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"It was a confession," said he with strong emphasis. "I did not, indeed, imagine that you would hear it, but as it was so--did you understand it?"
His wife was silent.
"I only saw your eyes for one moment," continued he pa.s.sionately, "but I saw that tears stood in them. Did you understand me, Ella?"
"I comprehended that the author of such tones could not endure the narrow circle of my parent's house," replied Ella firmly, "and that perhaps he chose the best for himself when he broke through it and plunged into a life full of warmth and pa.s.sion, such as his music paints. You have sacrificed everything to your genius--I bear you testimony that this genius was worthy of the sacrifice."
The last words sounded intensely bitter; they seemed to have touched the same chord in Reinhold.
"You do not know how cruel you are," said he in a like tone, "or rather you know it only too well, and make me suffer tenfold for every pang I once caused you. What indeed is it to you, if I rise or succ.u.mb in a life which the world deems unequalled happiness, which I often, so often already, would have given away for a single hour of rest and peace! What is it to you, if your husband, the father of your child, be devoured with wild longing for reconciliation with a past which he could never quite tear out of his heart, if at last he despairs of everything and of himself! He has merited his fate; therefore the rod was broken over him, and the elevated, virtuous pride of his wife denies him every word of reconciliation, denies him even the sight of his child--"
"For Heaven's sake, Reinhold, control yourself," interrupted Ella anxiously. "We are not alone here--if a stranger heard us!"
He laughed bitterly--
"Well, then he would hear the great crime, that the husband has for once dared to speak to his wife. And if all the world learn it, I care no longer upon whom the discovery, whom the condemnation falls. Ella you must remain," interrupted he beside himself, as he saw she wished to depart. "For once I must ease my breast of what I have carried about with me for months, and as you are at other times so inaccessible to me, you must listen to me now and here. You must I say."
He seized her arm, so as to detain her by force; but at the same moment Marchese Tortoni appeared at the door, and stepped almost furiously between them.
Reinhold let his wife's arm go, and drew back. Cesario's appearance showed him that the latter must have been present at least during the last scene; with dark brow and a grave look the Marchese placed himself at once by Ella's side.
"May I offer you my arm, Signora?" said he, very positively. "Your uncle is uneasy at your absence. You will allow me to accompany you to him."
Reinhold had already mastered his astonishment, but not his excitement.
The interruption at such a moment irritated him to excess, and the sight of Cesario at his wife's side robbed him completely of his self-control.
"I request that you will withdraw, Cesario," said he violently and dictatorially, with that superiority which he had always employed towards his young friend and admirer, but he forgot that he no longer held the foremost place with the latter. The Marchese's eyes flashed with indignation, as he replied--
"The tone of your request is as singular, Rinaldo, as the request itself; you will therefore understand if I do not accede to it. I certainly did not understand the German words which you exchanged with Signora Erlau, but yet I saw that she was to be compelled to stay when she wished to go. I fear she requires protection--pray command me, Signora!"
"You will protect her from _me_?" cried Reinhold, becoming excited. "I forbid _you_ to approach this lady!"
"You appear to forget that it is not Signora Biancona in this case,"
said the Marchese, cuttingly. "You may have a right there to forbid or allow, but here--"
"I have it here more than any other."
"You lie."
"Cesario! You will answer for this to me," cried Reinhold angrily.
"As you please," replied the Marchese, equally violently.
Ella had up to this time tried in vain to interrupt the sentences which were exchanged rapidly between the wildly excited men; they did not listen to her, but the last words, whose meaning she understood only too well, showed her the whole extent of the danger of this unhappy meeting. With quick decision she stepped between them, and said with a determination which commanded attention even at this moment--
"Marchese Tortoni, do not proceed any farther! It is a misunderstanding."
Cesario turned at once to her. "Pardon, Signora! We forgot your presence;" said he more calmly. "But you overlook the fact that in Signor Rinaldo's words there lies an insult to you, which I am not inclined to tolerate. I cannot and shall not retract my words, unless you were to convince me that he is right."
Ella struggled with herself in agonising indecision. Reinhold stood silent and gloomy; she saw that he would not speak now, that with this silence he wished to compel her, either to deny or acknowledge him as her husband; but to deny him, meant in this case to call forth the worst consequences. The insult had taken place, and with the two men's characters, a fatal meeting was inevitable. If it were not withdrawn, no choice remained to the wife.
"Signor Rinaldo goes too far when he still claims rights which he once possessed," replied she at last. "But no insult lay in his words, he spoke--of his wife!"
Reinhold breathed more freely--at last she confessed it before Cesario.
The latter stood as if struck by lightning. Often as he had sought for a solution of the enigma, he had never expected one such as this.
"Of his wife!" repeated he almost stupified.
"We have been separated for years," said Ella voicelessly.
This explanation restored the Marchese's steadiness. He immediately guessed the cause of the separation; did he not know Beatrice Biancona?
The one name made all clear to him, and left no doubt as to whose side the fault lay on now. The Captain was right in his conjecture; the discovery, instead of frightening Cesario away, rather made him break forth in pa.s.sionate partizanship for the beloved and injured wife.
"Well then, Signora," said he quickly, "it only rests with you, whether you will recognise a claim, which Rinaldo founds upon a past, which exists no longer, and which he himself surely destroyed. You alone have to decide whether I may still approach you, if in future I may dedicate a feeling to you, which I confess openly is now more than the cold admiration of a stranger, and which one day you must accept or refuse."
He spoke with all the ardour of a long suppressed emotion, but also with the n.o.ble, immovable confidence of a man, to whom the beloved one is elevated above all doubt, and the language was sufficiently plain; it pressed urgently for a decision, from which the wife shrank back tremblingly.
"Yes, indeed Eleonore, you must decide," said Reinhold, now taking up the word. His voice all at once sounded unnaturally calm, but the glance which hung openly on his wife with an expression as if in the next moment the fiat of life or death should fall from her lips, showed better how it was with him. For one second's duration both their eyes met, and Ella could have been no woman had she not now seen that the most perfect, annihilating revenge lay in her hand. One single "Yes"
from her lips would avenge all that she had suffered. Slowly she turned to Cesario.
"Marchese Tortoni--I beg you to desist--I still consider myself bound."
A short portentous pause followed the words. Ella saw what a struggle between pain and pride of the man, who would not show how deeply he had been struck, went forward in the young Italian's beautiful features; she saw him bow to her, without speaking a word, and turn to go; but courage failed her to cast a glance to the other side.
"Cesario!" cried Reinhold, going a step towards him as if in rising repentance. "We are friends."
"We _were_ so," replied the Marchese, coldly. "You surely comprehend, Rinaldo, that this hour separates us. My accusation against you I must certainly retract! your wife's explanation exonerates you from it--farewell, Signora."
He left the husband and wife alone. Neither spoke during the next few minutes. Ella bent low over one of the perfumed flowers, and a few tears fell upon the broad shining leaves. Then her name was borne to her ear by a trembling breath--she seemed not to hear it.
"Eleonore!" repeated Reinhold.
She raised her eyes to him. Intense pain still rested on her face, but her voice sounded under perfect control again.
"What have I said then? That I shall never make use of the freedom which your step gave me? That was certain from the first; without this the experience of my marriage protects me from any second one. I have my child, and in it the object and happiness of my life. I require no other love."
"You, certainly not," said Reinhold, with quivering lip, "and my doom is indifferent to you--you have always loved your child only, and never me. For his sake you could break through all the prejudices of your bringing up and become another woman; you could not do it for your husband."
"Did he then ever give me such love as I found in my child?" asked Ella, in a very low voice. "Let it be, Reinhold! You know who stands between us, and will ever stand."
"Beatrice? I will not accuse her, although she was more to blame for my departure then than you perhaps believe. Yet, I was always master of my will--why did I yield to the fascination? But if I have now recognised its deception, and tear myself away--"
"Will you forsake her, as you forsook me?" interrupted his wife, in reproachful condemnation. "Do you think that _that_ could reconcile us?
I have lost all belief in you, Reinhold, and it will not be restored to me, even if you sacrifice a second person now. I have no cause for sparing or considering this Biancona, but she loves you; she offered up all for you, and you yourself gave her an undisputed right of possession for years. If even you would now destroy the fetters you forged for yourself she would still part us for ever. It is too late; I _cannot_ trust you any more."
Immeasurable sadness rang in the last words, but at the same time unbending firmness. In the next moment Ella had left the room. Reinhold was alone.