Quicksands Part 16

She soon made up her mind that Bertha was greatly interested in the tutor; her tone of voice changed when she addressed him; she never jested with him as she did with Herr Storting and Herr von w.a.n.gen, or even with the Lieutenant; she was more reserved with him, although she listened eagerly to everything that he said. When engaged in lively conversation with others she nevertheless heard every word uttered by the Candidate, and she watched him when she thought herself un.o.bserved.

She was always present during Lieschen's music-lessons; she had asked permission to be in the room, saying, with a smile, that she could not ask Herr Pigglewitch to give her actual lessons, but that he could do so indirectly if he would allow her to observe his method with Lieschen. And she also joined the afternoon walks and rides which Herr Pigglewitch took with Lieschen and Fritz. She was a bold, fearless horsewoman, and especially enjoyed the rides. She certainly knew how well she looked in her riding-habit, and how the hat upon her black curls' became her.

And it was a significant fact, Frau von Osternau thought, that Bertha was never to be induced either to play on the piano or to sing when the Candidate was present, while in his absence she was always amiably ready to do so. She evidently feared his criticism. When he played she listened in rapt attention.

All these observations confirmed Frau von Osternau in her suspicion that Bertha was in danger of falling in love with the tutor, but she was led to doubt this again by certain observations and remarks of the young girl's, which gave her much food for reflection,--remarks similar to those which had so shocked her uncle Sastrow, and which were exceedingly singular in the mouth of a lovely young girl, since they betokened a perfectly materialistic conception of life and its duties.

Bertha was wont in conversation to play the part of a listener; she was usually reserved in the expression of her own views, and it was only when very much interested that she took a lively part in any discussion, but then she was apt to become eager and to express herself with reckless frankness. Thus at times she advanced opinions which shocked Frau von Osternau no less than they had Herr von Sastrow.

One evening, when the conversation turned upon a distant relative of Herr von Osternau, a beautiful young girl of an ancient n.o.ble family, who had just become the wife of a poor young bourgeois councillor, with whom she had long been carrying on a compromising love-affair, a sharp war of words had arisen between Herr von Osternau and the Lieutenant, the former expressing his great satisfaction in the marriage as the only atonement for the past, while Albrecht severely denounced the _mesalliance_ with a poor man from the people. Bertha agreed eagerly with the Lieutenant, declaring that a daughter of an ancient and n.o.ble race might be pardoned for yielding, in a moment of weakness, to an impulse of the heart, in bestowing her love upon a man her inferior in rank, but that she acted unpardonably in degrading herself and her family by a marriage with this inferior, especially if he were poor.

There was only one thing which could justify such a _mesalliance_, and that was immense wealth on the part of the inferior in rank,--wealth that could reinstate in splendour an impoverished family of n.o.ble descent. The present Frau Councillor had been both unprincipled and foolish: unprincipled in forgetting what was due to her n.o.ble descent, and foolish in forgetting what was due to herself. The highest aim of existence was enjoyment, and it was unpardonable folly to resign all the delights which wealth could procure for the sake of indulging in a brief dream of love from which one must soon awake to bitter repentance and misery.

Frau von Osternau listened in dismay; her favourable opinion of Bertha was shaken by her avowal of such sentiments, but the unpleasant impression faded when Bertha immediately afterwards showed herself so sweet-tempered and charming that it was impossible to resist her. Frau von Osternau could not but think that in her interest the young girl had been led to say more than she meant; it was a pity, but excusable; she was sure that Bertha herself would never conform her actions to the opinion which she had a.s.serted, and the girl's evident interest in Herr Pigglewitch seemed to her suspicious.

The good lady could not decide as to the sentiments entertained by the tutor for her guest, indeed the young man was more of a puzzle to her than ever. Immediately after his arrival at the castle he had become quite a different creature, had been transformed from an awkward, uncouth Candidate into a courteous, well-bred gentleman, a restlessness of manner peculiar to him had entirely vanished, and now since Bertha's arrival he had undergone another metamorphosis.

His eyes again showed the same restless gleam that animated them when he was agitated, the scornful smile, so long absent from his lips, again often hovered there, accompanying some sneering remark, and there was a want of repose about him which made itself especially apparent when he improvised upon the piano. Frau von Osternau often seemed to hear the cry of a wounded heart in the strange, wild melodies that echoed beneath his fingers, and anon she would be carried away by the din and strife of a chaos of tones which hara.s.sed and troubled her, and from which there was no escape save by a crashing dissonance. His playing was always admirable, but it no longer brought refreshment to the mind, it was bewildering, confusing. Lieschen was profoundly aware of this; her eyes did not fill with tears as she listened, but her cheek paled and her downcast glance would avoid that of the player when he had finished. When he noticed this he would turn away with a shiver, and pa.s.s his hand across his eyes as if to brush away some cloud, then, seating himself again at the instrument, he would evoke from it such touching sounds as quickly reconciled Frau von Osternau to the artist.

His conduct towards Bertha grew to be as contradictory as his music.

When he gazed at her his eyes would glow darkly, but when they were turned upon Lieschen their fire faded, a happy expression took its place, too often to be banished again by the mere sound of Bertha's voice. He seldom appealed directly to her in conversation; he even avoided all _tete-a-tetes_ with her, but what he said to others was constantly addressed indirectly to her. And this was frequently the case, as Lieschen told her mother, during their rides. The Herr Candidate addressed Fritzchen or herself, but what he said was meant for Bertha.

In short, Pigglewitch had become entirely changed since Bertha's arrival; he was the same only in one respect,--his duties were most scrupulously fulfilled. Over Fritzchen he exercised the same affectionate superintendence, beneath which his little pupil made extraordinary progress, and he acted with the same conscientiousness in his instruction of Lieschen. During the music-lessons he had neither eyes nor words for the lovely Fraulein von Ma.s.senburg, he seemed to live only for his pupil, and Lieschen showed her grat.i.tude by giving him her undivided attention.

These lesson-hours had come to be the happiest time of the day for the young girl, who had so lately been little more than a careless, happy child. Since Bertha's coming to the castle there had been a change in the daughter of the house, which filled her mother with anxiety. The girl no longer ran races with Fritzchen when lessons were over, her merry laughter no longer came floating up every day from the lawn, the charming romp, who had deserved and received many a loving reproof from her father, had vanished, and in her stead there was a serious, gentle, sensible maiden, almost too serious, her mother thought, remembering her former playfulness. It did not please Frau von Osternau that Lieschen had suddenly lost all pleasure in her childish games, that she would sit for a long while at times over her embroidery, not always working, sometimes in a profound revery, with hands clasped in her lap.

Of what could she be thinking? Her mother would have given much to know; such knowledge might have relieved her of a great dread,--a dread never quite laid to rest in her mind,--lest Lieschen should cherish a warmer affection for her music-teacher than her parents could approve,--an affection now shown, perhaps, by an awakening jealousy of Bertha von Ma.s.senburg.

This really seemed the only explanation of the change wrought in the young girl. This might be the reason why Lieschen withstood the charm which Bertha exercised upon all the other members of the household. She alone treated Bertha with a scrupulously courteous reserve, which was not to be overcome by any effort on the part of the guest to win her affection.

"What is your objection to Bertha Ma.s.senburg?" Frau von Osternau asked her daughter one morning when they were alone together, Bertha having accompanied her uncle in his walk in the fields. "You treat her with a coldness and reserve that she really does not deserve at your hands.

She will surely be offended by your manner some day."

"I think I show her all the courtesy that is her due," Lieschen replied, gravely, looking up from her work. "She has never heard an unkind word from me."

"That is not what I mean. It only seems to me that you might be more cordial and frank to so amiable a girl."

"I cannot feign what I do not feel."

"I do not understand you, Lieschen. Bertha treats you with special sweetness. She is fond of you, and shows that she is so by not being hurt by your coldness."

"I do not believe in the sincerity of her sweetness and cordiality. Now and then when she forgets herself in the heat of conversation she betrays her real thoughts and feelings, and a curtain suddenly seems lifted from before her inner self. Do you not remember how she spoke a while ago of Valerie Laupe?"

Frau von Osternau looked at her daughter in surprise, and, more for something to say than from a desire to defend Bertha, replied, "We ought not to weigh every hasty word with such nicety. One often says more in the heat of argument than reason would justify; you do so sometimes, as every one does. What, for example, should we think of Herr Pigglewitch, if all his words were so harshly criticised?"

Lieschen's cheek flushed slightly, but she looked up at her mother and replied, without embarra.s.sment, "They are both puzzles to me. In a certain way they are alike,--the true self of each seems hidden behind a veil; but when this veil is slightly lifted in his case I seem to see a poor, hara.s.sed heart, a spirit longing for the n.o.ble and the true. In Bertha's case the veil covers an abyss of selfishness, avarice, and love of pleasure."

"Good heavens, child! what puts such thoughts, such words into your head?" Frau von Osternau exclaimed in dismay.

"I cannot tell, mother. I have been thinking a great deal about these two people, and I have come to this conclusion."

Her mother did not continue the conversation, but at night, when she was alone with her husband, she repeated to him word for word what Lieschen had said. "If that extraordinary man had only never come inside our doors,"--it was thus she concluded her tale. "He, and not Bertha, is to blame for the sad transformation which our child has undergone. For my sake, Fritz, dismiss him. Pay him his salary for an entire year; only let him leave the house."

Herr von Osternau shook his head. "Do you think Lieschen conceals anything from you?" he asked.

"No, a.s.suredly not."

"Did she ever complain that he had spoken to her otherwise than as a teacher should speak to a pupil, or have you ever observed that he has in his lessons or in social intercourse with us transgressed any law of good breeding?"

"I cannot say that he has, but----"

"Has he ever neglected the duties which he undertook to perform when he entered our house? Is he not a conscientious and affectionate tutor for Fritzchen? Has he ever done anything for which he could justly be reproved?"

"No. I do not ask you to dismiss him abruptly. If you would pay him his salary for an entire year----"

"Do you suppose that a man of honour could be compensated by a year's salary for being turned from our door? I think there was a great deal of truth in what Lieschen said of him, and I should never forgive myself for wounding him by injustice. He certainly is not a happy man.

So long as he does his duty we must do ours. Good-night, Emma."

CHAPTER XIV.

PASTOR WIDMAN AS A CORRESPONDENT.

The Lieutenant had returned from Berlin, whither he had gone upon business for Herr von Osternau. He had driven over from the station without waiting for the sorting of the mail, because he was in haste to tell his cousin of the results of his mission, so he said at least to excuse himself for not bringing with him the post-bag, but the excuse was a very lame one, since he had but little to tell and his news could easily have waited for an hour.

Apparently the Herr Lieutenant had found waiting at the lonely station too tedious; he was in a mood on this particular evening to find such waiting very irksome, for he was possessed by a spirit of unrest that did not leave him even after he had reached the castle. Scarcely had he taken his place at the tea-table, and communicated to Herr von Osternau certain insignificant details relating to his visit to Berlin, when he arose quickly and hurried to the window, declaring that it was so warm that his head ached. After cooling his forehead against the panes he returned again to his place, only to arise in a few moments and pace the room hastily to and fro as he detailed some vapid anecdotes which he had heard in Berlin.

His restlessness was so evident that Herr von Osternau looked at him with some anxiety. "Are you not well, Albrecht?" he asked, kindly. "You look pale and your eyes are feverishly bright. Would you not rather go to your room?"

"No, no; nothing is the matter with me," the Lieutenant replied, hastily. "I am only a little upset by my Berlin visit; it always is so when I leave the quiet and repose of the country for the whirlpool of city life and sit far into the night with my old friends."

After this he forced himself to suppress all sign of the unrest which possessed him, but he could scarcely bear his part well in the conversation around the tea-table. After staring for a while absently before him, he would suddenly make some remark which showed that he had paid no attention to what was going on, and even Bertha, to whose slightest observation he was wont to pay great heed, could not to-night succeed in fixing his attention.

He was usually vexed when Pigglewitch was entreated to play, but to-night he hailed with joy Frau von Osternau's request for some music from the Candidate. He seemed to be glad to be relieved from the necessity of taking part in the general conversation. As soon as Egon had struck the first chord he left his place at the tea-table, and, exchanging a rapid glance with Bertha, retired to the recess of a window. Contrary to her habit, Bertha rose immediately afterwards and joined the Lieutenant in his retreat, where they were soon deeply engaged in a whispered conversation. They might easily have continued this unnoticed, for Herr and Frau von Osternau were absorbed in the music, if Herr von w.a.n.gen had not followed with his eyes Bertha's every movement. It did not escape him that the girl's cheeks were suddenly suffused by a burning blush at the Lieutenant's first whispered words, and that she instantly listened with the greatest eagerness to all that he said.

Herr von w.a.n.gen heard not one note of Egon's music, his entire attention was bestowed upon the pair whispering together in the recess; what would he not have given to overhear what they were saying? Several times during the month which Bertha had already pa.s.sed at Castle Osternau Herr von w.a.n.gen had been tormented by the suspicion that there was a greater degree of intimacy existing between the Lieutenant and the beautiful guest than either cared to have observed; he had surprised one or two meaning glances exchanged by them, but Bertha had always succeeded in allaying these suspicions by the easy indifference with which she received the Lieutenant's homage. He had hovered between fear and hope, the hope inspired by every gentle word addressed to him by Bertha, the fear aroused by every look exchanged between Bertha and the Lieutenant; to-night fear was in the ascendant, his jealousy was aroused, he felt desperately wretched, but in another moment he was lifted to heights of supreme delight, for Bertha looked across the room at him, and there was such enchantment in her glance as he had never seen there before. She spoke a few hasty words to Albrecht and then returned to her place at table, excusing herself in a low whisper to her neighbour for leaving him to learn from the Lieutenant how her father was. Herr von w.a.n.gen was enraptured, his jealousy of a moment before vanished, he was ashamed to have felt it. Never had Bertha been to him so gentle, so kind, so engaging as on this evening after her conversation with the Lieutenant. Herr von w.a.n.gen was so intoxicated with delight that he did not notice the depression of spirits of all the other members of the circle, Bertha alone excepted.

This melancholy mood had been induced by the contents of the post-bag, which had brought a letter for Herr von Osternau and one for Pigglewitch. The latter had indeed thrust his unread into his breast-pocket, but the mere fact that it was addressed in a hand unknown to him worried and annoyed him. Herr von Osternau, on the other hand, read his letter not only once, but several times; it must have contained some very depressing intelligence, for Herr von Osternau grew graver at each perusal, now and then casting a peculiarly searching glance at the tutor, and then continuing his reading with a shake of the head. The contents of the letter must have occupied his mind during the entire evening; he took scarcely any part in the conversation, and when Egon bade him good-night he did not respond with his usual cordiality.

Just as Egon was leaving the room Herr von Osternau recalled him: "Excuse me for a moment, Herr Pigglewitch, I have a few words to say to you."

Egon turned round and awaited his employer's pleasure, divided between anxiety and curiosity with regard to what had induced Herr von Osternau to adopt so unusual a tone in addressing him.

The old man paced the room silently to and fro for a while until the rest of the family had retired and left him alone with the tutor. Then, turning to Egon, he said, gravely,--

"I have received a very surprising letter that concerns you nearly, Herr Pigglewitch, and I do not deny that its contents have affected my good opinion of you. I do not wish to discuss them with you at present, such a conversation would probably agitate me, and rob me of my night's rest, which is very important for me, and then, too, I might under the immediate influence of the letter treat you with injustice. I must give you time to defend yourself; therefore I beg you to come to me to-morrow morning at nine o'clock, and we will quietly talk the matter over. Here is the letter, take it to your room and read it. You can return it to me to-morrow. No more for the present. Good-night, Herr Pigglewitch."

Egon was dismissed. He took the ominous epistle and repaired to his room, where, his curiosity on the stretch, he lit his lamp and read as follows: