Clear the Track! Part 33

In dense and endless ma.s.ses, with music and waving banners, the thousands of workmen marched past, the men from the forges up in the mountains having joined them. By a very skillful arrangement they had interspersed groups of children, that with happy effect broke the monotony of the procession. The pupils of the schools founded by Dernburg stepped proudly along, in their Sunday clothes, pleasure in a holiday beaming from every face: when they caught sight of the bride they waved caps and bunches of flowers, almost splitting their little throats with the loud cheers that they gave out one after another.

It cost trouble to keep the way clear for the procession, for the wives of the workmen, with the tiniest children in their arms, lined the sides of the road, and, besides, the inhabitants of all the region round about had streamed hither. All eyes were turned towards the terrace, to the white form of the bride, before whom all standards were lowered, and for whom all this rejoicing was made: she was the one to whom the whole entertainment was given, and received honors such as usually fall only to the lot of a princess. Incessantly she bowed her head in recognition of the people's kindness, but there was something of restraint in her action, and her large, dark eyes looked coldly upon all these demonstrations of joy, as though she saw nothing of them, and as though in far, far-off s.p.a.ce she sought something entirely different.

Eric, on the contrary, as was most unusual with him, took the liveliest interest in all that was going on. He drew Cecilia's attention to special features of the procession, turning repeatedly to the director to thank him for all the gratification that his skill was affording them, and seemed to have entirely laid aside his timidity and reserve.

At other times it had been painful and oppressive to him, to be the chief person upon occasions of the sort, but to-day he hailed it with joyful pride, for the sake of his young wife.

Dernburg stood by his son's side, and received these demonstrations of popularity with kindly gravity. Who could blame him, if his chest heaved more proudly and his ma.s.sive form became more erect, at sight of the thousands who were marching by? Those were his workmen to whom, for thirty long years, he had been a master, but also a father, for whose weal he had labored and toiled as for his own, and these they would estrange from him! These were to turn from him to follow another, who, as yet, had done nothing for them; who had begun his career by setting up opposition to the man who had been a greater benefactor to him than to all besides! A contemptuous smile played about the lips of the lord of Odensburg, the ground upon which he stood was firm as a rock; of that he felt impressed more strongly than ever to-day.

But still another looked with swelling bosom and flashing eyes upon the ma.s.ses flowing by,--Oscar von Wildenrod, who stood with Maia under one of the orange-trees. Gigantic as had the control of the Odensburg works appeared to him, from the start, never had the power and importance of Dernburg's position struck him as it did to-day--and this was to be his future destination. To be the ruler of such a world, to guide it with a word, a sign,--that had been his aim since that first evening when he had looked over at those works, veiled as they were in the darkness of night. Now, at last, he stood close before his goal.

His glance turned to Maia, and the proud triumph resting upon his features melted into a blissful smile. The half-comic, half-solemn dignity, with which Maia wore the long train to her blue silk gown, unused, as she was to such an appendage, became her charmingly; her rosy cheeks glowed from joyous exhilaration. With the frolicsomeness of a child she let herself be borne along by the waves of joyful excitement that were bounding in her heart. She knew that her father had withdrawn his opposition to her love.

"Is it not beautiful?" asked she, lifting her radiant eyes to his face.

"And Eric is so happy!"

Oscar smiled and bent over her.

"Oh, I know one who will be happier than Eric, when he stands there on yonder spot, with his young bride by his side, when----"

"Hush, Oscar!" interposed Maia with glowing face. "You know--papa will not allow a whisper of that now."

"n.o.body hears us," said Oscar, and indeed the noise of the music and cheers drowned his pa.s.sionate whispering. "And your papa is not so stern as he would have us believe. He has, it is true, denied my pet.i.tion to have our engagement publicly announced to-day, it was hard enough to wrest a consent from him on any terms. But now you are here, and if his darling asks him, he will not say her nay. I shall renew the siege to-morrow--will you help me, my Maia?"

She did not answer, only her eyes told him, that he should not lack the support asked for: with soft but fervent pressure he took her hand.

Wildenrod evidently had no objection to the company, guessing what at present they were not to be told.

The last group of workmen had just gone by, the marching past was at an end, and the whole ma.s.s of spectators moved in a body to the now vacant railroad station, in order to take the next train. On the terrace, too, everything was now in motion. The director once more received the thanks of Dernburg and his son, to which were added the compliments of the guests present, for the successful manner in which the affair had been conducted, and then the young couple with their friends retired into the house.

They were greeted in the vast entrance-hall by strains of music, and a table stood in waiting, richly decorated with flowers, silver and cut-gla.s.s, whence the most tempting refreshments were served. Little as Dernburg liked ordinarily to make a display of his wealth, to-day no expenditure was spared that could add to the splendor of the occasion.

The meal pa.s.sed as is usual at such times: healths were drunk, and after sitting at table for about two hours the dancing began, for which the younger portion of the company had waited longingly.

The newly-married pair only partic.i.p.ated in the first grand promenade and then withdrew. Maia, who was escorted back to her place by Wildenrod, saw that they left the hall with some surprise.

"Why do Eric and Cecilia break up already?" asked she. "They are not to set off for an hour to come?"

"It is Dr. Hagenbach's fault," declared Oscar. "He fears that Eric has over-exerted himself--quite unnecessarily, it seems to me, for Eric has never looked better than to-day."

"So it seems to me; but Cecilia looks so much the paler. She was all the while so grave and silent--I would have imagined a happy bride looking very differently."

Wildenrod's eyes had likewise followed his sister, a dark frown gathering upon his brow the while. But then, he shrugged his shoulders and replied in a careless tone:

"She is worn out and f.a.gged; no wonder either. The director has imposed a little too much upon us, with this endlessly long procession of his, for there we had to stay until the last company had marched by."

Maia shook her head, while her childlike features became grave and thoughtful. "Eric thinks it is something different, he is anxious to learn what."

"What is it that Eric wants to learn?" asked Wildenrod suddenly, so sharply that the young girl looked at him in surprise.

"Oh, he is mistaken perhaps, but upon my return he lamented to me the alteration that had taken place in Cecilia during the past few weeks.

He is afraid that some trouble is weighing upon her mind, and hoped that she might be persuaded to confide in me, since he had failed to learn her secret. I gladly obliged him by approaching her on the subject, but got nothing for my pains. She was equally reserved with me--Eric was quite miserable about it."

Oscar bit his lip and an expression came out upon his features that terrified Maia. As soon, however, as he noticed her questioning look, he gave a short laugh and said mockingly: "I am afraid Eric will make life hard for himself and his wife, with his overstrained tenderness.

Fortunately Cecilia is not attuned to such sentimentalities, and will laugh him out of his tendency to 'make mountains out of mole-hills.'"

The waltz just now beginning, interrupted the conversation between the two. A young officer to whom the daughter of the house was engaged for this dance, came up to claim her hand. Maia, who, for the first time danced in a large company, entered heartily into this amus.e.m.e.nt, but her eyes quickly turned again to the spot where the Baron stood, or rather had stood, for he was no longer there. She sought him in vain; he must have left the room.

Eric had attended his young wife to her chamber, and then repaired to his own apartments, to change his suit. He smiled over the painful solicitude of the doctor, who could never get over treating him as a sick man, no matter how well he felt, as for instance to-day. But with the prescription itself he was well pleased, for not yet had he been allowed a single minute of his wife's society in private. His traveling-suit was quickly donned, and now there was still left a half hour for a sweet, confidential chat, that n.o.body could disturb.

Full of impatience the young husband hurried out to go and find his wife, but at the foot of the stairs he stood still a moment and gazed through the wide-open portals of the grand reception-hall.

Out of doors lay the landscape in the full splendor of the evening-sun, whose golden light flooded also the flower-bestrewn terrace, and a broad shining beam also crossed the hall. From the works over yonder, where the festivities for the workmen took place, came sounds of music and rejoicing; and from the open windows of the ball-room, where a pause in the dancing had occurred, penetrated the gay talking and laughing of the company.

Eric's heart beat high for joy, and he drew a deep breath of satisfaction. What a lovely day it had been, this his wedding-day! And now life just began for him--now there beckoned to him the wide world, the sunny South; he would be free from oppressive, irksome duties, and there on the sh.o.r.e of the blue Mediterranean, with a sweet wife by his side, dream an enchanting dream of happiness. In the depths of his soul, he was pierced with grat.i.tude to the Giver of all good, who had showered upon him all these blessings.

With quick steps he mounted the stairs and was about to enter the small parlor which separated Cecilia's chamber from that of her brother, when he remarked that it had been bolted from the inside; also n.o.body opened in response to his light tap. He was impatient, and took another way.

Oscar's chamber had another peculiar entrance, a little tapestry-door, that was seldom or never used. Eric opened it and traversed the apartment of his brother-in-law and the adjoining parlor. His step was not audible upon the soft carpet, and moreover the door to Cecilia's chamber was close. Eric heard Wildenrod's voice from inside and stood still.

The brother, he supposed, had sought the bride in order to see her once more alone and to say farewell. This was natural and the parting--in any case so brief--ought not to be disturbed.

Yet what was that? The Baron's voice sounded stern and threatening, and now a wild, pa.s.sionate sob was heard. Was it Cecilia's voice? It could not be she who was thus distressed, weeping so despairingly! Eric turned pale, the foreboding of a great sorrow suddenly fell upon him, as though an ice-cold hand had laid its weight upon his chest. He tarried motionless in his place, every word reaching him through the closed door.

"Be reasonable, Cecilia! Have you lost all power of self-control? You must show yourself again to the guests and bid them farewell, Eric may come in any minute. Do collect yourself!"

No answer, only convulsive, inconsolable weeping.

"I dreaded something of the sort, and therefore sought you, but I was not prepared for such an outbreak as this. Cecilia, you must compose yourself."

"I cannot!" gasped Cecilia with half-stifled voice. "Leave me, Oscar! I have been obliged to smile and lie this livelong day--must do so again when I sit in that carriage with Eric--I'll die if I cannot take my cry out this once--only this single time."

The brother must have perceived that he could effect nothing here by the a.s.sumption of a domineering tone, for his voice was milder, when he rejoined:

"There it is again, that wretched pa.s.sionateness of your disposition, you should say to yourself, that this is the last of all hours, in which to abandon yourself thus. I have done everything to secure to you your happiness and you----"

"My happiness?" repeated Cecilia with sarcastic bitterness. "Why that lie, Oscar?--we are alone. You managed to deceive me so long as I was a thoughtless child, but you know the day that opened my eyes. You only wanted, through me, to pave the way to your own fortune, when you set yourself to make a match between Eric and me. You wanted to be master of Odensburg, therefore, I had to be the victim."

"And if I had this aim in view, I lifted you up with myself," cried Wildenrod with emphasis. "I have told you, often enough, that the question here for both of us is 'to be or not to be.' You consider yourself a victim do you? Why, to-day you received princely homage, and as those endless throngs of dependents marched past you, surely it must have become clear to you, what significance the name that you now bear, has in the world. That life in Odensburg, which you dreaded so, is to be spared you. You are to return to Italy. Eric worships you, he lives only in your looks, and will leave no wish of yours ungratified, showering upon you everything that wealth can give. What more can you ask of your marriage? This is good fortune, and one day you will thank me for it."

"Never! never!" cried the young woman, beside herself. "Oh! that I had fled from this good fortune! But you--you compelled my submission by the dreadful threat that you would follow our father's example, and I had to stay in order to save you. You have no idea, what torture I have endured since that time, in the midst of all Eric's goodness and tenderness. I never have loved him, never will love him, and now that the chain is irrevocably forged, I feel that it will crush me. I would rather lie down in death than in his arms!"

She suddenly hushed. "What was that?" she asked quickly.

"What?"

"I do not know--it sounded like a sigh!"

"Imagination! We are alone, I have secured ourselves against listeners.

What means that desperate outbreak? Have you waited until your wedding-day to be certain that you love another? Do you not know the truth, or _will_ you not? I have suspected it ever since that day when you and Runeck met on the Whitestone. It seemed as though you would lose your senses, at the bare idea of being despised by that man, of appearing before him in the light of an adventuress. I did not want to warn or frighten you--no one arouses a somnambulist upon his dangerous walk. But now it is time to wake up. Since that Egbert has crossed your path----"