Clear the Track! Part 34

"No! no!" interposed Cecilia repelling the imputation.

"Yes!" said Oscar with cold insistency. "Do you think, it has escaped me how, this morning, when I drove to church with you as bride-man, you turned deadly pale and then like one spellbound gazed at one particular spot in the woods? You had remarked him, who, I suppose, had come to take one last look at you. He was far enough off, it is true, half-hidden behind the trees. At such a distance one recognizes only his deadly foe or the man whom one loves--and we both recognized him."

His sister made no answer, but did not contradict his a.s.sertion. But now it was Oscar who started in affright. He had heard close by a noise as of a door falling gently to, and seized by an ill-defined apprehension, he hurriedly opened the door leading into the parlor.

Delusion! the parlor was empty, the bolt still undisturbed. But a glance at the mantel-clock convinced the Baron that it was high time to terminate the interview; he returned to his sister.

"I must go back to the company," said he, in subdued tones, "and you too must prepare for your journey. You have had your cry out, now consider what you owe to yourself and me! You are Eric's wife, and tomorrow miles will already lie between you and that other, whom I hope you will never see again. I have seen to it, that he can do no more harm at Odensburg, and you will forget him, because you must."

He unbolted the door and rang for the lady's maid.

The tearful eyes of the bride could be explained by the pain of parting from her brother; nevertheless, he would not leave her by herself for a single minute. Not until Nannon entered did he leave the room.

Down in the front-hall the Baron met a man-servant, bearing Eric's hand-satchel and cloak, of whom he asked in pa.s.sing:

"Can you tell me if Herr Dernburg is in his own room?"

"No, Baron, he is with his lady," answered the man in surprise.

"Oh, no, I have just left my sister."

"But I saw the young master go upstairs myself," the servant ventured to reply. "It was about a half hour ago. Have you not seen him yourself, sir? He went into your room through the little tapestried door."

Wildenrod turned pale to his very lips, for of this entrance he had not thought. Whether Eric had really been in the parlor, whether he had heard what Oscar dared not carry out the thought, he left the servant standing and hurried to his brother-in-law's apartments.

n.o.body was in the first room, but when the Baron had opened the chamber-door, involuntarily he started back.

Eric lay stretched out on the floor, apparently lifeless, with closed eyes. The head had fallen back; and bosom, clothes, and the carpet round about were saturated with clear, red blood, that still flowed from his lips in single drops.

For the s.p.a.ce of a few seconds Oscar stood like one transfixed, but then he pulled the bell-rope violently. With the aid of the servants, who came running up, he raised the unconscious bridegroom from the floor and laid him on his bed, at the same time ordering Dr. Hagenbach to be called, so as to excite as little attention as possible.

In a very few minutes the physician was at his post. He silently listened to Wildenrod's report, while he felt the pulse and listened to the beating of the heart; then he drew himself up and said softly:

"Bring your sister in, Baron, and prepare her for the worst. I shall have his father and Maia called."

"Do you fear?" asked Oscar just as softly, but Hagenbach shook his head.

"There is no longer room here for either fear or hope. Lead his bride here--perhaps he may once more recover consciousness."

A quarter of an hour later, the whole house knew that Eric Dernburg, whom they had just seen at the summit of human felicity, now lay on a bed of death. It had not been possible to suppress the dread tidings; they flew like wild-fire. In the ball-room, the music ceased abruptly, the guests stood around in awe-stricken silence or whispered in mournful accents, the servants, meanwhile, running to and fro, with distorted faces. Like a flash of lightning the stroke had fallen upon the festive scene.

The family had gathered around the death-bed. Dr. Hagenbach was still busied in the application of various restoratives, but it was evident that he expected nothing more from them. By the side of the couch knelt the young wife, in her white satin bridal robe that she had not yet laid aside when the message of misfortune came. She was tearless, but pale as death. She suspected some secret, strange coincidence.

On the other side stood Dernburg, in speechless grief, his eyes riveted upon his son, for the preservation of whose life he had been willing to make any sacrifice, and, in spite of it all, he was to be s.n.a.t.c.hed from him. Maia sobbed on her father's bosom. Wildenrod did not dare to approach either her or the death-bed, but, silent and moody, kept in the background. He had believed his game to be lost, and now he should win anyhow. The poor man, whose life was bleeding away there so slowly, could never bring an accusation against him, but take to the grave with him what he had heard and what had given him his death-blow.

Motionless, Eric lay there with closed eyes, seeming hardly to suffer at all. His breathing became easier and easier, until presently the physician laid down the hand which he had been holding while he counted the pulse. Cecilia saw this and guessed the significance of the act.

"Eric!" she shrieked. It was a cry of despair, of deadly anguish; and it shocked the dying man out of his stupor. Slowly he opened his eyes, that, already dimmed by death, sought the beloved countenance that leaned over him, but those eyes expressed such infinite love, so deep and silent a lament, that Cecilia shuddered and shrank back. It was only an instant of consciousness--the last. One more deep sigh from that wounded breast--and all was over.

"The end has come!" said the physician softly.

With loud weeping, Maia sank upon the corpse of her brother, and over Dernburg's cheeks, too, rolled a few big tears, as he kissed the cold brow of his son.

But then he turned to the young wife, gently lifted her up and folded her in his arms.

"Here is your place, Cecilia," said he, with deep emotion. "You are my son's widow, and my daughter. You shall find in me a father!"

CHAPTER XVI.

SCENES AT THE "GOLDEN LAMB."

In the town, that was the railroad station both for Odensburg and the whole region round about, was situated the "Golden Lamb," a well-known and much-frequented inn. The immediate neighborhood of the railroad station and the lively intercourse that continually took place between this place and the Odensburg works, brought much custom to the house.

All who came from Odensburg or went thither, used to turn in at the "Golden Lamb," which had the best repute, so far as accommodations were concerned.

The original proprietor had been dead for a long while, but his widow had given him a successor in the person of Herr Pancratius Willmann. He had once chanced to call here as a guest with the purpose of looking out for some small office in the town, but he had then preferred to court the rich widow and remain in that snug nest. He had succeeded in this plan, and was very comfortably off in consequence. He left it to his wife to manage in kitchen and cellar, reserving to himself the more pleasant duties of entertaining the guests and showing them, by his own example, how excellent was the cookery of the "Golden Lamb."

It was on a gloomy, raw October day, which made one feel that autumn had come in earnest, when Dr. Hagenbach's buggy stopped before the inn; the doctor himself, though, sat in the comfortable gentlemen's parlor upstairs which was only open to favored guests. Dagobert was equipped for a journey, since he was to take the next train for Berlin, where he was to enter the high school. In spite of his uncle's rigid discipline, the young man's stay at Odensburg did not seem to have been disadvantageous to him, for he looked more manly and healthier than in the spring.

Herr Willmann, who would not let the doctor be served by anybody but himself, had informed him, with woful visage, that his health had certainly been better since he had strictly followed his prescriptions, but that he was half-starved nevertheless. Hagenbach listened, quite unmoved, and ordered the continuation of the same treatment, without paying the least heed to mine host's dismay.

"Times seem to be lively with you to-day, Herr Willmann. The sitting room downstairs is swarming like a veritable bee-hive. You are having a grand political gathering. I hear the whole social democracy of the town meet at your house. At all events it is a sign for good that the gentlemen have selected the 'Lamb' for a place of rendezvous of their own accord. It indicates peaceful intentions, at all events."

Herr Willmann folded his hands, and his visage became very rueful.

"Ah, Doctor, do not laugh at me, I am in downright despair. I built the new hall last year, for innocent and instructive entertainment--it is the largest in the whole town--and now those radicals, those revolutionists, those anarchists hold their meetings in it--it is dreadful----"

"If it is dreadful to you, why do you take such characters into your house?" asked Hagenbach dryly.

"How am I to refuse them anything? They would ruin my business, maybe blow up my house with dynamite!" Mine host shuddered at this horrible idea. "I did not dare to say no, when that Landsfeld came and demanded my hall. I trembled before that man, yes, trembled in every limb."

"That must have been very flattering to Mr. Landsfeld," said the doctor, taking a huge draught from the beer mug standing before him, while Willmann continued his lamentation.

"But how am I to answer for it to my other customers--you may depend they'll make me pay for it--and what will Herr Dernburg say?"

"I suppose Herr Dernburg will be utterly indifferent as to whether the Socialists meet at the 'Golden Lamb' or elsewhere, and that you will not lose his custom by it either .... for that matter he never did take a meal at your house, did he?"

"Oh, Doctor, what are you thinking of? My little house, only imagine it! The Odensburg family always drive straight to the depot. All the subordinate officers, though, deal with me; why, I put my main dependence upon Odensburg, and would not for any money in the world----"

"Have it all spoiled for the sake of one party!" said Hagenbach, finishing his sentence for him.

"Of course, that is a matter of business, Runeck is to speak to-day; not a seat will be vacant in your big hall, and it will yield you a pretty profit."

Herr Pancratius Willmann lifted both hands in deprecation and cast his eyes up at the ceiling. "What am I caring for the profit? But I cannot let my business go to rack and ruin, these hard times. I am the father of a family, have six children----"

"Why, the hard times do not seem to have preyed heavily on you,"