The Undying Past Part 14

"I have kicked him out already," said Leo.

"So much the better," Ulrich remarked. "One of his worst feats was last Sat.u.r.day, when his chicanery drove away the Lithuanian reapers."

"I am quite at sea in that matter," Leo declared. "Unless a miracle happens, the fine harvest will go to the dogs."

"Not quite a miracle is required to save it," replied Ulrich, with his dear old smile, which always seemed to bring comfort and help. "A few days ago I applied to Captain von Quetner in Munsterberg. I begged aid from him. He believed he could meet the emergency, and to-morrow before sunrise twenty-five men, Uhlans, will be brought over here on my waggons."

A wave of gladness swept over Leo. From this moment things would look up. He seized Ulrich's hand in dumb grat.i.tude. But the latter bit his lips, and withdrew from him gently.

"I didn't come to tell you this," he said. "I could have written about that, but there are things to be discussed that cannot be committed to paper. I am sorry to say your prophecy has proved true. It must be all over between you and me. A woman has separated us. My marriage has demanded the sacrifice of our friendship."

Leo stared at him, unable to speak.

"Don't misunderstand me," Ulrich went on, struggling painfully with his words, "I needn't a.s.sure you that I love you to-day as much as I ever did. I fear that this separation may be my death-blow. Nevertheless, it must be."

"Because your--your wife desires it?" asked Leo, in growing bitterness.

"Don't call me weak, and abuse me for being a slave to a woman," Ulrich answered. "I have never in all my life been tied to ap.r.o.n-strings, and hope I never shall. But I am in the habit of listening to what my conscience dictates. And that insists on my doing my duty by the woman who bears my name and whose child I have made my own."

Leo was eager to know how she had taken the news, but was ashamed to try and glean the information from his friend by crooked questionings; however, as it proved, there was no need, for Ulrich on his own accord told him all he wanted to know.

"I did not think," he said, "that Felicitas, who lives and forgets so rapidly, would have been so deeply moved at your return. I must say that without taking credit to myself. G.o.d knows there is no reason why I should. I believed that she had completely got over her grief for the loss of Rhaden. She scarcely ever mentions his name, and even forgets the anniversary of his death. And for two years, I have, as tactfully as I could, endeavoured to impress on her your innocence in that unfortunate accident, ... for as an accident pure and simple I have always regarded the fatal duel. It seems that it has all been in vain.

The first thing that happened yesterday was that she went into hysterics. I was afraid she was going to be seriously ill. The whole night she sat on the boy's bed, murmuring over him. I got her away early this morning almost by force, for the poor boy, too, was deprived of his night's rest. You will believe me, dear Leo, when I say that all this makes me bound to admit that she has right on her side."

Leo was silent. If he had spoken it would have been hypocrisy, and he could not bring himself to that.

"When she had become calmer," Ulrich went on, "I told her of our conversation, and of the fears you had entertained about the continuance of our intercourse. I wanted to prove to her by that, how much you had considered the condition of her feelings. But the effect was quite contrary from what I had expected. Especially what you said about the child seemed to excite her to the last degree. Forgive me, dear old boy, if it was a blunder to repeat it. I hoped it would help both you and me. Why should I repeat to you all her expressions of resentment against you? It is unnecessary to tear open old wounds. You may believe me that I know how to distinguish between the hysterical exaggerations to which she gave vent in her grief, and the grief itself. But that is genuine enough, and when she says, 'How can I touch your hand, when I know that to-day it has lain in the hand which struck down my child's father?'--when she says that she is right, a thousand times right. I ought to have foreseen it all, before I linked her fate with mine. Now it is done, and, in your words, it has come to the decision. 'You must choose between me and her.'"

Still Leo was silent. The fatal image of the woman glided before his eyes. It seemed to melt into the gold of the evening clouds, and with the damp mist to fill the darkening world.

How came it that she had been able to rob him of what was dearest to him on earth? And, what was worse than anything else, she was justified. It was only strange that she, who, as a rule, was given to half-measures, and avoided anything like resolute action, had proved herself, in this, almost firmer than he was. But then, of course, she had no friend to lose....

"I thank you, old boy," Ulrich went on, "for not reproaching or laughing at me. Not that any contradiction on your part would have been of the least use. The facts are inexorable, and what we are doing is the only natural course to take."

"Yes," Leo a.s.sented, staring out of the window.

If Ulrich had only guessed what truth he was speaking!

"And now there is nothing more to say, except, as it were, to make my last bequests. When you want me, I shall come to you--at any hour of the day or night, in good or evil fortune. I shall expect the same from you, even though in ordinary circ.u.mstances we shall have no alternative but to pa.s.s each other by with a silent pressure of the hand."

"It must be as you decide," said Leo; and he felt a dull aching at his heart.

Ulrich sat rigid and upright, every muscle brought into obedience to the power of his will. His burning eyes rested unwaveringly on his friend's face, as if he would fain absorb him with his gaze. Not once did his voice tremble.

"Just one word more, old boy," he said, "before we part. I have to make an open confession to you concerning a certain matter, and to ask your pardon. You will find in your books the constant occurrence of a sum of money which you will not be able to explain. Interest--called in by--then follows my name."

Leo was all attention.

"The sum comes altogether to sixty-six thousand and a few hundred marks. You know you had no ready money. It fell to my share to save the sinking ship. So I gave what was necessary out of my own means to set it afloat again.... Forgive the deception, and don't thank me! No. I won't be thanked," he repeated, as Leo stood up and seemed as if he were going to rush and embrace him. "Anything I have is always at your service. That, of course, is an understood thing. And now good luck and good-bye."

He was making quickly for the door, but at the last moment he was seized with one of those attacks which Leo with dread had seen coming on for several minutes. He fell across the sofa, growing deadly pale.

His eyes were fixed, his pulse stood still, and he lost consciousness.

Leo had known these symptoms from earliest youth, and also knew the remedy. As he fell, he had caught Ulrich's head in his arms, and began ma.s.saging his scalp vigorously with his finger-tips. After a few seconds the eyes recovered their ordinary expression, a gentle flow of blood mounted to his temples, and he came to himself again.

"Thank you, dear old boy," he said, standing up with a sad smile. "Once more I have lived to experience your skill in casting out the little white mice."

And he seized his hat. Leo begged him to wait till he had quite recovered, but Ulrich refused.

"No loitering," he said; "it will only excite us again, and prolong the agony."

The carriage had driven round to the door. For a moment he let his thin, delicate hand rest tremblingly in Leo's hard palm, then he wrenched himself away.

"Remember me to your people," he said, covering himself with the carriage-rug.

The horses started, and the carriage rolled away with subdued crunching of wheels unto the purple evening dusk.

Leo, half blinded by his rising tears, staggered back unto his study.

"Be sensible ... no whining ... don't be an old woman," he cried, preaching courage to himself, for it was right that this should be.

Only thus could all be made straight again.

VIII

The feeling which events had left behind in Hertha's mind was one of dull disappointment. It seemed almost as if she had expended all her trouble on an unworthy object. So long he had existed for her as an exalted sinner, one of those melancholy, mysteriously-guilty, romantic beings, whom it is the delight of a true woman to rescue from h.e.l.l; and now he stood before her in the flesh--a muscular, laughing country squire, with bull-neck, broad shoulders, and a vocabulary that could only be described as vulgar, though, alas! it certainly had the knack of hitting the right nail on the head. Even his method of dealing with his staff of retainers was quite different from what she had pictured.

With the righteous wrath of an outraged deity, she had expected him to scourge the unfaithful servants out of his sight, to mete out to the miscreants their deserts, but to reward those who had been honest and vigilant by giving them an honourable post at his right hand. But now that her dreams had become reality, all was as prosaic as possible. He swore, and the servants slunk about like whipped hounds, and she had not been once consulted.

The hated Uncle Kutowski, too, for whom she would have thought the gallows too good, seemed to be taking his departure in far too easy and comfortable a fashion.

On the second day he appeared, just after breakfast, in freshly ironed linen, and buff _pique_ waistcoat, on which his watch-chain of boars'

tusks dangled aggressively, and explained to the ladies that he had come to take his leave of them, in order to enter on a larger sphere of work. In Poland, where formerly he had possessed land, there was a complication of affairs, which, to be put straight, required the firm hand and the knowledge of modern agricultural improvements of a confidential land-agent such as himself.

He set this forth with the utmost self-a.s.surance, and stroked his wavy, greenish-grey beard with true patriarchal dignity; but his little eyes glanced uneasily at the door from time to time, as if he were afraid that Leo might come in and cut off his brilliant retreat. Grandmamma was good-natured enough to accept the old reprobate's explanation without question. Elly gravely went on with her painting, and Hertha herself could do nothing but show her contempt by shrugging her shoulders, which apparently didn't hurt his feelings in the least.

Finally, he had the effrontery to ask the young ladies to give him their photographs, and to wish them handsome bridegrooms. This was a little too much for Hertha.

"I only give my photograph to people whom I have learnt to esteem,"

said she, drawing herself up, "and if I ever should marry, which I am uncertain about at present, I shall take care to choose a husband who has no a.s.sociates like yourself, Herr Kutowski."

Now he had got his due, and all grandmamma's tact could not alter it.

He bowed, and with a malicious smile remarked that he always knew that Miss Hertha could not endure him, but that was not here or there. Now the master had come home, she would find out fast enough what it was to be a stranger in the house, and what a true friend she had had in him.

Hertha, hard hit, cast down her eyes. But kind old grandmamma put her arm protectingly round her neck. Whereupon the old gentleman lighted a cigar, thrust a sandwich of b.u.t.tered rolls into his pocket, squeezed out a few farewell tears, and after Elly, with characteristic meekness, had submitted to having her forehead kissed by his atrocious lips, he retired in the _role_ of the chivalrous old worthy.