Fickle Fortune Part 18

'Edmund told me that your departure was imminent. He will miss you sadly.'

'And I him; but in this life we cannot stay to consult our feelings.

When Fate decrees a separation, we must perforce submit and obey.'

The remark was intended to be playful, but the young man's voice thrilled with a certain sadness. His gaze rested on Hedwig as she stood before him, leaning slightly against the wooden railing. The Councillor's anxiety must have been exaggerated. His daughter appeared rosy and blooming, full of grace and charm as ever.

No t.i.ttle of change could be detected in her outward appearance, and yet she seemed quite other than the merry capricious fairy who had emerged so unexpectedly before two travellers from the clouds of drifting, driving snow. The flower which has blossomed in the full sunshine, but on which suddenly a shadow falls, remains in form and hue the same; it sends forth the same fragrance, only the sunlight has gone from it. Such a shadow now lay on the face of Count Ettersberg's happy, much-envied chosen bride, and the dark blue eyes had a dewy shimmer, as though they had learned a trick which so long had been unknown to them--the trick of tears.'

'The separation will be painful to you, then?' Hedwig said, continuing the conversation.'

'Certainly. In the great city, a longing will often come over me, a longing for Edmund and ... for the dear old mountains.'

'And none for Ettersberg?'

'None.'

The answer was so brief and decided that the girl looked up in surprise. Oswald noticed this, and added, by way of amendment:

'Forgive me. I forgot that Ettersberg will shortly be your home. I was thinking only of the circ.u.mstances which have made my sojourn there a painful one, and which no doubt have long been known to you.'

'But surely the circ.u.mstances you speak of have been modified. The family now place no obstacle in the way of your future career.'

'No; I have forcibly secured for myself freedom of action; but it cost a conflict, and to contend with my aunt is no light task, as you will one day find out for yourself.'

'I?' asked Hedwig, in surprise. 'I trust no contention may ever arise between me and my mother-in-law!'

She drew herself up as she spoke, and measured her companion with a half-proud, half-angry glance. He replied firmly and quietly:

'It may perhaps seem indelicate in me to touch on this subject, and it may be that you will altogether reject my interference as unwarranted, but I cannot go without uttering at least one word of warning. My aunt often speaks of leaving Ettersberg after her son's marriage--of retiring to her house of Schonfeld. Edmund opposes this plan vehemently, and hitherto you have lent him your support. Do so no longer; on the contrary, persuade him, if possible, to let his mother go. You owe it to him and to yourself, for both his happiness and yours are at stake. There will be no room at Ettersberg for a young mistress, so long as the Countess retains her position there--and in your case, grafted on an old enmity is a new and strong prejudice which you will find it hard to encounter.'

'I really do not understand you, Herr von Ettersberg,' said Hedwig, not a little agitated. 'Prejudice? Enmity? You cannot possibly be alluding to that foolish lawsuit about Dornau?'

'Not to the suit itself, but to the hostile feeling which gave rise to it. You probably do not know who strengthened and confirmed your grandfather in his harsh obduracy, and induced him finally altogether to ignore his daughter's marriage with a commoner. But your father knows, and he is mistaken if he thinks that the Countess has outlived her prejudices. She gave her consent to this union in a moment of surprise, moved by a sudden burst of grat.i.tude towards the man who had saved her life, moved, above all, by her great love for her son. What would she not do or surrender for his sake? But sooner or later she will repent the concession, if she does not repent already, and it is not Edmund, but you, who will be made to suffer for it.'

Hedwig listened with increasing agitation. The difficulties now so boldly and mercilessly set before her had become dimly apparent to herself, especially in these later days--but dimly only; she had as yet formed no clear idea of the situation.

'So far, I have had no reason to complain of Edmund's mother,' she said hesitatingly. 'She has always been most courteous and kind to me.'

'And heartily affectionate?'

The young girl was silent.

'Do not think I am influenced in my judgment by my own personal relations towards my aunt,' pursued Oswald. 'I a.s.suredly would not take upon me to sow distrust, did I not know how misleading too guileless a confidence may here prove. You are entering on a difficult position. The ground at Ettersberg is perilous ground for you, and it is right you should be warned before you set foot on it. Your mother fought a hard fight for her wedded happiness, but at least she had in her husband a firm stay and valiant defender. In your case the struggle will begin only after the marriage, but I fear it will not be spared you; for you are entering the bigoted and narrow-minded circle from which she escaped, and it remains to be seen whether Edmund will afford you the support of which you will stand in need. At all events, it is best to rely on one's self. Again I entreat of you on no consideration to consent to the plan of a joint household. You and your mother-in-law cannot live under one roof--Edmund must give up the idea.'

Hedwig shook her head slightly. 'That will be difficult, if not impossible. He loves his mother so well----'

'More than his affianced wife!' concluded Oswald emphatically.

'Herr von Ettersberg!'

'My words hurt you, Fraulein? No doubt the fact is a painful one, but you must learn to look the truth in the face. Hitherto you have heedlessly toyed with Edmund's love, and have met with sportive homage and mere trifling in return. All the deeper feelings of his nature you have left to his mother, who has well known how to pursue her advantage. Edmund is capable of something better than superficial, playful tenderness. Beneath that gay exterior lie warm affections--I might almost say strong pa.s.sions--but they must be awakened, and so far his mother alone has fathomed these depths. Make sure now of that which is yours by right. The power of a first and early love is in your hands as yet. When that fair glamour has spent itself, it may be too late.'

He had spoken with great earnestness, but with his wonted utter disregard of any susceptibilities he might wound. Every word fell on his listener's ear with strong, unsparing emphasis, and flattering the words certainly were not. But a few months previously Hedwig would either have resented such a warning as an offence, or have laughed it away in happy, lighthearted confidence--now she listened in silence, with bowed head. He was right, she felt it; but why must these counsels come to her from his lips, why must she hear these cruel words from _him?_

'You are silent,' said Oswald, when he had waited in vain for an answer. 'You reject my advice, you think my interference uncalled for and impertinent.'

'No,' replied Hedwig, drawing a deep breath. 'On the contrary, I thank you, for I feel all the importance of such a warning coming from you.'

'And what it costs me to speak it?'

The words rushed to Oswald's lips, but he did not p.r.o.nounce them.

Perhaps his thought was divined, nevertheless.

The little terrace on which the two were standing rose out of a group of thickly cl.u.s.tering bushes, and offered a fine panoramic view of the surrounding country. Over broad meadows and green wooded hills the eye could wander away to the lofty mountain-summits which were in reality far distant, but which in that clear atmosphere seemed to have advanced their posts and to have drawn quite near. The particular spur of forest which formed the boundary between the Ettersberg and Brunneck domains could plainly be distinguished, and the gaze of both Oswald and Hedwig sought this spot. It was the first time they had met alone since their memorable interview on yonder hill-side. A whole summer-time lay between then and now, and much, how much besides!

Raw and inclement had been that spring-day, void of warmth and sunshine. Leaves and blossoms still shrank, hiding in their sealed retreat. The landscape was shrouded in fog and raincloud, and those happy heralds, the swallows, had pierced their way through ma.s.ses of dense mist, ere they emerged suddenly in the gray distance. Yet those winged messengers had borne spring on their swift pinions--none knew this better than the two who now stood speechless side by side. They had seen how the great transformation scene may be effected in a night, how grandly, victoriously Nature works when she rallies to the task before her.

Now it was autumn--a beautiful clear day, indeed, with soft mild air and bright sunshine, but still autumn. The foliage, still thick on bough and branch, had that faint gleam of russet which foretells a speedy fall. The gay wealth of flowers had vanished from the meadows, all but the pale saffron, which yet glimmered here and there, and the swallows, streaking the sky in long flights, were gathering for their journey southwards. Farewell was written everywhere on Nature's countenance, as on the two sorrowing human hearts--farewell to summer, home, and happiness.

Hedwig first broke the oppressive silence which had followed her last words.

'The swallows are leaving us too,' she said, pointing upwards. 'They are on the wing.'

'I go with them'--Oswald completed her meaning--'but there is this difference ... I shall not return.'

'Not return? You will come back to Ettersberg sometimes, will you not?'

She put the question with a certain eager anxiety. Oswald looked down.

'I hardly think that will be possible. I shall not have much leisure, and besides--when a man cuts himself adrift from old ties, and changes his way of life entirely, as I am about to do, it is best for him to remain away, and to devote all his energies to the sphere he has just entered. Edmund cannot be made to understand this. He hardly appreciates, as yet, the claims of duty.'

'And yet he is more anxious about you and your future than you believe,' interposed Hedwig.

Oswald smiled half disdainfully.

'He may spare himself any anxiety. I am not one to undertake a task beyond my strength, and then to abandon it feebly halfway. What I have begun I shall carry through, and, come what may, I shall, at least, have shaken off from me the bonds of dependence.'

'Did these bonds weigh so heavily on you?'

'Yes; with a crushing weight.'

'Herr von Ettersberg, you are unjust to your family.'

'And ungrateful,' added Oswald, with a sudden outburst of bitterness.

'You have heard that frequently from my aunt, no doubt--and she may possibly be right from her point of view. Perhaps I ought to have submitted myself more docilely to the yoke laid upon me, and patiently played out the _role_ a.s.signed to me by Fate. But then, you see, I _could_ not. You do not know what it is constantly to bend to the will of another, when your own judgment has long been formed, to be thwarted in every effort, checked in every aspiration, not even to have the right of reply and remonstrance. I know that my future is uncertain, that it may be th.o.r.n.y, that I shall need all the energy and strength of will I possess, in order to succeed; but it will be _my_ future, my own life, which I may shape and order as I please, unfettered by the galling chain of benefits conferred. And if I fail in the career I have marked out for myself, I shall, at least, have gained the right to fashion my own destiny.'

He drew himself up as he spoke these last words, and his chest heaved with a great sigh of satisfaction and relief. It seemed as though in this moment the great load he had borne so silently, but with so much grievous suffering, fell from the young man's shoulders. He stood bold and defiant, ready to accept the world's challenge, and to fight the battle before him to the bitter end. It was easy to see that he was one fitted to wrestle with Fortune, however hostile and uncompromising her att.i.tude towards him might be.

Hedwig now for the first time understood how the iron had entered his soul, understood what this proud, unbending nature had endured from a position which many were disposed to envy, because it implied a share in the Ettersberg greatness and splendour.