Clear the Track! Part 14

The laborers reverentially greeted the young master and his promised bride, whom all eyes followed with admiration. Even here Cecilia's beauty celebrated a triumph, only Egbert Runeck seemed perfectly insensible to its charms.

He became their guide through grounds in the act of being laid out, taking pains to show his guests whatever was worth seeing, but he observed towards the Baroness Wildenrod the same cold reserve as before, and turned mostly to Eric; in him, to be sure, he did not have a particularly attentive listener. The young heir showed only a faint, half-forced sympathy in all these things, with which he should properly have felt himself identified.

"It is incredible, the quant.i.ty of work that you have all done in these few weeks," said he, finally, with genuine admiration. "That would be something for my brother-in-law, who now buries himself all day in the Odensburg works and has regularly const.i.tuted himself my father's a.s.sistant. I would never have believed that Oscar had so keen a relish for such things."

Runeck did not answer, but his lip curled contemptuously at these last words. Eric, who did not observe this, continued in the most unembarra.s.sed way:

"One thing more, Egbert, we recently made an excursion into the mountains, and some of our party noticed that the great cross on the Whitestone had sunk. Father wishes the matter to be carefully looked into, so that no accident may happen. Is there any one among your people here, who will undertake the dangerous task?"

"Certainly," a.s.sented Runeck. "It would be very perilous, if that heavy cross should one day fall from that high cliff, since the road runs along just below. I shall go up and see about it myself in the course of the next few days."

"Upon the Whitestone?" asked Cecilia, whose attention had been awakened. "How is that? They say it is inaccessible."

"a.s.suredly it is for ordinary people," mocked Eric. "One's name must be Egbert Runeck to undertake such a walk on our most dangerous cliff. I believe he has been up there already three or four times."

"I am practiced in mountain-climbing," said Egbert composedly. "When a boy I used to be familiar with every cliff and mountain of my native district, and that is knowledge which is not unlearned. As for the rest, the Whitestone is not inaccessible, it only demands a steady head, clear eye and the necessary fearlessness, then the way is to be forced."

"Dear me, do not say that!" cried Eric laughing, but yet with a certain unrest. He really feared lest Cecilia might be seized with one of those madcap fancies by which she had recently so frightened him. "She was wild to go to the top of the Whitestone."

Runeck seemed to think this project something unheard of, he looked doubtingly and in surprise upon the young lady, who replied in a haughty tone:

"Why, yes! I should like just for once to stand on such a dizzy height, immediately above that abrupt precipice. It must be a thrillingly sweet sensation! Eric was horrified at the bare idea."

"Cecilia, you torture me with such jests!"

"How do you know that it is a jest? And suppose I act upon it in earnest--would you go with me?"

"I?" The young man looked as if he thought they expected him to jump down from the cliff in question. About the lips of his betrothed played a half-compa.s.sionate, half-contemptuous smile; almost imperceptibly she elevated her shoulders.

"Compose yourself, pray! I shall not demand such a proof of love--I would go alone."

"Let me implore you, Cecile, not to think of such a thing!" exclaimed Eric, now alarmed in good earnest, but Egbert interrupted him with quiet decision.

"You need not disturb yourself on that score. That is no path for the dainty feet of a lady to tread. Baroness Wildenrod will hardly make the attempt, and, if she should do so, she would give it up again in five minutes."

"Cecilia tossed her head, and her eyes flashed as she asked in a peculiar tone:

"Are you so certain of that, Herr Runeck?"

"Yes, n.o.ble lady, for I know the Whitestone."

"But you do not know me!"

"May be so."

Cecilia started, the answer seemed to surprise her, but her glance strayed to her betrothed, and she laughed scornfully.

"Do not look so miserable, Eric! All this is only bantering! I am not thinking of the Whitestone and its break-neck cliffs.--How do you manage, really, Herr Runeck, when you blow up these colossal ma.s.ses of rock?"

Eric breathed more freely after the conversation had taken this new turn. He was already accustomed to being put on the rack by various whims and wild ideas suggested by his promised bride, that had no substantial basis, however, and were never to be taken seriously. Being restored to his composure now, he turned to the old inspector, who stood close by, expecting, evidently, to be noticed.

Old Mertens had served the father of the present chief, and now they had given him to perform the light and lucrative duties of an upper-inspector of the Radefeld works. Eric, who had known him from childhood, spoke kindly to him, making particular inquiries after his family, and afterwards greeted with the same kindliness the other workmen within speaking distance. Any stranger seeing him stand thus among the people, with stooping gait, delicate, worn features and almost timid manner, would never in the world have suspected him of being the future lord of Odensburg. There was nothing of the master at all about him.

Perhaps Baroness Wildenrod had imbibed this same impression, for her delicately-arched eyebrows contracted as though from displeasure, and then her glance turned slowly to the young engineer, who stood in front of her. Hitherto she had only seen him in company-suit, to-day he wore a gray woolen jacket and high-top boots, such as wind and weather asked for, but he gained wonderfully by this simple garb. It matched so admirably with the bold manliness of his appearance; here on his own territory his individuality was most strikingly manifest. The first glance showed that here it was his to command, and that he was fully equal to the trust reposed in him; the diminutive form of the friend of his youth shrank into nothingness at his side.

He gave the explanation desired, fully and in detail, ill.u.s.trating what he said by showing the mine already laid to that part of the cliff which still stood erect, yet in doing this, he turned his whole attention to the rocks and had hardly a look to bestow upon his fair listener, who now said smilingly:

"We saw the blasting from over yonder, and the explosion was extremely effective. You were enthroned yonder on the height like the mountain-sprite in his own person--all the others like ministering gnomes at your feet--a wave of your hand, and with the sound of m.u.f.fled thunder the cliffs were split and sank in ruins--a genuine glimpse of fairyland!"

"Why, do you know anything of the tales and legends of our mountains?"

asked Egbert coolly. "I really would not have supposed it."

"Only Maia is to be thanked for it. She has introduced me into the legends of her native hills, and I verily believe the little thing believes them to be solidly true. Maia sometimes is still a real child."

These last words sounded very scornful. The slender young lady who stood there, leaning against the wall of rock, in a stylish riding-habit of silver-gray, with hat and plumes to match, could not, by any means, be accused of being a child. Even here she was the lady of fashion and distinction, who was making it her pastime just to see for once how the sons of labor lived and delved. And yet she was ensnaringly beautiful, despite her pride and self-consciousness; radiant and certain of conquest she stood before the man who alone seemed to have neither eye nor ear for charms that had never elsewhere played her false. Perhaps it was this very insensibility which attracted the spoiled girl, who now continued in taunting tone:

"When I beheld that telling picture of which you formed the center, I could not help thinking of the old saying about the caper-spurge. That is the mysterious magic wand of the mountains, to which every bolt yields and every cavern opens. And then the buried treasures of the earth shine and beckon to the chosen one, who is to bring them to the light.

'He takes from night and darkness Their treasures, hidden deep, And he those jewels sparkling And all that gold may keep.'

What think you--has not Maia had an apt scholar?"

She looked at him smilingly as she repeated the verse of that old song which told of the all-powerful enchanting rod, but the young engineer's manner did not soften, in spite of all her blandness. His face, embrowned by exposure to sun and wind, was a shade paler, perhaps, than usual, but his voice sounded cool and self-controlled, as he answered:

"Our time no longer has need of an enchanter's wand. It has found another sort of one for splitting rocks and opening the earth--You see it, do you not?"

"Yes, indeed. I see bald destruction, rubbish and splintered quartz--but the treasures stay buried below."

"It is empty and dead below--there are no longer any buried treasures."

The answer had a harsh and joyless sound, and the tone in which it was spoken did not soften its asperity.

"Perhaps it is only because the magical word has been lost, without which the wand remains powerless," answered Cecilia lightly, without observing, apparently, his forbidding manner. "Do you not think so, Herr Runeck?"

"I think, Baroness Wildenrod, that the world of fairies and magicians has long been left behind us. We no longer comprehend it, and no longer _want_ to comprehend it."

There was something almost menacing in these apparently insignificant words. Cecilia bit her lips, and through the sunny brightness of her smile there gleamed a flash of hostility from her eyes, but then she laughed gayly.

"How grim that sounds! The poor gnomes and dwarfs have a determined enemy, I perceive. Only hear, Eric, how your friend denounces the whole legendary world."

"Yes, it is not worth while to approach Egbert with such things," said Eric, who just now came up. "He has no opinion of poetry, either, that one cannot make by line and plummets, nor needs to draw plans for--therefore he regards it as a highly superfluous thing. I have not yet forgiven him for the way in which he took the news of my engagement--actually, with formal commiseration! And when I indignantly hurled at him the reproach that he knew nothing about love, nor cared to know it either--would you believe that I got for answer a frigid 'No.'"

Cecilia fixed her large, dark eyes upon the young engineer, and again that demoniacal spark flashed in them as she said smilingly:

"And were you really in earnest, Herr Runeck?"

Some seconds elapsed ere he answered. He seemed yet paler than awhile ago, but his eye met that look fully and darkly, while he coldly replied: