What the Swallow Sang Part 23

"I beg the gentlemen to act their own pleasure."

They bowed to each other with distant civility. A few minutes after, the same light carriage that had brought the two gentlemen to Dollan a few hours before rolled over the rough road into the dark, gusty night.

Hinrich Scheel drove the horses.

CHAPTER XXI.

It was about ten o'clock, but, although the season was mid-summer and the moon must have already risen, dark as only a moonless night in autumn could be. And with autumnal chillness the wind blew over the rye stubble, and the rain, which had just begun to fall again with renewed violence, beat into their faces.

"b.u.t.ton your coat up," said Gotthold to his companion, who was swaying to and fro uncomfortably in his seat. "You seem very much heated."

"Because I have kept b.u.t.toned up all the evening," answered the a.s.sessor. "I mean it in a literal sense, on account of the ten thousand thalers I have had in my breast-pocket; figuratively I might have been somewhat more so; but for all that, I beg of you, my dear friend, give me some explanation of Brandow's mysterious conduct. He actually turned me out of doors! And why? I don't understand it. After we had been on the most cordial terms the whole evening; after we had been, so to speak, hand-and-glove. And everything settled! The whole large sum paid in cash, down to the last penny, which, to be sure, is the greatest mystery of all. And he is to have the money from Wollnow! Did Wollnow mystify me? And why? I no more see any light in all this than I can see my hand before my eyes. Horrible darkness!"

"The moon has been up an hour already," said Hinrich Scheel.

"And is that why you have no lamps on the carriage?"

"Herr von Pluggen had none either."

"You thought your pipe would give us light enough, didn't you?"

"I needn't smoke, sir."

"Then don't; I can't say that the odor of your canaster is very agreeable."

"Folks like us can't smoke nice tobacco, like fine gentlemen," said Hinrich Scheel, emptying his pipe so roughly that the sparks flew in all directions through the darkness, and thrusting it into his breast-pocket.

"Isn't this the same fellow who drove us here this afternoon?" asked the a.s.sessor in a low tone.

"The same," answered Gotthold; "and I should advise you to use the same precaution we adopted on the way here."

But the a.s.sessor was not in the mood to follow Gotthold's counsel. The intoxication, from which the scene with Brandow had only roused him for a short time, returned with redoubled power, now that he was exposed to the cold night air. He began to abuse Brandow, in whose favor he had always spoken at the convent, who but for him would have been obliged to leave Dollan a year ago, who was greatly indebted to him in every respect, and now repaid him with the basest ingrat.i.tude. But his friendship and protection were now at an end. He still had the fine fellow under his thumb. The lease must yet be renewed. To be sure, Brandow had paid this time, but what guarantee of future security was there to be had from a man who, in his precarious situation, loaded himself with a gambling debt of five thousand thalers? He need only give the monks this piece of information, and Brandow would be cast off. Did Brandow expect to satisfy the convent by the a.s.surance that he would win the race on Brownlock! Brownlock, nothing but Brownlock!

Brandow had not won yet, and they were strict in their rules at the race-course. Only last year, young Klebenitz--eldest son of a n.o.bleman though he was--had been excluded because it got noised abroad that he had been twenty-four hours late in paying a gambling debt. It was still very doubtful whether Redebas would have the five thousand thalers he had just won from Brandow lying on his desk by to-morrow noon.

Gotthold had tried in vain to interrupt his loquacious companion, and was therefore not at all displeased when the latter, after stammering a few incoherent words, suddenly relapsed into silence, and leaning back in his corner seemed to wish to sleep off his intoxication. Gotthold spread his own travelling-rug over his knees, turned up the collar of his overcoat, and gazing out into the darkness, resigned himself to his thoughts. Brandow's conduct was incomprehensible to him also. What could have induced him to insult the a.s.sessor in this way?--a man whose favor he had every reason to keep. Had he been drunk too? But if so, the fit of intoxication must have come upon him very suddenly, and had at all events a.s.sumed a singular form--the form of the hatred which veils itself under the garb of cold politeness. Or, had all this concerned him alone? Had he been so anxious to get his enemy out of the house that he had even suffered it to cost him the friendship of the influential man? That was a solution so simple and natural, so unlike the cold calculating man; but if it was not drunkenness, or hate that wishes to satisfy itself, what was it?

And suppose it were hate that desires to satisfy itself at any cost?

Suppose this hate was directed towards her, no less than him, nay perhaps even more. Suppose this terrible man wanted to clear the house of guests in order to give free course to his furious hate, to be able to riot in some fell vengeance.

Gotthold half started from his seat, groaning aloud, and then sank back again, reproaching himself for conjuring up such horrible apparitions.

That was certainly the most improbable of all. Whatever means he had used the night before to break down the pride of one of the proudest of women, he had conquered, he was master of the situation; he might be satisfied! And was he not? He now knew the secret of coining gold, cunning alchemist that he was; and how soon he might be again in a situation where he would be obliged to make use of his art, that very evening had proved. What becomes of the water you take in your hand?

What becomes of the money you give a gambler? Cousin Boslaf had been right.

But the more Gotthold endeavored to push aside the terrible thought as improbable, nay impossible, the more distinctly the scene appeared before his eyes. He saw him creep towards her chamber, cautiously open the door, glide into the room, up to the bed. Merciful Heaven! what was that? He had distinctly heard his name called in a piercing cry of mortal agony.

It was only a trick of his excited fancy, a horned owl perhaps, which, hurled along by the storm on noiseless wings, had swept close over his head, and in its surprise uttered the cry. This, or something of the sort.

Undoubtedly; but fancy continued the cruel sport none the less zealously, and converted the long-drawn howling and hollow roaring of the tempest over the moor, the rustling of the clumps of broom by the wayside, the creaking of the carriage, and the panting of the weary horses, into ghostly voices which muttered terrible words, voices and words such as might be uttered by the shapes which glided through the grayish black twilight over the ma.s.ses of rock on the moor on the right of the carriage, or flitted on the left through the impenetrable darkness that brooded coldly over the mora.s.s.

The road had been gradually ascending for some time, and according to Gotthold's belief, they had almost reached the crest of the hill, when the horses suddenly stopped, snorting violently.

"What's the matter?" asked Gotthold.

Hinrich Scheel's only reply was several violent lashes, which urged the horses onward again, but only a few paces, then they stopped once more, snorting still louder, and pressing backward so that the carriage moved a little down the hill.

"The d.a.m.ned jades!" cried Hinrich Scheel, who was no longer on his seat on the box, but standing on the right of the carriage.

"What is the matter, I say?" cried Gotthold, starting up.

"Nothing at all," shouted Hinrich. "Sit still. The d.a.m.ned jades! This little pull! I'll teach them to shirk. Sit still, we shall be up directly! d.a.m.n the whip!"

Hinrich, who had been lashing the horses frantically, now disappeared from the side of the carriage, the frightened animals made a few more bounds forward--suddenly the vehicle leaned towards the left--farther and farther; like a flash of lightning the thought pa.s.sed through Gotthold's mind, that if the carriage should upset here, it would undoubtedly fall sixty feet down the slope into the mora.s.s; he already had his hand on the back to swing himself out on the right, but would not save himself without his companion. But the latter did not rise, did not even stir. He seized him to drag him out of the carriage.

Too late! There was a dull roaring, rushing, rattling, as if the earth itself was opening to engulf carriage, horses, and men; a whizzing sound in their ears--a terrible shock, a falling, rolling, crashing,--another crashing, rolling, shattering, and then--the horror was over!

CHAPTER XXII.

In the large comfortable room adjoining the office, in the subdued light of a beautiful lamp--the companion to which was burning on a side-table at the end of the room--sat Frau Ottilie Wollnow and Alma Sellien; Ottilie engaged in sewing; while Alma leaned back in the sofa corner, with her slender hands resting idly in her lap. Before the ladies, on a high-backed chair drawn forward in the light, stood Gotthold's picture of Dollan, at which Alma from time to time threw one of her languishing glances. If the gentlemen came back that evening, she wanted to give Gotthold a pleasant surprise by showing him the interest she took in his work, and therefore the picture, which had just been taken down at her request, must remain in its present position.

"I am only afraid it may slip down and get injured," said Ottilie; "and besides, I am not at all sure they will come back this evening."

"I don't know what their return has to do with my enjoyment of art,"

answered Alma, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking at the picture with an evident increase of interest. "In what bold relief these beeches stand in the foreground! how easily the eye glides over the fields in the centre, and lingers there in refreshing repose, ere it turns with delight to the brown moor on the left, or wanders longingly towards the dim blue horizon bounded by the sea! He is really a great artist."

Ottilie laughed. "And do you mean to say all that to him?"

"Why not?" answered Alma. "I like to give every one his due."

"Especially when the 'every one' is a man so attractive as Gotthold."

"I have only seen and spoken to him five minutes this morning."

"And that has been enough to completely win the heart of such a subtle connoisseur. Confess, Alma, you are fascinated, and now see that our poor Cecilia must not be judged so very harshly, even if she really did have the misfortune to think such a man attractive."

"You know my views in regard to these things are very strict," replied Alma; "yes, very strict, though you do choose to open your eyes in astonishment. But to speak frankly, it is a matter of perfect indifference to me what your poor Cecilia thinks or doesn't think; only I would rather not despair of the good taste and good sense of the men, and that I certainly should do if such a man was so deluded as to think your poor Cecilia charming."

"Why, Alma!"

"Pray, my dear Ottilie, allow me to have and retain my own opinion on this point. Tell me instead--for it interests me, now that I have become personally acquainted with him--what you know of his former circ.u.mstances. Hugo declares he is almost a millionaire. Is he really so rich, and how did he get the property? Hugo says it is a very mysterious story--but he always says that when he can give no information about a thing. What is it?"

"Nothing at all," replied Ottilie; "I mean nothing at all mysterious; but the story is a sad one; I could not help crying when Emil related it to me a short time ago--he had never spoken of it before!"