The Northern Light Part 48

"Now I understand your interest and sympathy," he responded. "Colonel Falkenried is to be pitied indeed."

"Why he?" inquired Adelheid, struck by the hard tone. "And how about your friend?"

"I have no friend. I have lost him," cried Egon with a pa.s.sionate burst.

"What he told me two days ago made a break between us, but what I have since heard has parted us forever."

"You judge a seventeen year old boy--he could not have been much older--very severely."

There was deep reproof in Adelheid's voice as she spoke, but the prince shook his head pa.s.sionately.

"I'm not speaking of his flight, or his broken word, though they were both bad enough, considering he was an officer's son, but what I learned yesterday--I see, my dear madam, you do not know the worst. How should you? I should not have spoken."

"I beg your highness," began Adelheid again, "to tell me the truth. You say that Rojanow has come back to enter the army. I am not surprised. I expected it, for it was the only thing left for him to do to expiate his old fault. Does he march beneath our colors yet?"

"So far he has not been able to gain admission, and I have been saved a fearful responsibility," said Egon, with intense bitterness. "He endeavored to get into several regiments but was refused every time."

"Refused? And why?"

"Because he dared not acknowledge himself a German, and all strangers, especially Roumanians, are regarded with suspicion, and with justice, too. We can't be too cautious now, for fear of spies!"

"For G.o.d's sake, what do you mean by that?" exclaimed Adelheid, who began to see toward what Egon was drifting. He sprang up now in great excitement and came over to her side.

"If you wish to know, then listen to me. Hartmut came to me and desired me to use my influence to get him into one of our regiments. I refused at first, but he finally forced me to promise to do my utmost with a threat which I now think he had no intention of carrying into execution.

I kept my word, and went at once to a general officer whose brother had but recently returned from Paris where he was secretary of our legation.

This gentleman was present at the time of my visit, and as soon as he heard the name of Rojanow, asked many questions and then told us--I cannot speak of it--I have loved Hartmut more than any one else in the world, have almost adored him, his talents, his genius, and now I learn that this friend, who was all in all to me, is but a miserable, low wretch. He and his mother served as spies--spies, think of it--in Paris. Perhaps he would do the same in our army, and that was his object in striving to be admitted."

He laid his hand over his eyes if to keep out the horrible picture.

There was something inexpressibly sad in the young man's face and manner as he told how his idol had been shattered. Adelheid rose, and supporting herself against a chair, spoke in an eager, excited, trembling tone.

"And what did he say when you accused him?"

"Rojanow, do you mean? I haven't seen him again and do not intend to. It is better to spare both him and me. He is at the Rodeck forestry awaiting an answer from me. I sent him three lines telling him what I had learned, without one word of comment. He has the letter by this time, I suppose, and that will be sufficient explanation."

"G.o.d help him!"

"You speak sympathetically," said the prince, sneering.

"Yes, for this is not the first time I have heard this terrible accusation. His father threw it into his face during their interview."

"Well, when his own father acknowledged the disgrace, surely--"

"He is a sadly injured, deeply embittered man, and could have no unbiased judgment; but you, Hartmut's friend, who stood so near him, should s.h.i.+eld him from such an imputation!"

Egon looked with astonishment at the excited woman.

"That evidently seems an easy matter to you," he said slowly. "I could not do it. There was too much to condemn in Hartmut's life; he told me much himself that had seemed mysterious before, and I can find no excuse, no extenuating circ.u.mstances for his actions. Even his denunciation of--"

"Of his mother! She was the sword which hung over his head. It was she who destroyed her son! But he knew nothing of the shameful depths to which she had sunk; he lived with her but she concealed her life from him. I saw it, I knew it when his father hurled the dreadful accusation at him; he was as one struck by lightning. There was truth in the man's despairing cry. Whatever his youthful misdemeanors, his punishment in that hour balanced them all. His flight, his broken promise, have robbed him of a father, and of his dearest friend; but though they turn against him I will believe in him. Yes, to the death! Their charge is untrue, he is an innocent man."

Adelheid was in a state of intense excitement now, her cheeks were aflame, her voice and manner had that intense pa.s.sion which love alone can give. Egon stood and looked at her. There it was, the awaking to love and life, of which he had so often dreamed; the sea of ice had melted forever, but for another.

"I will not venture to decide whether you are right or not, my dear madame," he said, in a spiritless voice, after a second's pause. "I only know one thing. Whether Hartmut be guilty or innocent, he is to be envied in this hour!"

Adelheid drew back with a start. She understood the significance of his words, and her head sank before his pained, sorrowful glance.

"I came to say good-bye," continued Egon, "and to ask one question, one favor--but it is fruitless to ask it now. I have only farewell to say to you."

Adelheid raised her eyes, in which the hot tears were standing, and held out her hand to him.

"Good-bye," she said. "Good-bye. May Heaven protect you!"

The prince shook his head, and said with bitterness:

"What does it matter? I had thought to return--do not look at me so pleadingly. I have made a great mistake. I see it now, and I will not annoy you with my moaning, but Adelheid, I would willingly fall if I could but inspire for a moment the feeling and pa.s.sion which you reserve for another. G.o.d bless you! Good bye!"

He pressed her hand and was gone.

A dreary afternoon. The wind had risen since the morning hours, and whistled ominously through the tall forest trees; the clouds grew darker and heavier, and the damp air was growing rawer and colder every moment.

The suns.h.i.+ne of yesterday was forgotten in the gloom of to-day. The fresh green leaves, torn by the rising storm from the tall, waving branches, fell in a swirl at the feet of the tall, dark man, who, with folded arms, leaned against an old tree, utterly oblivious to the tempest which was gathering about him.

Hartmut's face was deadly pale, and on it there lay a strange, unearthly quiet; the fiery light was gone from those speaking eyes, and his hair lay wet and heavy upon his forehead. The storm had whirled his hat from his head, but he did not notice it, neither did he know that a heavy shower had drenched him to the skin. After wandering about in the woods for hours, he had at last found this spot--a fitting place to accomplish his purpose.

He had waited with feverish expectancy the message from Egon, and it had come. No letter, only three lines with the signature, "Egon, Prince Adelsberg," but these three lines, for him who received them, meant--the end of all things. Thrust out forever and despised! The friend his heart held dear asking neither for confirmation nor denial, but condemning him unheard.

The crash of a mighty branch which had been broken in the whirlwind, aroused Hartmut from his brooding. He was not alarmed, and turned his head slowly to look where the heavy branch had fallen. Only a few feet from him--why had it not struck him and ended his misery in a moment?

How welcome was the thought of death. Such fatalities follow only those who love life. He who seeks death must accomplish it with his own hands.

He took his gun from his shoulder and set the stock firmly in the ground and felt over his breast for the right place. He looked up at the veiled heavens, then down at the little lake with the deceptive, marshy meadow-lands beyond, with the old gray mist hovering over it as usual.

He seemed to see again the will-o'-the-wisp darting in and out, that spirit of the marsh at which he had often gazed in the long ago over his mother's shoulder, and while listening to her seductive words. He gave no second look to the sky, no sign was in the heavens to-day to lead him up to higher planes. One shot through the heart and all would be over.

He moved his hand to touch the trigger, when he heard a voice call his name. It was a quick, desperate cry, and a figure tall and slender, enveloped in a dark storm cloak, rushed before him. The gun fell from his hands as he looked up to see Adelheid's face, white and despairing, looking into his own.

Several minutes went by before either of them spoke. It was Hartmut who broke the silence finally.

"You here, my dear madame?" he asked, forcing himself to speak quietly.

"Why are you abroad in such unseemly weather?"

Adelheid looked at the weapon which had fallen at her feet and shuddered.

"I might ask you the same question," she answered.

"I started out for a hunt, but this is no day for sport. I was just emptying my gun, when you--"

He did not finish, for her pained, reproving glance told him that all subterfuge was useless--he broke off and gazed gloomily before him.

Adelheid too, abandoned any attempt at an ordinary conversation. Her voice was trembling and her face white as death, as she said: "Herr von Falkenried--G.o.d help us, what would you have done?"

"That which would have been finished now, had you not interfered," said Hartmut, in a hard tone. "Believe me, dear madame, it would have been better if accident had brought you here five minutes later."