The Breaking of the Storm Volume Iii Part 13

"Has Friedrich not come back yet!"

"No, General."

August, who had his hand already upon the door, was just leaving the room.

"One moment!" said the General.

August obeyed with a face of much embarra.s.sment; the General had come close up to him, and there was in his countenance, not anger, as August a.s.sured himself by one nervous glance upwards, but something peculiar; while the deep tones of his voice did not sound peremptory but very strange, thought August.

"It is of great importance to me to know where my son is at this moment; Friedrich will perhaps not return immediately, and I am losing precious time. You do not know where Friedrich was to take the things?"

The faithful fellow trembled, and his broad, honest face quivered as if tears were not far off; it was only with an effort that he could answer: "Yes, General; Friedrich told me, and he has already two or three times had to take things there when the Lieutenant did not come home; she is called Fraulein Bertalda, and lives in ---- Street, and is, with all due respect, a person who----"

"Good!" said the General, "you need not send Friedrich to me now. It is possible that I may require to send you out. Be ready, therefore!"

"Breakfast will be ready. General----"

"I shall not breakfast to-day."

"Fraulein Sidonie was coming to speak to you, sir; can she come now?"

"I am very sorry--I am busy--you must tell Fraulein Sidonie."

The General turned back into the room. August, in his heartfelt anxiety, longed to say: "If only our young lady were here!" But he did not venture, and so slipped out.

"Part of it was true then," murmured the General, "so I suppose the rest will be also."

He went up to his writing-table, on which lay an open letter that he had received a quarter of an hour before from Herr von Wallbach.

Bending over it in vague bewilderment, supporting himself by one hand on the table, he almost mechanically perused it again, then raised himself with a long-drawn breath and pa.s.sed his hand over his bushy brows, as if trying to sweep away from his mind, like a bad dream, the fearful thing which he read there. Not merely what he read! between the lines there flitted to and fro terrible things which he himself had mentally inserted whilst he read, as in a bad dream the most dreadful part is not in the images which a terror-stricken imagination calls up, but in the expectation of horrors that are still to come. And yet! what more could come, when an alliance with the Werben family was declined as dishonourable! when satisfaction was denied to a Werben!

The latter point, as the most comprehensible, was that to which the unhappy man's wandering thoughts returned and clung most persistently.

A betrothal broken off was a thing that had happened before and might happen again; it was a trifle even, a mere nothing, if only honour were untouched by it, if only Ottomar could stake his life upon his unimpeachable honour. Might not Wallbach's cowardice--he had always thought the man a coward--be taking advantage of Ottomar's difficulties, which "had reached a height and a.s.sumed a character that made it dubious, at least, if Herr von Werben were still ent.i.tled to demand satisfaction as an officer and a gentleman, or even from the standpoint of ordinary honesty."

This must be cleared away! He had thought since that last affair, when in the autumn he had paid the bills which had come into his hands, that everything was settled, since no more bills had been presented to him--he had erred, grossly erred. Ottomar in his need had drawn more bills--he himself was the cause of Ottomar being in such need!--why had he at that time so sternly refused him any further a.s.sistance? Might he not have known that such embarra.s.sment cannot be at once ended? that when a man's true friends refused their a.s.sistance he would turn to false friends who would ruthlessly make profit out of his position, as had evidently been the case here? No matter, no matter! all should be forgiven and forgotten, if Ottomar would only confide in him again, would only allow him to put things straight for him again, as he had so often done. But could he do so? Counting all that he possessed, he could not make up more than about ten thousand thalers. That might not be enough; as much again might perhaps be wanted; it should be found then, it must be found--it must! Ottomar had evidently sent his man for his sash that he might make the necessary communication to his colonel of what had occurred. Herr von Bohl would of course require that the money difficulties should be settled before bringing the matter before a court of honour. He himself would then become surety to the fullest extent for Ottomar's debts; their old friend would for once--once more!

not look too closely into it; he would accept the surety and let the matter rest till all was settled. If only Ottomar would not now, at this very time, let himself be led into taking steps--that must be the meaning of the obscure part of Wallbach's letter; what else could the man mean?--steps which could only increase the difficulty of arranging the business. That an officer should put his name to a bill with the most exorbitant interest--that was, alas! for Ottomar no new thing! The fact that he had sent for plain clothes as well as for his sash appeared to point to some such intention. There was not a moment to lose! he had lost only too many in his first bewilderment! The General rang the bell. He was himself in plain clothes this morning, as he usually had been since his retirement; he would put on his uniform. It would take him a few minutes longer, but he always felt a little want of confidence without his uniform, and there must be no want of confidence to-day. As August still did not come after he had rung a second time, he was about to go to his bedroom, when there came a knock at the door, and on his irritable "Come in!" Captain von Schonau entered the room.

"I beg your pardon, General," said Schonau, "for coming in unannounced, but I did not find your servant outside, and my errand here will bear of no delay."

The perfect calmness and concentrated energy which generally marked the Captain's well-cut features had given place to an expression of the deepest anxiety and trouble.

"You come about Ottomar's affairs?" said the General, mastering his fears, and stretching out his hand to the Captain.

"Yes, General, and I beg and implore you to allow me to keep silence as to how I obtained my knowledge of the state of his affairs. But the state is this, that without any delay whatever, and before the matter comes to Herr von Bohl's knowledge, those bills of Ottomar's which are due to-day, and are in the hands of a banker here, whose address I know, must be paid. I know also the total of them. The sum is large, so large that so far as I know, General, neither you nor I alone could pay it; but together we might find it possible if, as I do not doubt, you will put at my disposal all that you can lay your hands upon, and will allow me to take the further management of the affair into my own hands and deal with it as if it were mine."

Schonau had spoken with decision, but in breathless haste, and the General could not doubt but that the Captain's thoughts had taken the same direction as his own. So long as Ottomar was left to himself, and attempted to save himself in his usual fashion, any delay could only increase the difficulties of his position, perhaps make it impossible for his friends, with the best will in the world, to help him. However painfully his pride was wounded by the conviction that he could not avert the threatening danger by his own efforts, he had made up his mind, even while Schonau was speaking, to accept the help so generously offered to him, supposing that he found it possible to repay the debt thus incurred. This he expressed in the fewest words, at the same time explaining the state of his finances and naming the sum which at the utmost could be raised upon the security of his interest in his house.

"Will that suffice!" he asked, "and for how much shall I be indebted to you?"

"It will suffice," said Schonau; "and I only ask now for a line to your banker, giving me full powers."

"You have not answered my last question," said the General, as with rapid pen he wrote the required words.

"I must beg you to excuse me from answering," replied Schonau; "be satisfied that the remainder does not surpa.s.s my means, and that it will be an honour and a pride to me to be able to serve you and your family."

The young man's steady clear voice faltered as he said the last words.

As the General continued writing, he remembered that amongst their friends Schonau's and Elsa's names had been often coupled together in jest, with the regret that it might not be done in earnest, as the two were far too good friends ever to fall in love with each other. He had shared this view, not without some regret. Could he have been mistaken?

Could Schonau--it would be no detraction from his generosity--be offering help less to the father of his friend than to the father of the girl he loved? In the excited state of his mind these thoughts had taken no more time than was required to carry his hand from the end of one line to the beginning of another; and moved by the sudden consideration, he stopped in his writing, and looked up at Schonau who stood by him.

A sad smile played round the Captain's firmly-closed lips.

"Do not stop, General," said he; "I desire and expect nothing, I a.s.sure you, but the continuation of your friendship and that of your belongings."

The General compressed his lips and went on writing. It was bitter--most bitter to him to have to take everything from the full hands of this generous friend, with no power of returning to him anything from his own empty ones--it was too bitter! A cloud came over his eyes; he was forced to break off.

"There is nothing but the signature wanting," urged Schonau, leaning over his shoulder.

"I cannot do it, Schonau!" said the General.

"I implore you," cried the Captain, "life and death hang upon it--oh!

my G.o.d!"

Startled by a sound at the door, he had turned and saw Colonel von Bohl enter the room.

"Too late!" muttered Schonau; and then, with a desperate effort to save what was already lost: "Your signature. General!"

But the General had turned round, and had seen the Colonel. Ottomar then had been to him already--had told him everything; the affair could go no further without consultation with his commanding officer.

The Colonel's usually severe military aspect had the stamp of a solemn gravity upon it now, as he said, after briefly apologising for his intrusion:

"Have the goodness, my dear Schonau, to leave us. I have a communication to make to the General which will admit of no delay, and which I must make without witnesses."

A word trembled upon Schonau's lips, but he restrained himself, and only bowed and said:

"Certainly, Colonel!" and then turning to the General: "May I ask permission to pay my respects meanwhile to Fraulein Sidonie!" then, after a little pause: "In case you should wish, however, to see me again, I think my visit will be a long one."

He bowed again and went. The General looked after him with fixed, terrified eyes. Evidently there was some understanding between Schonau and the Colonel, although they had not spoken to one another yet; evidently both knew something that Schonau had not said, and that the Colonel had now come to say. He shuddered as before when he had laid down Wallbach's letter; again there came upon him that agony of fear, only now it was no longer lingering at the threshold; now it had come close to him in the person of this iron soldier, in whom, though he had never formed any intimacy with him socially, he had always seen and honoured the pattern of a soldier after his own heart. The door was shut behind Schonau.

"I know all," cried the General; and said to himself, at the same moment, that he had spoken falsely.

The Colonel shook his head.

"You do not know all, General; Schonau could not tell you all, or rather, as I suspect from his manner, would not tell you all."

"Then I am prepared for anything," said the General in a hollow voice.

Again the Colonel shook his head.