Fickle Fortune Part 25

'Can you really still intend to take that journey?'

'No, I shall remain; but I must be out in the open air, or I shall stifle. Let me go, uncle.'

'First give me your word that you will do nothing rash, nothing desperate. In your present state, you are capable of any madness. What am I to say to your mother?'

'What you will. I have no other intention than to ride about the country for a couple of hours. Perhaps I shall be better then.'

With these words Edmund hurried away, his uncle making no further effort to stop him. He saw that neither persuasion nor soothing words of comfort could avail at present. Perhaps it would be well to let the storm spend itself.

Hour after hour pa.s.sed. Noon came, then gradually dusk drew on, and still the young Count did not appear. At the castle the anxiety produced by his protracted absence grew with every minute. Baron Heideck reproached himself most bitterly for having allowed his nephew to leave him in so excited a frame of mind, but he was obliged to conceal his fears. He had to be strong, to think and act for his sister, whose brain seemed well-nigh to reel beneath the weight of dread and suspense. She wandered from room to room, from window to window, rejecting all her brother's attempts at encouragement with a mute, despairing gesture. Better than he, than anyone, she knew her son, and knew therefore what was to be feared.

'It really is useless for us to send messengers, Constance,' said Heideck, as he stood near her at the window. 'We have not even an approximate idea of the road Edmund took, and it only causes the servants to shake their heads and gossip more persistently. The young madman must have tired himself out by this time. Now that it is growing dark he is sure to turn homewards.'

'If he has not started on his journey after all,' whispered the Countess, whose eyes never once swerved from the avenue leading up to the castle.

'No,' replied Heideck decidedly. 'I made it evident to him that his confession would involve another, and who that other would be; we have nothing to fear on that score. He has certainly not gone to Oswald, but----'

He forebore to finish his speech, out of consideration to the Countess, but a great dread had seized upon him. Might not his nephew, by some despairing act, have sought a solution which would be worse, more cruel even than the threatened avowal to Oswald?

Another troubled pause ensued, another interval of painful silence, such as had frequently occurred that afternoon. Suddenly the Countess started up with a cry, and bent forward, far out of the window.

Heideck, following her example, could discern nothing, but the mother's eye had already recognised the figure of her son, in spite of mist and gathering darkness. There he was--still distant, however--at the farther end of the avenue. The Countess's self-control now utterly forsook her. She did not remember that a plea of illness had been advanced for her to the servants: did not stay to consider how Edmund might receive her. She only wanted to see him; to have him with her again, and she rushed to meet him, so swiftly and impetuously that her brother could hardly follow her.

Outside in the vestibule they had a few minutes to wait, for the young Count, who had set off from home at a furious gallop, was returning at a snail's pace. The horse, fairly bathed in sweat, trembled in every limb; at length it halted before the door. The animal was evidently completely spent, and its rider seemed to be in the same condition.

He, who usually would swing himself so lightly from the saddle, dismounted now slowly, almost laboriously, and it cost him a visible effort to ascend the few steps leading up to the entrance-hall.

The Countess stood on the very spot where some months before she had received her son on his return from his foreign travels. Then, radiant with the happiness of meeting her, he had rushed impetuously into her arms. Today he did not even notice that his mother was there. His clothes were saturated with rain, his damp hair clung to his brow, and he moved slowly forward, never looking round, but walking straight in towards the staircase.

'Edmund!'

It was a faint, trembling cry. Edmund turned, and beheld his mother standing close before him. She said not another word, but in her eyes he could read the misery, the anguish of the last few hours. And as she stretched forth her arms to him, he did not recoil, but stooped down to her. His lips met her forehead with a damp and icy touch, and in a whisper, audible to her alone, he said:

'Be at peace, mother. I will try and bear it for your sake.'

CHAPTER XII.

Two months had now pa.s.sed since Oswald had taken up his abode in the capital, where he had met with a most friendly welcome. His friend and patron, Councillor Braun, ranked among the first jurisconsults of that city, and this gentleman, happy to lend a helping hand to the son of his deceased friend, stood warmly by him, advancing his interests, and lending him all the a.s.sistance in his power. He comprehended and sympathized with this young man in the resolution he had taken. It was a worthy impulse, the old lawyer felt, which withdrew Oswald from a life of dependence, easy and brilliant though it might be in outward circ.u.mstances--a right feeling which made him prefer to work and struggle on alone, rather than to receive constant benefits from his relations, and submit, in return, to play a subordinate part through life.

Herr Braun and his wife were childless, and their young guest was received by them almost on the footing of a son. Oswald threw himself zealously into the work before him, and the approaching examination left him little leisure to ruminate on all that he had left at Ettersberg; still, it surprised him greatly that no news from the castle had reached him. Edmund had replied to his first long letter full of details by only a few lines, the style of which seemed strangely forced.

An excuse was offered for this brief note on the score of a maimed hand, the writer's wound being not yet healed. Oswald was still looking for a response to his second epistle, though weeks had elapsed since it had been despatched.

The young man knew full well that by the return of that picture the bridge of communication between himself and the Countess had been broken once and for all, that she would now use every effort to loose the bonds which bound him to her son; but it seemed impossible that Edmund should succ.u.mb so quickly and completely to her influence.

Thoughtless as the young Count often showed himself, his friendship for his cousin had ever been faithful and true. He could not have forgotten the friend of his youth in the course of a few short weeks.

There must be something else that prevented his writing.

The first days of December had arrived. Oswald's examination was over; he had pa.s.sed it brilliantly, and was desirous of at once entering upon his new career. But Councillor Braun declared decidedly that after the exertions of the last few weeks the young man stood in need of rest, that he must grant himself a respite, and remain on some little while longer as a guest in his house.

Half reluctantly Oswald yielded. He felt himself that he required a certain breathing-time after the constant study and strain, which had lasted since the preceding spring.

In that pa.s.sionate struggle for independence he had made almost too great demands on his strength.

The great lawyer was in his consultation-room, where he had just completed the business of the day, when Oswald came in with a letter, which he placed on a pile of correspondence prepared for the post. It was about the hour when the servant generally collected and despatched it.

'Have you been writing to Ettersberg?' asked the old gentleman, looking up.

Oswald replied in the affirmative. He had conveyed to Edmund the news of his successful examination. An answer must come now at length, he thought; this protracted silence began to cause him some uneasiness.

'We were talking of the Ettersberg property here, not long ago,' said the lawyer. 'One of my clients intends to purchase timber from the estate to a large amount, and he consulted me as to one or two points in the bargain.'

Oswald's attention was roused at once. 'Purchase timber to a large amount? There must be some mistake. So much wood has been cut down of late years in the Ettersberg forests, that they now require great care and the nicest handling. My cousin is aware of this; he could not possibly have been persuaded into taking such a step.'

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders. 'Nevertheless, I can a.s.sure you, it is as I say. My client does not treat with the Count himself, but with the bailiff. Of course, the man must be empowered to make such arrangements.'

'The bailiff will be leaving his situation shortly,' remarked Oswald.

'He received notice to quit in the summer, having proved himself flagrantly incompetent. He cannot, I should suppose, have been left in possession of the extended powers Baron Heideck conferred on him years ago. I imagined that Edmund would recall those when he took upon himself the management of his own affairs. Suppose such not to have been the case?'

'It would be an act of unpardonable negligence on the part of the young Count,' replied the lawyer. 'To leave for months powers such as these in the hands of a person whom he is about to dismiss, with whose services he is dissatisfied! Do you really think it possible?'

Oswald was silent. He well knew Edmund's heedlessness and indifference to all business matters, and was persuaded that he had left matters exactly as he had found them.

'The sum in question is an important one,' went on the lawyer, who understood his silence. 'Yet the price to be paid by the purchaser is a very low one, immediate payment in cash being demanded.'

'I think there must be something more here than a mere a.s.sumption of authority on the steward's part,' said Oswald uneasily. 'Hitherto he has been looked upon as an honest man, but the fact that he is about to lose his situation may tempt him to take fraudulent advantage of the means at his command. My cousin has certainly not given his consent to this bargain. Why, it would entail the devastation of his forests! I am convinced that he knows nothing at all about it.'

'That may be--but if the man's powers are not cancelled, he will have to recognise a transaction which is concluded in his name. You had better telegraph to Ettersberg, and inquire how the matter stands.

Perhaps a timely warning may be of some avail.'

'No doubt, if timely it prove. When are the formalities of the sale to be settled?'

'In two or three days. Probably the day after to-morrow.'

'Then I must go over to Ettersberg myself,' said the young man resolutely. 'A mere telegram will serve us nothing. Immediate and active steps must be taken, for as I understand the business, there is an act of robbery in contemplation which we have to prevent. Edmund unfortunately is too confiding in such matters, and will allow himself to be deceived by all sorts of shifts and subterfuges until it is too late to think of a remedy. I am at liberty just at present, and in three days I can be back. It will certainly be best that I should see my cousin and give him the necessary information, that he may act without delay.'

Councillor Braun a.s.sented. The whole business, and especially the hurried manner in which it was transacted, seemed to him suspicious in the highest degree, and it pleased him that the young man, who had, so to say, broken with his relations, should now so decidedly, and without a moment's hesitation, interfere to protect them from loss and injury.

In the course of that same evening Oswald made all preparations for his improvised journey. Ettersberg was situated within easy reach of the city. By taking the morning train he could be there by noon. Some pretext could easily be found by which his visit to the castle could be limited to a day or two at most, and the wedding, which at all costs he was determined to avoid, was not to take place until Christmas.

At Ettersberg nothing, of course, was known of this intended visit.

The dwellers at the castle had enough, and more than enough, to do with the preparations for the coming wedding and for the accommodation of the young couple in their future home. Many alterations were being made on the _bel etage_, which was to be given up altogether to the Count and his wife, and the necessary arrangements were as yet by no means completed. Besides this, Schonfeld had to be set in readiness for the Dowager Countess, who intended to take up her residence there directly after the wedding.

The Countess's resolve to leave Ettersberg after her son's marriage had taken everyone by surprise. She had, it is true, occasionally alluded to such a plan, but never in real earnest, and had always submitted with a very good grace to Edmund's vehement protests against the idea of a separation. Now both seemed to have altered their views.

The Countess suddenly announced that in future she should make her home at Schonfeld, a smaller dwelling which her husband had expressly appointed her for a dower-house, and Edmund raised no objection whatsoever. At Brunneck this sudden determination excited much amazement and comment, but at the same time it gave entire satisfaction. Rustow had always feared for his daughter a life under the same roof with her mother-in-law, and this unexpected turn of events was too welcome and acceptable in itself for him to muse or ponder much over the cause of it.

The last two months had sped by with wonderful rapidity, leaving little or no time for meditation of any sort. First, there was Dornau to take possession of, to restore and furnish throughout, before, as Hedwig's dowry, it returned to Ettersberg for ever. What with this and the preparations for the coming wedding, which was to be a very brilliant affair, with the constant flow of visits and invitations from all quarters--they had lived in a whirl of occupation and excitement. Autumn was always the gay season here in the country.