cloud. The landscape around was level and extended. Large, quiet
+pools, surrounded by tall rushes, and covered with a network of
+fragrant waterlilies, gleamed here and there among the emerald meadows.
+
+The sun was near its setting. The shadows of the telegraph poles
+stretched out indefinitely. Little towns contentedly sleeping away
+their dull lives among green lindens, showed their old-fashioned
+silhouettes, black against the sunlit evening clouds.
+
+Truyn laid aside his newspaper, and his face grew eager and animated,
+every knotted gnarled willow, every half-ruinous garden wall here
+interested him.
+
+A forest of firs, their trunks glowing red in the last rays of the sun,
+bordered the railway. "There, just by that stunted fir, I shot my first
+deer," Truyn exclaimed, and in his eyes sparkled the memory of a happy
+boyhood; then, drawing Zinka to him, he whispered tenderly: "You are at
+home, Zini; we are travelling upon our own soil."
+
+"Ah," replied Zinka, nestling close to him, timid as a child afraid of
+ghosts.
+
+"How nervous you are!" he said, gently stroking her cheek--"you silly
+little goose you!"
+
+"It is not for myself," she whispered, "so long as you love me, you and
+Ella, I can bear anything. But I know you--it would grieve you to the
+very heart, if ...."
+
+"Tickets, if you please!"
+
+A breathless panting--a shrill whistle.
+
+"Rautschin--five minutes stay!"
+
+"Aunt Wjera!" Gabrielle exclaimed, joyously hurrying out of the coupe.
+
+There was something like defiance in Zinka's heart, but when she saw
+the woman, who in all her exquisite beauty, all the distinguished grace
+of manner inspired by kindness and cordiality, advanced to meet them,
+her defiant mood vanished in admiration, and with a feeling of almost
+childlike reverence, she bowed to the superiority of the elder lady,
+who greeted her most cordially.
+
+After the first excitement of meeting was over, Countess Wjera's
+attention was naturally concentrated upon her son's betrothed.
+
+"I can but congratulate you from my heart, Ossi," she said earnestly,
+looking full into the young girl's eyes--eyes that shone like two blue
+violets under the clearest skies--violets that had suffered nothing
+from late frosts or too ardent sunshine. "You are a favourite of
+fortune, my child."
+
+Gabrielle blushed, and buried her face in the bunch of white roses,
+which Oswald had brought her; and Oswald was touched, and smiled his
+thanks to his mother, as he whispered a tender word to his betrothed.
+
+"Do you know who came in the same train with us?" Truyn suddenly asked,
+interrupting the happy moment.
+
+"Capriani, father and son, I saw them," said Oswald, "look at him,
+mamma, there is my rival, the enterprising young spark, who sued for
+Gabrielle's hand. A mad idea, was it not? Gabrielle, and a son of
+Capriani!--we shouted with laughter, when the Melkweyser announced the
+proposal."
+
+The flurry of the arrival had subsided, and the Countess leisurely
+inspected through her eyeglass the sallow young man who was talking
+with Georges Lodrin. Gabrielle said something about his dark blue
+travelling-suit, shot with gold; Zinka made inquiries, all in a breath,
+of her husband, and of the two lady's-maids, whether this or that
+article of luggage had not been left in Paris or in the railway coupe.
+
+When at last all her anxieties on this point had been relieved, and
+they had passed through the station to the carriages, they observed a
+magnificent four-in-hand, the harness decorated with a coronet.
+
+"By Jove!" Truyn exclaimed with delight, "superb, Ossi, superb! I have
+rarely seen four such beauties together!"
+
+"Nor have I," said Oswald, examining the horses critically,
+"unfortunately they are not mine--they belong to Capriani."
+
+"Impossible!" Truyn said disdainfully, "speculator that he is, he may
+bore through the isthmus of Panama, for all I care, but he cannot get
+together such a four-in-hand as that."
+
+"Fritz Malzin selected and arranged it for him," Oswald explained.
+"Poor Fritz!"
+
+"I cannot understand him," Truyn said in an undertone, and hastily
+changing the subject, he asked: "Have you come to terms with Capriani,
+about the Kanitz affair, Ossi? Could not the sale be revoked?"
+
+"The matter would have been very difficult to adjust, I am told--of
+course I understand nothing of such things,--" replied Oswald, "but
+Capriani--what will you say to this, uncle?--yielded the point, 'out of
+special regard' for me, as his lawyer informed Dr. Schindler. Between
+ourselves, it was--what word shall I use?--audacious, for I have never
+spoken to him in my life, and yet I had to accept his uncalled-for
+courtesy, for Schmitt's sake."
+
+"Remarkable, very!" said Truyn, "We usually have to pay dear for the
+courtesies of a Capriani and his kind!"
+
+"Have you everything, Ella?" asked Zinka, "shall we start?"
+
+"I should like to have my hand-bag, Hortense has left it with the large
+luggage."
+
+Meanwhile, with an unpleasant smile and hat in hand, a sallow-faced,
+grey-haired, elderly man, with the look of a bird of prey, approached
+the Countess Wjera, and held out his right hand. "I am immensely
+gratified, your Excellency, after so long a time ....!"
+
+The Countess, her eyes half closed, measured him haughtily. "With whom
+have I the pleasure ...?"
+
+"Conte Capriani."
+
+The Countess silently shrugged her shoulders, and turning half away,
+called in an irritated tone, "Are we ready to go at last, Ossi?...."
+
+A whirling cloud of dust was soon the only trace left of the bustle of
+the arrival.
+
+The short drive was spent by Truyn in reminiscences, by the betrothed
+pair in sentiment.
+
+At the tea, which was awaiting the travellers, and of which the
+Lodrin's stayed to partake, there was much laughter over the _chic_ of
+the Caprianis, over their wealth, and--their obtrusiveness. Oswald
+suddenly grew thoughtful.
+
+"Did you ever before meet these people, mamma?" he asked.
+
+"I never knew any Conte Capriani in my life,--who are these Caprianis?"
+asked the Countess.
+
+"Nobody knows," said Oswald. "Some say he is a Greek, some that he
+comes from Marseilles, and others that he is a Turk."
+
+"They are all wrong," Georges said drily, "he comes originally from
+Bohemia; he was formerly a physician, and his name was Stein."
+
+
+
+
+
+                              BOOK SECOND.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+Rautschin, still Rautschin!--the tiny town lying at the feet of the
+huge castle on the tower of which the clock has stopped for twenty
+years--but no longer in pouring rain with thunder and lightning, but
+Rautschin beneath skies of sapphire blue, upon a hot July afternoon.
+
+The sun was still high in the heavens. The crooked little row of houses
+on one side of the Market Square, cast short, black shadows, the
+national red kerchiefs, with broad borders of gay flowers hanging at
+the door of the principal shop, fluttered gently in the summer breeze.
+A melancholy hubbub of discords, struggling in vain for a solution, was
+heard through the open window of one of the newest and ugliest houses.
+Eugene Alexander Cibulka, and the wife of the district commissioner,
+were playing Wagner's 'Walkuere,' arranged for four hands, and each had
+again 'lost the place.' They regularly lose the place every time a leaf
+is turned, and so the one who gets first to the bottom of the page,
+very kindly waits for the other.
+
+Rautschin Castle stands proudly superior to every structure about it,
+ensconced behind all kinds of farm-buildings and additions, at the
+extreme end of the Market Square, to which it turns its shoulder, as it
+were. Except for its imposing dimensions, it is in no wise remarkable.
+
+Standing at the entrance of a very extensive park, it dates from the
+time of Maria Theresa, when the present clumsy edifice, its prim facade
+defaced by grass-green shutters, was built upon the remains of a feudal
+fortress. The court-yard is not perfectly square, and the arches of the
+arcade rest upon granite pillars. Its interior is quite in accordance
+with its exterior; it is anything but splendid, and has an air of
+empty, dignified distinction.
+
+Before the western side of the Castle, Count Truyn with his young wife
+was sitting beneath the shade of a red and gray striped marquee; behind
+them in a garden-room, the glass doors of which were wide open, Oswald,
+standing on a step-ladder, was busy hanging on the wall a piece of
+gold-embroidered Oriental stuff, and Gabrielle was handing him the
+nails.
+
+"Well Zini, are you beginning to like our home?" said Truyn, propping
+his elbows upon the white garden table, between himself and his wife.
+He looked so contented, so proud of his possessions, so triumphant,
+that Zinka could not refrain from teasing him a little.
+
+"Taken all in all, yes," she said indifferently, "but then taken all in
+all, I should like Siberia, with you and Ella."
+
+"Zinka! I must confess,"--Truyn's face assumed a disturbed and almost
+offended expression, "I must say that I cannot understand how any one
+can compare Rautschin to a place of exile!"
+
+"I did not mean to do so, rest assured," Zinka said, "I think your
+Rautschin very delightful, I should only like to alter a few details."
+
+"I cannot abide improvements," growled Truyn, "it is only the Caprianis
+and Company, who must always be beautifying everything old--that is
+destroying it. I think an old place should be left as it is, with all
+its characteristic defects--to try to improve them, seems to me like
+trying to correct the drawing of a Giotto or a Cimabue."
+
+"I can understand a respect for the old mis-drawings," Zinka rejoined
+quietly, "but does one owe the same respect to modern retouching, to
+the vandalism that has made clumsy additions to an old picture?"
+
+"Hm!" Truyn gazed thoughtfully around him--"no, in fact. It is
+remarkable that you are always right, you little witch. Now be frank
+Zini; what exactly would you like to have different? So far as my
+veneration and my finances permit, you shall have your will."
+
+Zinka pointed to the lawn that lay before them, terribly disfigured by
+bright red and yellow arabesques. "I think that confectioner's
+ornamentation there almost as ugly as the carpet-gardening at the Villa
+Albani," she said, "don't you?"
+
+Truyn ran his hands through his hair, "Well, yes,"--he meekly admitted
+after a pause, "but I cannot possibly alter that. Old Kraus, to
+surprise me, has taken infinite pains to portray our crest on the
+lawn--I had to praise him for his brilliant idea, however hideous I
+thought the thing, don't you see, Zini?"
+
+"That alters the case entirely," Zinka admitted. "I would not hurt
+faithful old Kraus for the world. But"--she pointed to the basin of a
+fountain, the shape of which was particularly ugly--"old Kraus could
+not have designed that basin--that might be cleared away!"
+
+Truyn looked thoroughly discomfited. "The basin is a horror," he
+confessed, "but I cannot help saying a good word for it. It is endeared
+to me by youthful associations--if only because when I was a boy of
+twelve, I was very nearly drowned in it."
+
+"Oh then indeed ...." Zinka shrugged her shoulders, with a humourous air
+of resignation. "I now hardly dare to object to the green shutters,"
+she went on, "for if, as in view of their colour is highly probable, they
+gave you opthalmia, some thirty years ago--it would ...."
+
+"No, no, no, I give up the shutters," exclaimed Truyn laughing, "let
+them go. And now I have something to tell you that you will not
+relish--no need to change colour, the matter is an inconvenience, not a
+trial. While I have been away--for the last ten years in fact--the park
+has been open to the public. The little town has no other public
+garden. I have, indeed, in view of this, placed an extensive tract of
+land at the disposal of the town Council, but it is not yet laid out,
+and until it is, I should not like entirely to deprive the public of
+the freedom of the Park. Therefore I should like to have you point out
+as soon as possible what part you would prefer to have reserved
+entirely for yourself, that it may be portioned off. Indeed I cannot
+help it, Zini."
+
+"You will be as condescending at last as a crowned head," Zinka said
+laughing. "You have already relinquished a corner of the park, because
+the new road, laid out for the convenience of the public, must run
+directly beneath your windows--and ..."
+
+"I know--I know," Truyn interrupted her impatiently, "but one owes
+something to the people. Of course you think 'my husband is a perfect
+simpleton, he'll put up with anything'--but ...."
+
+"Have you really no better idea of what I think of my husband, than
+that?" Zinka asked in a low tone, looking at him with tender raillery
+in her eyes.
+
+"Oh you sweet-natured little woman!" he said, attempting to chuck her
+under the chin.
+
+"What are you about?" she exclaimed, thrusting his hand away, "this
+wall here on the street is so low, that every little ragamuffin can see
+us. And let me tell you that this wall has seemed more odious than
+anything else to-day. Between ourselves--move your chair a little
+nearer, Erich--I have been all this while tormented by a desire to
+throw myself into your arms--you dear, good, whimsical fellow--but the
+wall!"
+
+"Confound the wall!" Truyn exclaimed, angrily clinching his fist.
+
+"Tell me," Zinka asked caressingly, "is the lowness of the wall also a
+question of humanity? Do you find it impossible to deny the townsfolk
+the satisfaction of conveniently observing the castle-folk?"
+
+"Pshaw! I was vexed about the height of the wall ten years ago--that is
+when the road was laid out, but--well, I cannot myself say why it
+is--but unless we have a rage for building, nothing is done. We
+complain for ten years about the same evil, and ..."
+
+"And to part with an evil about which one has complained for ten long
+years," interrupted Zinka laughing, "would be almost as distressing as
+to clear away the basin of a fountain, in which one had been nearly
+drowned, thirty years before, eh, Erich?"
+
+The broad July sunshine lay upon the red and yellow splendour of the
+Truyn escutcheon, shimmered brilliantly about the foremost of the
+mighty trees, whose dark foliage contrasted with the emerald of the
+lawn where they stood, beyond the open, flower-decked portion of the
+park, and penetrated boldly into their thick shades, limning fanciful
+arabesques of light upon the darker green.
+
+From the garden-room floated Gabrielle's sweet, childlike voice, "_Io
+so una giardiniera_," she sang. Oswald had finished his upholstering,
+and was bending over the piano. He combined a sincere enjoyment of
+music with a deplorable preference for sentimental popular ballads.
+
+The creaking of wheels intruded upon the dreamy monotony of the hour.
+Truyn leaned forward and started to his feet. "Ah, old Swoboda, the
+doctor who attended Ella with the measles," he exclaimed joyfully,
+recognising Dr. Swoboda, in his comical little vehicle drawn by a white
+horse spotted with brown. "Is he still alive? I must call him in.
+Holla! Doctor, how are you?"
+
+The doctor started, looked round, and took off his hat with a smile of
+delight, "your servant, Count Truyn."
+
+"Come in and have a chat," said Truyn, "it was hardly fair not to have
+been to see us before."
+
+"But, my dear Count, how could I suppose ..."
+
+A few minutes later, the old doctor was seated opposite to Truyn,
+underneath the marquee, imparting to the Count exact information as to
+the weal and woe of a multitude of people belonging to the town, and to
+the country round, whom the proprietor of Rautschin remembered with
+wonderful distinctness.
+
+Some had died, one or two were insane--a couple were bankrupt.
+
+"Infernal swindling speculations! is my dear old Rautschin beginning to
+be carried away by them?" said Truyn, "certain epidemics cannot be
+arrested. Sad--very sad! And now the _phylloxera_ has taken up its
+abode in Schneeburg."
+
+"Is there much illness about here?" Zinka asked the doctor, in hopes
+perhaps of staving off a conservative outburst from her husband.
+
+"None of any consequence. My business is at a low ebb, your
+Excellency."
+
+"Where have you just been, doctor?" Truyn asked.
+
+"I have just come from Schneeburg."
+
+"Ah? anything seriously amiss in the Capriani household?--I could not
+shed a tear for King Midas."
+
+"The Herr Count cannot suppose that those magnificoes would call in a
+poor country doctor, like myself."
+
+"My dear Swoboda, we all have the greatest confidence in you!" Truyn
+said kindly.
+
+"I thank you heartily, Herr Count, but this confidence is an old
+custom, and the Caprianis consider old customs as mere prejudices, and
+propose to do away with them. I have just come from our poor Count
+Fritz."
+
+"Indeed? are the children ill?"
+
+"No, not ill, but ailing; there is something or other the matter with
+them all the time--they are city children;--however, I am not really
+anxious about them, they'll come all right. But I am sick at heart for
+poor Count Fritz, he is far from well."
+
+"Ah, indeed? what is the matter with him?" Truyn asked in a tone of
+evident irritation.
+
+"His unfortunate circumstances are killing him," the doctor replied
+gloomily.
+
+"Ah--hm,--I must confess to you--er--my dear doctor,
+that--er--I take it very ill of Fritz, that he, er--accepted
+a position,--er--with--that,--er--adventurer."
+
+The old doctor looked the irritated gentleman full in the eyes. "When
+one is homesick and sees his children, who cannot bear the city air,
+hungering for bread, one will do many things, which could not be
+contemplated for an instant, under even slightly improved
+circumstances."
+
+"Ossi always told you ...." began Zinka.
+
+"Oh pshaw! Ossi is an enthusiast, whose heart is always drowning out
+his head."
+
+The old doctor sighed. "Well, I will intrude no longer," he said. He
+had often enough seen his noble patients yawn, as the door was closing
+upon him after a prolonged visit.
+
+"Not at all,--not at all--wait a moment; I must call the children;
+Gabrielle! Ossi!"
+
+The young people appeared from the garden-room.
+
+"Ah--it is the friend who saved my life," Gabrielle exclaimed,
+cordially extending her hand.
+
+Oswald too greeted him kindly, but suddenly he, as well as the old
+physician became slightly embarrassed--each remembered the unpleasant
+scene in the inn.--The conversation did not flow very freely.
+
+"Now, I really must go," the doctor insisted in some confusion.
+
+"Come soon again," said Truyn, shaking hands with him, "give my
+remembrance to Fritz, and--er--tell him to come and see me soon." He
+walked towards the court-yard with the old man, and when he returned he
+observed that Oswald, as he was silently rolling up a cigarette, was
+frowning furiously, evidently angry.
+
+"Where does the shoe pinch, Ossi?" he asked.
+
+"I cannot understand, uncle, how you can be so hard upon Fritz!"
+exclaimed Oswald throwing away his cigarette. "You are wont to be the
+softest-hearted of men, but to that poor devil ...."
+
+"Don't excite yourself so terribly," Truyn said kindly, but in some
+surprise at the young man's violence. How could he divine the
+disturbance of mind that was at the root of his indignation? "You are
+so irritable ...."
+
+"I am perfectly calm," Oswald boldly asserted, "only .... how could you
+send messages to Fritz by the doctor, and ask him to come to you? Have
+you no idea of his miserably sore state of mind?--and physically too he
+is so wretched that he cannot last six months longer; I have begged you
+to go and see him."
+
+"Papa! If Ossi begs you!" Gabrielle whispered, looking up at her father
+with the large pleading eyes of a child.
+
+"Ah, you can't understand how any one can possibly refuse Ossi
+anything," Truyn said, smiling in the midst of his annoyance.
+
+She blushed and cast down her eyes.
+
+"What can you find to like in this fellow, Ella?" her father rallied
+her. "A man ready to take fire, and clinch his fist upon the smallest
+provocation. What would you say if I should put my veto upon this
+foolish betrothal with a young savage who is only half-responsible?"
+
+Gabrielle's blush grew deeper, she looked alternately at her father and
+at her lover, and finally deciding in favour of the latter gently laid
+her hand upon his arm.
+
+"You see, uncle!.... completely routed," exclaimed Oswald, his anger
+entirely dispelled by this little intermezzo. His voice rang with
+exultant happiness as he added, "nothing can part us now, Ella--not
+even a father's veto!"
+
+And Ella clung silently to his arm and looked blissfully content.
+
+"Poor little comrade!" said Truyn tenderly. Mingled with his emotion
+there was something of the pity which men of ripe years and experience
+always feel at the sight of the perfect happiness of young lovers.
+
+"Poor little comrade!--well, to win back some share of your favour I
+will e'en put a good face upon it and comply with the wishes of your
+tyrant."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+"How can a respectable household put up with such a servant!" thought
+Truyn, as he waited in the hall of the little Swiss cottage which stood
+between the park at Schneeburg and the vegetable garden, and had been
+appropriated to the son of the late owner of the soil. A slatternly
+woman with a loose linen wrapper hanging about her stout figure had
+come towards him, and after an affirmative reply to his inquiry if the
+Count were at home, screamed shrilly: "Malzin! Some one to see you!"
+and vanished in the interior of the house.
+
+An unpleasant suspicion assailed Truyn. "Can that be...." The next
+moment all else was forgotten in distress at the changed appearance of
+a fair, pale young man who rushed up to him exclaiming: "Erich!--you
+here!"
+
+"Fritz, Fritz!" said Truyn in a broken voice, fairly clasping his
+unfortunate cousin in his arms.
+
+Of all mortals he who has voluntarily resigned the position in which he
+was born is the most embarrassing to deal with. He has by degrees
+broken with his fellows, and, almost like an outcast, seems scarcely to
+know how to comport himself when accident throws him among his former
+associates; when he meets one of 'his people' he usually alternates
+between intrusive familiarity and embittered reserve.
+
+There was nothing of all this, however, about Fritz. He was so simple
+and cordial, that Truyn felt ashamed of having avoided a meeting.
+
+Fair, with delicate, slightly pinched features, and large melancholy
+gray eyes, exquisitely neat and exact in his apparel, he looked from
+head to foot like a cavalry officer in citizen's dress, and in poor
+circumstances, that is like a man who knew how to invest with a certain
+distinction even the shabbiness to which fate condemned him.
+
+"You cannot imagine what pleasure your visit gives me! When I see one
+of you it really seems almost as if one of my dear ones had descended
+from heaven to press my hand," he said with emotion and Truyn replied:
+
+"I should have come before, but I expected certainly that
+you .... that ...."
+
+"That I ...." Fritz smiled significantly, "no, Erich, you could
+hardly ...."
+
+"Well, well, and how are you? How are you?" said Truyn quickly.
+
+"I still live," Fritz replied, and looked away.
+
+Just then a voice was heard outside inquiring for "Count Malzin."
+
+"I am not at home, Lotti, do you hear, not at home to any body," Malzin
+called into the next room. "Come, Erich!" and he conducted his guest
+out of what answered as a drawing-room into a very shabbily-furnished
+apartment which he called his 'den,' and where Truyn at once felt quite
+at home.
+
+"That was young Capriani," Fritz explained hurriedly, "he probably came
+to talk with me about the burial vault. Perhaps you know that my late
+father had the vault reserved for us in the contract for the sale of
+Schneeburg. Capriani, whom usually nothing escapes, oddly enough
+overlooked the fact that the vault is in the park, and now he wants me
+to sell it to him. Let him try it--the vault he shall not have--it is
+the last spot of home that is left to me. I choose at least to lie in
+the grave with my people! But let us talk of something pleasanter. You
+are all well, are you not?--but there is no need to ask, I can see it
+by looking at you. And I know all about your domestic affairs from
+Ossi."
+
+"He comes to see you often?"
+
+"Yes," said Fritz, "and every time with a fresh scheme for my complete
+relief from all difficulties, which he always unfolds with the same
+fervid enthusiasm. The schemes are impracticable, but never mind!
+Existence always seems more tolerable to me while I am talking with
+him, and when he has gone, it is as if a soft spring shower had just
+passed over, purifying and freshening the air. There really is
+something very remarkable about the fellow. With all his fiery energy,
+he is so unutterably tender; ordinarily when a man situated as I am
+comes in contact with such a favorite of fortune, he inevitably feels
+annoyed--it is like a glare of light for weak eyes. But there is
+nothing of the kind with him--he warms without dazzling,--he
+understands how to stoop to misery, without condescending to it."
+
+"Yes, yes, he has his good qualities," Truyn grumbled, "very good
+qualities. But he has stolen from me my little comrade's heart, and I
+cannot say I am greatly pleased."
+
+"You do not expect me to pity you on the score of your future
+son-in-law?" said Fritz, laughing.
+
+"Not exactly--if I must have one, then ...."
+
+"Then thank God that just these young people have come together," Fritz
+said in that tone of admonition, which even young men, when forsaken of
+fortune, sometimes adopt towards their happier seniors. "Do you know
+what he has done for me--among other things--just a trifle?"
+
+"How should I? He certainly would never tell me."
+
+"Of course not! We had not seen each other for years, but he came to
+see me as soon as he knew that I was at Schneeburg, and asked me if he
+could do anything for me. I thought it kind, but did not take his words
+seriously and so thanked him and assured him he could do nothing. He
+came again, bringing presents for the children with kind messages from
+his mother, and asked me to dinner. When we retired to the smoking-room
+after that dinner he said to me with the embarrassed manner of a
+generous man, about to confer a benefit: 'Fritz, tell me frankly; does
+no old debt annoy you?' Of course, at first I did not want to confess,
+but at last I admitted that a couple of unliquidated accounts did
+trouble me. An unstained name is a luxury that is the hardest of all to
+forego. He arranged everything, and now I am perfectly free from debt.
+He has such a charming way of giving, as if it were the merest pastime.
+I once asked him how a man as happy as he, found so much time to think
+for others? He answered that happiness was like a rose-bush, the more
+blossoms one gives away, the more it flourishes!"
+
+"Yes, yes, he certainly is a fine fellow.--We quarrel sometimes, but he
+is a very fine fellow!" said Truyn, "he suits the child--you must know
+her. And what about your children? Ossi says they are very pretty--you
+have three, have you not?"
+
+"No, only two," Fritz replied, and his voice trembled as he took a
+little photograph from the wall--"only two; my eldest died. Look at
+him--" handing the picture to Truyn, "he was a pretty child, was he
+not?--my poor little Siegi--but too lovely, too good for the life that
+had fallen to his lot. He is better dead--better!" he uttered in the
+hard tone in which the reason asserts what the heart denies.
+
+From the park the vague, dreamy fragrance of the fading white rocket
+was wafted into the room. The light flickered dimly through the leafy
+screen of the apricot tree before the open window that looked out upon
+the vegetable garden. On Fritz's writing-table the old Empire clock,
+wheezing in its struggle for breath, struck five times. Truyn knew the
+old timepiece well, but formerly it used to swing its pendulum as
+merrily on into eternity as if it expected a fresh delight every hour.
+It seemed as if by this time it had almost lost its voice from grief,
+so asthmatic was the sob with which it counted the seconds. And not
+only with the clock, with everything around him Truyn was familiar. The
+entire shabby apartment betrayed a fanatical worship of the past. The
+chairs were the same monstrosities with lyre-shaped backs and crooked
+legs, which had been wont to endure the angry kicks of the little
+Malzins, when their tutor kept them too long at their lessons. Even the
+pattern of the wall-paper, with its apocryphal birds and butterflies
+among impossible wreaths of flowers, was the same which a travelling
+house-painter had pasted up there thirty years before.
+
+But what most struck Truyn, was the decoration on one of the low doors
+in the thick wall--it was marked all over with lines in pencil and
+scribbled names. Upon that door the young Malzins used to record their
+growth from year to year.
+
+"Pipsi, 14," he read, "and something over," "Erich,"--he smiled
+involuntarily, and read on,--"Oscar 12," and then far below in
+uncertain characters looking as if an elder sister had guided the hand
+of a very little child, "Fritzl."
+
+And through Truyn's memory there sounded the crumpling of copy-book
+leaves--of childrens' voices, of Cramer's Exercises, and of sleepily
+recited Latin verbs. Yes, even the peculiar fragrance of lavender and
+fresh linen, formerly exhaled from the light chintz gown of his pretty
+cousin, came wafting to him over the past.
+
+"This is your old school-room!" he exclaimed.
+
+"Of course it is," said Fritz, "can you guess whom I have to thank for
+keeping it intact?"
+
+"The avarice of your principal?"
+
+"No, the delicacy of his wife. Before I moved in here she said to me,
+'my husband wished to have the house put in order for you, Herr Count,
+but I thought that perhaps you liked old associations, and I therefore
+beg you to make only what changes you think best.'"
+
+"A good woman!" Truyn murmured.
+
+Just then an extraordinary figure entered the room,--the same female
+that Truyn had encountered in the hall, but splendidly transformed,
+tightly laced, with cheeks covered thick with pink powder--Fritz
+Malzin's wife!
+
+"Very good of you," she began after Fritz had presented Truyn to her.
+Her voice had the forced sweetness of stage training. "Very good to
+honour our humble dwelling with a visit. May I take the liberty of
+offering you a cup of coffee, that is, Herr Count," as Truyn evidently
+hesitated, "if you can put up with our simple fare; in the country, you
+know, when one is not prepared ...."
+
+Fritz pulled his moustache nervously.
+
+Although he had reached the age of gastronomic fastidiousness, and
+especially abhorred spoiling the appetite between meals, Truyn
+good-naturedly accepted this pretentiously humble invitation.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The dining-room, a long narrow apartment with three windows, smelled of
+fresh varnish and fly-poison; the walls were decorated with dusty
+laurel wreaths wound about with ribbons covered with gilt inscriptions,
+and with several photographs of the hostess in tights. The long table
+was loaded with viands. Malzin's children, a girl and a boy,
+respectively five and three years old, shared the meal. They were pale,
+and sickly, but extremely pretty with a wonderfully sympathetic
+expression about the mouth and eyes, reminding one of their father. It
+was easy to see from the shy gentleness of their demeanour that Fritz
+had taken great pains with their training. He exchanged little tender
+jests with his small daughter, but he evidently made a special pet of
+the boy who sat beside him in a high chair, and to whose wants he
+himself ministered.
+
+There was nothing about Fritz of the amusing awkwardness of
+aristocratic fathers, who now and then in an amiable dilettante fashion
+interest themselves in the care of their offspring. On the contrary it
+was easy to see from the way in which he set the child straight at the
+table, tied on the bib, and put the mug of milk into the little hand,
+that the care of the child was a real occupation of his life.
+
+Truyn sat beside his hostess murmuring threadbare compliments, touching
+his lips to his coffee-cup, and crumbling a piece of biscuit on his
+plate.
+
+"You do our fare but little honour," the actress said more than once,
+"try a piece of this cake, Herr Count. Count Capriani who has a French
+cook, and is accustomed to the very best, always commends it."
+
+Fritz blushed. "Try this cherry cake," he said hastily. "Lotti
+makes it herself. She used always to feast me upon it when we were
+betrothed--eh, Lotti?"
+
+This cheery reference to her housewifely skill, offended the actress,
+and before Truyn could make some courteous rejoinder she exclaimed,
+flushed with anger, "You know, Herr Count, that where the means are so
+limited the mistress of the house must lend a hand."
+
+Truyn stammered something and Fritz smiled patiently as he stroked his
+little son's fair curls.
+
+It was a painfully uncomfortable hour.
+
+Truyn looked from the photographs to the glass fly-traps beneath which
+innumerable flies were lying on their backs, convulsively twitching out
+their lives, and his glance finally rested upon his hostess. She was
+strongly perfumed with musk, and was painted around the eyes. Her stout
+arms were squeezed into sleeves far too tight, and her bust almost met
+her chin. After this keen scrutiny, however, Truyn discovered that she
+was certainly handsome, that her face although disfigured by too full
+lips, was strikingly like that of the capitoline Venus.
+
+The intrusive humility of her manner, seasoned as it was with vulgar
+raillery, was insufferable.
+
+"For this woman!" he repeated to himself again and again. "For this
+woman!" His eye fell upon a photograph portraying the Countess as '_la
+belle Helene_,' in a costume that displayed her magnificent physique to
+great advantage, and he suddenly remembered that he had seen her in
+that role; that her acting was bad; but that she produced a dazzling
+impression on the stage.
+
+"Did you recognize that picture, Herr Count?" she asked suddenly.
+
+"Instantly," he assured her.
+
+"Did you ever see me play?"
+
+"I once had that pleasure."
+
+"Ah!" A remarkable transformation was immediately manifest, her languid
+air grew animated, thirst for the triumphs of the past glittered in her
+eyes. She moved her chair a little closer to Truyn and coquettishly
+leaning her head upon her hand whispered, "Were you one of my adorers?"
+
+Fritz frowned and glanced angrily towards her, twisting his napkin
+nervously.
+
+His attention was suddenly distracted however, by the noise of the
+blows of an axe resounding slowly and monotonously through the heavy
+summer air. Fritz changed colour, sprang up and hurried to the window.
+
+"What is the matter?" the actress asked him negligently.
+
+"They are cutting down the old beech," he said slowly, turning not to
+her, but to Truyn.--"The Friedrichs-beech; planted by one of our
+ancestors, Joachim Malzin, with his own hands after the liberation of
+Vienna; we children all cut our names upon it. Don't you remember how
+Madame Lenoir scolded us for it, and declared that it was not _comme il
+faut_, but a pastime befitting prentice boys only? Good Heavens--how
+long ago that is!--and now they are cutting it down. Capriani insists
+that it interferes with his view."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+"If one could only help him!--but there is nothing to be
+done--absolutely nothing!"
+
+Thus Truyn reflected, as distressed and compassionate, he rode home on
+his sleek cob, followed by his trim English groom.
+
+There are many varieties of compassion not at all painful, which, when
+well-seasoned with a charming consciousness of virtue, may serve
+sensitive souls as a tolerable amusement. There is, for example, an
+artistically contemplative compassion that, with hands thrust
+comfortably in pockets, looks on at some melancholy affair as at the
+fifth act of a tragedy, without experiencing the faintest call to
+recognize its existence except by heaving sundry sentimental sighs.
+Then there is a self-contemplative compassion which, quite as inactive
+as the artistically contemplative, culminates in the satisfactory
+consciousness of the comparative comfort of one's own condition; then a
+decorative compassion, which is displayed merely as a mental adornment
+upon solemn occasions when the man marches forth clad in full-dress
+moral uniform.
+
+But there is one compassion which is among the most painful sensations
+that can assail a delicate-minded human being--a compassion, always
+united to the most earnest desire to aid, to console, and yet which
+knows itself powerless in presence of the suffering; that longs for
+nothing in the world more ardently than to aid that which it cannot
+aid! And this it was that oppressed Truyn, as he rode home from
+Schneeburg,--this vain compassion lying like a cold, hard stone upon
+his warm, kind heart!
+
+"If one could only help him, could but make life at least tolerable for
+him,--poor Fritz, poor fellow!" he muttered again and again.
+
+The tall poplars, standing like a long row of gigantic exclamation
+points on the side of the road, cast strips of dark shade upon the
+light, dusty soil. The crickets were chirping in the hedges; in the
+wheat-fields to the right and left the ears nodded gently and gravely;
+red poppies and blue cornflowers--useless, picturesque gipsy-folk,
+amidst the ripening harvest--laughed at their feet. The clover-fields
+had passed their prime,--they were brown and a faint odour of faded
+flowers floated aloft from them. The transparent veil of early twilight
+obscured the light and dimmed the shadows.
+
+How thoroughly Truyn knew the road! The inmates of Schneeburg and
+Rautschin had formerly been good neighbours.
+
+A throng of laughing, beckoning phantoms glided through his mind. Out
+of the blue mist of the morning of his life, now so far behind him,
+there emerged a slender, girlish figure with long, black braids, and a
+downy, peach-like face--dark-eyed Pipsi, for whom Erich, then an
+enthusiast of sixteen, copied poems--and a second phantom came with
+her, merry-hearted Tilda, who with the pert insolence of her thirteen
+years used to laugh so mercilessly at the sentimental pair of lovers;
+and Hugo, a rather awkward boy, always at odds with his tutor and his
+Greek grammar.
+
+Where were they all? Hugo went into the army, and was killed in a duel;
+dark-eyed Pepsi married in Hungary, and died at the birth of her first
+child; Tilda married a Spanish diplomatist--Truyn had heard nothing of
+her for years;--not one of the Malzins was left in their native
+land, save Fritz, who at the time of Truyn's lyric enthusiasm was a
+curly-headed, babbling baby, before whose dimples the entire family
+were on their knees, and who of his bounty dispensed kisses among them.
+
+Truyn's thoughts wandered on--he recalled Fritz as an dashing officer
+of Hussars. He was one of the handsomest men in the army, fair, with a
+sunny smile and the proverbial Malzin conscientiousness in his earnest
+eyes, very fastidious in his pleasures, almost dandified in his dress;
+spoiled by women of fashion.
+
+"Who would have thought it!" Truyn repeated to himself, as he gazed
+reflectively between his horse's ears. Suddenly he became aware of a
+cloud of dust,--and of a delightful sensation warming his heart. He
+perceived Zinka and Gabrielle sitting in a low pony-wagon, and behind
+them in the footman's seat was Oswald. Zinka was driving, being the
+butt of much laughing criticism from the other two. How pleased Truyn
+was with the picture, and how often was he destined to recall it, the
+fair, lovely heads of the two women, the dark, handsome young fellow,
+who understood so well how to combine a merry familiarity with the most
+delicate courtesy! How happy they all looked!
+
+"You are late, papa!" Gabrielle called out.
+
+"Have I offended you again, comrade?"
+
+"But papa--!"
+
+"I was beginning to be a little anxious," said Zinka, "Ossi laughed at
+me, and said I was like his mother, who if he is half an hour late in
+returning home from a ride always imagines that he has been thrown and
+killed on the road, and that the only reason the groom does not make
+his appearance, is because he has not the courage to tell the sad
+tidings."
+
+Oswald laughed. "Yes, my mother's fancy runs riot in such images,
+sometimes," he admitted, stretching out his hand for the reins, that he
+might help Zinka to turn round. "And how is poor Fritz?"
+
+"Wretched--such misery is enough to break one's heart--and no getting
+rid of it."
+
+"And you are no longer angry with him?" Oswald asked with a touch of
+good-humoured triumph.
+
+"Heaven forbid! but--," Truyn rubbed his forehead--"Oh, that
+stock-jobber--that phylloxera!"
+
+Just then there appeared in the road an aged man, spare of habit and
+somewhat bent, but walking briskly; his features were sharp but not
+unpleasant, his arms were long, and his old-fashioned coat fluttered
+about his legs.
+
+"Good-day, Herr Stern," Oswald called out to him in response to his
+bow.
+
+Truyn doffed his hat and bowed low on his horse's neck.
+
+"Who is it whom you hold worthy of so profound a bow, papa?" Gabrielle
+asked.
+
+"Rabbi von Selz," Truyn made answer, "in times like these such people
+should be treated with special respect, if only for the sake of the
+lower classes who always regulate their conduct somewhat by ours."
+
+"Oho, uncle, your bow was a political demonstration, then," Oswald
+remarked.
+
+"To a certain degree," Truyn replied, "but Stern is, moreover, a very
+distinguished man."
+
+"He is indeed," Oswald affirmed, "he is a particular friend of mine--if
+any one among the people about here maltreats him, he always applies to
+me. Poor devil! The Jews are a very strange folk. I always divide them
+into two families, one related directly to Christ, the other to Judas
+Iscariot. Poesy, the Seer, has produced two immortal types of these
+families, Nathan and Shylock."
+
+"Aha, Ella, I hope you are duly impressed by your lover, he really
+talks like a book," Truyn rallied his daughter who, her fair head
+slightly bent backward, was looking over her shoulder at Oswald, with
+rapt admiration in her large eyes. "I invited Fritz to dine with you,
+comrade, the day after to-morrow. He is almost as madly enthusiastic
+about your betrothed as you are yourself, and you can sing your
+Laudamus together."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+"There is nothing to be done with the fellow.--I never encountered such
+weakness of mind," exclaimed Capriani to his wife.
+
+The hour was three, and just before dinner; in accordance with Austrian
+custom, or rather with the national bad habit, they dined at Schneeburg
+at half-past three, although the whole family, especially those of the
+second generation, accustomed to late foreign hours, found this earlier
+hour very inconvenient.
+
+"Of whom are you talking?" Madame Capriani asked in her depressed
+tone; she was sitting erect upon a small gilt chair, she wore a gray,
+silk-muslin gown, rather over-trimmed, _gants de Suede_, and an air of
+constraint.
+
+"Of whom are you talking?" she asked a second time, smoothing her
+gloves.
+
+"Of whom?--of that blockhead, Malzin," growled Capriani.
+
+"I told you from the first that he would never be able to fill that
+position," his wife rejoined.
+
+"Fill--!" Capriani shrugged his shoulders contemptuously, "fill--! it
+takes him two hours to write a business-letter. But I was prepared
+for that. His office is a sinecure; the salary that I pay him is an
+alms,--but Alfred Capriani can do as he pleases there,--and at least
+the fellow understands something about horses. What outrages me is to
+see how he squanders my money, the money that I give him. He ransacks
+the country round to buy back from the peasants relics of his parents.
+First an old clock, that struck twelve just as he was born, then an old
+piano, upon which his sisters used to strum the scales. 'Tis enough to
+drive one mad!"
+
+Frau von Capriani looked distressed. "That is a matter of sentiment,"
+she suggested.
+
+"A matter of sentiment--a matter of sentiment," Capriani repeated
+sarcastically. "It would be a matter of sentiment and conscience to
+think of saving up something for his children."
+
+"You are right, you are right," the Countess rejoined, in her emphatic
+yet not unmelodious Russian-German, "but this time you are in some
+measure to blame for his folly. I begged you a hundred times to ask him
+what he would like to keep for himself of the furniture which was
+entirely useless to us. Instead, you had it all put up at auction."
+
+"And the proceeds of the sale are to be devoted to the building of a
+new school, to be entirely independent of ecclesiastical influence,"
+said Capriani, "the old rubbish shall aid, willy-nilly, in the spread
+of modern liberal ideas. It is my aim to root out prejudices not to
+foster them. Would you have me minister directly to Malzin's folly? It
+would be nonsense. It makes me shudder to see this man, who owns
+nothing, positively nothing, except what I give him out of sheer
+kindness, and who ought to look ahead, keeping his eyes fixed upon the
+past, and sentimentally collecting empty bon-bon boxes, the contents of
+which his forefathers have devoured to the last crumb. He is the
+personification of the invincible narrowness of his class."
+
+"He is a good honest man," the Contessa said gently.
+
+"Honest,--honest!" Capriani repeated impatiently, "a man whose desires
+have been anticipated from his childhood, upon whose plate the
+pheasants have always fallen ready trussed and roasted, would naturally
+not contemplate picking pockets. To be sure, he might be tempted to try
+it, but he can't do it--he is too unpractical to be dishonest. There is
+nothing praiseworthy in that, for all the honesty that you ascribe to
+him he is a thorough selfish egotist; without the smallest scruple he
+robs his own children of thousands."
+
+"Malzin!" Frau von Capriani exclaimed, "why he would let his ears be
+cut off for his children, and if he refused to lose his hands too, it
+would only be because he needed them to work for his family."
+
+"To work!" rejoined Capriani ironically. "If he would only sacrifice
+for their sakes his miserable pride of rank he could do far more for
+them than by his work! He--and work! Do you know what reply he made to
+my splendid offer for his family vault? 'The vault is not for sale, it
+is the only spot of home that is left me. I will at least lie among my
+people when I am dead!' Can you conceive of greater insolence?"
+
+"Insolence--poor Malzin--he is as modest....!"
+
+"Modest!" sneered Capriani, interrupting her, "he is fairly bristling
+with arrogance. A starving pauper, living on my bounty, and all the
+while thinking himself superior to all of us. Intercourse with us is
+not at all to his taste."
+
+"He is always exquisitely courteous to me. I like him very much," Frau
+von Capriani declared. Her husband's constant attacks upon Malzin were
+beyond measure painful to her.
+
+"Men of his stamp are always gracious to ladies," snarled Capriani.
+
+Meanwhile his two children had entered the room, Arthur and Ad'lin,
+both in faultless toilettes, and both out of humour. The self-same
+weariness weighs upon both, the weariness of idlers who do not know how
+to squander time gracefully. Perhaps Georges Lodrin is not far wrong
+when he maintains that to idle away life gracefully is an art most
+difficult to acquire, and rarely learned in a single generation.
+
+Both asked fretfully whether the post had come, and then each sank into
+an arm-chair and fumed. One by one the various guests then staying in
+the castle appeared. Paul Angelico Orchis, a conceited little
+versifier, (lauded in the Blanktown Gazette as 'the first lyric poet of
+modern times') and the possessor of a dyspepsia acquired at the expense
+of others. A farce by him had been produced in Blanktown, and for ten
+years he had been promising the public a tragedy. Meanwhile his latest
+effort was the invention of a picturesque waterproof cloak. Frank, the
+famous tailor carried out his idea in dark brown tweed, in which the
+poet draped himself upon every conceivable occasion. After him followed
+two men of the kind which Georges Lodrin describes as 'gentlemen at
+reduced prices,' stunted specimens of the aristocracy, who played a
+very insignificant part in their own circles, and from time to time
+fled to their inferiors in rank to enjoy a little admiration. One,
+Baron Kilary, is a sportsman, insolent in bearing, lewd in talk; the
+other, Count Fermor, is a dilettante composer and pianist, affected and
+sentimental.
+
+Malzin and his wife also entered; while he bowed silently, and then
+respectfully kissed the hand of the hostess, Charlotte congratulated
+the two ladies upon the splendour of their attire, and lavished
+exaggerated admiration upon a couple of costly pieces of furniture
+which she had often seen before.
+
+Last of all appeared our old acquaintance, the Baroness Melkweyser, who
+had been at Schneeburg for a week. What was she doing there? The
+Caprianis looked to her for their admission into Austrian society,
+she looked to King Midas for the augmentation of her diminished
+income,--and something too might be gained from country air and regular
+meals for her worn and weary digestion.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+It is really melancholy for people who have been accustomed in Paris to
+entertain crowned heads, to be obliged in Austria to put up with a few
+sickly sprigs of nobility.
+
+The Menu was very elaborate; the clumsy table service came from
+_Froment-Munice_ and the china was Sevres of the latest pattern, white,
+with a coronet and cipher in gilt; the butler looked like a cabinet
+minister, and the silk stockings of the flunkies were faultless.
+Nevertheless the entire dinner produced a sham, masquerading effect,
+reminding one more or less of a stage banquet when all the viands are
+of papier-mache.
+
+The hostess, with Baron Kilary on her right, and Fritz Malzin on her
+left, devoted herself almost exclusively to the latter, asking him
+kindly questions about his children.
+
+The host, seated between the Baroness Melkweyser, and the Countess
+Malzin, contented himself with seeing that the actress's plate was kept
+well supplied, and with exchanging jests with her which were merely
+silly during soup, but which grew more objectionable at dessert.
+
+The Baroness Melkweyser studied the Menu, Paul Angelico Orchis
+complained of his dyspepsia and asked advice of his neighbour, Ad'lin
+Capriani, as to his diet. Moreover he testified his gratitude for
+Capriani's hospitality by praising everything enthusiastically. He
+remarked that he had visited Schneeburg formerly, but that he should
+hardly have recognised the castle again, absolutely hardly have
+recognised it, it was so wonderfully improved, he could not see how
+Count Capriani could have effected so much in so short a time.
+
+Whereupon the master of the mansion replied with aristocratic
+nonchalance: "The place had to be made habitable, but there's not much
+that can be done with it, it is nothing but an old barracks, an
+inconvenient old barracks." He then held forth at length upon the
+improvements which he still contemplated, concluding with, "But I have
+no room--the Schneeburg domain is so contracted, so insignificant!
+Unfortunately all the estates which would serve my purpose are owned by
+people unwilling to sell."
+
+Madame Capriani tried several times unsuccessfully to check her
+husband, and Fritz looked gloomily down into his empty plate.
+
+He had always been so proud of his Schneeburg, and that it should not
+be good enough for this swindler, forsooth!----
+
+Fermor looked discontented, and talked to Adeline about his
+compositions, betraying at every word the sentimental arrogance of a
+narrow-minded, lackadaisical, provincial aristocrat, greedy for
+adulation, and salving his conscience for his new associations, by
+making himself as disagreeable as possible to the people whose bread he
+eats.
+
+Malzin, albeit in a subordinate position, manifested from habit the
+instinctive reserve of a true gentleman, fearful of wounding the
+susceptibilities of his inferiors. The conduct of his fellows was in
+striking contrast to his own. Fermor ignored him. Kilary on the
+contrary continually tried to draw him into familiar talk upon subjects
+of which none of the others knew anything, a course evidently
+irritating to the host.
+
+Malzin was, moreover, the only one at table towards whom Kilary
+conducted himself courteously. To the poet he was especially insolent.
+At dessert he read aloud with sentimental emphasis a couple of
+bonbon-mottoes, and then asked, "My dear Orchis, are these immortal
+lines your own?" at which the poet vainly tried to smile. The rumour
+ran that when his finances were at a low ebb he did sometimes place his
+genius at the disposal of a Vienna confectioner.
+
+After dinner the gentlemen retired to the smoking-room to smoke, the
+ladies to the drawing-room to yawn.
+
+"I cannot cease looking at you, this evening, Comtesse," Charlotte
+Malzin exclaimed, seating herself on a sofa beside the daughter of the
+house, "your gown is enchanting."
+
+"Very much too picturesque for this part of the world, they can't
+appreciate these contrasts of colour in this barbarous country," Ad'lin
+said crossly, as she was wont to receive the actress's advances. "They
+are far behind the age in Austria! _Dieu, qui l'Autriche m'ennuie!_"
+
+The actress fell silent, in some confusion.
+
+"What had the poet to say to you, Ad'lin?" asked the Baroness
+Melkweyser, after she had inspected through her eye-glass each piece of
+furniture in turn in the drawing-room.
+
+"That he could not digest truffles, and that he means to dedicate his
+next work to me."
+
+"Ah! the first item is highly interesting, and the last uncommonly
+flattering," the Melkweyser rejoined.
+
+"Yes, it means that I must order at least fifty copies of the
+interesting effusion," Ad'lin said fretfully, adding with a half smile,
+"People in our position have to encourage literature--_noblesse
+oblige_!"
+
+The Baroness bit her lip and resumed her voyage of discovery, turning
+to a cabinet filled with antique porcelain.
+
+"You really cannot think," Ad'lin began, leaving her sofa to join her
+friend, "how I have longed for you! You are the only link here in
+Austria between ourselves and civilization. I depend upon your forming
+an agreeable circle for us here."
+
+It was noteworthy that since Zoe's return to her native land, Adeline's
+familiarity had seemed far less acceptable to her than it had been in
+Paris. "An agreeable circle!" she exclaimed, "that is easily said,
+but you make it very hard for me. You do not want to know our
+financiers ...."
+
+"The Austrian financiers have no position; even the Rothschilds are not
+received at Court."
+
+"And the Austrian aristocracy is excessively exclusive on its own
+soil--!" said Zoe.
+
+"Ah that exclusiveness is a _fable convenue_," Ad'lin insisted, "I am
+convinced that if Austrian society knew us ...."
+
+Instead of replying, the Melkweyser directed her eye-glass towards the
+porcelain on the shelves of the cabinet. "That is the Malzin old-Vienna
+tea-service."
+
+"Yes, but it cannot be used--it is not complete."
+
+"I know it, Wjera Zinsenburg has the other half."
+
+"If it would give the Countess the slightest pleasure to complete the
+set, I should be perfectly ready to place this half at her disposal!"
+Capriani's voice was heard to say.
+
+The gentlemen had left their cigars and had come to the drawing-room
+for their coffee. Fermor who was too nervous to allow himself the
+indulgence of a cup of Mocha, sat down at the piano, and began to
+prelude in an affected manner.
+
+Leaning in a languishing attitude against the raised cover of the
+piano, Ad'lin murmured, "No one but you invents such modulations. You
+ought to indulge me with a grand composition, Count; have you never
+completed one?"
+
+"I am busy now with a work of some scope for a grand orchestra," Fermor
+lisped, dabbing his limp, bloodless hands upon the keyboard like a
+nervous kangaroo.
+
+"Ah! A sonata?--An opera?"
+
+"No, a requiem; that is a kind of requiem--more correctly a morning
+impromptu, the last thoughts of a dying poacher."
+
+"Oh how interesting! Pray let me hear it."
+
+"It is a rather complicated piece of music, Fraeulein Capriani," Fermor
+always ignores the Capriani patent of nobility--"if you are not
+especially fond of our German classic masters ...."
+
+"I adore Wagner and Beethoven."
+
+"Then, indeed, I will .... but the harmony is very complicated!"
+
+Whereupon he began, with closed eyes, after the fashion of pretentious
+dilettanti, to deliver himself of a piece of music, the beginning of
+which reminded one of a piano-tuner, and the intermediate portion of
+the triumphal march of an operetta, and which, after it had lasted half
+an hour, and the audience had given up all hope of relief, suddenly,
+and without any apparent reason stopped short, a common termination
+where there has been no reason for beginning.
+
+"_C'est divin!_" Ad'lin exclaimed. "Your composition, Count, reminds me
+of the intermezzo of the Fifth symphony."
+
+"You are mistaken, Fraeulein Capriani, my composition recalls no other
+music!" Fermor said, greatly irritated.
+
+With his eyes glowing, his full red underlip trembling, and his manner
+insolently obtrusive, Capriani threw himself down beside Charlotte
+Malzin upon the sofa and stretched his arm along the back of it behind
+her shoulders.
+
+"Come and help me with my work, Count Malzin," Frau von Capriani called
+kindly from her pile of cretonne. "You have so steady a hand."
+
+And while Fritz took his place beside her, and began to cut a bird of
+Paradise out of the stuff with great precision, Kilary took Arthur by
+the buttonhole and said, "You ought to know all about it young man, how
+must one begin who wants to grow rich?"
+
+"You must ask my father," Arthur replied insolently. "All that I
+understand of financial matters is, how to make debts."
+
+A servant brought in the letters and papers upon a silver salver.
+
+Whilst Arthur opened a dozen begging letters, and tossed them aside,
+ironically remarking, "Three impoverished Countesses--two Barons--a
+captain ..." and whilst Ad'lin hailed with enthusiasm two letters from
+a couple of French duchesses whom she counted among her friends, the
+Conte hurriedly ran his eye over an unpretending epistle which he had
+instantly opened. His hands trembled, a strange greed shone in his
+eyes, and quivered about his lips. Quite pale, as one is apt to be
+in a moment of victory he paced the room to and fro once or twice
+and then stepping directly up to Malzin he exclaimed, "What do you
+think--coal--! Schneeburg is a coal-bed. Extraordinary! Your father
+tried after madder, and I--have found coal!"
+
+Malzin shuddered slightly, but merely said, "I congratulate you!"
+
+"Malzin would never have forgiven himself if your bargain had turned
+out a poor one," sneered Kilary.
+
+There was something in his irony that irritated Capriani, a rebellion
+of caste against the autocracy of money, which he chose to punish. As
+he was powerless with Kilary he turned to Malzin and said in a tone of
+insolent authority, "Malzin, get me the map of Bohemia that lies on my
+writing-table." At a moment like this the thin varnish of refinement
+which contact with the world had imparted was rubbed off entirely, he
+showed himself in all his coarseness, and this not through any
+recklessness, but intentionally, in the consciousness that he, Alfred
+Capriani might do as he chose. At a moment like this he delighted in
+treading beneath his feet all who did not prostrate themselves before
+his millions.
+
+Malzin had attained a height where such insults did not reach him. But
+the blood mounted to the cheek of the mistress of the mansion. "Arthur,
+go and get the map!" she said gently.
+
+Fritz languidly prevented him. "You do not know where the thing is," he
+said good-humouredly and left the room.
+
+Capriani went on pacing the spacious apartment in long strides. "They
+are all alike, these blockheads," he muttered, "when they take it into
+their heads to work they are more stupid than ever. Old Malzin tried
+everything; he ruined himself in artificial madder-red, in lager beer,
+in sugar and in stocks,--and it never occurred to him that millions
+were lying in the ground beneath his feet."
+
+Malzin returned with the map and as every table was overcrowded with
+bibelots and jardinieres, it was spread out upon the piano. Capriani
+eagerly travelled over it with his pudgy forefinger. "The track of the
+new railway must go here, between the iron works and Schneeburg."
+
+"Then it must go a very long round," Arthur remarked, "can you obtain
+the permit?"
+
+Capriani stuck a thumb in an arm-hole of his waistcoat and smiled.
+
+"Malzin, you know the estates around here; to whom does that belong?"
+pointing to a spot upon the map.
+
+"That belongs to Kamenz," said Malzin bending forward, and fitting his
+eye-glass in his eye.
+
+"And that?"
+
+"To Lodrin."
+
+"Then it comes to whether the interests of these gentlemen jump with
+your own," Arthur observed. "If they should work against you, you never
+can obtain the permit."
+
+"Pshaw! I understand tolerably well how to deal with these gentlemen."
+
+"Kamenz will give you no trouble, he is up to his neck in
+embarrassments, and would be glad to dispose advantageously of a piece
+of his land," drawled Kilary, looking at the map and giving his opinion
+with lazy assurance.
+
+"Lodrin's affairs cannot be in a very brilliant condition," Arthur
+remarked; "ever since his majority he has been making no end of
+improvements, and he is hard up financially."
+
+"With such an enormous property as the Lodrin estate there can be none
+save temporary embarrassments," Kilary said drily, "and in no case
+would Lodrin allow himself to be influenced by personal considerations.
+If you cannot demonstrate to him that the new railway will conduce to
+the universal benefit of the whole country he never will agree to it,
+and unless he does you can do nothing with the present ministry. A
+comical fellow Lodrin--a perfect pedant in some ways."
+
+"No," said Malzin, "not the least of a pedant, but a hot head with a
+heart of gold, and when duty is concerned, he is just like his father."
+
+"The old idiot," Capriani muttered below his breath, slowly as, with an
+air that was almost tender he stroked his long whiskers, while an odd
+smile played about his lips. "In fact you are right, Malzin,--a
+charming fellow, Ossi--a superb creature; not one of your Austrian
+nobility can hold a candle to him. But I--you'll see, Malzin,--I'll
+twist Ossi Lodrin around my thumb."
+
+Half an hour afterwards the guests separated. Frau von Capriani, more
+depressed than usual, retired to her room.
+
+The gentlemen went to the garden, and shot at a target; Conte Capriani,
+who never could bring down a pheasant on the wing, proved more
+successful than any of the others in hitting the bull's-eye.
+
+When the Melkweyser, who had been indulging in a short nap, entered the
+library half an hour afterwards to look for a 'sanitary novel' she
+found Ad'lin deep in the study of a small thick volume.
+
+Zoe looked over her shoulder; the book was the 'Gotha Almanach,' the
+Bradshaw of the Austrian aristocracy.
+
+"What are you looking for?" the Baroness asked.
+
+"For the Fermors--I want to know who the Count's mother was. She is not
+in this year's list. She was a Princess Brack, was she not?"
+
+"No, his mother was a Fraeulein Schmitt, the daughter of a rich
+tavern-keeper."
+
+"Ah!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+The Malzins walked home through the park. Fritz looked perturbed. His
+wife held her head high, and in no agreeable mood chewed at the stalk
+of a rose which the Conte had cut for her.
+
+"Lotti," Fritz began after a while, "I know that you act without
+reflection; you were a little imprudent to-day; it would be of no
+consequence with a man of breeding, but from a man like Capriani a lady
+must not allow the least familiarity."
+
+"You always find something to lecture me about," she replied sharply.
+"I have long known that I am not good enough for you. But I must
+confess that I have never observed that the ladies of your circle are
+more reserved than those of mine."
+
+"You know none of them," Fritz rejoined with incautious haste.
+
+"You certainly have afforded me no opportunity of knowing them,"
+Charlotte retorted, reddening with anger, "although you probably would
+have done so, had you not been ashamed of me from the first. Count
+Truyn has managed to give his wife a position,--but you--you would
+rather have died than have stirred a finger for me."
+
+This was not literally true, for Fritz had once knocked off the hat of
+an acquaintance who had forgotten to remove it in Charlotte's presence;
+on one occasion he had fought a duel on her account, and on another had
+horsewhipped a slandering editor, but it was substantially true that he
+had made not the smallest effort to introduce her to his world. He made
+no reply now to her reproaches, hung his head, and pulled at his
+moustache. She went on with angry volubility. "You were ashamed to walk
+in the street with me, and when you took me to the theatre you always
+hid yourself in the back of the box, and every day you had some fault
+to find with my ways. I have watched your aristocratic ladies at the
+races, at the theatre, and at artist's festivals--and their manners are
+as free--and it must out--as ill-bred ...."
+
+"The ill-breeding of a lady of rank," Fritz interrupted her impatiently
+"extends usually only as far as the good-breeding of the man with whom
+she chances to be."
+
+"I don't know what you mean," the opera-bouffe singer replied.
+
+"Our ladies know that the men whom they honour with their gay talk
+recognise their little whims, and merry extravagances as tokens of
+confidence which they would never dream of abusing. We never allow
+ourselves to step beyond the line which the lady herself draws.
+Familiarities like those which Capriani allowed himself toward you
+to-day are impossible among people of refinement. Of course from him
+nothing better can be expected; low fellow that he is!"
+
+"And you are his hired servant," said Charlotte.
+
+"Yes!" he replied, "I am his servant; it is my duty to select his
+horses and to write his letters, but I am not obliged to dine with him;
+that is not in the contract. And from this time I shall accept no more
+of his invitations. I will not expose myself a second time to the
+annoyance to which you and he subjected me to-day."
+
+Charlotte began to cry. "You are cruel to me--and rough," she sobbed.
+"I have put up with poverty for your sake, sacrificed a brilliant
+career to my love for you----"
+
+"Yes--yes, I know--I know--I am very sorry for you--but what can I do?"
+said Fritz.
+
+"The only pleasure I can enjoy, you want to deprive me of, when I look
+forward to it from Sunday to Sunday."
+
+"You enjoy it?--What, for Heaven's sake do you enjoy about it?" asked
+Fritz, to whom everything at these Sunday dinners was an offence,
+except the gentle eyes and soft voice of the hostess.
+
+"I enjoy mingling at last in fine society," she said stubbornly, and as
+he only stared at her in silence, she went on, "I know that you despise
+modern fine folk. But my views are broader and freer, and I have no
+feeling for aristocratic chimeras!"
+
+She had indeed no feeling for chimeras with or without the adjective,
+no feeling for moral and social subtleties, no feeling for honourable
+traditional superstitions, for fine inherited weaknesses and illusions,
+no feeling for all that constitute the moral supports of a caste,
+although they cannot be expressed in words or grasped with the hand.
+How could this woman comprehend Fritz, Fritz who had grown up with
+chimeras, who had made playmates of them in the nursery?
+
+He shrugged his shoulders and was silent. Just then the wailing of a
+weak childish voice fell upon the warm evening air. Fritz hurried
+forward; in front of the small arbour, with his little son in her lap,
+sat an old woman; it was old Miller, his nurse in childhood, who had at
+last found an asylum in a corner of his house. "The little fellow is
+crying for his father," she said while the boy smiling through his
+tears stretched out his tiny arms. "The Herr Count ought not to spoil
+him so."
+
+"Never mind that, Miller," Fritz said taking the child in his arms.
+"Oh, my pale darling, what should we do without each other, hey?"
+
+Fifteen minutes afterwards Fritz was sitting on the edge of a small bed
+on which his boy was kneeling with folded hands, looking in his snowy
+night-gown, that fell in straight folds about him, like a veritable
+Luca della Robbia.
+
+"Come, Franzi, have you forgotten your prayer?"
+
+
+           "In my small bed I lay me here,
+            I pray Thee dearest Lord be near,
+            About me clasp Thy loving arm,
+            And shelter me and keep me warm."
+
+
+the child murmured sleepily, then offered his lips to his father and
+lay down.
+
+It was a childish prayer--but Fritz learned it at his mother's knee
+from her dear lips--reason enough for teaching it to his son.
+
+And until the little man fell asleep, his hand under his cheek, Fritz
+still sat on the edge of the bed and dreamed.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+Yes, of a truth, Fritz had grown up with chimeras; they had been his
+playmates, born and bred and domesticated in Schneeburg.
+
+To them it was due that Fritz had married a second-rate actress; that
+Fritz, under all the most distressing circumstances, had still suffered
+from homesickness, and had taken refuge 'at home;' that he had always
+possessed a character not merely respectable, but thoroughly noble;
+never forfeiting the esteem of his equals although stricken from their
+visiting lists; and that, when in fulness of time he should make ready
+for the final journey, he might boldly face these very chimeras and
+say: "Often have I sinned against myself, and my own best happiness,
+but never, never against you; come therefore and help me to die."
+
+His father was a gentleman, a philosopher, a freethinker,--a visionary,
+if you will. He raved about the new gospel of 1789, as one raves about
+an exotic flower, because of its unparalleled oddity, and from the
+conviction that it never can endure our climate. He had all kinds of
+bourgeois intimates and the "Contrat social" was his favourite book.
+But when his son, not from blind passion, but to satisfy conscientious
+scruples, married an actress, he was beside himself. When Fritz, not
+without a hint as to the circumstances that had led him to the fatal
+step, announced his marriage, his letter was sent by the old Count to
+his lawyer to answer. He himself refused any further intercourse with
+his son.
+
+Had Fritz's mother been living, all might perhaps have been different.
+His wife would have been personally more distasteful to her than to his
+father, the fact of the connection would have seemed to her more
+miserable than to the old Count; but compassion for her child would
+have triumphed finally over every other consideration, her heart
+might have bled, but she would have taken home the distasteful
+daughter-in-law, and have tried to educate her for her position. At all
+events she would have known that when a man has trifled away 'the
+world,' his own home is his true place of refuge.
+
+To all this the old Count gave never a thought, although he was
+kind-hearted, and Fritz had always been avowedly his favourite. He saw
+nothing but the misery and degradation of it all; his heart was
+benumbed by anger. All that was bestowed upon Fritz when he married,
+was his father's curse, the property which he inherited from his
+mother, and his share of what had belonged to an elder brother who had
+died. Although he had from the outset belonged among the "_forcats du
+mariage_," he did not for some time feel the burden of his chain and of
+the enforced companionship. Of an intensely sanguine temperament he had
+a positive genius for looking on the bright side of life. What annoyed
+him most at first was being obliged, on account of his marriage, to
+quit the service. He was terribly bored by having to spend the entire
+day without his comrades or his horses. His yearly income at this time
+amounted to the modest sum of six thousand gulden. After he had made
+out a list of necessary expenses,--that is, added up certain figures
+upon a visiting card with a gold pencil, he came to the conclusion,
+with a shrug, that a married man could not possibly live upon six
+thousand gulden a year, and that therefore, under the circumstances, he
+might allow himself the privilege of contracting debts.
+
+Of course he would have thought it niggardly to save up anything while
+in the army; yet he had never been extravagant, he had always at the
+end of the month had something left over with which to help out a
+comrade.
+
+He hoped to be able to curtail his household expenses; but there were
+so many things that no respectable man 'could go without,' and still
+more, which his wife could not deny herself.--
+
+When Fritz was quite a little boy, his father had often admonished him
+as to the serious nature of life, and had impressed him as a younger
+son with the necessity of restricting his needs as much as possible,
+and even of earning his own living. His narrow circumstances in the
+future, had occupied the boy's mind, and one day he opened his heart to
+his sister's governess, at that time his confidante. He said to her,
+"Madame! Papa yesterday told of a contractor who employed people for
+fifty kreutzers a day.--Is that fair?"
+
+"Certainly, _mon bijou_. Why do you ask?"
+
+The boy looked very important, and began to reckon on his small
+fingers, "Fifty kreutzers a day--hm--that makes five gulden for ten
+persons--if I marry, and my wife keeps a maid, and I a man--and if we
+have six children beside--five gulden a day--I can afford that at
+least."
+
+At twenty-six years of age Fritz's ideas with regard to economy were
+not much more practical. A household with neither man-servant nor
+maid-servant did not come within his range of possibilities.
+
+He spent a couple of weeks with his young wife at the Hotel Munsch; a
+hostelry now out of fashion, but having for generations enjoyed the
+patronage of the Malzin family, and after that he hired a pretty suite
+of second-story rooms in a retired street, and arranged it according to
+his taste, and as he honestly believed, as moderately as possible. He
+had none of the snobbishness of an impoverished parvenu, who is ashamed
+of being obliged suddenly to retrench, and hides his economies as a
+crime. On the contrary, he exulted boyishly when he had succeeded in
+procuring at a moderate price some pretty piece of furniture, an old
+oriental rug, or a carved chest, nor did he ever hesitate to lend a
+hand himself; he hammered and tacked with his slender fingers, as if he
+had been bred to such work all his life.
+
+And it must be admitted that, with the exception of the drawing-room,
+which his wife in spite of his remonstrances persisted in disfiguring
+with green damask hangings, purchased at an auction with her savings,
+his little home was a masterpiece of tasteful comfort. His former
+comrades liked to drop in often for a game of cards with him. There was
+no high play, and the drinking was very moderate, but the supper, the
+style of the company, and the company itself, were always alike
+exquisite.
+
+The only disturbing element at these unostentatious gatherings was the
+mistress of the household, who sat opposite her husband at supper,
+affected and peevish in manner, and really bored by the high-bred and
+respectful courtesy with which she was treated.
+
+At first Fritz had indulged in ideal schemes of educating his wife, but
+they all came to grief. There was no trace in the wife of the docile
+devotion of the betrothed. A woman whose whole heart is her husband's
+never feels humiliated by his superiority. Her whole being aspires to
+him, her perceptions become all the more acute, and in a very short
+while she learns to divine, to avoid, whatever may offend him.
+
+This was, however, by no means the case with Charlotte. Her love for
+Fritz was of a very humdrum kind, and comprehension of him she had
+none. She did not acknowledge his superiority. All his good-humoured
+little preachments upon manners, she listened to with stubborn
+irritability. She was characterized to an extreme degree by the
+obdurate narrow-mindedness which sneers conceitedly at everything
+unlike itself, and absolutely refuses to learn. Fine clothes and
+pedantic affectations awed her, but she had no appreciation for
+the simple good-breeding of a man whose manners are the natural
+outgrowth of the habits of his class. Genuine good-breeding is like a
+mother-tongue which is spoken from childhood unconsciously as to its
+source, and correctly, without a thought of conjugations and
+declensions.
+
+This she neither knew nor understood; she was far better pleased with
+the artificial manners which are acquired when one is grown up, like a
+foreign tongue from the grammar, and which are continually seasoned
+with pretentious quotations, from modern dictionaries of etiquette. The
+difference between Count Fritz and a smugly-dressed bagman, lay in her
+eyes solely in the title.
+
+Before long Fritz grew tired of trying to educate her, and confined
+himself merely to the most necessary admonitions.
+
+Time passed--and there was a cradle hung with green silk in the
+Countess's room, and within it lay a boy of rare beauty. Charlotte
+petted and caressed her child with the instinct of tenderness shown by
+the lower animals towards their young, an instinct which fades out
+gradually, as soon as the offspring can forego its mother's physical
+care. Fritz rejoiced over the little fellow and had him christened
+Siegfried after the old Count his father, to whom he announced the
+birth of his grandson, hoping that it might help to bring about a
+reconciliation with the angry parent.
+
+But the Count took no notice of the announcement.
+
+At first Fritz's paternal sentiments were by no means enthusiastic, and
+if at times he caressed the little man, it was more out of kindness
+towards the mother than out of real interest in the child.
+
+On one occasion, however, he happened to enter the nursery just before
+going out, his hat on his head. The little one was in his bath, an
+expression of absolute physical comfort in his half-closed eyes, and on
+his plump little body, every dimple of which could be seen distinctly
+beneath the clear water.
+
+Fritz stopped, and playfully sprinkled a few drops of water upon the
+pretty baby-face. The child opened wide his eyes, and when his father
+repeated the play, the little one chuckled so merrily that it sounded
+like the cooing of doves, while throwing back his head and clinching
+his rosy fists upon his breast.
+
+A few days afterward Fritz went again to the nursery; this time the boy
+was just out of his bath and was being dried in the nurse's lap. He
+recognised his father and stretched out his plump arms to him. Fritz
+could not help tickling him a little, touching his dimples with a
+forefinger, and catching hold of the wee hands; a strange sensation
+crept over him at the touch of the pure warm baby-flesh.
+
+From that time he went into the nursery every day, if only for a
+moment. The child grew more and more lovely. His little pearly teeth
+appeared, and soft, golden hair hung over his forehead. He soon began
+in his short frocks to creep on all-fours over the carpet, and even to
+rise to his feet, holding by some article of furniture; and once, as
+Fritz was watching him with a languid smile, the boy suddenly left the
+chair against which he was leaning, and proudly and laboriously putting
+one foot before the other, advanced four steps towards his father, upon
+whose knee he was placed triumphantly quite out of breath with the
+mighty effort.
+
+When a little girl appeared as a claimant for the green-draped cradle,
+a pretty diminutive bedstead was placed in Fritz Malzin's room.
+
+What good comrades they were, Papa, and Siegi! Fritz talked to the
+little fellow of all sorts of things that he never mentioned to any one
+else, of his loved ones, of his home! And Siegi would look at him out
+of his large eyes, as earnestly as if he understood every word. Long
+before he could put words together, the boy learned to say "grandpapa,"
+and when his father, pointing to the photograph of an old castle, that
+hung framed in the smoking-room, asked "Siegi, what is that?" the
+little fellow would reply "Neeburg."
+
+The child was his father's friend, his companion, and was loved with an
+idolatry such as only those fathers can know who are estranged from
+their wives, and have no other interest in life.
+
+Of course the child had a French bonne, but her post was almost a
+sinecure. Fritz scarcely lost sight of the child for a moment.
+
+Shortly after his removal to Wiplinger street he had become convinced
+by certain calculations, that, in view of the high price demanded by
+hack-drivers, it was a great economy to keep horses.
+
+The result of these calculations was attained after the fashion of the
+clever man who demonstrated clearly that it is far cheaper to live in a
+first-class Hotel than in one of the second class.
+
+When Siegi was barely three years old, Fritz used to put him on the
+seat beside him in his dog-cart, and drive with him in the Prater. For
+greater security the child was tied fast to the back of the seat with a
+broad, silken scarf.
+
+Count Malzin's dog-cart was soon one of the best-known turn-outs in the
+Prater; the picturesque, lovely child beside the handsome,
+distinguished man could not fail to attract notice. Siegi was always
+dressed in good taste, and his soft curls lay like gold upon his
+shoulders. From time to time his little face was turned up eagerly to
+his father with some childish question. Then Fritz would bend over him
+with a smile, and sometimes put his arm around him.
+
+It was a positive delight to see them thus together. Many a lady who
+since Fritz's marriage had returned his bow but coldly, now nodded to
+him kindly as they gazed after the child.
+
+Once on a lovely day in April, Fritz alighted from his dog-cart with
+his little son and took him to walk, as was customary in Vienna, in the
+Prater. He was surrounded in a few minutes by a group of ladies with
+whom he had formerly been acquainted. Siegi had a triumphant success,
+every one wanted a kiss or a pat from his little hand.
+
+"Exquisite!" exclaimed one after another. "What a little angel! Malzin,
+you must bring the child to see us."
+
+"Fritz, do bring him to see me to-morrow at five, my children take
+their dancing-lesson then. You will come, won't you? You know the way."
+
+And Fritz, flattered, smiled and bowed.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Since his marriage he had not gone into society; but for his boy's sake
+he accepted these invitations; the little fellow must learn to
+associate with his equals. Fritz resolved that he himself should alone
+endure the consequences of his folly, his son should not suffer from
+it.
+
+Although well-bred people of rank in their normal condition usually
+train their children to a conventional modesty of demeanour, Fritz, on
+the contrary, took pleasure in making his son almost haughty, he, whose
+own lack of all pretention had been a by-word!
+
+When pride stands on the defensive, it always deteriorates somewhat.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+In spite of the modest scale of his household expenses, Fritz found to
+his surprise that during the first year he had spent just double his
+income. "It is always so the first year," he consoled himself by
+thinking, but when the second year was no better but much worse, the
+matter began to annoy him.
+
+At his card-parties, which were still kept up, although Charlotte but
+seldom appeared at them, (a relief usually purchased by Fritz with a
+box for her at the theatre,) one of the guests was a certain Baron
+Schneller, a good-natured, well-to-do fellow, who had no taste for
+earning money, and was in consequence rather in disgrace with his
+family, who showed great diligence in that direction. He squandered his
+income among antiquities and ballet-girls. His volunteer year he had
+served in Fritz's squadron.
+
+In his embarrassment Fritz applied to Schneller, and asked whether he
+knew of any more profitable investment for money than Austrian
+government bonds? Whereupon the banker's indolent son replied that he
+himself always invested upon principle in mortgages, but if Fritz
+wanted to know, he would ask his brother, who was at the head of his
+father's banking-firm.
+
+The next day he came, in his good-natured way, to see Fritz, bringing a
+list of 'safe stocks,' which were just then paying enormous dividends,
+and saying "My brother sends his regards, and begs you to consider him
+entirely at your service in any financial operation."
+
+With characteristic carelessness, Fritz delivered over his property to
+the banker, and the banker protested that it was an honour to oblige
+the young gentleman.
+
+After this Fritz felt free to spend three times as much as before. His
+property swelled and swelled without his comprehending the mysterious
+reasons for its increase. At last it began to assume the most
+unexpected dimensions. This lasted for some time.
+
+One day the banker informed the young Count that he was a millionaire,
+and asked him at the same time if he did not wish to realize.
+
+"Where is the use?" said Fritz, "there is no hurry,--er--I'll have a
+talk with you about it one of these days. I have no time just now."
+
+He had promised the children to take them to the circus; of course he
+had no time for business.
+
+He was dining with Schneller, when he suddenly heard a young government
+official, who did not belong exactly to financial circles, say. "A
+sorry prospect--the evening papers say that the Sternfeld-Lonsbergs are
+shaky."
+
+Fritz was startled. Little as he troubled himself about business
+affairs, he knew that the greatest part of his property was invested in
+Sternfeld-Lonsbergs. He looked fixedly at his host, who, however, only
+shrugged his shoulders, and remarking, "merely an insignificant
+depression," scraped a piece of turbot from the half-denuded vertebrae
+of the fish which the servant was handing him.
+
+Fritz continued to talk to his fair neighbour with the self-possession
+of a thoroughly well-bred man, while the Japanese dinner-service, with
+the cut glass, and flowers on the table danced wildly before his eyes.
+
+After dinner, his eye-glass in his eye, and a pleasant smile on his
+lips, he took occasion to glance furtively at a paper, lying on a
+little table. His blood fairly ran cold; suddenly Baron Schneller stood
+beside him. "You are entirely wrong to be worried," he asserted, and
+Fritz laughed and shrugged his shoulders as if the affair in question
+were a mere bagatelle. But the next day he wrote a note to the banker
+begging him to dispose of his stock for him. The banker dissuaded him
+from selling, the market was unfavourable; for the present he insisted
+the only thing to do was to wait.
+
+Fritz complied; shortly afterwards the banker advised him to take part
+in a complicated transaction which Fritz took no pains to understand,
+but which Schneller assured him positively would result in enormous
+profits.
+
+It was simply a reckless piece of stock-gambling.
+
+Fritz agreed to everything--what did he know about it? His financial
+affairs began to inconvenience him more and more. He wanted to be rich.
+
+Just at this time he had to pay a couple of large bills, which had not
+been presented for three years. He thought of his father. Good Heavens!
+The old Count could not be angry still. But, after years of alienation
+he could not in a financial difficulty make up his mind to appeal to
+him without further preface.
+
+"No, no, that will not do," he said to his small confidant, Siegi. "We
+must first see whether grandpapa cares for us, and if he does then we
+will make our confession; if not--_vogue la galere_."
+
+He never guessed the terrible misery that menaced him. Poverty was a
+phantom of which he had heard, without believing in it--it was as
+incomprehensible to him as death to a perfectly healthy man.
+
+And so Siegi's bonne had to dress the boy in his newest sailor suit,
+and his father took him to be photographed.
+
+The picture was excellent. Fritz took a boyish delight in it, and
+showed it to all his acquaintances. He thought it impossible that the
+grandfather could resist that cherub face. He wrote the old Count a
+letter, every word of which came warm from his heart, telling him how
+he longed to see him, and then he guided Siegi's hand--the boy had just
+begun to write the alphabet large between pencilled lines--to write
+upon the back of the photograph: "Dear grandpapa, love me a little--I
+send you a kiss and I am your little grandson.              Siegi."
+
+He awaited an answer in feverish but almost unwavering hope. The fourth
+day brought a letter from Schneeburg. Fritz recognised his father's
+handwriting and hurriedly tore open the envelope. It contained nothing
+save Siegi's photograph, which the old Count had returned without a
+word.
+
+Fritz clinched his fist and stamped his foot. Then he lifted his little
+son in his arms, kissing and caressing him as if to atone to the boy
+for the insult cast on him.
+
+It was impossible to ask any favour of one who could act thus, even
+were he his father.
+
+This was at the end of September, and shortly afterwards came ruin,
+utter inevitable ruin! Not modest poverty which privately plucks our
+sleeve and whispers, "retrench--economize!" no, but downright brutal
+poverty, that seizes us by the collar with a dirty hand and wrenching
+us out of the warm soft nest of our daily habits, casts us out into the
+cold barren street with "Starve! vagabond! freeze!"
+
+The million had disappeared, and when the banker, Schneller, announced
+to Fritz his ruin, he added, "of course you cannot be forced to meet
+your obligations, Herr Count. The matter lies partly in your own
+hands."
+
+Fritz stared at him! The worst of it all was that his property was not
+sufficient to cover his indebtedness!
+
+A multitude of petty creditors suddenly flocked around, saddlers,
+tailors, shoemakers, upholsterers, whose bills mounted to thousands.
+Fritz was beside himself. Small tradesmen must not lose by him. He
+broke up his entire household, and disposed of everything, from the
+oriental rugs in his smoking-room, to Siegi's black velvet suit and
+Venetian lace collar.
+
+But with all that he could do he could not pay every one. Some of the
+lesser creditors were coarse and pressing, but most of them only meekly
+twirled their caps about in their hands, murmuring, "We can wait, Herr
+Count; we rely entirely upon the Herr Count."
+
+He lived through each day dully, almost apathetically. The dreariness
+and emptiness of his house made no impression upon him. When the time
+came for him to part with his horses--a member of the _jeunesse doree_
+of Vienna bought them at a high price--he took Siegi and went down into
+the stable, where he fed the beautiful creatures with bread and sugar,
+and stroked their heads and patted their necks; and when he turned and
+left them neighing and snorting with delight--it seemed to him that a
+piece of his heart were being torn from out his breast!....
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Every day his wife asked him when he was going to appeal to his father,
+but he made no reply. After the insult that the old Count had offered
+to his darling, nothing should ever induce him to make another appeal.
+Nothing? So he thought then. "My father must have heard of my
+unfortunate circumstances," he said to himself, "and if it does not
+occur to him to help me, there is nothing that I can do."
+
+He determined to find a situation,--of course one befitting his name
+and station. If every ancient noble name to-day in Austria cannot lay
+claim, as in France in Louis the Fourteenth's time, to an office at
+court, or to a salary, there are at least a hundred kinds of sinecures
+that can afford the means of living suitably for their rank, to young
+scions of the nobility who have not sinned against the prejudices of
+their caste.
+
+His fatal marriage aggravated the difficulties of Malzin's position.
+The horizon of his existence contracted and darkened more and more.
+
+The dogged determination which, closing accounts with the past,
+resolutely clears away the debris of a ruined life from the path which
+is to lead to a new existence, Fritz did not possess. His was the
+passive endurance of pride, which calmly bows beneath the burden, and
+drags on with it to the end, simply because it scorns to complain or to
+appeal to compassion.
+
+_One_ feeling only was stronger within him than pride, and that was
+love for his children.
+
+Were he alone concerned, he would rather have starved than prefer a
+second request after the first had been refused, but he could not bring
+himself to see his children slowly starve.
+
+He applied to several individuals who had always been on terms of great
+intimacy with his family, but after some had refused to receive him,
+and others had ignored his request with a forced smile, he felt
+paralysed, and resigned himself for a while to melancholy, brooding
+inactivity. There must come a change sooner or later, he thought. In
+the meanwhile he lived upon--debt, and could not comprehend why
+professional usurers should need so much urging to induce them to lend
+him, the probable heir of Schneeburg, a paltry couple of hundred
+gulden.
+
+Had he been more exactly informed of his father's circumstances, this
+would not have surprised him so much. But he had heard nothing of the
+old Count for years. A strange repugnance had prevented his speaking of
+him to strangers,--it would only expose his own unfortunate
+estrangement from his father to their indiscreet curiosity. Every day
+he had a secret hope, although he hardly admitted it to himself, that
+the old Count would take pity upon him, and suddenly appear
+providentially.
+
+But his father did not appear, and thus it was that finally he, Fritz
+Malzin, with his wife and children occupied two dingy third-story
+rooms in Leopold street, rented from his mother-in-law, who kept a
+lodging-house for gentlemen.
+
+Charlotte from morning until night bewailed her husband's
+unconscionable heedlessness, but in reality she was much happier than
+in Wipling street. To lounge about all the morning in a slatternly
+dishabille, to help prepare the breakfast for the lodgers, to gossip a
+little and flirt a little, and then in the evenings to array herself in
+the finery which she had contrived to smuggle into her present
+quarters, and to go to Ronacher's or some other beer-garden, where half
+a dozen second and third-rate coxcombs addressed her as 'Frau
+Countess,' and paid court to her,--such a life was bliss after the
+tedium of her former existence. She went out every evening, leaving
+Fritz at home with the children, revolving all kinds of improbable
+possibilities which might suddenly improve his condition, and devising
+schemes dependant upon lucky accidents that never happened.
+
+Sometimes a little warm hand was thrust into his; and a soft voice
+whispered to him: "Papa, tell me a story!"
+
+Then rousing himself from his sad reveries, he would try to make up
+some merry tale, but Siegi would shake his head, and nestling close to
+his father with his arms clinging about his neck and his head leaning
+against his father's cheek would beg, "Tell me about Schneeburg, Papa."
+
+The winter with its long nights wore on in close rooms poisoned by
+coal-gas, and pervaded by the cramping sensation of wretched
+confinement. Spring came; Siegi had lost his rosy cheeks, and his merry
+laugh. Every afternoon towards sunset his father took him out to walk.
+The child coughed a little.
+
+One warm day in April the clouds were hanging low, while ever
+and anon in the narrow street a swallow skimmed anxiously to and fro.
+Siegi was weary, and his little feet dragged one after the other,
+when suddenly he pulled his father's hand, joyously shouting: "Papa,
+papa--look--don't you see?--there is our Miesa!"
+
+Fritz looked. It did not take an old 'cavalry man' an instant to
+recognize in an animal harnessed to a fiacre, one of his handsome
+horses of aforetime.
+
+"Miesa! how are you, old girl?" he said caressingly.
+
+The creature recognised him instantly, and whinnied her delight. Fritz
+patted her neck and lifted Siegi up that he might kiss the white star
+on the animal's forehead, as he used to do.
+
+Then they resumed their walk. Without saying a word Fritz stroked his
+little son's cheek;--it was wet with tears. The poor little fellow was
+crying silently, for fear of grieving his father!
+
+Fritz felt a strange, choking sensation. He took the boy to a
+confectioner's, but the child could eat nothing.
+
+That night Siegi was taken ill. The physician pronounced it
+inflammation of the lungs. Lying in his father's arms for three days
+and nights, the boy suffered fearfully, and then the crisis was over.
+At the end of three weeks the little fellow could leave his bed, but he
+was paler and weaker than ever.
+
+During Siegi's illness Fritz borrowed a hundred gulden from a former
+friend. Shortly afterwards he saw this friend in the street and was
+advancing to meet him when he saw him cross over the way with the
+evident intention of avoiding him. Fritz's blood was stirred at this,
+and blind, reckless rage seized him. The paltry hundred should be
+repaid at any cost. He sold his winter overcoat, and the golden
+chronometer which his father had given to him on his sixteenth
+birthday, and which was to have been an heirloom for Siegi.
+
+He paid the hundred gulden--but ah, how often he repented it!
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+Among the lodgers at the widow Schmitt's, as Charlotte's mother was
+called, was a sallow-faced old woman, whose room was a small, dark,
+comfortless hole, and who wore the same shabby, green gown, summer and
+winter, year in and year out. She was known as Frau Pick, and she was a
+professional beggar.
+
+One day, on returning from some humiliating errand, Fritz heard one of
+his sisters-in-law call to his wife: "Pick is waiting."--"I am ready,"
+was the reply, and Charlotte came out into the passage with a letter in
+her hand. Fritz sprang to meet her, snatched the letter from her,
+forced her back into the room and, entering, closed the door behind
+them.
+
+The letter was addressed to the archbishop of Vienna.
+
+"What does this letter contain?" he asked angrily, seizing her so
+rudely by the wrist, that she screamed and fell upon her knees before
+him; she did not answer his question, however.
+
+"Is it a begging-letter?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+He thrust her from him indignantly. "Shame upon you!" he exclaimed.
+
+"It is all your fault!" she replied scornfully, "if you won't work, I
+must beg."
+
+"Ah!"--he staggered as if from a blow full in the face, snatched up his
+hat and went out.
+
+Before night he had a situation in the office of a tramway company, at
+a hundred gulden a month.
+
+The summer was more sultry than usual. The air in Vienna seemed
+fever-laden. The trees in Ring street no longer rustled dreamily as in
+Spring, there was a sound among their parched leaves as of a low cough.
+If a rose bloomed out in the public gardens in early morning, before
+evening it looked dry and withered, like a reveller returning from a
+masked ball; the blue Danube was as tawny as a canal, and Vienna
+reminded one more than ever of Manzanares.
+
+The theatres were deserted, the tramways overcrowded, all who could
+went out into the country. Pedestrians hugged the wall on the shady
+side of the street; the skies were one monotone of blue. The glare of
+the house-fronts made the eyes ache.
+
+The pestilent summer atmosphere of cities hung over Vienna, saturated
+with decay, and reeking with filth. A deadly epidemic broke out; in
+almost every block one met a sad litter, borne by silent sanitary
+officials.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Siegi grew weaker and more weary day by day; he coughed a little but
+never complained. Fritz consulted his old family physician who merely
+prescribed nourishing food and country air.
+
+Fritz insisted upon knowing whether any danger was to be
+apprehended--the old man remained silent, and of a sudden the father
+felt that freezing thrill that comes of touching a corpse. For the
+first time he recognized the possibility of the child's death.
+
+All his pride broke down at the thought; he wrote immediately to his
+father, unfolding to him his own need and the child's condition, and
+imploring permission to bring the boy to Schneeburg.
+
+Days passed into weeks; his letter was unanswered. He lived on
+mechanically with sufficient mental force to fulfil his duties at the
+office. He performed them slowly and with difficulty, but he was
+treated with consideration. Even had there been a way close at hand out
+of the misery he could hardly have found it now.
+
+Every morning Siegi's weak little voice sounded weaker, as he said,
+when his father left him, "Come back soon!"
+
+Why had he repaid that hundred gulden? There was no conceivable
+humiliation to which he would not gladly now have submitted could he
+but procure for Siegi the comforts that were needed! But to have to
+haggle over the price of an orange or of an ice!
+
+There were moments, when he ground his teeth, and in his heart avowed
+that he was ready and willing to beg, to steal for Siegi. But not every
+one who will, can be a rogue. Once or twice he met a 'friend' who still
+lingered in Vienna. He advanced towards him--with words of begging on
+his lips--only to be seized with a fit of trembling--no, he could
+not--he could not--it was impossible!
+
+And scarcely had his 'friend 'passed by before he cursed himself for
+his--cowardice. Weaker and weaker grew the child. Once Fritz took it to
+the Prater to amuse it. The gay music of the band, the carriages, all
+that the summer had left, in which the boy had once found such delight,
+now cut him to his little heart.
+
+They sat together upon a bench, beneath the dusty trees. The child
+looked at the throng of vehicles with eyes wide and fixed--the father
+looked at his son. "Does it amuse you? Do you like it, Siegi?" he
+asked, bending tenderly over him; the boy smiled faintly and said,
+"Yes, Papa!" But, in a few moments he leaned his tired little head
+against the father's breast and lisped, "Let us go home."
+
+Only a little while longer and Siegi could not leave his bed--and Fritz
+heard the dread word 'consumption!'
+
+He knew that it could be only a question of weeks, and sometimes said
+to himself that it would be better for the child if death would come
+quickly. But he thrust the thought from him. No, no, he yearned to hear
+as long as possible the little voice, and to stroke the thin cheek. The
+rosy childish face was wan and pinched, the arms looked like little
+brown sticks, the delicate tracery of the blue veins about the temples
+grew daily more distinct, the brow grew more like marble....
+
+Then came mornings when Fritz, going early to his office, feared that
+he should not find the child living upon his return in the evening. As
+he mounted the stairs when he came home his heart would seem to stand
+still--he would enter the room very softly. The little head would move
+on the pillow, a hoarse little voice would gasp: "Papa!" and the
+father's heart would leap for joy!
+
+It came towards the end of August--in a heavy, stifling, sultry night.
+He was alone with his child.
+
+Charlotte had retired; she could not look upon death. The heat was
+intolerable. The windows were wide open, but they looked out upon a
+court where the air was no cooler than in the sick-room. The fragrance
+of the roses and mignonette, which Fritz had brought home with him to
+perfume the air a little, floated sadly through the small room. It
+seemed as if the death struggle of the flowers mingled with the death
+struggle of the child. Siegi lay in his little bed, propped up with
+pillows. His breathing was so short and quick that it could hardly be
+counted. "Papa!" he gasped from time to time.
+
+"What, my darling? Do you want anything?"
+
+"No,--only--when are we going to Schneeburg?"
+
+"Soon, my pet--very soon!"
+
+The child became half unconscious, tossed from side to side, and
+plucked vehemently at the sheet with his emaciated little hands.
+Delirium set in, he laughed aloud, chirrupped to imaginary horses, and
+then with a thin, quavering little voice, began to sing an old French
+nursery song that his bonne had taught him:
+
+"_Il etait un petit navire_...."
+
+Poor Fritz's blood ran cold, he took the child in his arms, and clasped
+him close. The cooler air of dawn breathed through the room--the light
+of the poor candle flickered strangely. Gray shadows danced on the wall
+like phantoms--the low chirp of a bird was heard in the distance.
+
+Suddenly the flame of the candle leaped up and died out. Fritz started
+and gazed at the child--it was dead!
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X.
+
+
+The next morning Fritz received a letter from his father enclosing a
+draft for a thousand-gulden note, coupled with the old Count's cordial
+and anxious words. His son's last letter had reached him in the most
+complicated roundabout way; he had just returned from a voyage to
+Australia, and had known nothing of Fritz's unfortunate circumstances.
+
+In reply Fritz merely wrote, "The child is dead."
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+It was the afternoon after the funeral, and Fritz was all alone in the
+house. Charlotte had taken the children for a little walk; there was a
+sharp ring at his door. He rose and opened it. A white-haired old
+gentleman of distinguished mien, asked, "Is Count Malzin----"
+
+"Father!" stammered Fritz.
+
+The old man advanced a step, eagerly scanned the face that had grown
+wan and haggard almost past recognition, then opened wide his arms and
+clasped his son to his heart. All anger, all bitterness on both sides
+was forgotten.
+
+They sat down in the dim, sordid room in which Siegi had died, and
+Fritz laid bare his heart.
+
+They sat close enough to read the deep sympathy in each other's eyes,
+and to hear each other's low tones, and in the midst of his
+inconsolable grief, Fritz rejoiced in being once more with some one who
+understood him, some one to whose loving compassion he could confide
+the wretchedness of his life.
+
+He told his father everything; of his marriage, of his imprudence--of
+his misery. He soon perceived that the old Count had believed Charlotte
+to be worse than she was, and therefore had refused to acknowledge
+Siegi as his grandson.
+
+But that was all past and gone! He made his son bring out all the
+likenesses of the dead boy, and was absorbed in every detail concerning
+him; he asked endless questions, and seemed as if he would thereby fain
+have assumed a share of his son's overwhelming grief, relieving Fritz
+of it to that extent at least.
+
+At last steps were heard outside, and Charlotte entered with the
+children. Fritz winced.
+
+"Father, this is my wife."
+
+The grand old Count advanced to meet her as if she were a princess,
+called her "daughter" and kissed her forehead. He could not
+sufficiently caress and pet the children.
+
+The next morning Fritz with the children paid him a visit at the Hotel
+Munsch, and they took leave of each other with affectionate cordiality.
+
+"Of course you will come to Schneeburg with your family as soon as
+possible," the old Count said anxiously, as they parted. "You need your
+home, my poor boy."
+
+And Fritz rejoiced--in the midst of all his grief,--at the thought of
+home.
+
+They had already begun to get ready to leave Vienna, when a letter
+arrived from Schneeburg.
+
+
+"Dear Fritz,
+
+Hard as it is to write it, I must ask you not to give up your situation
+in Vienna for the present. My poor, dear boy, I can do nothing for you
+until my affairs are arranged. Only have patience and all will soon be
+well, etc...."
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+When the hoped-for arrangement was completed it was discovered that the
+old Count was penniless. In his costly expedients to raise money he had
+begun frittering away his property and then--it seemed incredible--he
+became infected with the general mania for finding millions on the
+highway, and had entangled himself in a colossal speculation in
+Australian gold mines. Conte Capriani, with whom he had become
+acquainted in Vichy, had convinced him of the certainty of gain in the
+affair. Capriani's name alone was sufficient warrant for the value of
+the stock. The old Count was made president of the company; his name
+was used to inspire the public with confidence,--his noble old name
+which he had borne so honourably for sixty-five years! The first year
+the company paid enormous dividends--out of their capital. In the
+second year matters began to look suspicious. The Conte slowly withdrew
+from the scheme--he found that certain things were different from what
+he had supposed; he had been falsely informed.... He advised the Count,
+who went to Paris to consult him, to dispose of his stock slowly
+without exciting suspicion. But the Count would not listen to anything
+of the kind. He had pledged himself to the public, his easy confidence
+had induced hundreds of men to buy the stock, he had urged many of them
+to do so thinking it was for their advantage. Among them were poor
+people, impoverished relatives, nay even old servants, his children's
+former tutors who had invested all their savings in this unfortunate
+scheme, upon his recommendation. He was beside himself, bought up as
+much of the stock as he could, and went himself to Australia to
+investigate matters. He, who in his whole life from his school-days up
+had never known anything of figures beyond what enabled him to keep the
+reckoning at whist, now ciphered and calculated, bringing all his
+powers of mind to bear upon the possibilities of profit.
+
+He found matters by no means as desperate as had been represented in
+Europe--the affair might have been made a success with prompt energetic
+management; what was needed was more capital. But the confidence of the
+stockholders was shaken; the Count upon his return to Europe tried in
+vain to issue fresh stock, he applied fruitlessly to the Conte
+Capriani, representing to him that as the originator of the entire
+speculation he was bound to help. The Conte maintained that he was
+powerless.
+
+The stock fell lower and lower, fell with bewildering rapidity.
+
+One day Fritz received a letter: "Schneeburg must be sold."
+
+The poor fellow felt as if his sore heart had been struck with a
+hammer. His sad yearning for his home was turned to a burning thirst--a
+consuming desire. He was as homesick as a peasant, nay--as a Slav.
+
+Men who live in cities and change their dwelling-place three or four
+times, never strike root anywhere, and consequently can have no
+conception of the homesickness that attacks a man who is separated from
+the soil upon which he and his ancestors for generations have been born
+and bred. A man thus bred has become acclimated like a plant, to this
+special air, this special soil, and however long the years of absence,
+wherever he may have lived meanwhile, he will always yearn for 'home.'
+
+Fritz had caught a cold upon leaving Wipling street, at the same time
+that Siegi had been taken with the illness that ended in his death.
+Fritz recovered, but his health was shattered, his voice was husky, and
+h" had feverish nights which in spite of weariness were wakeful. For
+hours he would pace the wretched room where stood Siegi's empty little
+bed, which he had not brought himself to have removed, and would
+conjure up visions of Schneeburg.
+
+Sell Schneeburg! In his pain at this fresh blow he forgot for a moment
+his grief for his child. Memories of 'home' thronged about him with a
+vividness that savoured of mental hallucination. He saw the morning sun
+glitter in the dewy moss that lay green on the thatched roofs of the
+village, he saw the very puddles before the houses wherein the swine
+wallowed, and a flock of fowls scratching on a muck-heap, and a group
+of shivering children cowering beneath the cross before the smithy.
+
+He saw the pond in the middle of the village; the little dusky waves
+swelled and rippled beneath the nipping wind of autumn and a single
+rugged elm cast its long reflection across the broken surface. He saw
+the soft black soil on the edge of the pond stamped with countless
+impressions of webbed feet. He saw the geese themselves, hissing and
+flapping their wings while the sunlight played upon the rough pink
+surface of their plucked breasts. Thatched roofs, swine, and geese had
+certainly never interested him much--these detailed impressions had
+been made upon his mind all unconsciously--they belonged to the whole.
+
+He saw long transparent wreaths of mist like ghostly shrouds, floating
+above the freshly-ploughed fields, and the crows flapping above the
+brown leafless trees, in gloomy processions, mourners for the dead
+summer,--a dun-coloured cow was standing between two gnarled
+apple-trees by the way-side, looking inquisitively out of her dark-blue
+glazed eyes.
+
+The pictures grew confused, and again distinct. He saw the park with
+its broad emerald meadows where the venerable trees grew in large dense
+clumps. He knew the voice of every single tree, the rustle of the oak
+differed from the murmur of the copper-beech; he knew the very tree
+which would turn orange-coloured in autumn, which one only yellow,
+edged with black, and which one dark crimson. They stirred their grand
+old heads and broke into a chant; it sounded like a magnificent choral
+through the still autumn air, while single leaves, frosted with dew, as
+with delicate molten silver, loosed their hold and sank slowly
+fluttering down upon the grass.
+
+And the kitchen garden, that Paradise of childhood, with its hoary
+apricot-trees, whose mellow fruit always dropped on the old-fashioned
+sage beds. Ah, what fruit it was, so big, and so yellow, and so juicy!
+
+Then he laughed softly at something that had happened twenty years
+before, and--waking from his visions, and his reverie, passed his hand
+across his brow. Where was he? Sitting in the room of a miserable
+lodging-house, beside the empty little bed of his dead child.
+
+He lay down very weary. The last thing that he saw distinctly before
+falling asleep was a large circle of red gravel in front of Schneeburg
+Castle, furrowed with delicate ruts. These ruts formed the figure of
+eight--the first figure of eight which he, a boy of fifteen, had drawn
+in the gravel with his father's four-in-hand--the delicate fragrance,
+not perceptible to every one, of wild strawberries floated past him,
+and then all faded. Sleep compassionately laid her hand upon his heart
+and brain. He slept the sleep of the dead for a couple of hours, and
+the next morning his torture began afresh.
+
+He could have wandered barefoot like a beggar to Schneeburg, only to be
+able to fling himself down on that dear earth, and kiss the very soil
+of his home.
+
+The sale was long in concluding,--purchasers chaffered as usual, when
+in treaty for an impoverished estate. There were fears that it would be
+brought to the hammer. But in the spring Capriani appeared and offered
+a price for Schneeburg which was at least sufficient to cover the
+Count's indebtedness. His lawyer urged the old man not to delay
+accepting this offer, but Siegfried Malzin still hesitated. For three
+days he wandered about Schneeburg like one distraught, then he began to
+yield conditionally, but all conditions vanished before Capriani's
+energy. Malzin lost his head, and made many injudicious concessions. He
+sold with the estate very many valuable articles that he ought to have
+kept for himself. He forgot everything--and as a man at a fire will
+finally rescue in triumph an old umbrella, and a child's toy, so he
+rescued from his property, in addition to the family vault, which from
+the first he insisted upon keeping, nothing, save--the stuffed charger
+which stood in the hall, and which a Malzin had bestridden on the
+occasion of the liberation of Vienna by Sobiesky.
+
+The morning after the deed of sale had been signed, the former
+possessor of Schneeburg was found dead in his bed--heart-disease had
+delivered him from misery.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+On one and the same day Fritz heard of the sale of Schneeburg and of
+his father's death;--he was crushed.
+
+Capriani had a weakness for taking into his service impoverished men of
+rank. They worked but indifferently well, as he knew; but nevertheless
+he preferred to employ them. He paid them well, and treated them
+cruelly.
+
+One day he offered Fritz the post of private secretary. To the
+astonishment, nay, to the horror, of all his friends, Fritz accepted
+the position.
+
+On a cool evening in May he took possession with his wife and children
+of the little cottage on the borders of the park, close to the kitchen
+garden, and a sense of delight mingled with pain, thrilled through him,
+as he hurried along the paths of the dear old home that now belonged to
+another.
+
+He had to warn his children not to run on the grass, not to pull the
+flowers, and upon his own land!--yes, his own by right--he never could
+appreciate that this land had ceased forever to be his.
+
+He could not look upon Capriani except as a temporary usurper. He could
+not but believe in counter revolutions--what was to bring them about he
+could not tell.
+
+Sometimes when he suddenly came upon old Miller, his former nurse who
+had found an asylum with him, he would say: "Miller, do you remember
+this--or that?" and upon her "yes, Count," he would smile languidly.
+
+All the fire, all the impetuosity of his nature was extinct.
+
+Sometimes he roused himself to feel that it was his bounden duty to do
+something to reinstate his son in his rights. But what?
+
+Conte Capriani, to be sure, had begun life with a single gulden in his
+pocket, but that was quite a different thing. It was not for Fritz
+Malzin to enter the lists with the stock-jobber, who knew so well how
+to keep just within the letter of the law.
+
+And so he continued to live, sadly resigned, dreaming of old times,
+hoping for wonderful strokes of fortune that never took shape. All the
+while he indulged in visions, and every evening, when he laid his
+cards for Patience he consulted them, always asking the self-same
+question--"Will Schneeburg ever revert to my children?"
+
+
+
+
+
+                              BOOK THIRD.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+A jingling of bells, a clatter of hoofs from five spirited bays
+harnessed in Russian fashion, and hardly seeming to touch the earth as
+they fly along, a rattle of wheels, a whirling cloud of dust,--and
+Oswald Lodrin's five-in-hand came sweeping round a corner in one of the
+old-fashioned streets in Rautschin. People ran from everywhere to
+stare,--a housemaid cleaning a window, leaned out at the risk of her
+neck, to follow the gay equipage; two small boys going home from
+school, paused and vented their delight in waving their caps and
+cheering; Oswald nodded to them kindly. His eyes were aglow with
+happiness, he had a white rosebud in his button-hole. His future
+father-in-law sat beside him in the driver's seat, and Georges was on
+the seat behind.
+
+It was the day before the election. Oswald had just come from Castle
+Rautschin, where, according to agreement, he was to pick up his uncle
+to drive with him to the railway station, and he had taken this
+opportunity to display his new five-in-hand to his betrothed. The five
+horses clattered along gaily, as if to the races, instead of to a
+railway station.
+
+"We must hurry, there is the signal," said Georges half rising from his
+seat, to gaze in the direction of the station.
+
+"Don't be afraid," rejoined Oswald, "it is an Express, to be sure, but
+if it sees us coming, it will wait!"
+
+"True! I forgot we were in Austria," said Georges laughing.
+
+The bays flew like birds along the avenue of ancient poplars. The
+sun shone on their trim, plain harness, upon their glossy hides;
+white and blue butterflies were fluttering above the earliest
+wayside-flowers. A few minutes later Oswald drew up before the station,
+built Austrian-wise, after the ugly fashion of a Swiss cottage.
+
+"Sapristi! He too is going to the election," exclaimed Georges, as he
+observed Capriani's equipage.
+
+"You may be very sure he will not hide his light under a bushel,"
+grumbled Truyn.
+
+"And I quite forgot to have a railway coupe reserved for us. Did you
+remember it, uncle?" asked Oswald.
+
+Time passed. Oswald's servant hurried off to get the tickets, and when
+the gentlemen went to take their places, they found that there were but
+two first-class coupe's, one occupied by a lady with her invalid
+daughter, the other by the Caprianis, father and son. What was to be
+done? It was most vexatious; the three gentlemen, with their servants
+bearing portmanteaux and dust-coats, the station master and the
+conductor, all stood on the platform in consultation, while the train
+patiently waited.
+
+The third signal whistled, Conte Capriani appeared at the door of his
+coupe with a smile of invitation.
+
+Georges calmly shifted his cigar from one corner to the other of his
+mouth.
+
+"Better open an empty second-class for us," said Truyn frowning.
+
+"I have none quite empty," the conductor explained; "but this gentleman
+will get out at the third station."
+
+"It is the cattle-dealer from Kamnitz," whispered Oswald with a little
+grimace, after glancing through the window of the coupe. But it made no
+difference to his uncle who immediately sprang in and took his seat,
+followed by the young men. What if the man were a cattle-dealer? Truyn
+remembered having seen him before, and at once entered into
+conversation with him upon the price of meat, a conversation in which
+Oswald, remarkably well up as he always was in all agricultural
+matters, took part. The cattle-dealer alighted at his destination,
+greatly impressed by the affability of the noblemen, and convinced that
+all he had heard of their arrogance was false.
+
+"If the coupe only did not smell so insufferably of warm leather!"
+exclaimed Truyn after the dealer's departure, "and ugh! the man's cigar
+was positively--"
+
+"It often happens now-a-days," interposed Georges, "that a gentleman is
+forced to travel second-class to avoid a stock-jobber. The question in
+my mind is, when will our civilization be so far advanced that the
+stock-jobber will travel second-class to avoid one of us."
+
+"We shall never live to see that," said Oswald.
+
+"The insolence of those people waxes gigantic," said Georges.
+
+"It is our own fault; if we had not danced hand-in-hand with them
+before the golden calf, they would not now be so presuming," observed
+Truyn, "remember --73."
+
+"Hm,--our worship of that idol showed simplicity, to say the least,"
+remarked Georges, "the golden calf returned so much gratitude for our
+homage."
+
+"So much gratitude," growled Truyn. "I did not share in the worship,
+but I do in the disgrace!--But enough of that! Can Capriani vote? He
+has not owned Schneeburg for a year yet."
+
+"No, but has he not another estate in Northern Bohemia?" asked Georges.
+
+"You are right, he has," said Truyn. "I suppose he will vote with the
+Liberals."
+
+"In all probability!" replied Oswald. "_Tous les republicains ne sont
+pas canaille, mais toute la canaille est republicaine_."
+
+"I do not think that Capriani openly ranks among the Liberals,"
+remarked Georges, "I know of a certainty that not long ago he placed
+large sums of money for charitable purposes at the disposal of several
+ladies of the Faubourg St. Germain."
+
+"That was when he was a candidate for the Jockey Club," rejoined
+Oswald. "I heard about that. Ever since he was black-balled there, he
+sings a different song. He is organizing Liberal schools at Schneeburg,
+and has a great deal to do with universal enlightenment."
+
+"Confound universal enlightenment!" railed Truyn.
+
+Oswald shrugged his shoulders, "I should not shed a tear for it," said
+he, "in the first ardour of my charitable schemes I took some interest
+in it, but I soon detected the wretched business, masked by that
+high-sounding phrase;--it means universal distribution of rancid scraps
+of learning sure to provoke an indigestion which as surely will develop
+into an enlargement of the spleen. That kind of knowledge never widens
+the horizon of the masses--it does nothing, except pick holes in their
+illusions."
+
+"Widen the horizon--pretty stuff that!" said Truyn, the reactionary.
+"In my opinion a contracted horizon is the condition of happiness for
+the masses."
+
+"My dear fellow, if you attempt to advocate such views ...." began
+Georges, half laughing, half indignant.
+
+"My views, remember," interrupted Truyn, "are the result of years of
+experience; I have lived here all my life, and know the people better
+than any freshly imported Herr Capriani, blown hither, Heaven only
+knows whence. What we want is a contented, well-fed, warmly-clad
+people, that will play merrily with the children on Saturday evening,
+go piously to church on Sunday morning, and not discuss too much on
+Sunday afternoon."
+
+"Yes, of course," assented Georges. "What you want, first and foremost,
+is a people that won't disturb your peaceful enjoyment of life. There's
+no denying that."
+
+"I am perfectly open to conviction," asserted Truyn with dignity. "As
+soon as you prove to me that these disturbers of the public peace
+promote the happiness of the masses, I will ground arms before them."
+
+"Happiness!--I don't believe that those people care as much as they
+pretend for the happiness of the masses," said Oswald, looking up from
+his note-book in which he had begun to scribble rapidly. "Happiness is
+conservative--they would gain nothing from that. As far as I can see,
+all they want is to rouse the discontent of the people by constant
+irritation," and he turned to his note-book again. His scribbling did
+not seem to run as smoothly as before.
+
+"There you are right," agreed Truyn. "Their aim is to arouse the
+discontent of the people--the discontent of the masses is the tool of
+their entire party, and they will go on sharpening it until some fine
+day they'll cut their fingers off with it, and serve them right."
+
+"Decry the degenerate portion of the species as much as you choose,"
+replied Georges, "you cannot but acknowledge that modern democracy has
+been of immense service to mankind."
+
+"_Verite de monsieur de La Palisse_," muttered Oswald, without looking
+up.
+
+"Don't talk to me of your 'modern democracy,' I made its acquaintance
+in France--this 'modern democracy' of yours," thundered Truyn in a
+rage. He drew a deep, shuddering breath, lighted a cigar and gazed out
+of the coupe-window, apparently to allay his political anxiety by the
+sight of his dearly-loved fatherland.
+
+He did not succeed, however, for before a minute had passed, he turned
+to Georges again and exclaimed angrily, "How delightful to contemplate
+the next generation; what a charming prospect! A people all ignorant
+atheists. I ask no severer punishment for the agitators who have
+wrought the mischief in this generation, than to be obliged to govern
+the next.
+
+"I suppose they themselves would desire nothing better," said Oswald
+smiling.
+
+"That's perfectly true; all they are struggling for, is power,"
+muttered Truyn.
+
+"Excuse me, my dear friend; but what are you struggling for?" asked
+Georges.
+
+"What are _we_ struggling for," repeated Truyn, looking at him
+compassionately, "what are we struggling for?--I will tell you;--for
+the Emperor and our fatherland, which means for order and justice,
+for the dignity of the throne, for the sanctity of home, for the
+fostering of beauty and nobility, for all the wealth of human
+achievement which we have inherited from the past, and ought to
+bequeath to the future--in a word, Georges,--we are protecting
+civilization."
+
+"Bursts of applause from the Right--aha--congratulations to the orator
+from the Left!" said Georges laughing, then turning to Oswald who was
+still scribbling, he observed, "I rather think you have been taking
+short-hand notes of your uncle's speech. We will send them to Otto
+Ilsenbergh, he will be delighted."
+
+"Nonsense!" said Oswald. "I am composing a telegram."
+
+"In verse?" Georges asked innocently.
+
+"Georges! As head of the family I desire to be treated with more
+respect," said Oswald, laughing.
+
+"Oh, it occurred to me, only because you were making so many
+corrections," rejoined Georges.
+
+"The thing is quite difficult--it must be so worded that Gabrielle
+shall understand it,--and the telegraph operators shall not; I cannot
+manage it."
+
+"Suppose you refresh your powers with a glass of sherry," proposed
+Georges, taking down an appetizing lunch-basket from the rack above his
+head, and drawing forth a bottle and three wine-glasses.
+
+The wine had a decidedly soporific effect upon the three travellers.
+Truyn's political excitement was soothed, and after drinking to a
+better future, all three leaned back in silence.
+
+Truyn pondered upon the shy, timid confession that his wife had made to
+him that morning early, very early, as they were sauntering together in
+the park, while the sun's first slant rays were breaking through the
+shrubbery, and the morning-dew was still glittering on the meadows.
+"The whole earth seems bathed in tears of delicious joy," his young
+wife had whispered, and then through her own happy tears she had begged
+him to give her a 'really large sum' from her own money that she might
+make some of the poor people on the estate happy too.
+
+Gradually his thoughts wandered, and grew vague; the sounds of railway
+bells, and the shrill whistle of the engine, the grating voices of
+conductors, and the monotonous whirr of wheels mingled, subsided, and
+died away; his latest impressions faded, and, instead of the green park
+of Rautschin, a dim Roman street rises upon his mental vision, with a
+procession of masked torch-bearers accompanying a coffin;--the picture
+changes, the Roman street is transformed to a lofty hall so tragically
+solemn that the sunbeams lose their smile as they enter the high
+windows and glide pale and wan through the twilight gloom to die at the
+feet of ancient statues. He looks about him, lost in surprise and
+wondering where is he?--in the tomb of the Medici?--or among the
+monuments of the melancholy gray church of Santa Croce? No, he suddenly
+recollects it is the Bargello, and yon white marble, that gleams
+through the dim religious light in such lifelike, or rather deathlike,
+beauty, revealing, as it lies outstretched, such clear-cut, nay, such
+sharp outlines, and the noble attenuation of youth, eager and fiery, is
+Michael Angelo's 'dead Adonis,' the ideal embodiment of the springtime
+of manhood crushed in its bloom. Anon vapour curls upward, and the
+crimson flicker of torches plays over the white statue, the masked
+torch-bearers stand around it, a wailing chant echoes through the
+hall--who is it lying there listlessly, with the ineffable charm of a
+fair young form, which death has suddenly snatched, before the poison
+of disease has wasted and deformed it?--
+
+Truyn started, broad awake, every pulse throbbing.--Merciful God! how
+could he dream anything so horrible! Oswald sat opposite, with eyes
+half-closed, an extinguished cigarette in his hand. His face wore the
+expression of absolute content which is so often strangely seen on the
+face of the dead and which none except the dead ever wear, save the
+few, who, by God's grace, have been permitted to behold Heaven upon
+earth. Truyn could not away with a sensation of painful anxiety.
+
+"For Heaven's sake, Ossi, open your eyes!" he exclaimed.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Oswald.
+
+"Nothing," said Truyn, "only...." at that moment the train stopped.
+
+"Pemik!" shouted the conductor, "ten minute's stop," and then opening
+the coupe door he politely informed the travellers that another coupe
+was now at their service.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+Pernik is the junction of several railway lines, trains coming from two
+separate watering-places connect here with trains from Prague, and set
+free the travellers who have tried the virtue of the various baths.
+Ladies with faded faces, and bouquets of faded flowers, were wandering
+about looking for hand-bags gone astray or for waiting-maids, men were
+busily munching, glad to forget over their first sandwich, the dietetic
+limitations to which they had been forced to submit while undergoing a
+course of the baths; locomotives were hissing and puffing like monsters
+out of breath after a race; the sunshine glittered on the flat roofs of
+the railway-carriages, the whole atmosphere reeked with coal-dust, and
+hot iron; there was the usual bustle of hand-cars piled with luggage
+pushed along the rails, of the shifting of cars on the tracks, and of
+vendors of fresh water and Pernik beer, with newspaper boys loudly
+extolling their various wares.
+
+Escorted by the obsequious conductor, and followed by the servants, the
+three conservatives were making their way through the hurly-burly when
+they nearly ran against a young man, who, with his hands in the pockets
+of his rough coat, was striding through the crowd, never turning to the
+right or the left, in a line as straight as that of the railway between
+St. Petersburg and Moscow.
+
+"Pistasch!" exclaimed Oswald.
+
+"Ah, I thought I should meet you somewhere."
+
+All began to talk at once, when suddenly Pistasch turned, and said,
+"Good-day!" to Conte Capriani, who was coming towards him with extended
+hand, and an air of great cordiality.
+
+Oswald and Truyn held themselves very erect, looked straight before
+them, and, passing Pistasch and Capriani, entered their coupe.
+
+"I do not understand Kamenz," said Truyn, after they had installed
+themselves comfortably, and Georges had called from the window for a
+glass of Pernik beer. Oswald, his elbows propped on the frame of his
+window, was taking a prolonged observation of the interview between
+Capriani and Pistasch Kamenz.
+
+The third bell rang--the speculator and the nobleman shook hands and
+separated; then Pistasch approached the coupe where sat the three
+conservatives, and asked, "Any room in there for me?"
+
+"Room enough, but we're not sure that we ought to let you come with us,
+you renegade!" said Oswald, unlatching the coupe door. "Are you too
+going to Prague for the election?"
+
+"No," said Pistach lazily, "not if I know it, in this heat. I am going
+to the races--but I shall vote."
+
+"Such indifference, nowadays, is culpable," said Truyn gravely. "This
+is a serious time."
+
+"Bah! it is all one to me, who goes to the Reichsrath;--moreover,
+whoever he may be, he exists principally for the benefit of the
+newspapers," replied Pistasch apathetically.
+
+Only a few years previously, Truyn himself had defined the Reichsrath,
+as a 'circus for political acrobats'--but his political views were now
+daily gaining in consistency.
+
+An interest in politics is usually aroused in men of his stamp, when
+they are between forty and fifty years of age--at a time when the taste
+for champagne begins to yield to that for claret. Almost all men are
+thus aroused at two different periods of life; in early youth and in
+late middle age.
+
+That which ten years before Truyn had ridiculed, was now invested for
+him with a sacred earnestness.
+
+"We must be true to our convictions for our country's sake!" he
+exclaimed.
+
+"Has any one really any convictions,--political ones I mean?" asked
+Pistasch, "my conviction is that it is all up with us, but the country
+will last as long as I shall--after that I take no interest in it."
+
+"And is this your latest creed?" asked Truyn indignantly.
+
+"It is a very time-honoured creed, uncle," said Georges, "if I am not
+mistaken it was the fundamental article of faith of that lugubrious
+Solomon in a full-bottomed wig, who played such unholy pranks in
+France, under Voltaire's reign. '_Apres nous le deluge!_'"
+
+"Louis Fifteenth, do you mean?" asked Truyn.
+
+But Pistasch observed, "You have become fearfully erudite while you
+have been abroad, Georges. I fancy you are preparing to apply for a
+professorship of history, in the event of the social cataclysm that
+seems at hand."
+
+All the while the train is rushing onwards, past pastures seamed by
+narrow ditches, past turnip-fields, past villages with ragged thatched
+roofs, and tumble-down picket fences upon which red and blue garments
+are hanging to dry, while lolling over them are sunflowers, with yellow
+haloes encircling their black velvet faces. Nowhere is there a trace of
+romantic exuberance, everything tells of sober, practical thrift.
+
+A white, dusty road winds among slender plum-trees, and along it is
+jolting a small waggon, drawn by a pair of thirsty dogs, their tongues
+hanging from their mouths; a labourer, half through his swath in a
+clover-field, fascinated by the whizzing train, stops mowing and stares
+with open mouth and eyes.
+
+Truyn has become absorbed in the contents of 'The Press' which he holds
+stretched wide in both hands. Oswald, Georges, and Pistasch have
+improvised a table out of a wrap laid across their knees, and are
+indulging in a game of cards.
+
+"What's the news, uncle?" Oswald asked as he shuffled the cards.
+
+"The authorities have forbidden the importation of rags at any Austrian
+port; and a Jew has been butchered somewhere in Russia," Pistasch
+replied incontinently. Truyn paid no heed to Oswald's question but all
+at once he dropped the newspaper.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked the young men.
+
+"Wips Seinsberg has died suddenly!" said Truyn.
+
+"Poor devil!" said Oswald, with about as much sympathy as we feel for
+people not particularly congenial. "He was a good fellow, but somewhat
+vacillating! Ever since his marriage I have seen very little of him."
+
+"Was he married?" asked Truyn, who, during his stay abroad, had lost
+sight of Wips Seinsberg.
+
+"He married into trade," Oswald said curtly.
+
+It is odd; elsewhere the daughters of tradesmen marry into the
+nobility;--in Austria the sons of the nobility marry into trade!
+
+"Into trade?" Truyn repeated slowly, and interrogatively.
+
+"What did he die of?" asked Pistasch.
+
+"It does not say," replied Truyn re-reading the notice in the
+newspaper.
+
+"Hm!--that looks suspicious," said Pistasch.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III.
+
+
+The election is over. Pistasch has shaken hands with all the
+middle-class land-owners, and has done wonders with that haughty
+condescension of his wherewith he was wont to charm the hearts of such
+people. Truyn has been enlightened by his political friends as to the
+state of Bohemian affairs, and Oswald has been cordially congratulated
+by every one. He is one of those universally popular men before whom
+even envy and malice lower their weapons. His career has been hitherto
+like the triumphal march of a young king--let him but appear, and lo!
+an illumination, and flowers strewed before him.
+
+After the election Truyn went to dine at the chief restaurant in
+Prague with some friends whom he had met for the first time for
+years;--Georges, Pistasch, and Oswald with the indifference of youth
+took their lunch at 'The Black Horse,' whither they went from the
+station. Then Georges departed to revive old associations in various
+quarters of ancient Prague. Oswald's father had been wont to pass his
+winters in Vienna, but his younger, poorer brother had his winter
+quarters in the comparatively humble Moldavian town. Georges looked up
+the confectioner who had been his first creditor, wandered dreamily
+through the gray precincts of the public school where he had studied
+for two years, after his tutors could do nothing more for him, walked
+across the picturesque Carl's bridge to the Lesser-town, the hoary old
+Lesser-town, the home of the aristocracy of Prague, cowering in pious
+veneration at the feet of the Kaiserburg, like a grey-haired child who
+still believes in fairy stories. There, in one of the angular,
+irregular squares, just opposite two tall narrow church windows, stood
+the small palace where Georges passed his boyhood, and which his father
+finally sold to a wealthy vinegar manufacturer. He scarcely recognised
+it again. The old stucco ornamentation had been painted a staring red;
+and a dealer in hams and sausages had his shop in the lower story.
+
+"_Tempera mutantur!_" muttered Georges.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+In a spacious room, tolerably cool, the shades all drawn down, the
+furniture consisting of dim misty mirrors in shabby gilt frames, of
+cupboards with brass hinges, and of green velvet chairs and sofas,
+Oswald lay back, in an arm-chair, laughing heartily at Pistasch's
+account of a late adventure.
+
+Pistasch went to one of the three windows, and drawing the shade half
+up looked out into the street.
+
+The front of 'The Black Horse' looks out on the _Graben_, the _Corso_
+of Prague.
+
+All whom cruel fate had compelled to remain in town during the
+intolerable heat of the season, were lounging about in the late
+afternoon upon the heated pavement of the square.
+
+Students with the genuine High-German swagger, over-dressed misses,
+round-shouldered government clerks, a wretched poodle scratching at his
+muzzle, an officer with jingling sabre, hack drivers, dozing peacefully
+on their boxes while their horses, with forelegs wide apart and heads
+in their nose-bags, dreamed of the 'good old times' when they caracoled
+beneath the spurs of gay young cavalry officers,--those 'good old
+times' whose chief charm for hack horses as for mortals, may perhaps
+consist in the fact that they are irrevocably past.
+
+The sultry heat beats down on all, debilitating, oppressive.
+
+"How long have you known that Capriani," Oswald asked his light-hearted
+friend, after a pause.
+
+"I really cannot tell you," was the reply, "he once did me a favour
+without knowing me, except by sight, and then--then he came to me one
+day with some trifling affairs that he desired I should arrange for
+him, and referred to the former kindness he had shown me."
+
+"And ever since then you have been upon friendly terms with him?"
+
+"Not quite all that," replied Pistasch, shrugging his shoulders, "but
+what would you have? He consults me about his horses--his ambition is
+to win at the Derby;--and I consult him about my investments, the
+purchase of stock, etc."
+
+"And each overreaches the other?" said Oswald, smiling.
+
+"Up to this time I have the advantage," affirmed Pistasch, "and I have
+a prospect too, of a sinecure as the President of the Gruenwald-Leebach
+stock company."
+
+"With which of course you will have nothing to do except to inspire the
+public with confidence, and rake in money," said Oswald.
+
+"Incidentally," Pistasch rejoined calmly.
+
+Oswald drummed upon the arms of his chair, sitting erect, and looking
+very grave.
+
+"Take care, Pistasch; 'those who lie down with dogs, are sure to get up
+with fleas.'"
+
+"You are a reactionary martinet," growled Pistasch. "Am I the first to
+associate with speculators? Barenfeld, Calmonsky, Hermsdorf--are all
+men very different from myself, but you see their names at the head of
+all kinds of banks and stock companies."
+
+"Unfortunately;" said Oswald, "that charlatan of a Capriani has
+infected you all--you all want to learn from that gentleman the secret
+of manufacturing gold. But you will learn nothing, and will inevitably
+all burn your fingers. I should think you might take warning from poor
+old Count Malzin."
+
+"Oh, Malzin was such an unpractical man, he looked at everything from
+an ideal point of view," replied Pistasch.
+
+"So much the better!" exclaimed Oswald eagerly. "That was why
+throughout the whole business it was his property alone that was
+sacrificed. You cannot imagine the harm done by this dabbling in
+speculation. It undermines our whole social order. We are at best not
+much else than romantic ruins. So long as the ruins can succeed in
+inspiring the public with respect, just so long they may remain
+standing. But let them once lose their prestige, and they will be
+regarded as useless rubbish, and as such be cleared away as soon as
+possible. What preserves us is a strict sense of honour, and a
+contempt for ignoble methods of money getting. Pride without a
+chivalric back-ground is but a shabby characteristic, and if ...."
+
+Some one knocked at the door, and the waiter entering handed Oswald a
+visiting-card.
+
+"_Le comte_ Alfred de Capriani," read Oswald, "it must be for you," he
+said contemptuously, without noticing the few words written under the
+name, as he tossed the card to Pistasch.
+
+"No," said the latter, "it is for you--look there--read,--'begs Count
+Lodrin for a brief interview.'"
+
+"Extraordinary presumption!" grumbled Oswald, and then, with a shrug,
+he told the waiter to show the Conte in.
+
+"You consent to receive him?" asked Pistasch.
+
+"Good Heavens, yes!" replied Oswald, smiling, "he has just done me a
+kindness, my dear Pistasch, and has come for his pay. There are people
+who play the usurer with their kindnesses as well as with their money.
+I will tell you the story by-and-by."
+
+"Very well. Adieu, for the present; in half an hour I'll come and take
+you to the theatre;--she's not bad,--Giuletta as _Gretchen_."
+
+And Pistasch departed; a minute afterward Capriani entered the room.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+There are two ways of manifesting haughtiness,--that of Count Pistasch,
+and that of Oswald. If Pistasch had to receive an obnoxious visitor, he
+kept his cigar in his mouth, and his hands in his pockets;--Oswald, on
+the other hand, at such times observed the most marked and the most
+frigid politeness.
+
+He received Capriani with a slight inclination of the head, and the
+conventional form of greeting, invited him to be seated, and took a
+chair opposite, naturally supposing that the Conte, with business-like
+promptitude, would immediately begin to speak of the purpose of his
+visit;--but no!--the Conte remained mute, only rivetting his large eyes
+upon the young man. Why should Oswald find those eyes so annoying? How
+came it that he seemed to have seen them before in some familiar face?
+There was nothing bad in them--on the contrary at that moment they
+expressed only intense admiration, an expression, however, by no means
+to Oswald's taste. There might be reasons why he should condescend to
+discuss business-matters with Conte Capriani, but he thought it
+entirely unnecessary to subject himself to the Conte's admiration. He
+therefore broke the silence.
+
+"You have done me a great favour," he began drily, "I shall be glad to
+show my gratitude for it."
+
+"Ah, such a trifle is not worth mentioning," said Capriani. "I was
+exceedingly delighted to have a chance to testify the cordial regard
+that I have always entertained for you."
+
+"Quite insane," thought the young man. Then aloud. "I confess that this
+regard is rather incomprehensible to me,--moreover,--I believe you
+wished to speak with me upon business."
+
+"Certainly!" replied Capriani, "but the business was merely a
+pretext,--imagine it,--a pretext for me,--a business-man _par
+excellence_--to obtain an opportunity of conveying my personal
+sentiments ...."
+
+"The obtrusiveness of these creatures passes all belief," thought
+Oswald. "I beg you," he said, "to take into consideration the fact that
+my time is,----unfortunately, not at my own disposal, and that
+consequently it would be well to come to the point. I think I can guess
+the purpose of your visit. Count Malzin informed me not long ago of
+your wishes. They are, so I understand, that I should give my support
+in an application to the government for a railway franchise, or rather
+that the plan of the railway, already projected, should be modified to
+meet your requirements--am I right?"
+
+"A trifle,--a trifle," said Capriani taking a compendious map of
+Bohemia out of his pocket and spreading it out upon the table between
+Oswald and himself. "The projected track lies here--and here," he
+explained drawing his finger along the map.
+
+With something of a frown Oswald attentively followed the course of
+that pudgy, sallow forefinger, saying in an undertone, "Pernik,
+Zwilnek, Minkau,--that track seems to me entirely to conform to the
+present pressing need of the country,--will you now show me the
+alterations that you desire."
+
+Capriani's forefinger began to move again, "Tesin, Schneeburg,
+Barenfeld."
+
+Oswald's face grew dark. "That track would be very disadvantageous for
+the X---- district," he observed.
+
+"You have estates in X----" said Capriani hastily, and imprudently.
+Cautious and diplomatic as he was in business, his caution could go no
+further than his comprehension of human nature. The circle of his
+experience had hitherto comprised only those human weaknesses in
+manipulating which he had always shown such consummate skill. He had no
+faith in genuine disinterestedness; he held it to be hypocrisy, or, at
+best, only traditional habit,--aristocratic usage. He had no idea of
+how his words grated upon Oswald's sensitive ear. "You have estates in
+X----, Herr Count."
+
+Oswald's lips curled indignantly. "That seems to me a secondary
+consideration," he rejoined sharply.
+
+"Not at all," asserted Capriani, "I would not for the world run counter
+to your interests, I have them almost as near at heart as my own...."
+
+"That really is...." Oswald began to mutter angrily between his
+teeth,--and then controlling his impatience by an effort, he said
+coldly, lightly tapping the map as he spoke. "A little while ago you
+did me a favour, and it would be a satisfaction to me to testify my
+appreciation of your courtesy as soon as possible, but I think your
+projected alteration of the railway very disadvantageous for the
+country. However, I am quite ready to consult an expert."
+
+The blood of the Cr[oe]sus tingled to his very finger ends. There
+was something profoundly humiliating in Oswald's pale proud face. He
+did not comprehend the young man's moral point of view, he perceived
+only the haughtiness that rang in his words, and it aroused his
+antagonism. Suddenly he remembered,--and there was a kind of bliss in
+the thought,--the pecuniary embarrassments in which Oswald was probably
+involved. This was the only ground upon which he could show
+superiority, and make the young man aware of it. "Consult an expert? an
+empty formality!" he said in a changed, harsh voice.
+
+"Let us be frank--the interests of the country in this whole affair are
+of very little consequence--private interests are at stake--yours and
+mine; I grant that the X---- district will be damaged by the new track,
+but on the other hand Tornow wilt gain immensely. And such trifles are
+not to be despised even by a Count Lodrin,--the track passes
+principally over very unproductive land in your estates my dear Count.
+You have only to name your price for that land, and I am entirely at
+your service."
+
+For a moment there was absolute silence. An angry gleam flashed from
+Oswald's eyes as he fixed them on the Conte.
+
+The ticking of the two men's watches could almost be heard, the
+lounging steps of the passers-by in the street below were distinctly
+audible. At last Oswald said contemptuously and clearly: "The sale of
+my pastures is not of the slightest importance to me in comparison with
+public interests. Moreover, we, you and I, do not speak the same
+language, we might talk together a long time and fail to understand
+each other. Therefore it seems useless to prolong this conversation."
+With which he arose.
+
+Capriani, however, did not stir, but calmly returned the young man's
+look. Something like triumphant scorn, something that was almost a
+menace shone in his eyes.
+
+"You refuse then to speak a word to the ministry in favour of my
+scheme?" he asked slowly and with a sneer.
+
+"Decidedly," replied Oswald.
+
+With head slightly thrown back, twisting his watch chain around his
+forefinger, he looked down at the Cr[oe]sus. He was one of the few to
+whom haughtiness is becoming.
+
+Was it possible that Capriani, the least imaginative, the most
+avaricious of men, could succumb to this personal charm?
+
+The Conte suddenly arose, gathered up the map, crushed it together, and
+dashing it on the floor, stamped on it. "I could carry it out, and it
+is my favourite scheme," he cried, "but what of that, I give it up,
+Alfred Stein can do as he chooses. I throw away millions for your sake!
+For your sake, Count Oswald!"
+
+His agitation was terrible and extreme, as he held out both hands to
+the young man.
+
+Oswald angrily retreated a step. Had the man escaped from a lunatic
+asylum?
+
+Just then the door opened.
+
+"Well, Ossi?" Pistasch called.--"Ah!"--perceiving the Conte--"beg
+pardon for intruding."
+
+"Not at all," said Oswald decisively, without looking at Capriani, "we
+have finished."
+
+The Conte bowed and withdrew. But he turned in the doorway and said,
+"Might I beg you, Herr Count, to carry my remembrances to your honoured
+mother. For although she does not know Conte Capriani--she will surely
+be able to recall Doctor Alfred Stein." Whereupon he disappeared.
+
+Oswald went to a marble table whereon stood a caraffe of water, and as
+he took it up he met his own glance in the mirror hanging above the
+table. A shudder crept icily over him. He poured out a glass of water,
+and drank it at a draught.
+
+"What is the matter?" asked Pistasch.
+
+"Nothing," Oswald replied slowly, and almost dreamily. "Talking with
+that--that scoundrel has agitated me. I feel as if I had just got rid
+of some loathsome reptile."
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+"Is smoking allowed, I should like to know?"
+
+Three times Pistasch made this impertinent little remark as he gazed
+about him in 'The Temple of National Art.' It was a temporary temple,
+neither unsuitable, nor wanting in taste, but built in the rapid,
+superficial manner of a circus, constructed over night as it were, and
+it was now filled to overflowing with Bohemian lovers of music.
+
+The four gentlemen were sitting in a proscenium box; Truyn and Georges
+in front, Pistasch and Oswald behind them. The opera was Faust, the
+_mise en scene_ was rather primitive, and the tenor had a cold; but the
+principal part was sung by an Italian prima donna who had not only a
+magnificent voice, but also a pair of uncommonly fine eyes.
+
+It was during the third _entr'acte_ after the cantatrice had been
+enthusiastically applauded that Pistasch allowed himself the foregoing
+impertinent observation.
+
+"Do you want to be turned out?" asked Georges.
+
+"I spoke quite innocently, and seriously," said Pistasch.
+
+Immediately afterwards he recognised in the next box a young man as a
+certain Doctor of Law, with whom he had been associated a few years
+before on the committee of a charity ball. He extended his hand to him
+round the front of the box, asked respectfully after the health of a
+deaf aunt, and after a talented sister, and even made inquiries about a
+cross cat, a pet of the doctor's, all in faultless idiomatic Bohemian,
+thus establishing his reputation as a thoroughly genial and national
+nobleman.
+
+Truyn looked extremely dignified, repeatedly expressed his great
+pleasure in the progress made by his beloved countrymen, in the course
+of the last fifteen years, as well as in the advancement of the
+national cause. Once during the conversation he attempted to make use
+of the Bohemian idiom, but he only excited the merriment of his
+auditors.
+
+Oswald was pale and silent.
+
+"What is the matter with you, my boy?" asked Truyn, observing with some
+anxiety, his weary air, and the dark rings round his eyes.
+
+"I am not quite up to the mark," said Oswald.
+
+"I hope you're not going to be ill," remarked Truyn.
+
+"Bah! He hasn't yet recovered from his conversation with Capriani,"
+said Pistasch. "For my part I cannot understand how you can be in the
+slightest degree affected by what such a man as that says or leaves
+unsaid."
+
+"We are not all such philosophers as you," Georges observed, glancing
+anxiously at his cousin.
+
+The door of the box opened--a slender, dark-complexioned man entered.
+"Good evening! How are you?"
+
+"It was Sempaly, younger brother of Prince Sempaly, to attend whose
+marriage he had just returned from the East. He was much tanned and his
+sharp features wore an air of languid weariness. Prince Sempaly had a
+few days previously married Nini Gatinsky. The new-comer was warmly
+welcomed, and then, of course, inquiries were made concerning the
+bridal pair, Truyn declaring his pleasure in their marriage.
+
+"It pleases me too, exceedingly," said Sempaly, with more warmth than
+he was wont to display. "They are both to be congratulated. Nini was
+always a dear creature, and she is prettier now than ever; and a nobler
+character than my brother's I have never known."
+
+"One thing however surprises me," observed Pistasch, the indiscreet,
+looking inquisitively at Sempaly, "your brother has been a widower for
+five years; it cannot be that he has spent all that time in bewailing
+the loss of the Princess. Why did he not grasp his happiness before?"
+
+"I cannot enlighten you on that point," replied Sempaly with a shrug.
+
+But Truyn said, smiling, "Perhaps it did not depend altogether upon
+Oscar; Nini may possibly have had a voice in the matter."
+
+"You too are going to have a wedding soon," said Sempaly, apparently
+desirous of changing the subject. "How these young people are growing
+up! If the resemblance to his mother were not so striking, I should
+hardly recognise your future son-in-law. Let me congratulate you," and
+he held out his hand to Oswald, "congratulate you most sincerely. And
+how are you at home?" he added, turning suddenly to Truyn.
+
+"All well," Truyn replied a little stiffly.
+
+"Pray, carry to your wife and daughter the regards of--one who shall be
+nameless," said Sempaly with bitterness.
+
+A short pause ensued; then he began, "What do you think of Seinsberg's
+suicide?"
+
+"Suicide?" exclaimed Truyn.
+
+"Did you not know it?" asked Sempaly.
+
+"I suspected something of the kind," said Pistasch.
+
+"What was the cause of it?" asked Truyn.
+
+"Too intimate an acquaintance with the Conte Capriani?" surmised
+Pistasch.
+
+"You have about hit the nail on the head, Pistasch," said Sempaly,
+turning his back to the stage and speaking towards the interior of the
+box. "It is terrible to think how many of us have fallen victims in
+quick succession to the rage for speculation."
+
+"It is all over with us!" said Pistasch.
+
+"Do have done with that eternal refrain of yours,"' said Truyn
+indignantly.
+
+"Well, Georges agrees with me, and even Ossi seems to be infected with
+our disheartening ideas," rejoined Pistasch, "he declared to-day that
+we were nothing but romantic ruins."
+
+"Ah, the ruins in Austria stand firm;" rejoined Truyn, always the same
+reactionary idealist, "of course we must consider how to adapt the
+ancient structure to the needs of the age."
+
+"Do you think so?" said Sempaly, twirling his moustache. "Would you
+turn the Coliseum into a gas-works? For my part I am not greatly in
+favour of the practical adaptation of historical monuments. Bah! leave
+us as we are! The ruins will remain standing for some time yet, and in
+virtue of their time-worn uselessness, will manage to overawe the
+practical modern architecture that is springing up all around them,
+until the next earthquake, and then--crash--" he made a quick,
+characteristic gesture--"and after the downfall those who carp at us
+the most now will perceive how large a share of poetry and civilisation
+lies beneath the wreck. It is all over with us, but what is to come
+hereafter?"
+
+"What is to come hereafter? That is easy enough to foretell;" said
+Georges quietly, "the universal dominion of the Caprianis!"
+
+"You do Capriani by far too much honour," rejoined Truyn.
+
+"Do not be too sure," said Sempaly, "he is more dangerous than you
+imagine. It makes me fairly shudder to see how he encroaches upon us,
+how he hates us, and how much mischief he can do us."
+
+"I wish I knew how he contrived to scrape together so much money in so
+short a time," sighed Pistasch plaintively.
+
+"I have heard that like Sulla, and various other great men, he owes his
+rapid success to the fostering protection of the other sex;--they say
+he has had immense good fortune in that direction, and in spheres where
+it was least to be expected," said Sempaly.
+
+"What! such a low cad as he!" The elegant Pistasch shrugged his
+shoulders incredulously.
+
+"Well--" Sempaly gazed into space in a characteristic way; then still
+twirling his moustache he said with a melancholy cynicism all his own:
+"There are certain clumsy night-moths who are strangely skilled in
+brushing the dew from weary flowers in sultry nights."
+
+Oswald, who had been bestowing but a languid attention upon
+the conversation, now exclaimed angrily, "I detest such vague
+imputations,--no one has any right to sully the fame of a number of
+unknown women by a suspicion that--that--" Confused by Sempaly's
+surprised, searching glance, he stopped short.
+
+"What is he thinking of?" asked Sempaly, looking round at the others.
+
+"A betrothed lover cannot tolerate any aspersion cast upon the fair
+sex," said Georges.
+
+"_Qu'a cela ne tienne_," rejoined Sempaly, "the betrothed of Gabrielle
+Truyn ought to be above such sensitiveness. Gabrielle comes from the
+corner of the earth, which Love Divine sheltered beneath angels' wings,
+when the devil showered his poison over all creation. Happy he who
+meets with such a girl!"
+
+"You do not know her," said Truyn, whose eyes, nevertheless, sparkled
+with gratified paternal pride.
+
+"I knew her as a child," said Sempaly slowly, "and I know who completed
+her education."
+
+For a moment they were all silent, and then Truyn began, "I must tell
+you a delicious bit of gossip, Sempaly;--only fancy, in the spring, in
+Paris, Capriani, one fine day, sent that goose, Zoe Melkweyser, to sue
+for Gabrielle's hand! What do you think of that?"
+
+"Incredible!" exclaimed Sempaly.
+
+"Was it not?" said Truyn, who took special delight in recounting this
+tale, and turning to Oswald, he went on, "Our Gabrielle and a son of
+Capriani,--was there ever such a joke?"
+
+But Oswald was silent.
+
+"You seem inclined to take your rival extremely tragically," rallied
+Pistasch.
+
+"This is the tenth time, at least, that I have heard the story," said
+Oswald angrily.
+
+"You'll have an irritable son-in-law, Truyn, at all events," interposed
+Sempaly with a sneer.
+
+At this moment Pistasch, whose rage for popularity was always on the
+alert, called out over the heads of Sempaly and Truyn, "Good evening,"
+to a tall, red-haired young man who had slowly made his way to the
+front of the pit. With delight in his eyes and a succession of nods,
+the red-head acknowledged the greeting.
+
+"Who is that?" asked Georges.
+
+"The surveyor's clerk who assisted at the polls to-day--an old
+acquaintance of mine," said Pistasch.
+
+Oswald's glance fell upon the red-head. He had recognised in the man at
+the polls the same whom he had struck in the face with his riding-whip,
+in the dingy little inn-parlour. The encounter in the morning had made
+no impression upon him, but now....
+
+"Good Heavens, how ill you look!" exclaimed Truyn.
+
+"I feel wretchedly," said Oswald in a forced voice, putting his hand to
+his head, "do not let me disturb you, I will go home."
+
+"You make me anxious, my boy," said Truyn, "wait a moment, and I will
+go with you."
+
+"No, no, pray uncle, it is really not worth the trouble, I can easily
+find a fiacre," remonstrated Oswald, in a strained unnatural voice. But
+Truyn, always anxious about those dear to him, could not be deterred
+and the two left the box together.
+
+"What is the matter with Lodrin to-night?" asked Sempaly as he took
+Truyn's seat. "I could not understand him. Eight years ago, when I saw
+him last, in Vienna, he was such a bright, merry fellow...."
+
+"Well--" and Pistasch drew a long breath, "he is just beginning to
+suffer from the Phylloxera."
+
+Georges replied to Sempaly's further inquiries, for Pistasch had become
+absorbed in an endeavour by sundry little grimaces to put out of
+countenance the Siebel of the performance, who was skipping awkwardly
+about the stage in boots much too tight. In this interesting amusement
+Pistasch forgot all else beside.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+"You really do not know what you wish," said Truyn in surprise when
+Oswald changed his mind for the third time about leaving Prague. After
+going with Truyn to the races on the first day succeeding the election,
+he would not hear of attending them with Georges and Pistasch on the
+second day. It was settled that he was to return home with Truyn; then
+he began to waver and fidget, and at last he telegraphed,
+countermanding the carriage that had been ordered to meet him, and got
+up a sudden interest in the horses of the Y---- stud which were to race
+for the first time. Before long, however, this interest subsided, and
+to Truyn's great surprise Oswald informed him at a moment's notice,
+that after all he was going home with him.
+
+"You will send me over to Tornow, uncle--or shall I telegraph for the
+horses?" asked Oswald.
+
+"Good Heavens, no! You can spend an hour with us, at Rautschin and take
+a cup of tea, and then I will send you home, you whimsical fellow,
+you," replied his uncle, and so they drove together through the quiet
+summer morning to the station.
+
+The streets were deserted except by the street sweepers, with their
+watering-pots busily laying the dust. The wheels of the hack rumbled
+noisily over the uneven pavement past brilliant cafes and shop windows,
+finally by the fine new National Bohemian Theatre, until their sound
+was deadened by the wooden planks of the Suspension Bridge. As usual
+the bridge is undergoing repairs; and this delays the hack, which, in
+addition is impeded by a battalion of infantry and two lumbering ox
+carts; there is a strong smell of mouldy planks, and hot pitch, by no
+means adding to the fragrance of the morning air. But these trifling
+annoyances cannot provoke Truyn, or destroy his pleasure in gazing on
+his native town.
+
+The Moldau, slaty grey in hue, with silvery reflections, flows among
+its green, feathery islands, and, parallel with the modern suspension
+monstrosity, the mediaeval Koenigsbridge, picturesque, and clumsy,--the
+statues on its broad balustrade black with age like the primitive
+illustrations in some old Chronicle,--spans the stream with its solemn
+arches.
+
+The Kaiserburg, surrounded by haughty palaces with an unfinished gothic
+cathedral, looks down from the summit of the Hradschin, upon its image
+mirrored in the water in waving lines, and columns tinged with green.
+The morning sun glows on the five red glass stars before the green St.
+John on the Karlsbridge, and far away on the left and right, far into
+the receding distance, until all objects are mellowed and blent,
+stretch the banks of the river like a long drawn symphony of colour
+dying away in palest violet.
+
+"After all, it is a fine, a magnificent city!" exclaimed Truyn with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"Pistasch said yesterday that Prague was a dismal hole," was Oswald's
+reply, "you may both be right--it all depends upon how you look at it."
+
+The phrase falls keen and chilling upon Truyn's enthusiasm, like ice
+into boiling water. Surprised, and well nigh irritated, he turned to
+his future son-in-law. As, however, he is far less sensitive than
+good-natured, a glance at Oswald converts irritation into eager
+compassion: "I wonder where you can have caught it?" he sighed, shaking
+his head.
+
+"Good Heavens, what?" asked Oswald.
+
+"I wish I knew," said Truyn, "either intermittent fever or a slight
+touch of jaundice,--for a man of your age and with your constitution
+there's no cause for alarm, but your mother will reproach me with your
+looking so ill!" Then Truyn leaned out of the window of the hack to
+admire the Hradschin once more, before subsiding into a corner with a
+sigh of content, and lighting a cigar.
+
+Oswald's nature is certainly as poetic as Truyn's, and never before had
+he driven over the suspension bridge, on a summer's morning, without
+revelling in the beauty of the Bohemian capital. But to-day everything
+is metamorphosed, beauty is ugliness. For him the world within two days
+had undergone a transformation.
+
+The human mind is like a mirror, upon the quality whereof depends the
+character of the reflection in its depths; in one mirror all things are
+reflected yellow, in another green, in a third every line is vague,
+shadowy and undecided; one shows objects lengthened, another broadened,
+and should the mirror be cracked, everything that it reflects will be
+distorted.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+Zinka and Gabrielle were at the railway station to meet Truyn, both
+gay, cordial and surpassingly lovely. The sight of them, and their
+merry talk at first brightened Oswald's mood. But suddenly at tea,
+which on the travellers' account was a substantial meal, a wretched
+sense of discomfort attacked him anew.
+
+As he had often laughingly boasted of his punctilious fulfilment of any
+commission from a lady, Gabrielle, before he left for Prague, had
+entrusted to him, to have repaired, a gold clasp of Hungarian
+workmanship set with rare, coloured stones.
+
+When at the table she asked him, "How about my clasp--did you bring it
+with you, or is the jeweller to send it?" he started, saying, "Forgive
+me, I forgot all about it."
+
+Gabrielle stared--"Forgot--my commission?"
+
+"Good Heavens! I am not the only man who ever forgot anything!"
+exclaimed Oswald irritably.
+
+It was the first unkind word he had ever uttered to his betrothed.
+Astonished and grieved she cast down her eyes. But Truyn, who, as long
+as Oswald was well and merry, was continually finding fault with him,
+being now seriously concerned about the young man's health took his
+part.
+
+"Have a little patience with him, comrade," said he to his daughter,
+"he is not well,--look at him, a man who looks as he does must not be
+scolded. When he is himself again we will both scold him roundly."
+
+"Forgive me, Ella," entreated Oswald humbly, holding out his hand to
+her. "I have an intolerable headache, uncle. Please have the carriage
+brought round, I must go home."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+The road from Rautschin castle to Tornow goes directly through the
+village, across the market-place, and past the inn, 'The Rose.'
+
+Involuntarily Oswald glanced towards the unpretending front of the
+tavern. Conceited and bedizened, with a dirty coat, and with bare feet
+thrust into morocco slippers down at the heel, the same waiter is
+standing in the doorway, just as he stood there on that rainy afternoon
+in spring, when Oswald took refuge in the inn-parlour.
+
+Was everything to be forever reminding him of that odious scene?--In
+Prague he had fancied that he should soon be able to shake off the
+hateful sensation produced by the interview with Capriani, just as we
+all overcome the nervous shudder, caused by some revolting spectacle.
+But no! for three days it had lasted and he could not rid himself of
+it,--on the contrary this hateful sensation was growing more defined.
+
+Of course he did not frame his suspicion in words, he was ashamed of
+it; he called it an _idee fixe_, resulting from nervous irritability
+still remaining from a slight sunstroke which he had had the year
+before, but for all that, he could not away with it. Countless memories
+of trifling events, dating from earliest childhood, crowded upon his
+mind, all pointing, with a sneer, one way. There was a lump in his
+throat, a weight as of lead upon his heart; the pain waxed more and
+more intolerable. He could have leaped out of the carriage and have
+flung himself down in the road with his face in the very dust, in an
+agony of shame and horror!
+
+For the first time in his life he was reluctant to go home; he was
+afraid of meeting his mother. There was a kind of relief in the thought
+that she was not expecting him, and would not come to meet him. He
+clinched his hands tightly, and gazed abroad, striving by the sight of
+distinct, familiar objects, to exorcise the evil phantoms that
+possessed his soul. But everything that his eyes beheld was stamped
+with ugliness and dejection. The leaves on the trees were limp and
+dusty. The grain, lodged by the storms, lay on the ground, half rotted
+in its own luxuriance. The farmers could recall no former year so rich
+in promise, so poor in fulfilment.
+
+When at length he reached the castle, he could hardly bring himself to
+ask after his mother, or to go and look for her. How could he, while
+his mind was filled with such vile abomination? He went up to his room,
+where the first object that met his eyes was the white death-mask upon
+the wall. He grew dizzy, a black, crimson-edged cloud seemed to rise
+before him; he flung open the window,--the air cooled by the sunset,
+and laden with the fragrance of flowers, played about him, and
+refreshed him,--he breathed more freely.
+
+Just then a soft, gentle sound fell upon his ear--his mother's voice!
+He shivered nervously from head to foot. How sweet, how noble was that
+voice!
+
+"So, so, old friend; fine, good Darling! Bravo, old dog, bravo!"
+
+These words spoken with caressing tenderness, reached him through the
+silence. He leaned out of the window--there she sat in a large wicker
+garden-chair, playing with his Newfoundland, that, with huge forepaws
+upon her lap, was looking familiarly into her face. Her full, elegant
+figure, about which some soft, black material fell in graceful folds,
+stood out against the background of a clump of pale purple phlox in
+luxuriant bloom. Oswald watched her in silence; the beautiful placid
+expression of her features, the rich harmony of her voice, the tender
+grace of her movements, as she passed her hands lovingly over the
+dog's head and neck,--all appealed to him. He never could tire of
+watching those hands. So slender and delicate that a girl of eighteen
+might have coveted them, there was something more about them than mere
+physical beauty, something clinging, pathetic, which is never found
+in the hands of young girls or of childless women. They were true
+mother-hands,--hands with an innate genius for soothing caresses;
+Oswald recalled the time when he had been extremely ill, and those
+delicate, white hands had tended him day and night with untiring
+patience and unsurpassable skill;--he could even yet feel their touch
+upon his suffering, weary limbs.
+
+And this saint,--his mother, his glorious, incomparable mother,--he had
+presumed to sully by such vile suspicions! He, her son!
+
+Without another thought he hurried down into the park. He saw her at a
+distance. The dog was lying quiet at her feet; she sat with hands
+clasped in her lap, and in her half-closed eyes there lay the look of
+the visionary, dim or far-seeing, always beholding more, or less than
+the actual. The dog heard his master's step and began to wag his tail,
+then rose, barking with joy, and ran to meet Oswald.
+
+"Ossi!" and the Countess opened her arms to him. Not even from his
+betrothed had he ever heard a tone of welcome so fervent, and as his
+mother clasped him close, and kissed him, he felt as if God Himself had
+laid His hand upon his sore heart and healed it. Gone were all his evil
+surmises, all fled, leaving only a sensation of angry self-reproach.
+
+"You are a day sooner than you said," she exclaimed, kissing him
+affectionately. "Well, I shall not complain, I am a few hours richer
+than I thought."
+
+"How so, mamma?"
+
+"Do you not understand? Do you really not yet know that I am counting
+the thirty-three days before your marriage--the last days that I shall
+have you to myself--and that to each one as it goes, I bid a sad
+farewell? Let me look at you,--my poor child, how you have come back to
+me! you look as if you had had an illness."
+
+"I have felt miserably, really wretchedly ever since I went away," he
+admitted, speaking slowly and without looking at her. "Uncle Erich
+diagnosed either the jaundice or intermittent fever, but it does not
+amount to anything, I am well again."
+
+"You do not look so," said the Countess, shaking her head. "Take an
+arm-chair, that seat is very uncomfortable."
+
+He had seated himself upon a low stool at her feet.
+
+"No, no, mamma," he replied smiling, "this seat is all right, and now
+tell me of what you were thinking as I came towards you. Your thoughts
+must have been very pleasant!"
+
+"Must you know everything," she replied gaily, "I had no thoughts,--my
+dreams...." she patted him lightly on the cheek and whispered--"were of
+my grandchildren."
+
+"Indeed? Perfectly reconciled, then, to my marriage?"
+
+"We must learn to acquiesce in the inevitable, and--and--it really
+would be delightful to have a chubby little Ossi, in miniature, to pet,
+and cosset."
+
+He did not speak, but leaned a little forward and pressed the hem of
+her gown to his lips.
+
+"You goose!" she remonstrated; but when he raised his head she
+perceived that his eyes were filled with tears. "What is the matter?"
+
+"A momentary weakness, as you see," he said with forced gaiety; adding
+earnestly,--"I am not ashamed of it before you. Of the evil that is in
+us, we are more ashamed before those whom we love than before all the
+rest of the world; but of our weaknesses we are ashamed only before
+those to whom we are indifferent!"
+
+Paler and paler grow the blossoms of the sweet rocket, sweeter and
+sweeter their fragrance rises aloft, like a mute prayer,--twilight
+hovers over the meadows and the leafy summits of the lindens grow
+black. The quiet air is stirred by the village bells ringing the
+Angelus. The Countess folded her hands,--of late years she has grown
+devout. Oswald is overcome by intense lassitude, the lassitude that
+follows the sudden relaxation of nervous tension in men upon whom
+severe physical exertion has no effect.--He lays his head upon his
+mother's knee, and recalls the time when, only twenty years old, and
+smarting under a severe disappointment, he had taken refuge there. Then
+he had lain his head upon her lap, and sleep, wooed in vain through
+feverish nights, had fallen on him.--He remembers how, regardless of
+her own discomfort, she had let him sleep there for hours, never
+moving, lest he should be disturbed. And how many other instances of
+her love and self-sacrifice fill his memory! She strokes his hair, and
+for a moment he wishes he might die, thus, now, and here,--yes, it
+would be far better, a hundredfold better to die thus at her feet, his
+heart filled with filial adoration, than to have to live down again the
+anguish of the last three days.
+
+
+
+
+
+                              BOOK FOURTH.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I.
+
+
+After all, what had induced Conte Capriani to spend his summer in
+Austria? His wife and his children were unutterably bored in their
+exile, and he--he was consumed with secret chagrin. He had intended to
+astound the earth whereon he had once run barefoot, but nothing had
+fulfilled his expectations, absolutely nothing. The Austrian climate
+did not agree with him, decidedly not. Instead of the intoxicating
+consciousness of triumph wherein he had hoped to revel, he was
+tormented, from morning until night, by a sensation of rasping
+humiliation. His arrogance sickened, shrivelled up; even his
+possessions suddenly seemed to him insignificant. His wealth was, to be
+sure, more easily convertible into cash, more available than that of
+the Austrian aristocrats. But what availed his airy, fleeting millions
+compared with these well-nigh indestructible possessions, rooted for
+centuries in native soil?
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Many, many years before, on a muddy road the sides of which were
+spotted with patches of dirty snow fast melting in the early spring,
+little Alfred Stein had run behind a high old-fashioned green coach
+hung on spiral springs, and had tried to steal a ride on the hind axle.
+The bearded coachman--a stout, patriarchal coachman with a broad fur
+collar--looked back, saw him, and snapped his whip at him, so sharply
+that the boy, frightened, let go the axle, and fell off into a puddle.
+A chubby child, at the carriage window, leaned far out to see him, and
+laughed, without any malice, loud and heartily, as all healthy children
+laugh at anything comical. But rage seized young Alfred, and when he
+could do it unobserved, he clenched his fist, and shook it at the
+carriage.
+
+At that time his envy did not reach higher than to a green coach, with
+a stately fur-clad coachman who could cut at all barefoot boys who were
+clinging on behind. How many miles his envy had travelled since then,
+how many ragamuffins his coachman had since then whipped off from his
+carriages, and yet at times it seemed to him that in reality he had not
+gained a step since that warm damp day in spring, when he had fallen
+into the puddle, and had been laughed at by the saucy little boy.
+
+The child of poor parents, his extraordinary beauty had attracted the
+notice of a Bohemian Countess, who oddly enough was the owner of that
+same green coach. He was the best scholar in the village school, and
+the Countess befriended him. He became the playmate of her proud,
+good-natured, indolent children. By-and-by he shared their lessons, and
+his progress was remarkable. He was patted on the shoulder, his
+diligence was commended, and at last, by dint of flattery and
+servility, he obtained the means to study in Vienna. The years of his
+student life were most wretched. He possessed neither the dullness nor
+the imagination that can make poverty tolerable, but his were the
+endurance and the cunning that overcome poverty. Averse to no secret
+infamy, he, nevertheless made a parade of morality, and was an adept in
+what a witty Frenchman calls _le charlatanisme du desinteressement_.
+Although a Sybarite by nature, and susceptible to all physical
+enjoyment, the instant that the attainment of his aims was at stake, he
+became a pattern of abstinence. He knew how to allow himself to be
+heaped with benefits, without acquiring the reputation of a parasite on
+the one hand or of a man who used his friends without any show of
+gratitude on the other.
+
+From the outset of his career he owed his success, not alone to his
+personal beauty, but to his faculty for intuitively detecting the evil
+propensities of others, and for privately pandering to them, yet always
+preserving a show of indulgent charity withal. His medical practise
+opened to him the doors of certain social circles which would else
+probably have been forever closed to him. He practised medicine for a
+while at fashionable watering places, and he had many distinguished
+patients among the fair sex; at last, however, his marriage to a rich
+Russian girl relieved him from the necessity of pursuing his
+profession, and led his speculative mind into other paths.
+
+His wife's fortune, however, was soon but a small part of that which he
+accumulated and added to it. Always restless, often unprincipled, he
+heaped up his millions, seeming fairly to conjure money out of other
+men's pockets. His greed of gain was no petty passion, there was in it
+something of the heroic. Wealth was not his end, but a means to his
+end, a weapon,--power.
+
+In Paris this power had not failed him, but in Austria no one was
+dazzled by it except those towards whom he felt utterly indifferent.
+Day by day he grew more irritable, more bitter; what did his millions
+avail with these Austrian aristocrats who, had, with indolent elegance
+dragged after them for centuries, in spite of all levelling tendencies
+of any age, the burden of their ancient traditions--called by the
+Liberals prejudices--and who had grown weary at last of justifiable
+carping at their official and unofficial prerogatives, and had taken
+refuge upon an island as it were of determined exclusiveness, where,
+entrenched as behind the wall of China, they loftily ignored all the
+revolutionary hubbub around them.
+
+He had succeeded in much, why should he not succeed in making a breach
+in this wall of China? This was the aim of all his efforts. He was one
+of those who would fain destroy what they cannot attain. By a thousand
+enticing temptations he had striven to arouse the avarice of the _Right
+Honourables_, as he called them, that the base, degrading greed of gain
+might bruise the strict sense of honour that was like a 'hoop of gold
+to bind in' Austrian exclusiveness. To brand an aristocrat as a
+swindler would be a keener joy than to make him a beggar.
+
+He had hitherto had only a few petty triumphs in this direction, but he
+was too ambitious, too clear-sighted to be contented in the long run
+with these trifling victories.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+One consciousness of terrible import to others had at times afforded
+Capriani some consolation, but of late even this consciousness had lost
+somewhat of its soothing charm.
+
+When, after his return from Prague, Kilary had asked him, with a sneer,
+if he had really succeeded in twisting Oswald Lodrin around his finger
+the Conte had replied with some embarrassment, "We have not done with
+each other yet, but I rather think that what I said to him will have an
+effect."
+
+And while he was making private marks with coloured pencils upon his
+business letters, or telegraphic despatches which arrived in large
+numbers for him every day, he repeated to himself, again and again: "It
+will have an effect!"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER II.
+
+
+It is evening in the drawing-room at Tornow, and the air breathes soft
+and fragrance-laden through the open window; the monotonous chirp of
+the crickets sounds loud and shrill as if to drown the sweet plaint of
+the nightingale. Beyond the circle of light cast by the lamps more than
+half of the spacious room is quite dark.
+
+The Countess Lodrin is bending over an embroidery frame, busied in
+working the Zinsenburg crest upon a hassock; Oswald, Georges, and
+Pistasch, who, when the races were over had accepted an invitation to
+come to Tornow with Georges, are eagerly discussing a false start.
+Oswald, the quietest of the three, glances from time to time at his
+mother.
+
+He has, to be sure, succeeded in shaking off his ugly _idee fixe_, and
+in regaining his former cheerfulness; but yet, by fits and starts, he
+is assailed by a paralysing sensation of dread. Then he takes refuge
+with his mother; by her side the odious fancies have no power. There
+are times when he is possessed by a wild impulse to deliver Capriani's
+message, to ask his mother whether she ever really knew Doctor Stein
+and to watch the effect; but at the critical moment his heart has
+always failed him, and he has been ashamed of yielding even thus much
+to his disgraceful weakness.
+
+When they have exhausted the false start, Georges and Pistasch enter
+upon a discussion of the best method of shoeing horses. This
+interesting topic absorbs them so entirely that neither perceives that
+for several minutes the Countess has been searching for something which
+she has mislaid,--finally even stooping to look for it on the floor. It
+is Oswald who rises and asks, "What are you looking for, mamma?"
+
+"A strand of scarlet silk."
+
+The two gentlemen of course feel it their duty to offer their services,
+but too late; Oswald has already picked up the silk. This trifling
+diversion, however, puts a stop to the sporting talk.
+
+"Mimi Dey came to see me this morning; I asked her to dine with us on
+Thursday."
+
+"Is Elli Rhoeden coming too?" asked Oswald.
+
+"If I am not mistaken she has gone to Kreuznach," observed Pistasch.
+
+"Yes," said the Countess, "unfortunately we cannot depend upon her, but
+you will probably enjoy the society of Fraeulein von Klette. Mimi will
+do her best to make her stay at home, but she cannot promise."
+
+"Is she living still,--that Spanish fly?" asked Georges, surprised.
+
+"Indeed she is, and with the same enormous appetite," Pistasch calmly
+declared, "I believe she is qualifying herself for the post of Minister
+of Finance; her talent for levying taxes is more brilliantly developed
+every year. Unfortunately her sphere of action is limited to the circle
+of her most intimate friends."
+
+"It appears that she has just embarked in a novel and very interesting
+financial enterprise," remarked the Countess with a smile, "she is
+raffling a sofa cushion."
+
+"Oh, that famous negro head," observed Pistasch, "she has been working
+at it for two years, and she issues a fresh batch of chances every
+three months."
+
+"Before I forget it," said the Countess half to herself, "would you not
+like to write to Fritz to come to dinner day after to-morrow, Ossi? we
+shall be entirely by ourselves. He will feel at home, and I am always
+glad to entice him to forget his sorrows, if only for a few hours."
+
+"I paid him a visit yesterday," said Georges, "he is going down hill
+very fast in health. He asked eagerly after you, Ossi, and mentioned
+that he had not seen you for a long while."
+
+"Ossi avoids Schneeburg, for fear of an encounter with the _Phylloxera
+vastatrix_ who, as he prophesies, is to be the ruin of us all," said
+Pistasch banteringly.
+
+Oswald had risen to light a cigarette at the lamp; his hand trembled a
+little. "I will write to Fritz, mamma," he said, "I am afraid I have
+rather neglected him of late."
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III.
+
+
+"Our poor Count Fritz is going fast," said old Doctor Swoboda every
+time that he returned from Schneeburg to Rautschin and stopped at the
+inn to drink a glass of beer; this time he remarked it to Herr
+Alexander Cibulka, who always took a lively interest in Schneeburg.
+
+"Ah, indeed? Well, he has not much to lose in this life," rejoined
+Eugene Alexander, "if I had to depend for my living upon alms, as he
+does, I'd put a bullet through my brains!" and Herr Cibulka ran his
+stubby fingers through his bushy hair. He was very proud of such
+unfeeling expressions, which he considered, Heaven only knows why, as
+particularly fashionable. "And how is the Conte Capriani?" he
+continued, "and the charming Ad'lin,--a superb creature, eh?" and
+Eugene Alexander affectedly wafted abroad a kiss from his finger tips.
+
+"Don't know," growled the old doctor, "I don't associate with them."
+
+"Ah, true," said Herr Cibulka compassionately, "I quite forgot, you do
+not associate with them."
+
+Eugene Alexander Cibulka was the only man among the _haute volee_ of
+the market-town who had enjoyed the honour of an invitation from
+Capriani. The invitation,--there was but one,--was to a _dejeuner_, and
+inspired him with not a little pride. He described it as a most
+memorable, 'brilliant episode,' in his monotonous existence, and he
+celebrated it in lyric phrases. What had so charmed him it would be
+hard to tell; Madame Capriani had found it impossible to understand
+him, although she had good-humouredly tried to do so,--his sentences
+were so interlarded with compliments,--and consequently she was obliged
+to confine herself to phrases of conventional courtesy; Adeline had
+spoken only in French, which of course excluded him from conversation
+with her, and when he picked up her handkerchief she thanked him as
+haughtily as if she resented his not presenting it on a salver; the
+Conte had urged him to partake of the various dishes, ringing the
+changes upon one invariable theme. "You had better take some--you don't
+get such a chance every day."
+
+Modern culture had certainly treated him ill, but all the more was he
+convinced of its immense superiority. There was but one adjective that
+in his opinion, could in any wise fitly characterize the new household
+at Schneeburg, and that was, 'Sublime!'
+
+Two years previously, in old Malzin times, he had also on some occasion
+or other dined at Schneeburg. The old Count had received him with
+distinguished, though formal, courtesy, had insisted upon his preceding
+him into the dining-hall, and had taken great pains to find subjects
+for conversation that should not exclude his guest. He had been very
+much better treated at Schneeburg then,--but no raptures came of it. On
+the contrary he had declared, with a shrug, that Count Malzin's style
+of living was very 'middle-class,'--that it was a pity too, that the
+Count spoke so low that it was difficult to understand him, and that
+really there had not been enough to eat.
+
+In spite of the old Count's courtesy and of the simplicity of the
+dinner, Cibulka had somehow on that occasion been keenly sensible of
+the gulf between himself and the master of Schneeburg, and it seemed to
+him now that Capriani's millions had avenged him of the affront caused
+by the personal superiority of the former possessor of the Castle; this
+delighted him. It flattered his self-importance to hear Capriani--no
+one knew why,--call Castle Schneeburg a little hunting box, nothing but
+a hunting box, and then to hear him say: "Oh, Malzin, _apropos_, did
+you write to the saddler? You must make haste--indeed you are very
+dilatory!" And then, when Fritz had departed, to have the Cr[oe]sus
+suddenly turn to him, to Cibulka, and remark confidentially, "that
+fellow, Malzin, is really an incumbrance, but what can one do?--he must
+be provided for."
+
+Eugene Alexander, a despicable specimen of a despicable class,
+servilely rubbed his hands, and murmured, "The Herr Count is most
+generous, but indeed that is an easy matter for the Herr Count. Poor
+devil! I really am sorry for Malzin."
+
+Poor devil indeed! The old doctor was right, Fritz was going fast.
+Every afternoon at the same hour he had a high fever,--he looked
+like a ghost. In speaking he had a habit of contracting his underlip,
+which gave to his face the hard, pain-begotten lines with which the
+pre-Raphalites portrayed the dying Christ. Ready at any minute to drop
+from fatigue, he was yet driven forth by constant restlessness to go
+dragging over forest and field, obliged at ever-lessening intervals to
+rest upon a stile, or upon the steps of some way-side cross. There he
+would sit gazing abroad and repeating to himself, with the exaggerated
+appreciation that men always cherish for that of which they are
+deprived, that Schneeburg was the finest estate in Bohemia. When he
+strode through the golden stubble fields, the reapers would gather
+about him and with many a merry, kindly word encircle his limbs, in
+accordance with an ancient Bohemian custom, with wreaths of straw. He
+would respond with some friendly jest, and purchase his release by a
+gratuity more in accordance with his former means than with his present
+circumstances.
+
+The people were still loyal to him, to the peasants and day labourers
+he was always "_Our_ Herr Count." Whenever he appeared among them they
+ran to him, kissed his hands, and invoked countless blessings upon him.
+There had been a time when he protested impatiently against these
+rather obtrusive demonstrations, but now he took pleasure in them. He
+knew the people almost all by name, and frequently talked with them,
+when to be sure they never failed to make some complaint against their
+new master, under whom in point of fact they were very well off; but
+they none the less complained of him just to please their Herr Count.
+
+But though the peasants and labourers were thus loyal to him, the new
+servants and superintendants showed no such respect. The Conte had not
+retained in Schneeburg a single one of the former servants; he had
+dismissed them all without pensions. The knowledge of this had added
+bitterness to the old Count's last moments. He had interceded for his
+people, and when he could obtain nothing save vague promises, he had
+intended to use his influence elsewhere for their protection, but death
+had intervened and put an end to his good intentions. Probably none of
+the dismissed were worth much--the housekeeping at the Castle had been
+slipshod and easy-going,--all things had been allowed to take their own
+course. No provision for the old servants had been included in the
+original contract when they were first hired, and the income from
+Schneeburg had not been large enough to warrant the reservation of a
+pension fund, but no one had ever been dismissed on account of
+increasing age, or of physical infirmity. Almost all of them had been
+born upon the estate, and had expected to die there. And now, suddenly,
+Schneeburg was 'swept clean' of them, as the Conte expressed it. Some
+of them were plunged into hopeless poverty; Fritz discovered this, and
+the misery of not being able to provide for _his_ people was an added
+pang.
+
+Meanwhile there was a horde of new servants at Schneeburg, all young
+people, with modern ideas, fresh from industrial schools, stocked with
+correct views of their multifarious duties, and with independent
+opinions in politics.
+
+At first, whenever Fritz met them, he greeted them with the kindly
+affability with which he was wont to treat inferiors, but this
+condescension from one in his circumstances seemed to them ridiculous;
+they laughed among themselves at his courtesy. He did not observe this
+for some time, and when he did so he simply took no notice of the
+menials. They however continued to ridicule him, and to clear away,
+pull down, and alter ruthlessly.
+
+Whilst Fritz sat wearied and worn in his gloomy room, among his shabby
+relics, teaching his little daughter French, or his boy the alphabet,
+he could hear the thud of the falling stones, as the time-honoured
+out-buildings were being demolished, and every sound struck a direct
+blow at his poor, sore, foolish heart.
+
+The Conte's behaviour towards him daily grew more intolerable,
+especially ever since his return from the election. Every petty
+disappointment was wreaked upon Fritz. Of course! Fritz was the only
+member 'of the caste' upon whom the Conte could vent his anger. His
+brutalities Fritz could endure, but what outraged him beyond measure
+was to have the Conte assume an air of frankness, and behind the
+mask of friendly interest presume to ask all sorts of personal
+questions,--the bitterest of pills for Malzin!
+
+"Oh Heavens, how long am I to be in gaining the summit of Calvary?" the
+poor fellow sometimes asked himself.
+
+To-day he had been visited by a ray of light, emanating from the
+cordial, affectionate note, in which Oswald invited him to the
+family-dinner at Tornow. "Forgive me for not having seen you for so
+long," Oswald concluded, "only remember all that I have to do. The
+castle is turned upside down in anticipation of a certain coming event,
+but, nevertheless, we shall be heartily glad to keep you with us for a
+couple of days. But we will discuss this to-morrow."
+
+Of course Fritz accepted the invitation. He knew that it would bring on
+a scene with his wife--but what, after all, did he care for that? He
+could not but anticipate the morrow with pleasure, and after he had
+dispatched his reply by the Tornow messenger, he walked out into the
+park.
+
+It was early in August, and the floods of rain which had fallen in June
+and July had been followed by stifling sultriness. Fritz was both
+stimulated and wearied by the state of the atmosphere, without being
+conscious of any special degree of heat. His disease had made such
+progress that he was subject to chilly sensations, even when the
+thermometer stood very high. As usual, he sought out the most retired
+paths of the park, paths where he felt sure of meeting no one, and of
+being able to indulge unmolested in his customary day-dreams.
+
+He reached a miniature lake, embosomed among proud, old firs, its
+surface glassy as a mirror held aloft by the nixies to the sky. Tall
+reeds with brown heads fringed its shores, and nodded to the white
+waterlilies reposing among their flat, green leaves. Perfect silence
+reigned; not only did the stately firs preserve their customary,
+dignified quiet, but even the leafy trees were too listless to-day to
+exhale their wonted 'murmur mixed with sighs.' Each leaf drooped
+wearily. No bird uttered a note, the stillness was as profound as in
+mid-winter. Nature lay motionless, no audible pulse throbbing, sunk, as
+it seemed, in a mysterious swoon.
+
+Fritz sat down upon a bench rudely constructed of birch boughs, and
+gazed dreamily around. As always when alone, his thoughts reverted to
+the past, and now he smiled at a memory of langsyne. He recalled how as
+a child he had tried here to learn from the gardener's sons how to skip
+pebbles on the surface of the water. He had succeeded but ill; his
+pebbles all sunk directly to the bottom. He remembered too that very
+near this small lake there was once a little hut with a mossgrown,
+shingled roof, resting upon four fir-tree trunks. There the little
+Malzins had played Robinson Crusoe; the hut had been a fort besieged by
+savages. Perhaps it was no longer in existence; Capriani might have had
+it cleared away; Fritz arose to look for it.
+
+It was still there; he could see the gilt crescent sparkling on the
+gable of the old, shingled roof. As he approached it he heard voices,
+and would have withdrawn, had he not recognized them as those of his
+wife and Capriani. In some irritation he drew nearer, but found nothing
+to justify any interference; Charlotte was sitting busy with some
+sewing, while the Conte was talking to her,--that was all.
+
+When Fritz, with his pale face of disapproval appeared in the doorway
+of the summer-house, an ugly smile passed over the features of the
+Conte. "You come in the nick of time," Capriani said carelessly, and
+without the least embarrassment. "Sit down, we were just talking about
+you."
+
+"Indeed? very kind," murmured Fritz, taking a seat, and glancing rather
+sternly at his wife.
+
+"We were just speaking of your children. Hm, my dear Malzin,"--the
+Conte stroked his long whiskers,--"have you laid by anything for those
+youngsters?"
+
+Fritz cast down his eyes. "How could I have done so?" he rejoined in a
+monotone.
+
+"You certainly might lay by something from your present salary," the
+Conte said with emphasis.
+
+"You seem entirely to forget that I have only had my present salary for
+two months," said Fritz bluntly.
+
+The Conte bit his lip. "Oho!" he exclaimed, "have I offended you again?
+I assure you I mean well, very well by you. Tell me your views with
+regard to the future of your children."
+
+Fritz shrugged his shoulders. "I really have none; the poor things will
+have to shift for themselves," and his voice trembled.
+
+"Of course you mean then to give them a good education, to enable them
+to earn their own living," continued the Conte. "That is all right, but
+allow me to ask how you mean to do this?"
+
+Fritz passed his hand--the white, transparent hand of
+consumption--wearily across his forehead. "I hope to send my little
+girl to Hernals," he began, "where she can be educated for a
+governess."
+
+"Ah--!" the Conte looked disapproval--"a very unpractical scheme, it
+seems to me, very unpractical. She will become very pretentious in her
+ideas at Hernals, and will gain but little that can be of real service
+to her. Remember your circumstances, my dear fellow, remember your
+circumstances,--we will discuss them by-and-by. And what do you think
+of doing with your son?"
+
+"Oh Franzi is still so little," said Fritz in hopes of cutting short
+the conversation, the Conte's arrogant, domineering tone was most
+irritating, it stung him like nettles.
+
+"All the more reason for providing for his future," the Conte insisted,
+"in consideration of the chance of your being suddenly taken from him."
+
+"True, true," sighed Fritz. "Well then, I hope to live long enough to
+place him in a government school for Cadets, after which through the
+influence of my relatives, he can obtain a commission."
+
+The Conte laughed contemptuously. "Just like you!" he exclaimed, "the
+same haughty, aristocratic idler as ever! You'll learn sense after a
+while, my dear fellow. I have thought of something for Franzi; your
+wife is quite agreed to it." Charlotte who had seemed to be absorbed in
+her sewing, nodded.
+
+"The Countess always takes a sensible view of affairs, she looks things
+in the face," continued the Conte; "begging your pardon, my dear
+fellow, there is more common-sense in her little finger than in your
+whole body. We will find Franzi a place in a dry-goods establishment.
+The business is neither unhealthy, nor confining, and if it goes
+against your grain to put him in such a situation here in Austria (to
+speak frankly I think any such objection very petty,--my views in this
+respect are more enlightened) why I will see that he gets one in Paris
+at the _Louvre_ or at the _Printemps_; a clerk in one of those great
+houses often gets a yearly salary of from fifteen to twenty thousand
+francs!"
+
+Fritz started to his feet and made several attempts to interrupt the
+Conte, but his voice failed. A singing was in his ears, his blood was
+coursing hotly, wildly through his veins. "My son!" he gasped hoarsely,
+"my son, clerk in a dry-goods shop! I'd rather kill him myself!"
+
+He felt a terrible oppression in his chest, and then came sudden
+relief; in an instant he grew deadly pale with bluish tints about his
+eyes and temples. He stretched out his hands aimlessly as if to ward
+off some catastrophe, not knowing why he did so,--then mechanically
+felt for his handkerchief, pressed it to his lips, and fell senseless
+on the floor.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IV.
+
+
+The Lodrins dined early during the warm summer months; they wished to
+have the cooler hours of the late afternoon for riding, driving or
+walking. The dinner on Thursday at which Fritz was to have been present
+was at two o'clock, but at the last moment he sent an excuse without
+any special cause assigned.
+
+Of course Fraeulein von Klette had not been persuaded to stay at home.
+Erect as a grenadier, and with an enormous reticule to contain her
+sewing, her headdress, and any chance presents that she might receive,
+she made her appearance with Mimi Dey, who good-humouredly assured the
+Countess Lodrin, for the tenth time that Ossi and Gabrielle were
+incomparably the handsomest betrothed couple in Austria, and then
+greeted Zinka with perhaps rather exaggerated cordiality. Thanks to the
+imitative instinct that rules the world, all the ladies of the vicinity
+modelled their behaviour towards Zinka upon that of the Countess
+Lodrin. Mimi Dey had declared lately to several of her acquaintances
+who were asking about Erich Truyn's marriage, "Zinka is as much of a
+lady as I am," and this significant verdict had its share in
+establishing upon a firm basis Zinka's social position.
+
+Pistasch watched Zinka curiously; with all his languid insolence, he
+was possessed of sufficient tact to perceive what she was and to
+comport himself towards her accordingly. As usual, when not in the
+bosom of her family, she was rather silent; her gentle voice was heard
+only occasionally; she looked very pretty, and seemed to be occupied
+with anything rather than her own beauty, with every one else rather
+than with herself.
+
+The two topics of the hour were the upset that had befallen young
+Capriani and his four-in-hand the day before, and the murder of an old
+widow in a village near Schneeburg. The accident to the four-in-hand of
+course afforded all the gentlemen the liveliest satisfaction; they were
+unanimous in their surprise that the catastrophe had been delayed so
+long; the murder in Karlowitz opened for Truyn a wide field of moral
+and political considerations. As this murder was the first that had
+occurred within the memory of man in all the country round, he did not
+hesitate for a moment to ascribe it to the demoralizing influence of
+Capriani.
+
+There is probably no evil, from a murder to an epidemic, which Truyn
+would not have liked to trace directly or indirectly to the sinister
+influence of Conte Capriani. Oswald who had been merry enough at first
+gradually grew taciturn and monosyllabic.
+
+"Capriani's ears must tingle," he exclaimed at last, no longer
+controlling his impatience, "can we talk of nothing else but that
+scoundrel!"
+
+"Do not grudge us this innocent amusement," rejoined Truyn
+good-humouredly, and Pistasch added, "I cannot see why it should make
+you nervous. The mere sound of Capriani's name affects you as an
+allusion to the cholera affects other men." Oswald changed colour, and
+Georges proposed a toast to the betrothed couple.
+
+After dinner, whilst they were all drinking coffee in the drawing-room,
+Pistasch contrived a _tete-a-tete_ with his cousin Mimi Dey for the
+purpose of asking all sorts of questions about Zinka, which he could
+not well put directly to the Lodrins. "Is she the same Sterzl about
+whom there was so much talk in Rome? The girl who--etc.,--etc.?--a very
+delightful person, really charming." It was beginning to be the fashion
+to declare Zinka charming.
+
+In the meantime the heroine of the Roman romance, was sitting beside
+the Countess Lodrin on a small divan in a dim corner of the spacious
+room, and whispering, "Have you heard?"
+
+"Of course I have! Ossi learned it from your husband; I congratulate
+you with all my heart," replied the Countess in a low tone, taking the
+young wife's hand in her own.
+
+"And you understand how very glad I am," whispered Zinka, blushing, and
+brushing away a tear.
+
+The Countess smiled her own grave beautiful smile, and nodded assent;
+Zinka moved a little closer to her. "Who should understand it better
+than you?" she whispered. She felt a positive reverence for the
+Countess, whose kind and tender treatment of her she could not but
+regard as a special mark of favour and distinction. The childlike
+deference of her manner towards the elder lady was very graceful and
+very winning.
+
+"If--if the good God should grant me a son," she whispered more softly
+still, and with a deeper blush, "I should like to learn from you how to
+educate him."
+
+Countess Wjera laid her hand kindly on Zinka's shoulder. "Your husband
+will be a better teacher there than I can be; that Ossi is what he is
+is due to the grace of God,--not to me."
+
+"And is it by God's grace alone, that Ossi has preserved so profound
+and filial a veneration for his mother?"
+
+The Countess took her hand from Zinka's shoulder; the younger woman,
+startled, gazed into her face.
+
+"It is nothing," said Wjera, with a forced smile, "a pain in my
+heart--it will soon pass."
+
+Mimi Dey, with Pistasch, was approaching the corner where the Countess
+and Zinka were sitting, and noticing Wjera's sudden pallor, inquired as
+to its cause, instantly vaunting the merits of a certain specific, in
+which she had implicit confidence. As soon as Fraeulein Klette observed
+that the conversation was taking a medical turn, she too joined the
+group. "Wjera, I know a wonderful remedy; a Swiss physician, gave me
+the prescription,--it really will cure everything,--everything."
+
+"From scrofula to 'despised love,'" added Pistasch. He knew the famous
+prescription well, and knew, too, that it was the basis of one of
+Fraeulein Klette's numerous financial man[oe]uvres.
+
+"It really is an extraordinary remedy, Wjera, and it would do you good,
+too, Mimi;--it would be the very thing for Zinka I am sure," Fraeulein
+Klette rattled on. "I have wrought wonders with it. Do let me have a
+few bottles of it put up for you."
+
+"You needn't take that trouble, Carolin," said Pistasch maliciously, "I
+have two or three quarts of your specific on hand, and it will give me
+pleasure to supply the ladies."
+
+"As you please, I do not insist," said the Fraeulein chagrined;
+whereupon she drew from her reticule the famous negro's head and with
+great energy and a very long thread began to embroider a sulphurous
+gleam on his ebony nose.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V.
+
+
+The fierce heat of the day is over, the rays of the westering sun cast
+mildly gleaming bands of gold here and there amid the pleasing
+confusion of furniture in the drawing-room, where both coverings and
+hangings of Flemish stuff made the prevailing colour a dim, cool green.
+
+The world forgetting, the betrothed pair were standing by a little
+table whereon was a large, blue Sevres vase, filled with crimson
+Jacqueminot roses, a vase, whereof the depressing shape was that of a
+funeral urn, and whereof the decorations were after the pedantic taste
+of the first Empire, with medallions of gaudy flowers upon a dark-blue
+surface. Oswald and Gabrielle had just agreed in declaring the vase
+almost as hideous as the pretentious monstrosity placed in the library
+of the Vatican as a memorial of Napoleonic generosity.
+
+"Mamma's Russian relatives have a positive passion for blue Sevres
+vases, and green malachite table tops upon gilded tripods," said
+Oswald, "but one cannot throw a well-meant gift out of doors!"
+
+And then they went on to talk of the future, of their wedding-trip
+which was to be to the East, and to laugh over certain events of the
+first days of their young affection, in that fair spring-time in Paris.
+Suddenly Gabrielle interrupted their talk with "Now you are yourself
+again, but at dinner you looked so cross, I was absolutely afraid of
+you!"
+
+"Oh, you foolish little girl, how could you be afraid of me?"
+
+"You mean that a great lion like you, is far too noble to hurt a poor
+little King Charles!"
+
+He shook his head, saying, "I never should think of comparing you to a
+King Charles."
+
+"To what would you compare me then?" she asked, lifting her large,
+shining eyes to his.
+
+"Are you angling for flattery, Ella?" he said banteringly.
+
+"Flattery from you?" was her half-offended reply.
+
+"Ah, I did not mean that,--I will tell you to what I love to liken
+you," he whispered very softly, leaning towards her,--"to a white lily,
+Ella,--you are just as pure and fair, with a golden heart deep down in
+your breast."
+
+Her dark-blue eyes glittered with tears of tenderness.
+
+"Oh Ella, if you only knew how I long to clasp you in my arms this
+moment, and kiss away the tears from those dear eyes! But ...." and he
+gave a glance around.
+
+"No one is looking," she said saucily.
+
+It was true; the ladies were absorbed in teazing Pistasch about his
+last conquest, and Truyn and Georges were again at it in argument over
+the internal policy of the government; but none the less did the sound
+of her own audacious little speech startle Gabrielle, and when Oswald
+with a merry glance whispered "Say that again, Gabrielle," she turned
+away.
+
+"How Papa is shouting!" she observed in order to change the subject as
+quickly as possible. And in fact Truyn's voice is tolerably loud as he
+utters the significant, momentous words: "It is our mission to protect
+the people from the influence of ambitious political theorists, and
+from its own folly!"
+
+"He is in a downright fury," assents Oswald, "let us try to calm him,
+Ella." And as they went together towards the two politicians, Oswald
+said, "Would you not like to have a rubber, uncle, before you carry out
+your mission?"
+
+Truyn, as became his age, had a weakness for whist, quite as pronounced
+as for politics, and therefore accepted the proposal. The ladies were
+politely invited to play, but no one accepted save Fraeulein Klette, and
+since Pistasch refused point-blank to have her for a partner, the four
+gentlemen sat down to the game by themselves.
+
+The sunbeams slant more and more, one long, level ray is now shining
+directly through the bouquet of crimson roses in the ugly Sevres vase,
+the flowers glow like strange, weird jewels.
+
+A carriage stopped before the castle. "Who can it be?" said Countess
+Lodrin.
+
+It was the Baroness Melkweyser. The customary greetings over, she
+begged the gentlemen not to let her interrupt their game, and sank into
+an arm-chair beside the Countess Lodrin. "I hope I do not disturb you!"
+she exclaimed. "I really could not stand it another hour over there. I
+was perfectly wild!"
+
+"Aha!" Mimi Dey smiled provokingly. "I cannot pity you as much as you
+seem to expect, Zoe; I thought you would repent it, when I heard you
+were staying with those queer people."
+
+"What would you have?" said the Baroness meekly enough, "I have known
+those Caprianis ever so long, they live magnificently in Paris."
+
+"Indeed?" asked Mimi, "does any one visit them?"
+
+"Oh yes, crowned heads even," said Zinka, "and especially Princes of
+the blood travelling incog."
+
+"Oh, they--why, they go even to the _Mabille_," said Mimi,
+"and--well--perhaps there is a certain similarity between ....!"
+
+"Oh, no, no," interrupted Zoe, "they have very decent manners; Capriani
+even turned out of his house lately a person who came without an
+invitation."
+
+"Really?" said Zinka, "that, certainly, shows great progress; but is it
+true that at the Conte's last ball neither the eldest daughter, nor her
+husband was present?"
+
+"Yes," Zoe admitted. "Those are some of the insolent airs with which
+Larothiere contrives to awe his father-in-law."
+
+"Go on," said Mimi.
+
+"I do not say that only the _elite_ appear at these balls. _C'est
+toujours le monde a cote_, as they say in Paris, but,--good Heavens!
+these Caprianis have been of service to me, and they always heaped me
+with attentions, but here they are beginning to behave positively
+disagreeably to me."
+
+"Perhaps your services in your native country have not answered their
+expectations," said Mimi, "Pistasch told me that you had been invited
+to Schneeburg on purpose to introduce the Caprianis into Austrian
+society. Was that only one of his poor jokes, or ...."
+
+"I really did promise to do my best ...."
+
+"My dear Zoe'," exclaimed Mimi Dey horrified, "had you clean forgotten
+your Austria?"
+
+"No, I had not forgotten it, only I fancied that in the last
+twenty-five years you might have conformed somewhat to the spirit of
+the age; but no, you are precisely the same as ever. When will you
+cease to entrench yourselves behind triple barriers?"
+
+"When we feel sure that no suspicious individual will try to invade our
+realm," said Mimi; "our circle, moreover, is quite large enough, and if
+we are asked to admit a stranger, at least we have a right to discover
+beforehand whether he will or will not be an acquisition."
+
+That this didactic little speech was uttered principally for her
+edification, the Countess Truyn was perfectly aware. She merely smiled
+calmly.
+
+"I have no prejudices," asserted Fraeulein Klette boldly. "I am
+perfectly ready to be introduced to the Caprianis."
+
+"Yes, you are a great philosopher," replied Mimi, gravely patting her
+on the shoulder, "we all know that."
+
+"I shall not fail to represent to Capriani the advantage to be derived
+from your acquaintance," said Zoe drily. "And now I must make haste and
+execute a commission; I should really prefer to extricate myself from
+these associations, but since I have got into the claws of this vulture
+I must keep him in good humour at least until he has gotten my finances
+into a better condition. And that brings me to what I have to ask of
+you, Wjera; I want you to do me a great favour." Up to this point the
+Countess Lodrin had taken no part in the conversation, but had
+continued, apparently lost in thought, to work away with her large
+wooden needles at her woollen piece of knitting. Zinka, who had been
+watching her, thought her unusually pale. "A favour? What is it?" asked
+the Countess.
+
+"It is about your 'old Vienna' set of china, which you used to be so
+anxious to complete. The other half was at Schneeburg, and now belongs
+to Capriani. When he learned from me that you--er--were very fond of
+the set, he--er--asked me,--very kindly, as you must admit,--to offer
+you his half."
+
+The Countess's large wooden needles clicked louder, and more busily
+than ever, but she said not a word in reply.
+
+"You really would do me a very great favour, Wjera," persisted the
+baroness, "three weeks ago he asked me to say this to you, and I have
+only to-day brought myself to do it. You will embarrass me exceedingly
+by rejecting the china."
+
+Then Wjera with a quick angry gesture dropped her work, and looked up.
+Her face in its stern pallor was like chiselled marble, but a dark glow
+shone in her eyes; Zinka thought that she had never beheld anything
+more beautiful or more haughty than that face at that moment. "What
+price does your Herr Capriani ask for the china?" she asked curtly.
+
+"Price?--Price?--he will deem himself only too happy by your acceptance
+of it...!"
+
+"Ossi, that's a revoke!" exclaimed Pistasch spreading out two tricks
+upon the whist-table.
+
+"He is playing very carelessly," remarked Truyn.
+
+"Every allowance must be made for a man in love," said Georges kindly
+as he shuffled the cards.
+
+Oswald, whose back was towards his mother, heard her say: "Your
+Monsieur Capriani's officiousness seems to me to pass all bounds. Pray
+tell him _de ma part_ that I am quite ready to buy the service of him,
+at any price that he may name, however high, but that it is not my
+habit to accept gifts from those with whom I neither have nor wish to
+have any social intercourse."
+
+"But, good Heavens! I had forgotten one half of my message," said Zoe,
+striking her forehead. "He expressly hoped that you would see in this
+little attention nothing more than a proof of respectful esteem from a
+former servant,--he would not venture to say friend,--of your family.
+He assures me that he attended yourself and your husband years ago
+while you were in the Riviera, and he declares that if you do not
+recognise Conte Capriani, you will surely remember Doctor--Doctor--I
+have forgotten the name--but at any rate the doctor that you had
+there."
+
+"Why it must be Stein!" exclaimed Fraeulein Klette.
+
+"Yes, that was the name," said Zoe.
+
+"Why, I knew him," Fraeulein Klette went on eagerly. "You must remember
+me to him; he was practising at Nice, when I spent the winter with the
+Orczinskas. The women raved about him--he was a very handsome man then,
+and he had invented a hygienic corset, all the women wore it.--You must
+have known him too, Wjera. I am certain that I met him once at your
+villa, that winter that you and your husband passed in the Riviera."
+
+"He declares that he attended your husband," said Zoe.
+
+There was a brief--a very brief pause, and then the Countess said
+clearly and distinctly, "Possibly, but it does not interest me, and you
+can tell him from me that I do not remember it!"
+
+"How young you look when you're angry, Wjera," said Mimi Dey, laughing,
+"the old demon flashes in your eyes when you're vexed."
+
+"There's a deal of pleasure in playing whist with you, Ossi," exclaimed
+Truyn at the same moment,--he was Oswald's partner,--"that's five
+trumps that you have thrown away--I had a slam in my hand."
+
+"How could I guess that you had anything in diamonds?"
+
+"I led."
+
+"Clubs."
+
+"No, diamonds! Just look."
+
+"Don't you think that Ossi, when he puts on that gloomy face, looks
+astonishingly like young Capriani?" observed Pistasch.
+
+No longer master of himself Oswald threw his cards down on the table.
+
+"Come, come, behave yourself, Ossi," said Truyn.
+
+"There's no use in trying to jest with you: you are as sensitive as a
+commoner," grumbled Pistasch.
+
+"Let us rather say as irritable as a crowned head," said Georges
+laughing, "_Les extremes se touchent_."
+
+"I really believe it is the reappearance of your old family spectre
+which must have affected your nerves lately, Ossi," Pistasch said
+innocently.
+
+"Which family spectre are you talking of?" asked Oswald hoarsely.
+
+"Have you several of them then?" asked Pistasch. "I know only of the
+blind one that laughs--my man told me to-day while I was dressing that
+it has been heard laughing again. The butler had told him so."
+
+"The gardener was talking to me of it to-day too," said Georges, "but I
+told him that there have been no ghosts since '48; ghosts as an
+institution were quite done away with by the March revolution,
+whereupon, as he is an aspiring person addicted to free thinking he
+replied that he had arrived at that same conclusion himself."
+
+"Stupid superstition!" muttered Oswald; then controlling himself by an
+effort he said very quietly, but pale as ashes. "Shall we not have
+another rubber?"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VI.
+
+
+The world of spirits is a favourite topic with your aristocratic
+dilettanti, and every Austrian family _qui se respecte_ has its
+spectre.
+
+The Zinsenburgs have their White Lady, the Truyns their magnificent
+four-in-hand, which, as the fore-runner of any terrible domestic
+calamity, rattles past the windows of the Truynburg in the Bohemian
+forest--no one knows whither or whence.--The Kamenz family have only a
+black hand that inscribes weird characters of fire on the walls; the
+Lodrins have their blind woman who is heard laughing when disgrace or
+misfortune threatens the family. Of all the family spectres in Bohemia
+this laughing, blind woman is the most grisly. Her origin dates from
+dim antiquity. The legend runs that in the eleventh or twelfth century
+a knight, Wolf von Lodrin, married in accordance with a family
+arrangement, but with no love on the bride's part, a beautiful and
+noble maiden. Inflamed with passion for her, and finding it impossible
+to win her affection, in an evil hour, and in a fit of devilish rage,
+he struck her across the face with his riding-whip, and blindness
+followed the blow. Overcome by horror at what he had done the knight
+fell into a brooding melancholy, and at last killed himself. When his
+blind widow was told of it, she laughed; she herself lived to be a
+hundred years old, but after the knight's suicide she never spoke a
+single word,--only every time that any calamity befell the family, or
+one of its sons suffered disgrace she could be heard laughing. It was
+this blind spectre that still haunted Tornow. Formerly she had been
+seen frequently, it was said, a tall figure in grey, with a black
+bandage over her eyes, and an uncanny smile upon her pale lips, and the
+apparition always preceded some dire family misfortune. Her laugh had
+last been heard the day before Oswald's birth, wherefore it was feared
+that either the mother or the child would die, or that the Countess
+would give birth to some monster. But when a beautiful boy was born,
+and the mother recovered after her confinement much sooner than had
+been predicted, the blind Cassandra rather fell into disrepute,
+especially as both the Count and Countess set their faces against any
+belief in her existence, the Count because of his devout religious
+faith, and the Countess because she was too enlightened to encourage
+any such superstition.
+
+Oswald had never bestowed much thought upon the spectre, merely smiling
+in a superior way when it was mentioned, but in the present excited,
+irritated state of his nerves even the superstitious gossip of his old
+servants made an impression upon him. During the rest of the evening,
+however, he put forth all his force to obliterate the impression that
+his irritability at the whist-table had made upon Truyn and Pistasch.
+And he succeeded; but when, after all the guests had departed, he
+retired to his room for the night his strength was exhausted. The old
+torture assailed him, only it was even keener and more agonizing than
+that which he had brought with him from Prague. He tossed his head from
+side to side on his pillow in feverish sleeplessness. Endowed from
+boyhood with that faultless courage which is rather a matter of
+temperament than of education, to-night for the first time in his life
+he was thrilled with a vague dread. Every noise, however slight, made
+him catch his breath with a suffocating sense of oppression.
+
+At last his eyes closed in troubled and restless sleep, but his anguish
+pursued him in his dreams. He seemed to be lying upon a meadow of
+emerald green, with bright flowers blooming all around, and gay
+butterflies fluttering here and there, while above him arched the
+cloudless blue, lit up by golden sunshine. Suddenly he felt the earth
+beneath him move, and he began slowly to sink into it. Overcome with
+horror he tried to arise, but the more he tried the deeper he sank into
+what was loathsome, slimy mud. He awoke, bathed in cold perspiration,
+gasping for breath, his heart beating wildly.
+
+He gazed around; everything wore a weird unwonted look in the
+half-light of the summer night that encircled every object with a halo
+of grey mist. Through the open windows the heavy, sultry air floated in
+and out. He listened,--everywhere was silence, all nature lay as under
+the ban of an evil spell. Then a stir broke the silence,--did something
+rustle softly?--he seemed to hear the very wings of the night-moths
+fluttering above the flowers. His father's death mask glared white
+through the gloom; it grew longer and longer as if fain to descend from
+where it hung---- What was that----? a low chuckle seemed to sound
+behind the very wall beside him! The bodiless shadows floated hither
+and thither and suddenly grouped themselves in one spot; a tall grey
+figure with bandaged eyes and white lips drawn into a scornful smile
+stood leaning against the wall--it moved! It glided to his bed;
+uttering a cry he grasped at it; it vanished and he fell back on his
+pillow.
+
+A few minutes afterward a light step approached his door, the latch was
+cautiously lifted, and his mother in a long white dressing-gown,
+holding a lighted candle in a little flat candlestick, entered. Her
+bedroom was just beneath his, and she had heard his cry. "Ossi!" she
+called gently.
+
+"Yes, mother!"
+
+"What was the matter?"
+
+"I had a bad dream."
+
+She lit the candles upon his table and leaned over him, scanning his
+features, startled by their ghastly pallor. "What is the matter with
+you, Ossi?--I cannot endure any longer to see you silently suffering
+such pain and distress."
+
+"Nothing," he said dully--"nothing."
+
+"Nothing! Can you--will you say that to me,--to me, your mother! A
+while ago, when you returned from Prague, I thought you changed, but
+you soon recovered; yet all last evening I was conscious that you were
+tormented by some secret anguish. For God's sake, tell me what it is."
+As she spoke she stroked his arms soothingly from the shoulder
+downwards. "If you only knew what torture it is to me to see you suffer
+without being able to help you, or at least to share your pain with
+you!"
+
+The nameless magic of her presence affected him more powerfully than
+ever--her tender caress produced in him the delightful, languid
+sensation of convalescence. For a moment he half-resolved to tell her
+everything, that she might once for all allay his pain. But his cheek
+flushed,--how could he?--no, he must master it of himself. He pressed
+both her hands to his lips.--"Do not ask me, mother, I pray you," he
+murmured, "how often must I repeat that I cannot, try as I may, tell
+you everything."
+
+The Countess gravely shook her head. "That excuse does not satisfy me;
+I can understand that it is easier to speak of certain things to a
+father than to a mother, but don't you know that never since your
+boyhood have I tried to keep you in leading-strings? When did I ever
+play the spy upon your actions, or meddle with what did not concern a
+mother?"
+
+"Never, mother dear, so long as I was well and happy," he assented,
+involuntarily adopting a tone of tender raillery, "but, if I happened
+to hang my head,--oh, then, you were sometimes very indiscreet."
+
+"A son who is ill or unhappy is always about two years old for his
+mother," she said. "Come now, confess; I am an old woman, you can speak
+out before me. I am convinced that your exaggerated conscientiousness
+is leading you to magnify some very commonplace affair;--an old love
+scrape is perhaps casting a shadow over your betrothal...."
+
+"You are mistaken, mamma, there is nothing to trouble me in my past; it
+is all as if it had never been."
+
+"Well, then, what troubles you?"
+
+For a moment he did not speak, then he said in a low tone rather
+hastily, "A wretched nervousness--sorry fancies! Can you believe
+it?--just before you came in, I saw plainly, as plainly as I see you,
+the laughing blind woman come towards me!"
+
+"Are you beginning to suffer from the Lodrin hallucinations?" the
+Countess exclaimed.
+
+The 'Lodrin hallucinations,'--she uttered the words carelessly, without
+reflection. His soul drank them in thirstily.
+
+"Apparently, mamma, but I shall get rid of them, I shall certainly get
+rid of them," he replied in a clear, joyous voice.
+
+"And what other fancies did your nerves suggest?" she asked,
+scrutinizing his face anxiously.
+
+"Loathsome imaginings which sullied my heart and soul, and which I
+tried in vain to banish, foul suspicions of those whom I venerate most.
+I was free from them in your presence only, mother, and that is why I
+have come to you so often of late; these phantoms never dare to assail
+me when I am with you!"
+
+The Countess arose and extinguished the candles; for a while there was
+silence.
+
+"Mother," he said softly, and almost overpowered by sleep as he took
+her hand in his, "tell me what it is that rays out from your hallowed
+eyes, with power to chase all shadows from my soul?"
+
+Again there was silence. For a few minutes she listened to his calm
+regular breathing. He had fallen asleep.
+
+With hands folded in her lap, deadly pale, and with a look of horror in
+her eyes, she remained seated on the edge of the bed. The day had just
+dawned when she arose. Oswald half awoke and opened his eyes. "You here
+still, mamma? Oh what a delicious sleep I have had!"
+
+"Sleep on, my child," she whispered, leaning over him and kissing his
+brow, before she left the room. She glided slowly along the corridor,
+her hand upon her heart. "Shall I have the strength," she murmured,
+"shall I have the strength?"
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII.
+
+
+If he could only have got hold of these Lodrins,--if he could only have
+found an opportunity to speak with them, he could have humbled their
+pride before now, the Conte said to himself. He was still endeavouring
+to find some such opportunity; yesterday he had positively forced his
+friend the Baroness Melkweyser to drive over at last to Tornow to lay
+at the feet of the Countess Lodrin the antique set of china, albeit not
+in the name of the Conte Capriani, but of her humble servant, Doctor
+Alfred Stein. He was curious to hear what Zoe would have to tell, but
+after her return from Tornow Zoe had incontinently retired to her
+apartment with a violent headache, and the request that a cup of strong
+tea might be sent to her.
+
+The headache lasted all through the next forenoon to the great vexation
+of the Conte, who was, moreover, in extreme bad humour. He was annoyed
+by a trifle, a perfectly absurd trifle, but it had sufficed to stir up
+all the gall in his nature. His _maitre d'hotel_ had given him warning
+this morning, or, as that worthy expressed it, had handed in his
+resignation. When the Conte, who set great store by him, asked him his
+reason for so doing, and whether his salary was not sufficiently large,
+Monsieur Leloir, with the respectful air proper to the well-trained
+servant that he was, but with a distinctness that left nothing to be
+desired, replied that the salary corresponded to his wishes, and he had
+nothing to object to in the treatment that he had received, but--he
+felt too lonely, secluded,--"_Monsieur le Comte voit trop peu de
+monde_."
+
+Two highly satisfactory messages, brought him shortly afterwards by the
+telegraph that connected his study at Schneeburg with the business
+world, did not suffice to drive this vexatious occurrence from his
+mind. He looked considerably sallower than usual when he appeared at
+lunch. All the rest were seated at table when the Baroness Melkweyser
+appeared. In her character of convalescent she wore a gorgeous, brocade
+dressing-gown upon which was portrayed a forest of gigantic sunflowers
+against an olive-green background. Otherwise she betrayed no indication
+of feeble health; her appetite was particularly reassuring.
+
+"You are very subject to headache nowadays," said the Conte, in a tone
+of reproof.
+
+Instead of replying Zoe helped herself for the second time to omelette
+with truffles, and Parmesan cheese.
+
+"Perhaps the long drive was too fatiguing," suggested the mistress of
+the house, always kindly desirous of atoning for her husband's
+rudeness.
+
+"Had you a pleasant visit at Tornow?" asked Fermor.
+
+"It is always pleasant to see dear old friends again," said Zoe curtly.
+Her mood was undeniably irritable; apparently she had laid in a stock
+of arrogance at Tornow, that would last her several days.
+
+"I really must go over to Tornow," said Fermor, "I trust, Baroness,
+that you did not mention my having been here so long; the Countess
+might well think it very strange that I had not been over to see her."
+Kilary smiled, and Fermor went on in his affected, drawling way. "Very
+admirable people, the Lodrins, but they are not very interesting to
+me;--they are too matter-of-fact;--they have too little feeling for
+art."
+
+After lunch, whilst Fermor was testifying to the depth of his feeling
+for art, by improvising on the grand piano an accompaniment to a new
+ode by Paul Angelico, who, in his immortal waterproof, draped like
+Sophocles, stood opposite and read the ode aloud in a sonorous voice
+out of a little volume bound in red morocco, Capriani took occasion to
+draw Zoe Melkweyser aside that he might ask: "Did you have any
+opportunity yesterday to deliver my message to the Countess Lodrin?"
+
+"Yes," replied Zoe drily.
+
+"And what answer have you brought me?"
+
+"The Countess says she is quite ready to purchase the china of you."
+
+"To purchase it of me!" repeated the Conte, pale with anger, "but my
+dear Zoe,"--in moments of great excitement the Conte was wont to call
+the Baroness by her first name,--"but my dear Zoe what did you propose
+to her?"
+
+"Exactly what you told me."
+
+"Indeed?"--the Count drew closer to her, and leaned forward,--"did you
+tell her that I laid the china at her feet, not in the name of the
+Count Capriani, but of the Doctor Stein whom she knew years ago in the
+Riviera?"
+
+"Yes, and I told her that you said you had formerly attended the Count,
+her husband."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"She replied--do you really wish to hear her reply."
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Well, then, she replied, 'that may possibly be so, but I do not
+remember it.'"
+
+The Conte grew still paler, and his face wore an ugly expression;--he
+picked up a paper-knife of beautiful oriental workmanship, and began to
+toy with it restlessly.
+
+"I beg you to observe," Zoe began, "that I am entirely innocent in this
+matter. You certainly remember that I postponed for weeks the delivery
+of your message, and that I fulfilled your commission reluctantly at
+last. I told you beforehand what the result would be; but you were so
+perfectly sure that the Countess would remember the name of Stein...."
+
+"What's the matter?" asked Kilary approaching them. "What agitates you
+so, my dear Capriani."
+
+"The Conte is determined to prove to me that nothing can withstand his
+power, not even a paperknife," said Zoe sharply, pointing to the one
+which the Conte was bending.
+
+"Or the Lodrin arrogance," observed Kilary, "eh? My dear Capriani, in
+my native town in Upper Austria they have an old proverb, 'What can't
+be lifted must be let alone.' Now if you would only take this proverb
+to heart you would save yourself a vast amount of time and vexation."
+
+Just then the paper-knife snapped in two, and the Conte threw the
+pieces on the floor.
+
+"Who is riding past?" asked the baroness, with undisguised curiosity,
+leaning out of the window by which she had been standing.
+
+"It must be Count Kamenz," said Ad'lin, who had been busy encouraging
+by her applause the united, artistic efforts of Fermor and Paul
+Angelico, "I am surprised that he has not paid us a visit before now."
+
+"No, it is the Lodrin cousins," said Kilary, "they are evidently going
+to see Malzin."
+
+Ad'lin looked disappointed. And the Conte turning away from the
+Baroness and Kilary began to pace the room slowly to and fro. After a
+while he paused in front of his wife, who with a sadder face than usual
+was cutting out her cretonne flowers. "You went to see the Malzins
+to-day,--how is he?"
+
+"Very ill; unlike other consumptives, he is perfectly aware of his
+condition, and consequently the future of his children lies heavy on
+his heart. I did my best to comfort him--but that was little enough."
+"Do you know whether he still proposes to go to Gleichenberg?" her
+husband interrupted her.
+
+"Yes, he is getting ready to go. Mueller, the old nurse voluntarily
+offered to accompany him; she could not find it in her heart to have
+him waited upon and tended by strangers."
+
+But Mueller's touching devotion did not interest Capriani in the least.
+"This is evidently just the time to talk with him about the vault," he
+said as if to himself.
+
+"What do you mean?" exclaimed Frau von Capriani startled out of her
+usual submissive gentleness,--"with an invalid!" ....
+
+"Come, come, let us have no sentimentality!" he interrupted her
+sharply. "You know I understand nothing of the kind."
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER VIII.
+
+
+In his childhood, beside his father's sick-bed, Oswald had learned how
+to treat an invalid with rare tenderness; but what he never had been
+taught nor could have been taught,--what was his very own nature,--was
+his impetuous, untiring kindheartedness, a kindheartedness that was
+never content with passively theorizing, but always refused to
+discontinue effort even in the case of the most distressing
+emergencies, and always longed to soothe with hope the pain which it
+could not cure.
+
+Fritz, on the day after the dinner, had sent a note to Tornow, telling
+of his sad condition and of his projected journey to Gleichenberg, and
+Oswald and Georges had instantly ridden over to Schneeburg, where they
+found Fritz coughing incessantly, propped up with pillows in a large
+easy-chair before his writing-table, painfully endeavouring to write
+out his last will. Ten minutes of Oswald's presence sufficed to cause
+life to wear a different aspect for Fritz. Oswald scolded him for
+giving them all such a fright with that desponding note of his,
+protested that a man looking as well as he did had no right to depress
+his friends with melancholy forebodings, told of the miracles wrought
+by Gleichenberg on many of his acquaintances, and declared that 'a mere
+hemorrhage' was of very little consequence, particularly in cases like
+Fritz's where consumption was not in the family.
+
+"I had one, when I was a volunteer, after parade one day," he
+concluded, "and I never should know it to-day."
+
+"That must have been something different, Ossi," said Fritz, laughing
+at his friend's earnestness;--the laugh brought on a violent fit of
+coughing. Oswald put his arm around him and supported his head;--"it
+will soon be over, hand him a glass of water, Georges, there...."
+
+"However low down a fellow may be, it lightens his heart to look into
+your eyes, Ossi," said Fritz, taking breath after the cough had gone.
+
+"You're right there, Fritz," Georges agreed, "and yet there's no more
+inflammable, and momentarily unjust man in the world, than he."
+
+"Yes, but then...." began Fritz.
+
+"Now be quiet," Oswald ordered, "the best thing for you to do would be
+to lie down for a while, and we will do our best to entertain you
+without making you laugh."
+
+"Thanks," said Fritz, "but I .... I should like to say something to you.
+When a man stands on the brink of the grave...."
+
+"Aha, you are posing again as an interesting invalid," Oswald rallied
+him; "well--Georges, go down stairs and pay your respects to Pipsi,
+there's a good fellow; I hear her chattering with her little brother
+beneath the window;--I know how pleased Fritz is with your visit, but,
+just now, you are a little in the way."
+
+Georges laughed, and withdrew bowing low.
+
+They were left alone in the long, low room; against the windows the
+leaves of the old apricot-trees rustled dreamily, and the air was
+fragrant with the scent of the last flowers of summer. The portraits of
+Fritz's parents and of their Imperial Majesties looked down from the
+wall, their outlines rather vague in the darkened apartment, and on the
+old door-jamb, scored with the children's names a prismatic sunbeam was
+playing.
+
+"Now tell me, Fritz, what is the matter? You know there is no need of
+any beating about the bush between us," said Oswald leaning towards the
+sick man, "speak low, I can hear you."
+
+Fritz fixed his gaze upon the door-jamb where among the old names two
+new ones had been written, 'Pipsi five, Franzi three years old.' "God
+knows, I have no reason to cling to life," he said with a sigh, "and
+yet my heart is sore at the thought that next year I shall--make no
+mark there!--Poor children!--who will care for them when I am gone?"
+His voice broke, and it was with difficulty that he kept back the
+tears. "I have taken a great deal of pains with them, and hitherto they
+have been good little things,--at least so they seem to me ...."
+
+"Your children are charming," was Oswald's warm assurance.
+
+"Are they not?" gasped Fritz, and his hollow eyes sparkled, "but they
+are still so little--when I am dead they will run wild. Capriani will
+not let them starve--assuredly not; but _how_ will he provide for
+them?--and my wife agrees with him in everything--that is the worst of
+it;--Ossi, in my will I have expressed a wish that my children should
+be separated from their mother. She does not care for them very much; I
+think she would be glad to be rid of the burden of bringing them
+up .... and I have begged you--you will not take it ill of me, Ossi,...."
+he hesitated.
+
+"Would you like me to be their guardian?"
+
+"Ah, Ossi!"
+
+"Then that is settled," said Oswald, holding out his hand, "and,
+moreover, my mother told me to tell you that when I am married she
+should have nothing more to do, and would take pleasure in attending to
+the education of your little ones. You can hardly ask anything better
+for them."
+
+"Ah, Ossi, your mother is an angel!"
+
+"Indeed she is," said Oswald gravely.
+
+"She is well?"
+
+"No, she was very weary to-day at dinner, she had a sleepless night
+from anxiety on my account--my poor mother! And now since your mind is
+easy on all points, old fellow, it is to be hoped that you'll torment
+yourself no longer with gloomy forebodings, but do your best to get
+well and strong. Let us recall our poor exiled Georges, shall we
+not--_ca_! who's there? some one knocked!"
+
+"Come in!" said Fritz.
+
+Conte Capriani entered, a roll of parchment in his hand.
+
+Oswald winced.
+
+"For Heaven's sake stay," panted Fritz, holding his friend fast by the
+wrist.
+
+"Yes, pray stay, my dear Count," said Capriani, who must have heard
+Fritz's words, or had understood his gesture. "I knew that I should
+meet you here, but what I have to arrange with our friend, Malzin,
+might as well be discussed before a hundred witnesses. I am really glad
+to see you again--our last conversation came to so sudden a
+termination," and the Conte familiarly held out his hand to the young
+man.
+
+Oswald measured him from head to foot with a haughty glance, and put
+his hand in his pocket. Then leaning his elbow upon the high back of
+Fritz's easy-chair, he stood motionless while Capriani angrily pushed a
+chair near to the table and sat down.
+
+"So, my dear Malzin, you are off for Gleichenberg," he began, with his
+left thumb stuck into the arm-hole of his waistcoat, and his right hand
+resting on the roll of parchment on his knee.
+
+Oswald's gaze was fixed with a strange curiosity upon the face of the
+stock-gambler; all the loathsome ideas which had sullied his soul of
+late recurred to him; how disgraceful, nay how ridiculous his foul
+suspicions seemed when confronted with the flesh and blood Capriani.
+
+Meanwhile the Conte, irritated to the last degree by the young Count's
+cold stare, continued, "You must, of course, be desirous of settling
+your affairs, Malzin, before your departure. Under present
+circumstances you ought to be glad to be able to provide for the future
+of your children."
+
+"Certainly; I have discussed it fully with my relatives," murmured
+Fritz, trembling with agitation, and clasping his thin hands on the
+table.
+
+"Discussed?--that can lead to nothing," Capriani asserted, "I see, I
+see, the same loose way of attending to business. A matter of such
+importance ought to be definitely settled. It is time for you to listen
+to reason, as regards that vault; of course we all hope that you will
+return from Gleichenberg sound and well, but we must be prepared for
+the worst. If you close your eyes to this you leave your children
+unprovided for, and you, you alone will be to blame, seeing that by
+merely executing this deed of sale for that burial-vault--downright
+rubbish--you will receive the extremely handsome and liberal sum of
+thirty thousand gulden. Now, pray be reasonable."
+
+The Conte spread the parchment out on the table before Fritz, dipped a
+pen in the ink, and handed it to him.
+
+The tears came into the wretched man's eyes. "My poor children!" he
+groaned and took the pen.
+
+On the instant Oswald snatched the fateful parchment from the table,
+and threw it on the floor; "You shall not sign it, Fritz!" he
+exclaimed, his voice hoarse with indignation; then turning to the
+Conte, he said sharply, "You see that my cousin is not equal to the
+excitement of an interview like the present. May I beg you to leave
+us?"
+
+The Conte sprang up, his breath came in quick gasps, and a dark menace
+shot from the eyes that he rivetted upon the young man's face.
+
+"May I beg you to leave the room," Oswald repeated with icy disdain.
+
+"You show me to the door?"--the Conte said, beside himself with
+rage,--"you dare to do this to me--you--were not my hints the other day
+plain enough?...."
+
+Oswald lost all self-control; "Scoundrel! Liar!" he gasped hoarsely.
+His riding-whip lay on the table--he seized it and pointed to the door;
+"Begone!" he thundered.
+
+For an instant Capriani hesitated, baleful threatening flashing in his
+eyes. "I am going," he said, "but you shall hear from me!" and the door
+closed behind him.
+
+Quivering with rage, Oswald turned about. "My God! Fritz ....!" he
+exclaimed in terror. Fritz had risen from his chair, and after
+advancing a step, had fallen drenched in blood beside his couch!
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER IX.
+
+
+The hemorrhage had at last been arrested, the doctor sent for, and the
+sick man put to bed. Oswald was sitting beside him, awaiting the
+arrival of the physician. From time to time he whispered a comforting
+word to the invalid or gave him a bit of ice. Some one gently lifted
+the latch of the door. "Ossi!" Georges called softly.
+
+"Well?"
+
+"Capriani has sent this note to you."
+
+"To me? Let me have it."
+
+Oswald took the note and retired to the bedside again. Shortly
+afterward he appeared in the adjoining room where Georges was, his eyes
+filled with gloom, his face ghastly pale.
+
+"What does the dog say?"
+
+"He asks where his second can find me, as I might not like to receive
+him beneath my mother's roof. He is right--!"
+
+"Second?" Georges interrupted him. "Have you quarrelled?"
+
+"Yes, he was insolent to me and to Fritz, and so I called him a
+scoundrel and turned him out of the room."
+
+"And you are going to accept his challenge?"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+"You, you mean to fight with Conte Capriani--with a wretched swindler,
+with no claim to the satisfaction of a gentleman? Are you insane? Do
+you not see how such a duel must degrade you?--Show me his letter that
+I may know what to do, and then let me go to him. I assure you that the
+matter can be settled in a quarter of an hour; it is nothing but empty
+brag on his part."
+
+"I tell you that I insist upon this duel," exclaimed Oswald, beside
+himself.
+
+"Upon a duel with an adventurer who, with his money, comes from no one
+knows where? It is impossible, downright impossible! Show me his
+letter."
+
+Oswald changed colour, felt in his pocket--"I have not got it,--I threw
+it away--" he stammered disconnectedly, "moreover, the letter has
+nothing to do with the matter. Go to him,--it is against all rule,--but
+I will not have his seconds cross my threshold. One second is enough
+for me, I will not have another dragged into this disgusting affair.
+Arrange everything with Kilary, and as soon as possible--pistols!"
+
+"Pistols?--at thirty-five paces?"
+
+"Fifteen if he chooses,--or for all I care across a handkerchief!"
+
+Georges went close up to his cousin, and looked into his eyes as if to
+read his very soul; then he drew a long breath and said, "You are not
+alone in the world, Ossi,--you have a mother and a betrothed who
+idolize you! and yet you would hazard your life for the sake of a
+single angry outburst, for a mere whim; you would accept the challenge
+of a man who, spurred on by envy and wounded vanity, is capable of
+anything, and to die by whose hand could only disgrace you? And all
+because--because you are possessed for the moment by some fixed
+delusion which makes life intolerable to you!" Oswald winced. Georges
+went on, "The only one who could gain anything by your death is
+myself,--and God knows I would give my life at any moment to save
+yours! I do not grudge you the position that you occupy."
+
+"What do you mean? What stuff are you talking," Oswald interrupted
+him imperiously; his face was still ashy pale, and his voice sounded
+harsh--"'You do not grudge me the position that I occupy!'--Perhaps you
+think you have a right to it?"
+
+"But, Ossi!--How can you--? you are beside yourself--you are insane!"
+ejaculated Georges, utterly confounded.
+
+"Yes, yes,--I have known it for some time, Georges, I am losing my
+reason!" Oswald murmured in broken, weary tones. He groped for support,
+sank into a chair, and covering his face with his hands, sobbed like a
+child.
+
+There was a long pause. At last Oswald raised his head. "Now, go!" he
+said in a sharp tone of command, such as he had never before used to
+his cousin. "Go to him--pistols--and soon. If you will not go, I will
+send Pistasch,--judge for yourself whether that would improve matters!"
+
+And Georges shrugged his shoulders and went.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER X.
+
+
+As soon as he was alone Oswald took the Conte's fateful letter from his
+pocket, and read it through once more.
+
+No! he had read it aright, there it stood in black and
+white!.... "After what I have thus told you," so the letter concluded,
+"it is evident that a duel between us two can be nothing but a mere
+formality--it is, however, a formality which I demand as due to my
+honour as a man ...."
+
+He must go to his mother and show her the letter; there was nothing
+else to be done--nothing--! He must know whether he had the right to
+shoot him down like a dog, or .... He was overcome by a sudden
+dizziness, and the thought occurred to him, 'What if I should faint
+away, and some one should find this letter here and read it--!' He
+rose, lit a match and burnt the letter, with a feeling akin to relief
+when nothing remained of the disgraceful document, save a few ashes.
+
+George's words recurred to him; evidently Georges suspected something
+wrong, that was clear,--but what? the contents of that letter he could
+not suspect. But what if it were true? What if some one should discover
+it? Every one would flee from him, even those who had loved him most.
+And on a sudden he himself felt a fearful, paralysing disgust at the
+blood in his veins! A dull lump seemed to rise in his throat,--it
+choked him. 'But it cannot be,' he said to himself, 'it cannot be.'
+Then he sat still for a long time, scarcely daring even to think; he
+himself did not know for how long, but when at last the door opened and
+Georges entered, he noticed that it had begun to grow dark.
+
+"Well--the affair is settled!" began Georges gloomily.
+
+"For when?"
+
+"To-morrow morning at six o'clock--devil that he is, it could not be
+soon enough for him; he pretended that he must leave for Paris in the
+evening; probably he thought that if the duel were delayed you might
+reconsider it, and instead of giving him satisfaction for the insult of
+which he complains, add to it the thrashing which he deserves."
+
+Oswald sat leaning his head on his hand and did not speak.
+
+"God knows, I would not have gone to him," Georges went on, "if I had
+not hoped to arrange matters amicably, even against your will,--if I
+had not thought I could persuade him to withdraw his crazy challenge!
+But the swindler has resolved to fight you; it is the greatest social
+triumph that he has achieved in all the years that he has been trying
+to climb. Kilary told me, in so many words, that it was only for show,
+that it was to be a mere formality,--but--. Even that cynic, Kilary,
+declares that he cannot understand your condescension. Well, you rank
+so high in public opinion, that people will only wonder at your
+eccentricity. Will you say good-bye to Fritz, or shall we go
+immediately?"
+
+Fritz had fallen asleep, Oswald would not disturb him, and so they rode
+off.
+
+There must have been a storm in the neighbourhood; the air had grown
+cooler, a light wind whirled the dust aloft. Heavy broken clouds were
+driving overhead, and where the sun had set there was a glow as of a
+conflagration, as if the sun in descending had set fire to the clouds.
+The red light slowly faded, and all colours were merged in melancholy,
+uniform gray.
+
+The two men rode on in silence, which was broken at last by Oswald;
+"Georges, I know that if this affair turns out badly to-morrow you will
+be blamed for your share in it, blameless though you be. Wherefore I
+will leave a letter behind me, telling how I absolutely forced you to
+be my second."
+
+"What an idea!" exclaimed Georges angrily; then he added
+affectionately--"if so terrible a misfortune should occur, I should
+have neither heart nor head to care what people said! Moreover, after
+what Kilary told me, there can be no chance of any tragical conclusion
+to the affair."
+
+"One never can tell," rejoined Oswald.
+
+Georges was startled, and after a short pause began. "Don't be
+childish, Ossi! It depends entirely upon you whether this duel ends
+harmlessly or not;--there's not much honour to be gained in provoking a
+mad dog. Since you condescend--to my utter mystification--to fight with
+Capriani, do not irritate him by disdainful conduct on the ground. A
+very minute portion of courtesy will suffice to satisfy him,--but thus
+much is absolutely necessary!"
+
+Oswald made no reply. After a while he turned his horse. "Where are you
+going?" asked Georges.
+
+In a constrained, unnatural voice Oswald replied. "You ride on towards
+home, I should like to go to Rautschin to see Gabrielle, before...."
+
+Georges, who had failed to understand so much in his cousin's behaviour
+through the day, thought this desire at least quite natural. He let
+Oswald go, and rode on alone to Tornow. He looked round once after
+Oswald, and was surprised to see him ride so slowly,--he was walking
+his horse.
+
+What the young man wanted was,--not to clasp his betrothed in his
+arms,--all that he wanted by this prolongation of his ride was the
+postponement of the interview with his mother. When he reached
+Rautschin he stopped short and looked up at the windows of the castle.
+He thought of the first happy days of his betrothal in Paris; image
+after image passed before his mind with beguiling sweetness;--for a
+moment he forgot everything.
+
+The windows of the corner drawing-room where the family were wont to
+pass their evenings were open;--he listened. He could hear them
+talking, and could distinguish Zinka's soft, somewhat veiled tones, and
+the sweet, childlike voice of his betrothed, but without catching her
+words;--once he heard her laugh merrily, almost ungovernably. When was
+it that he had last heard that very laugh? He shuddered,--it was on the
+evening of his betrothal in the Avenue Labedoyere--when Zoe Melkweyser
+had unfolded her ridiculous mission.
+
+And from out the past resounded distinctly on his ear; "Gabrielle and
+the son of the Conte Capriani--! Gabrielle and the son of Capriani!"
+
+He struck his forehead with his fist.--Over the low wall on this side
+of the castle, that separated the park from the road, hung the branch
+of a rose-bush heavy with Marechale Niel roses. Oswald plucked one,
+kissed it, and tossed it through the open window of the drawing-room.
+"Good-night, Gabrielle!" he called up.
+
+When she came to the window to bid him welcome, she saw only a horseman
+enveloped in a cloud of dust trotting quickly past the castle in the
+direction of the little town.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XI.
+
+
+Night had set in, and Oswald had not yet returned to Tornow. The
+Countess was waiting for him, sitting beside a table whereon stood a
+lamp with a rose-coloured shade. Georges had told her that her boy had
+gone round by the way of Rautschin, which she had thought quite
+natural, but none the less was she anxious for his return.
+
+The clock struck a quarter past ten; perhaps he had returned after all
+and had not come to her. But no, he would certainly have come to ask
+after her health; he had thought her looking ill to-day, and had been
+anxious about her, had tenderly begged her to lie down for a while to
+recover the sleep that she had lost on his account. She had tried to
+smile at him unconcernedly, but it had been a hard task; a casual
+remark by Pistasch that morning had informed her of Oswald's interview
+with Capriani in Prague, at which no one else had been present, and
+which had agitated him excessively. She divined his misery. His love
+for her, and his confidence in her were so unbounded that he regarded
+his torturing suspicion as an _idee fixe_. Perhaps this temporary
+distress of his would pass away without its cause ever being mentioned
+between them. God grant it might! But if not? If he should come to
+her to-day or to-morrow and say 'Mother I cannot of myself be rid of
+this,--forgive me, mother, if I lay down at your feet this burden that
+oppresses me, and beg you to soothe my pain!'
+
+She shuddered as this possibility occurred to her. What answer should
+she make? 'Shall I have the strength to lie?' she asked herself, and
+then she told herself, 'I must find the strength; what do I care about
+myself? My whole life for years has been falsehood and deceit,--but he
+must have peace--his life I must save!'
+
+She knew that if she could succeed in uttering this lie calmly, his
+suspicion would be laid at rest forever, that no evidence in the world
+would prevail with him against her word. How she should continue to
+live on after this lie, was quite another thing, but she could die, and
+God knew she would willingly lay down her life for her child.
+
+She tried to shake off these evil forebodings. All that she dreaded
+might never come to pass; surely she might succeed, by preserving a
+calm, circumspect demeanour, in slaying his doubt, in destroying his
+suspicion without recurring to a direct falsehood.
+
+Poor woman! Upright to a rare degree as was her nature in its essence,
+it became distorted beneath the terrible burden weighing on her, and
+she was ready to resort to every petty artifice that could afford her
+any stay in her miserably false position! She had buried her sin deep,
+deep, and had reared above it a wondrous temple sacred to all that is
+fairest, noblest, and most unselfish in the world. So grand and firm
+was this temple towering aloft to the blue skies, that she dreamed it
+would endure forever. She trusted it would. Out of love for her child
+she had grown devout. For years she had prayed the same prayer every
+evening: "Oh God! I thank Thee for my dear, noble child--accept his
+excellence, as an atonement for my sin!"
+
+She believed that God had heeded her prayer, nay, she even believed, in
+her boundless affection for her child, that God had wrought a miracle
+in her behalf! She forgot that the great mysterious Power that shapes
+our destinies never transgresses the laws that it has made, and that
+the consequences of our guilt inexorably pursue their way, until their
+natural expiation is fulfilled. In this case that expiation took a
+shape far different from any that a mother's tender heart could have
+devised.
+
+The clock had struck eleven. Her anxiety increased although she could
+not have defined her dread. Her windows were open, she listened;--at
+last there was the sound of hoofs, the jingle of a bit and bridle. She
+breathed a sigh of relief.
+
+A few moments elapsed, and then a weary, lagging step came along the
+corridor to her door;--why did that step instantly reveal to her that
+the decisive moment had come? There was a knock at her door,--Oswald
+entered. "Forgive me for disturbing you so late, mamma," he said in a
+tone lacking all animation, "I saw your light from below...."
+
+"Late?--it is hardly eleven o'clock; you know that you never disturb
+me, dear child. Since when have you learned to knock at my door? The
+next thing you will send in your name."
+
+The forced gayety of her tone did not escape him. "Oh, I did not
+know--I--" he murmured vaguely, dropping, without kissing, the hand
+which she extended to him; then he took a seat near her, but outside of
+the little oasis of light shed by the lamp on the table beside the
+Countess.
+
+"You came home by the way of Rautschin?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are they all well there?"
+
+"I do not know; I did not go in, it was too late."
+
+"And Fritz? How is the poor fellow?"
+
+"Very ill!"
+
+"Did you give him my message?"
+
+"Yes, he sends you his thanks."
+
+Oswald seemed metamorphosed. Never before had he answered her so
+curtly; she glanced at him anxiously, he was sitting leaning forward,
+his elbows on his knees, his head resting on his hand like one longing
+to carry out a terrible resolve.
+
+A distressing silence ensues. He feels as if he were about to ask of a
+competent authority whether or not there be a God. He cannot bring
+himself to do it, and then too how shall he shape the fearful
+question?--how can he utter anything so vile in her presence?--he who
+all his lifelong would rather have blasphemed in a church than have
+spoken an evil syllable before his mother!
+
+The minutes pass; tick, tick, goes the antique watch with the silver
+face on the Countess's writing-table. He clears his throat.
+
+"Mother!" he begins.
+
+She interrupts him. "I feel very ill, Ossi!" she says, rising with
+difficulty from her arm-chair, "give me your arm, I should like to go
+to bed."
+
+But he gently urges her back in her chair again. "Only a moment,
+mother; I have something to say to you,--I cannot spare you!"
+
+"Well--say it then!" She sits erect, deadly pale, clutching the arms of
+her chair; he stands before her, one hand resting on the table, his
+eyes cast down.
+
+"It will not pass my lips," he murmurs, "it will not;--my _idee fixe_
+has assailed me again with a strength that I cannot master, try
+as I may,--it perverts and absorbs my sense of duty, my
+conscientiousness.--Mother....!" the blood rushes to his face,
+"Mother--could you forgive me if, in a fit of madness, I struck you in
+the face?"
+
+Can she ever forget the imploring, despairing tone of his voice?
+
+"Yes, what do you wish?--I cannot understand--" she stammers.
+
+He gazes at her in surprise. "Mother!" he exclaims--his breath comes
+short and quick, when, as though repeating memorised phrases, he says,
+"Capriani and I have quarrelled--to revenge himself upon me he has
+written me a letter in which he says that you----" he sees her sudden
+start--"Great God! can you dream of what he accuses you?"
+
+She gasps for breath, her lips part, she tries with all her strength to
+say "no!"--has God stricken her dumb? Struggle as she may only a faint
+gasp issues from her lips, no word can she speak!
+
+"Mother!" he moans, "Mother!" She is mute.
+
+The ground seems to rock beneath his feet, the outlines of every object
+grow indistinct, dissolve into undefined spots of colour which fade and
+mingle.
+
+For a moment he stands as if turned to stone; then he turns towards the
+door, walking slowly as if under a crushing weight,--on a sudden he
+hears the rustle of skirts behind him, two frail, ice-cold hands clasp
+his arm;--half-fainting his mother crouches beside him on the floor.
+"My son! my child!" she gasps "Have mercy!"
+
+But he loosens the clasp of her hands, without impatience, without
+anger, with the apathy of a man whose heart has been slain in his
+breast, and leaves the room.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XII.
+
+
+It was over,--over and gone,--sentence had been pronounced,--her
+child's life was destroyed. This she repeated to herself again and
+again, without any clear comprehension of the fact, as she lay, still
+half-stunned, on the floor where she had sunk down when he left her.
+After a while she staggered to her feet, and began to move aimlessly to
+and fro, steadying herself at times by grasping a chair or table. At
+last she sank into a seat, her memory had given way;--she asked herself
+the meaning of the dull weight at her heart, her eyes wandered vaguely
+around, her thoughts dazed by agony groped backward through the past,
+and forward through the future, finding no resting-place. She recalled
+her child's birth, and how every one rejoiced in it, except herself;
+when the doctor showed her the little thing as a perfect model of a
+baby, did she not thrust it from her impatiently? Farther back, beyond
+Oswald's birth, all light faded--everything was dark. That within her
+which had sinned had been so long, so completely dead; a woman capable
+of such a lofty ideal, whom maternal affection had so entirely purified
+and refined, could not but lose all comprehension of her past. All her
+inner life preceding the hours of Oswald's life, was to her mental
+consciousness misty and undefined; the birth of her child had revealed
+a new world to her, and though for years she had denied it, and had
+crushed down the mother in her, it was none the less true that after
+his birth she had no interest save her child. Urgent regard for her
+health prompted the physician to order that she should nourish
+the boy herself, if only for the first two months of his life; she
+obeyed him fretfully, eyeing the child suspiciously--nay, well-nigh
+malignantly,--when it was first placed in her arms, and then .... then
+she enjoyed it, and longed for the hours when her baby was to be
+brought to her, and when the two months were over, and the physician
+informed her that she could now without detriment to her health hand
+over the child to a hired nurse, she was angry, and felt strangely
+vexed with the man, who after all had thought only to please her in
+relieving her of what he supposed was an intolerable burden. What was
+intolerable to her was the idea of laying her child on the breast of a
+stranger, and for an instant she was on the point of flatly refusing to
+do it. But no, that would have been too eccentric, and she gave the boy
+up. For a couple of days she feared she should lose her reason, so
+consumed was she with restless jealousy; she could not sleep at night,
+and when the hours came round at which her baby had usually been
+brought to her, she trembled from head to foot, and sometimes burst
+into tears of agitation and longing. She could not forget the warm
+little bundle that had lain upon her knees, and the boy had thriven so
+well in her arms, had begun to be so pretty, to smile back at her and
+to gaze slowly about him in solemn surprise, after the fashion of such
+human atomies, to whom everything around is strange, and a deep
+mystery. Still she conquered herself and avoided all sight of the
+child, trying to divert her mind, but--'the wine of life was drawn.'
+
+The child's existence caused her infinite torment; she was not one whom
+shams could satisfy. She called everything by its right name, and this
+foisting of a false heir upon the Lodrins she called, in her soul a
+crime. Sometimes she wished he would die--that would have untangled
+everything;--good Heavens! how many children die! but he--was never
+even ill, he throve and grew strong.
+
+The Count, who had never before ventured upon the slightest
+remonstrances with his headstrong wife, now reproached her continually
+for her neglect of the child. She listened to him with brows gloomily
+contracted and lips compressed, but said not a word in reply. In winter
+she could contrive never to see the boy, but in summer this was more
+difficult, especially at times when her husband declared that he could
+receive no guests at the castle, that he wished to be alone. She
+could hardly set foot in the park without hearing soft childish
+laughter, or without seeing some plaything, or the gleam of a little
+white dress among the bushes. Once, on a lovely day in June, after a
+thunder-shower, as she was walking in the park she suddenly noticed two
+tiny footprints on the damp gravel. She stood still, her eyes riveted
+upon the delicate outlines, when from the shrubbery close at hand a
+little creature toddled up to her, grasped her dress with his chubby
+hands and looked up roguishly at her out of his large dark eyes. But
+she extricated herself, and hurried past the little man so quickly and
+impatiently, that he lost his balance and fell down. What else could
+she do but turn and look at him....? Had he cried like other children
+of his age it would probably have made no impression upon her; but he
+sat stock-still, his little legs stretched out straight, and gazed at
+her in indignant surprise like, a little king to whom homage had been
+denied. He could not understand it. He was a comical little fellow,
+with tiny red shoes, a white frock that did not reach to his bare
+knees, and a broad-brimmed, starched, linen hat tied beneath his chin,
+shading his charming little face. In a flash her heart was conscious of
+a consuming thirst; she stooped and lifted him in her arms.
+
+Some children there are who dislike to be caressed, and will fretfully
+turn away their heads from their mother's kisses, but little Ossi was
+of a different stamp, and responded with a bewitching readiness to his
+mother's tenderness, nestling his head on her shoulder with a satisfied
+chuckle, and pressing his little lips to her cheek. For just one moment
+she resolved to yield, she would forget everything, and take her fill
+of kisses, and of delight in his beauty, in his bright eager looks, and
+in the droll way in which words, robbed of every harsh consonant by
+rosy little lips, came rippling like the twittering of birds.
+
+"Papa!--Papa!" the child shouted. She looked round,--there stood the
+old Count watching her in mute delight.
+
+"Has he conquered you too at last?" he exclaimed, "there's no finer
+little fellow in all Austria than our Ossi!" And he held out his hands
+to the child. She let him be taken from her, and without a word walked
+away toward the castle. Ah, what a wretched night she passed after this
+episode! No, she would not think of him, it hurt too much.
+
+Time passed; for weeks she would not look at him; then suddenly she
+would appear when he was taking his lessons, and for a couple of days
+she would watch him with a morbid intensity which sometimes degenerated
+into lurking distrust; then finding nothing to justify the distrust she
+would again turn from him.
+
+In spite of his excellent disposition the boy might perhaps have grown
+up a good-natured but inconsiderate egotist, had not Count Lodrin taken
+an unwearied interest in his training, guiding him aright with the most
+affectionate gentleness. The influence of the frail old man upon the
+child was invaluable. In the society of an invalid so tender and so
+loving, the boy learned what he could have learned nowhere else,--to
+bow before weakness, and helplessness, the only two potentates whose
+sway natures as proud as Oswald's acknowledge. He learned to refine his
+innate haughtiness by the most considerate delicacy towards his
+inferiors, and to consider his pride as inseparable from devotion to
+duty and an impregnable sense of honour.
+
+Sometimes the Countess would steal to the door of the library, where
+the father and son were wont to talk together, and would listen. She
+did so once when the old man was seriously reproving the boy for some
+rudeness that he had shown towards his tutor.
+
+"I know it, papa, I am wrong, but Herr Mueller is a coarse kind of man,
+and I cannot abide coarseness," she heard the boy say, and the old man
+rejoined gently, "He is unfortunate, Ossi, remember that before all.
+How, think you, could he endure his lot if in his veins ran such blood
+as yours?"
+
+All things swam before the mother's eyes, as with downcast looks she
+hurried away, locked herself in her room and wrung her hands.
+
+                               *   *   *
+She never addressed a kind word to him, treating him with studied
+indifference, with almost malignant severity. Under such treatment the
+boy suffered, grew pale, thin, and nervous. Then came a damp, warm
+autumn, the skies were every day veiled behind leaden clouds,--it
+drizzled continually without actually raining, and the leaves instead
+of falling rotted on the trees. A terrible epidemic broke out in the
+country around Tornow, and raged like a pestilence, carrying off victim
+after victim, until at last it appeared in the market town itself.
+
+The Count, fanatically faithful as ever to the duties of his position,
+would not leave Tornow for fear of increasing the panic, but he
+entreated his wife to go away and take the boy with her, but this she
+obstinately refused to do, not even allowing Oswald with his tutor to
+be sent to her relatives.
+
+One morning the Count came to her saying, "Ossi has the fever! The
+disease is of a malignant and contagious character; it is quite
+unnecessary that you should expose yourself to it, Schmidt and I can
+take care of him." Whereupon he left her.
+
+She was fearfully agitated; the hour of her liberation was perhaps
+about to strike; she determined not to lift a finger to save the
+child's life. She forced herself to keep away from his sick-room for
+several days; the boy rapidly grew worse; for his recovery the Count
+had mass said in the chapel of the castle, although he himself was not
+present at it,--he would not leave the child's bedside; but of course
+the Countess attended at the religious celebration. She was very
+generally beloved by her servants, but on that day she could see on
+their faces ill-concealed surprise, nay, scarce-repressed indignation,
+beneath their conventional expression of respect.
+
+After the Elevation the chaplain delivered a short discourse in which
+he praised the sick boy's amiable qualities, and requested all to join
+him in imploring God's grace for the heir of the house. Tears ran down
+the cheeks of all the old servants while the priest prayed, but the
+Countess kneeled on her _prie-dieu_, her face pale, her eyes tearless,
+her lips scarcely moving.
+
+The day wore on; hour after hour passed into eternity, the early
+autumnal twilight descended from the gray clouds upon the earth, and
+gradually deepened to black night; throughout the castle reigned
+unbroken silence, and not even outside was heard the sound of a falling
+leaf. The Countess's pulses throbbed with a feverish longing for her
+child, that nearly drove her mad. She wondered if he in turn did not
+feel a yearning for her presence?--if his grief at her absence from his
+sick-bed did not aggravate the disease?--how if it were killing him?
+She pictured him borne away upon the dark, swiftly-rushing stream of
+eternity so close beside her that she might have stretched forth her
+hand to save him,--and she dared not! Oh, that she could have commanded
+fate, "Take him, I will not keep him, but take me too!"
+
+Minutes grew to hours; perhaps at that very instant he was breathing
+his last. She sprang up,--she would not nurse him back to life, no, but
+she must see him once more, once more clasp him to her heart before he
+died.
+
+She hurried to the door of the sick-room, listened, and heard the low
+monotonous moan that is wrung from a half-conscious sufferer. She
+entered; at the foot of the bed sat the old Count, bent and weary.
+Schmidt, Oswald's old nurse, was applying a cold, wet towel to the
+boy's forehead. The Countess took it from her, thrust her aside with
+jealous haste, and herself laid the wet cloth upon her son's head.
+Strange! at the touch of her hand he opened his eyes, and even in his
+half-unconscious state, recognised her with a faint, wondering smile.
+
+From that hour she never left his bedside. The famous physician in whom
+she had great confidence, and for whom she telegraphed to Vienna,
+frequently declared afterwards: "Never have I seen a child nursed with
+such devotion by a mother!"
+
+She tended him like a sister of charity,--like a maid-servant. She
+gloried in his refusal to allow any one else to wait upon him, that he
+screamed with pain when another hand than hers touched him, that he
+turned from his medicine if she did not administer it.
+
+The crisis passed; the physician pronounced all danger over if no
+unforeseen relapse occurred. This he made known to the Count and
+Countess in the antechamber of the sick-room, whither they had
+withdrawn to hear his opinion. When the Count feelingly thanked him for
+saving his child's life, Doctor M .... denied that any credit was due to
+him, "my share," said he, "in this fortunate result is but trifling;
+the recovery of our little patient is owing solely to the wonderful
+nursing that he has been blessed with," and turning to the Countess he
+added respectfully, "Your Excellency may say with pride that your child
+owes his life to you for the second time."
+
+The ground seemed to reel beneath her,--she could have shouted for joy,
+and yet never in her life had she been so wretched as at this blissful,
+terrible moment. Without a word she returned to the sick-room, and sat
+down by the little white bed; she motioned to Schmidt who had been
+watching the boy's sleep, to retire, she wanted to be alone with her
+child. He was sleeping soundly, his breath came and went regularly, and
+his brown head rested comfortably on the pillow. She could not look
+long enough at the dear little emaciated face, wearing now a smile in
+sleep. He was like herself, his every feature resembled hers, his
+straight, broad brow, the short, delicately chiselled nose, the finely
+curved mouth, firm chin, nay, even the gleam of gold in the dark hair
+about the temples, all were her own. Even his hands lying half-closed
+on the coverlet resembled hers; they were longer and more muscular, but
+they were shaped like hers. How she admired him, how proud she was of
+him in her inmost soul! She had not been able to let him die,--he _owed
+his life to her for the second time!_ It was useless to combat a
+feeling that always gained the upper-hand; but how was she to adjust
+herself to her false position?--what was her duty? This question she
+asked herself in desperate earnest, honestly ready to atone for her
+guilt by any sacrifice. Her stern, cold duty was perhaps to go to her
+husband, confess to him the terrible truth, and then, with her child,
+and with all the means that was her own, depart for some quarter of the
+world where amid strangers she could provide a tolerable existence for
+her boy. She shuddered!--her own disgrace was of no consequence;
+she suffered so fearfully beneath the weight of the falsehood of her
+life, that it would have been a relief to burst its bonds,--but her
+child!--Why, in comparison with the torture to which her confession
+would subject him, it would be merciful to stab him to the heart. He
+was too old and too precocious not to appreciate fully the disgrace of
+his position; he was too proud and too sensitive to find any
+consolation or support under such fearful circumstances in the love of
+a dishonoured mother.
+
+She must continue to carry out the lie. Who would thus be the
+sufferer?--Her own conscience; hers must be the torture! A confession
+would ruin the existence of her husband, and her son, and would
+overwhelm two families with disgrace, while now ....! The only being who
+had any claim to the Lodrin estates was a good-for-naught, who never
+could be to his people what Oswald promised to be. And suddenly she
+seemed to see her duty clear before her, a noble sacrificial duty!
+
+She would so train Oswald that he should fill the station that he
+occupied better than any other could possibly fill it,--his excellence
+should justify her deceit.
+
+She solemnly vowed, by her child's bedside, to watch over his heart and
+soul, to guard his fine qualities like a priceless treasure, to see
+that no breath of evil should ever taint them. Then she bent over him
+and kissed his hands gently. He woke and smiled, whispering, "Mamma,
+will you go on loving me when I am well?"
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Love him indeed! Ah, how she petted and indulged him during his long
+convalescence, how willingly she complied with all his little whims,
+how gladly she submitted to the exactions of his affection, half
+selfish though they were at times, as those of an invalid on the road
+to recovery are so apt to be! How well she knew how to amuse, and
+occupy him! how many games of chess and of cards she played with him!
+how she read aloud for his entertainment, albeit unused to such
+exertion, Cooper's Leatherstocking Tales, and Dumas' _Trois
+Mousquetaires_!
+
+When he had fully recovered, her treatment of him was more serious. She
+kept the vow she had made to herself, she watched his every impulse,
+his every breath, spared no pains to train him to be,--what he must be
+to satisfy her conscience, her pride,--a blessing to all around him.
+She even did what was for her the hardest task of all, she repressed
+her tenderness for him, lest it should make him effeminate. She made it
+her duty, when the time came for him to resume his studies, to engage a
+new tutor for him, and, quite out of patience with the cringing,
+fawning candidates for the position that had hitherto made their
+appearance in Tornow, she wrote to a foreign Professor of her
+acquaintance asking him to aid her in procuring the person whom she
+needed. A month later there came to Tornow a young fellow with the
+lightest possible hair standing up like a brush above a very
+intelligent face, not at all handsome, ruddy, clean-shaven, and with a
+very sympathetic expression. He carried himself erect, and his manner,
+while it was perfectly easy, was never obtrusive. He was much
+interested in his profession of tutor, although he fully recognised its
+difficulties, and it never occurred to him to regard it simply as a
+provision for impecunious scholars whose hopes were bounded by the
+prospect of a future pension. Oswald ridiculed the Prussians, until
+this particular Prussian not only compelled his respect, but won his
+friendship.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+The Countess's social relations dwindled to a point; everything that
+interfered with her care for her child wearied her. She was often
+present while his lessons were going on, she rode with him daily, and
+he and his tutor always took their meals with the Count and Countess.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+She adjusted her life by her boy in every respect. One word from Ossi
+sufficed, where her mother's and her brother's entreaties had failed,
+to produce a change in her hard, impatient bearing towards her invalid
+husband. It was long before she perceived how her conduct in this
+respect wounded Ossi's feelings; she sometimes wondered what depressed
+the boy. It made her anxious, and one day she asked him about it.
+Taking his face tenderly between both her hands she said, "How sad your
+eyes are, Ossi, does anything trouble you?" For a moment he hesitated,
+and then he spoke out bravely. "Mother, dear, you are so very kind to
+every one else; be a little kind to papa!"
+
+She started, turned pale, and left the room without a word; he looked
+after her anxiously. Had he alienated her affection again?
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+No! that which all the arguments and representations of her mother and
+brother had failed to accomplish a couple of words from boyish lips had
+achieved. From that hour she testified towards her invalid husband the
+unvarying respect, the careful regard of a dutiful daughter, and
+although his various, and increasing infirmities,--he lost his
+hearing, and very nearly his eyesight,--becoming at last a complete
+paralytic,--made her tendance upon him most distressing, she was
+never again betrayed into uttering an impatient word. Hers was a hard
+task--especially at the beginning--a very hard task! But what of that?
+Ossi was pleased with her, and that was reward enough! She had learned
+to read his eyes; for love of him she altered everything in herself
+that could displease him, although he himself could not have explained
+why; she purified and strengthened her character day by day, and really
+became the mother that he dreamed her.
+
+The old Count died; Georges Lodrin had disappeared. An American
+newspaper announced his death, and as the announcement was not
+contradicted it was held to be true. Georges was the last heir; at his
+death the property would have escheated to the government; thus the
+Countess need no longer be tormented by the thought that she was
+depriving another of his rights.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Days of cloudless delight ensued; Ossi grew to manhood, left her
+protecting arms, and launched forth upon the broad, perilous stream of
+life, while she, gazing after him anxiously, was forced to stay upon
+the shore. The time was past when tenderly, delicately, and yet with a
+certain shyness of the son already a head taller than herself, she
+could ask to know all of his life, could extort from him his small
+confessions. She had to leave him to himself, with, at times, a secret
+tremor. Only secret, however; she would not interfere with his freedom
+of action. Praise of him greeted her on all sides; she was satisfied
+with her work.
+
+He was like her in every way, even in his faults; but those faults
+which had wrought her ruin,--pride, and passionate blood--became him
+well. There was no throne upon earth that she did not consider him
+worthy to fill, and which should not have been his if she could have
+given it to him; there was no conceivable torture that she would not
+have borne willingly if thereby she could have added to his happiness.
+
+His excellence was her justification; her maternal love was her
+religion.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+She still sat in the same arm-chair where she had resolved to utter the
+falsehood, which, after all, her lips had refused to speak! Her heart
+seemed to have burst in twain, and from it had fallen the whole
+treasury of fair memories which she had stored within it; her slain
+joys lay about her in disarray, shattered, dead. She tried to collect
+them, groping for them in memory; all at once her thoughts hurried to
+the future,--the confusion subsided,--she understood!
+
+She moaned, and stroked back the hair from her temples; her wandering
+glance fell upon a newspaper lying on her table. The date caught her
+eye,--the sixth of August,--she started, the morrow was his birthday!
+She remembered the little surprise she had prepared for him; she had
+selected from among her jewels something very rare and beautiful which
+he could give to his betrothed. Rising from her chair, she said to
+herself aloud, "The marriage is impossible!" Then followed the
+question, "What will he do, how will he live on?"--"Live?" she
+repeated, and on the instant a wild dread assailed her. "For God's
+sake!" she groaned, "that must not be, I must prevent it."
+
+Again her thoughts hurried confusedly through her mind. She would go to
+him, and on her knees before him entreat, "Despise me, curse me, but be
+happy, live to bless those whose fate lies in your hands, and who could
+find no better master. The injustice of it I will answer for here, and
+before God's judgment-seat! Or--if you cannot sustain the burden of
+these unlawful possessions, cast it off. Let my name be blasted, I
+deserve nothing better. But you,--you live, take everything that is
+mine and that is yours of right, and found a new existence for yourself
+wherever it may be!"
+
+She hurried out into the corridor, wild, beside herself. Before his
+door she paused, overcome by a horrible sense of shame,--she could
+never again look him in the face! What would have been the use? Another
+might perhaps compromise philosophically with circumstances. But
+he,--detestation of the blood flowing in his veins, would kill him! She
+raised her arms, and then dropped them at her sides, like some wounded
+bird, that, dying in the dust, makes one last vain effort to stir its
+wings to bear it to its lost heaven. Then she kneeled down and pressed
+her lips upon the threshold of his door before groping her staggering
+way back to her room.
+
+
+
+
+                             CHAPTER XIII.
+
+
+The mood in which Conte Capriani took his place beside Kilary in the
+victoria that was to carry him to the place of meeting, was a very
+strange one. Never had he felt such pride of victory; his thoughts
+reverted to his first meeting with the beautiful Countess Lodrin at the
+beginning of his career, when with his keen scent for all that was
+lowest in human beings, he had divined her passionate nature, a nature
+held in check with despotic resolution after the great disappointment
+of her early life.
+
+With calculating cunning he had plotted and schemed to get her into his
+power. But when at last he thought he had quelled and broken her pride,
+she suddenly reared her head more haughtily than ever, and thrust him
+from her.--He had not believed such audacity possible!
+
+And now the woman whom he had thought to tread beneath his feet stood
+at so unattainable a height above him, that his treachery was of no
+avail as a weapon against her. How his heart had been consumed by
+futile rage! Only the day before yesterday she had dared to send him
+word by Zoe Melkweyser that she did not remember him.
+
+"But it is my turn now," he thought, "this duel has forced an
+explanation between herself and Oswald,--she has had to humble
+herself before her child!" A fiendish exultation thrilled him to his
+very finger-tips. "At last they must bow before me," he said to
+himself.--"Mother and son, the two haughtiest of the whole haughty
+crowd!"
+
+It never occurred to him that this explanation which he had forced so
+relentlessly upon the mother and son could have results other than
+those which he contemplated. Absolutely content, for the first time in
+his life, he leaned back among the cushions slowly puffing forth big
+clouds of smoke into the fresh morning air, as the carriage approached
+the old monastery of St. Elizabeth.
+
+It was a large building blackened by time, standing quite isolated at
+about half a league from Tornow upon fallow land. Formerly a monastery,
+afterwards a hospital, and then a poor-house, it was now one of those
+melancholy ruins that only await the pickaxe of demolition. The walls
+were dirty, the windows black, with half the panes broken and patched
+up with paper.--Two grape-vines trailed over the grass where once had
+been a garden, and a couple of knotty mulberry-trees grew close to the
+ruinous walls.
+
+Leaning against one of these walls stood an ancient black, wooden
+crucifix; the nail that had held fast the right hand of The Crucified
+had fallen out and the arm hung loose, lending to the rudely-carved
+image a strange reality. It looked as if the Saviour in the death
+struggle had torn away his bleeding hand from the cross to bless
+mankind with it once more.
+
+Beneath the figure of Christ was a tablet with an inscription, the gilt
+letters of which, much faded by time, still glistened in the morning
+sunlight.
+
+The atmosphere was unusually clear, the skies cloudless. Oswald,
+Georges, and old Doctor Swoboda arrived before Capriani; whilst Georges
+and Doctor Swoboda walked about the old building discussing various
+parts of it to keep themselves cool, Oswald leaned against the doorway
+of the old cloister, and gazed silently into the distance. Not a trace
+was perceptible of the irritability which Georges had observed on the
+previous day. His was the repose of one who sees the goal where the
+terrible burden with which destiny has laden him can be cast off.--His
+soul was filled with anguish, but was conscious of the remedy at
+hand.--Release went hand in hand with duty.
+
+Dear old memories arose upon his mind,--vaguely as if obscured by thick
+vapour. His mother's image hovered before him; he clasped his hands
+tightly, stood erect, threw back his head and looked upwards as
+desperate men always do before final exhaustion. His glance fell upon
+the Christ; the tablet at His feet attracted his attention, he
+approached it.
+
+"What have you found there?" asked Georges, with forced carelessness.
+
+"I am only trying to decipher the inscription," replied Oswald.
+
+"The inscription?--'God--God--have....'" Georges spelled out.
+
+"'God have mercy upon us all!'" Oswald read, and at that moment the old
+iron-barred gate of the monastery garden creaked on its hinges,--Kilary
+entered first and Oswald returned his bow with friendly ease. But when
+the Conte, following Kilary closely, bowed with a sweet smile Oswald
+scarcely touched his hat.
+
+The Conte glanced keenly at him; for an instant his eyes encountered
+those of the young man and gazed into their depths, but found nothing
+there save immeasurable disgust.
+
+The conditions of the duel called for thirty paces with an advance on
+each side of ten paces. The seconds measured off thirty paces and at
+the distance of ten paces apart laid two canes down on the grass.
+
+The whole proceeding was to Georges a disgusting farce; he seemed to be
+acting as in a dream, without any will of his own. It was impossible
+that his cousin Oswald Lodrin should condescend to fight with this
+adventurer.
+
+Oswald and the Conte took their places, the seconds gave the signal. On
+the instant Oswald shot wide of the Conte. A brief, dreadful pause
+ensued; the Conte hesitated. With utter disdain in his eyes, his head
+held erect, Oswald advanced; the Conte had never seen him look so
+haughty.
+
+The sight of the handsome set face recalled to the adventurer the
+manifold humiliations that he had been obliged to endure all his
+lifelong at the arrogant hands of 'these people.' All his hatred for
+the entire caste blazed up within him,--all power of reflection gone he
+blindly discharged his pistol!
+
+Oswald felt something like a hard cold blow on his breast,--a crimson
+cloud seemed to rise out of the earth before him, he staggered and
+fell.
+
+"Good God!" exclaimed Georges quite beside himself, as he raised the
+dying man in his arms and held him there while the old Doctor bent over
+him.
+
+Oswald opened his eyes. His mind was somewhat astray,--everything about
+him seemed wavering vaguely; then, in the midst of the terrible,
+chaotic confusion of every sense that precedes dissolution he made a
+mighty effort to grasp and hold a thought that glided indistinctly
+through his half-darkened mind. "Georges," he gasped, "what day of the
+month is it?"
+
+"The seventh of August."
+
+"My birthday."--Suddenly his mind grew clear once more, and there came
+over him the incredible celerity of thought, the wonderful illumination
+of vision of the dying, who in a moment of time grasp the memory of an
+entire life. As the earth slipped away from him he was able to judge
+human weaknesses in the light of eternity.
+
+"Georges!" he began.
+
+"Yes, dear old fellow!" said Georges softly, in a choked voice.
+
+"Tell my mother--and for God's sake do not forget--that for the happy
+twenty-six years that are past I thank her, and that I kiss her dear,
+dear hands in token of farewell!"
+
+He was silent, he breathed with difficulty,--his lips moved again,
+and Georges put his ear down to them that he might understand
+him--"Georges,--if I have ever done you wrong,--you or any one else in
+my life--without knowing it,--then...."
+
+"Ah Ossi, would to God that I could ever lay down my head as calmly and
+proudly as you can," whispered Georges, clasping him closer in his
+arms.
+
+The dying man smiled--possessed by a great calm. He knew that what had
+been his secret was his own forever.
+
+He tried to raise himself a little, rivetting his eyes upon the
+crucifix;--the gilt letters gleamed in the morning light. He lifted his
+hand by an effort, to make the sign of the cross,--Georges guided his
+hand. A bluish pallor appeared upon his features,--twice a tremor ran
+through his limbs, his hands fell clinched by his side--his lips moved
+for the last time. "Poor Ella!" he murmured scarcely audibly.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+God have mercy upon us all!
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XIV.
+
+
+The Countess Lodrin had passed the night without lying down. When her
+maid appeared to see if her mistress were not ill, she had been
+dismissed by a mute wave of the hand. At last, towards morning, sitting
+beside her writing-table, she had fallen into the leaden sleep that is
+wont to follow terrible mental agitation.
+
+The sun was high in the heavens when she awoke with stiffened limbs and
+a dull pain at her heart, but without any distinct consciousness of
+misfortune. She looked around her, and started, perceiving that some
+strange commotion was astir in the castle; she could hear footsteps
+overhead, and outside her door.--She hurried out, the corridor was
+filled with people--people who had no claim to be up here. And all the
+servants were hurrying hither and thither in the confusion of a
+household where some catastrophe has occurred, all weeping, trembling,
+not one showing unsympathetic curiosity, and amongst them was Pistasch,
+vainly trying to quiet the loud howling of Oswald's Newfoundland.
+
+"What is the matter?" the Countess shrieked,--"what has happened?"
+
+But no one had the courage to answer her. She ran to Oswald's
+bedroom--all gazed after her in horror-stricken compassion; they might
+have restrained her, but who could dare to do so? At the door she met
+Georges.
+
+"What is it?" she gasped, clutching his arm, "where is Ossi?"
+
+"In there," he murmured hoarsely, "but ...!"
+
+"'But'--for God's sake tell me what has happened?"
+
+"A duel," said Georges with an effort,--he would fain have detained
+her, would fain have found the conventional phrases with which men
+attempt to break bad news, he could not recall any, and he stammered.
+
+"A duel?" she asked sharply, "with whom?"
+
+"With Capriani;--he...."
+
+Before he could say another word she had opened the door and had
+entered Oswald's room.
+
+They had lain him on his bed,--the noble outlines of his stalwart
+figure were distinctly visible beneath the white sheet;--his face was
+uncovered, and bathed in all the ideal charm of dead youth.
+
+The Countess staggered, tried to hold herself erect, tripped over her
+dress, and fell; then dragged herself on her knees to the bed of her
+dead child. At its foot she lay, her face buried in her hands.
+
+When, two hours afterward, Truyn who had been informed of the frightful
+catastrophe entered the room with Georges Lodrin, she was still
+kneeling in the same place, her head still in her hands.
+
+Profoundly shocked Truyn bent over her, and gently begged her to leave
+the room. She arose mechanically, and leaning upon his arm went to the
+door. There she paused, turned, and hurried back to the bed. They
+feared that force would be necessary to separate her from the dead
+body, when Georges remembered the message entrusted to him by the dying
+man. In the tumult, the horror, in his own terrible grief he had
+forgotten it. "Let me try to persuade her, wait for me here," said he
+to Truyn, and going to the bedside where the Countess was again
+kneeling he whispered: "Aunt, I have a message for you from him; he
+died in my arms, and while dying he thought of you!"
+
+She shrank away from him.
+
+"To-day is his birthday," Georges continued, "he remembered it in his
+last moments and begged me to tell you, and, for God's sake not to
+forget it, that he thanked you for the past happy twenty-six years, and
+that he kissed your dear, dear hands in token of farewell."
+
+The wretched woman, who had hitherto seemed carved out of marble, began
+to tremble violently; a hard hoarse sob burst from her lips.
+
+It was the first warm breath of spring breaking up the ice. She
+instantly rose and threw herself in an agony of tears upon the corpse,
+exclaiming: "My child, my fair, noble boy!"
+
+Georges withdrew; the moment was too sacred to be intruded upon.
+Shortly afterwards she tottered, bent and bowed, from the room. Truyn,
+whom she had not seemed to perceive, offered her his arm, and she
+quietly allowed herself to be led to her own apartment.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER XV.
+
+
+The death of the young man excited universal sympathy. He was mourned
+not only by his relatives and friends, but by all his dependants, the
+peasants on his estates, nay, even by strangers to whom he had only
+been pointed out as he passed by. And on the day when he was buried,
+with all the honours befitting the noble name which he had borne so
+worthily, there was in the whole country round no little child whose
+hands were not folded in prayer for him, no poor labouring woman who
+had ever met him in the road, and whose existence his kindly smile had
+helped to lighten, who did not wear a black apron or a black kerchief,
+in loving memory of him. No one, perhaps, could have told what he or
+she had expected of the young Count, but all felt that with him some
+hope had died, some sunshine had been buried.
+
+Fritz Malzin, the only witness of the insult offered to the Conte, died
+the night before the duel; nothing therefore was known save what the
+Conte chose to tell; the versions of the reasons that had induced
+Oswald's rash acceptance of the Conte's challenge were many and widely
+differing, but not one of them bore the least relation to the truth.
+
+As Oswald had foreseen, his relatives overwhelmed Georges with
+reproaches for the part he had borne in a duel between his cousin and a
+parvenu. But the letter to Truyn which Oswald left behind, exculpated
+Georges completely.
+
+People declared, to be sure, that Georges ought to have restrained the
+folly of his hot-tempered cousin, but the unaffected grief evinced by
+the man, hitherto regarded as careless and indifferent, disarmed every
+one. His devotion to his dead cousin revealed itself in his every
+action, in the exquisite tenderness of his treatment of Oswald's
+wretched mother, and his management of the estates thus suddenly fallen
+to him, absolutely in accordance as it was with all Oswald's wishes,
+soon won him the warmest sympathy from all.
+
+Of course the Conte was denounced; Oswald's associates in his own rank
+regarded the man as no better than a murderer. But he coldly defied
+public opinion, and held his head higher than ever; he seemed even to
+pride himself upon his deed, and several newspapers defended him.
+
+
+
+
+                              CONCLUSION.
+
+
+When in May a white-edged, black cloud discharges a storm of hail upon
+the fresh, green wheat, the tender blades break and are buried out of
+sight beneath heavy sleet; when the storm is past, and the ice melted,
+and the sun once more beaming bright and warm in cloudless skies, the
+bruised blades think they cannot bear the light, and lying close upon
+the ground would fain die. Then over the fields thus laid waste many a
+head is shaken, and many a sigh is breathed for the broken promise of
+the harvest.
+
+But some there are who, seeing farther and knowing better, shrug their
+shoulders, and say "A hailstorm in spring prostrates, but does not
+kill!" and they look forward hopefully to the future.
+
+Gradually, and very slowly, the warm sunshine penetrates the crushed
+blades, awakening and strengthening within them the benumbed forces of
+youth. Before the summer is fully abroad in the land, the wheat stands
+erect and tall, to the inexperienced eye all unharmed, but the
+husbandman can detect the callous ring where the blade was bent, and
+says: "The wheat has been shot in the knee."
+
+Thus it is with youthful souls, crushed to the earth in the spring-time
+of life by some fierce tempest. Slowly but surely the spirit, well-nigh
+wounded to death, recovers, and God grants to the hearts of those whom
+he loves a glorious resurrection.
+
+Gabrielle recovered from the fearful blow that had befallen her,--very
+slowly, and painfully to be sure, but at last. At first indeed, her
+grief was so profound, she suffered so silently, so tearlessly, that
+they feared for her reason, and then, when all seemed darkest to her,
+she was suddenly possessed by an intense, inexplicable yearning to
+return to the pretty home in the Avenue Labedoyere in which the fairest
+hours of her shattered bliss had been spent.
+
+Her desire was complied with; and for many a long winter night Zinka
+sat beside her by the same little white bed where the girl had once
+whispered to her in the delirium of her happiness that it seemed as if
+her heart would break with joy. With tenderest sympathy the young
+stepmother talked of the departed unweariedly with the girl, allowing
+her tears free course, without ever cruelly attempting to restrain the
+expression of her grief. And when Truyn, in despair over such endless
+grieving, unreasonably taxed his wife with exciting Ella's emotion, and
+with hindering her from forgetting, Zinka replied gently, "Let me
+alone; I know what I am doing. There is nothing more terrible, more
+dreadful than the spectre of a grief that has been violently stifled;
+it lurks in wait for us, and persecutes us all the more persistently,
+the more resolutely we thrust it from us. The memory of our beloved
+dead must not be banished, it must be tenderly welcomed and cherished,
+until in time it loses all bitterness, and is ever with us, sad, but
+very dear."
+
+Truyn listened incredulously, but a few weeks later he perceived with
+surprise, and with trembling delight that Gabrielle's pale cheeks began
+to show a faint colour, and that her weary gait grew more elastic. Then
+when he was alone with Zinka he kissed her gratefully, saying "I see
+you understand better than I how to comfort."
+
+"And from whom did I learn the art?" she asked in reply, with a loving
+glance, "do you not see that I am only repaying old debts?"
+
+With the first snowdrops in February came a golden-haired little
+brother for Gabrielle, who, by Zinka's desire was christened "Ossi."
+Thus Gabrielle learned to utter her dead lover's name without tears.
+She idolizes the little one, and sometimes smiles when she has him in
+her arms; he has given her a fresh interest in life. Georges who came
+to Paris the last of May, only to see the Truyns, and to find out
+especially how Gabrielle was, perceived this with pleasure, and said
+much that was encouraging to Truyn, who is still anxious about his
+sorrowing child. A hailstorm in spring prostrates, but does not kill.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+But when a storm of hail just before harvest beats down the ripened
+ears, the grain never recovers. Bowed down to the earth, broken and
+blasted by the weight of the hailstones, the crop lies prostrate in the
+fields, only awaiting the hand that shall clear it away.
+
+                               *   *   *
+
+Never again will the Countess Lodrin rally. Had her health been less
+vigorous she might have died of agony, had her mind been less strong,
+she might have forgotten. But her health is perfect, and her mind clear
+as daylight.
+
+She occupies her modest suite of apartments at Tornow, which Georges
+has prayed her always to consider as her home. Her rooms are but a
+shrine for relics and memorials of the dead. Every object which
+Oswald's hand ever touched is sacred for her. Every benevolent scheme
+devised by Oswald in his generous desire, 'to brighten the existence of
+as many people as possible,' she promotes. She heaps his former
+servants with benefits, his faithful Newfoundland is her constant
+companion. She tried to employ her widow's jointure in buying back
+Schneeburg for poor Fritz's children, but her agent could effect
+nothing against Capriani's obstinacy and millions. At least she
+succeeded in buying Malzin's children of their mother.
+
+Charlotte married again, another secretary of Capriani's. The little
+Malzins live at Tornow under the care of an English governess, and
+thrive apace. The Countess attends to every detail of their education
+and training, and sees them every day although only for a short time;
+there is no close tie between them. In spring when she hears their
+sweet voices resounding with merriment in the park, she winces, and
+grows paler than usual. She avoids them, but if she encounters them by
+chance she never fails to speak a kind word to them, or to bestow upon
+them a gentle caress. She is no longer capable of a fervent affection
+for any living being. Her heart is a tomb, completely filled by a
+single, idolized, dead son, but for his dear sake she does all the good
+that she can to the living. Thus, even after his departure, she seems
+striving for his approval.
+
+She devotes the greatest part of her income and of her time to the most
+self-sacrificing benevolence. There is no misery in all the country
+round which she does not search out, and try to alleviate, going from
+hut to hut, and never shrinking from even the most menial services to
+the sick. She is revered as a saint throughout the district. In her
+social intercourse with her peers, which grows less year by year, her
+son's name never passes her lips; if others mention it she turns the
+conversation. But when the country-people utter his name with
+blessings, and recall his constant kindliness and readiness to
+aid;--when the peasants and day-labourers kiss the hem of her dress,
+with tears, saying, "God give him his reward in Heaven, we shall never
+have another such master!" she lifts her head and her eyes gleam with
+intense, sacred pride. Those who meet her then walking erect and with
+beaming looks on her way back to the castle, think her wonderfully
+recovered, and never dream how utterly shattered her life is. But could
+they see her later, when, exhausted by the temporary exaltation, she
+takes refuge in her chamber and sinks into the arm-chair wherein she
+fell asleep on that horrible night, they would be horror-struck by the
+fearful misery of her expression.
+
+There she sits for hours, erect, her elbows close pressed, her hands
+folded in her lap. Her whole life is but a protracted, lingering agony;
+with fixed gaze she seems listening for the rustling wings of the
+messenger who shall release her: the Angel of Death.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of 'Gloria Victis!', by Ossip Schubin
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