Castle Hohenwald Part 23

Have a care, madame, that the bow is not too tensely bent; the string might break."

"I do not understand you."

"Then I must speak more clearly. You shall have your will and understand perfectly. Yours be the consequences of allowing me a glimpse into your heart,--of ruthlessly annihilating my fairest hopes.

You shall not escape unpunished from the intrigue which you have spun to drive me from Castle Hohenwald."

Werner's eyes flashed fire and his cheek was crimson as he spoke. His agitation Lucie could not understand, and it terrified her. She had never seen the calm, easy Finanzrath thus moved. "You speak in riddles, Herr Finanzrath," she said, looking frankly in his face. "I do not understand your anger. What do you mean by your threat, and by accusing me of intriguing to drive you from Castle Hohenwald?"

"Am I not yet sufficiently clear?" Werner continued, even more angrily.

"Do you still imagine you can deceive me? You are mistaken. I see through your game. You choose that I should speak it out plainly? Well, then, so be it! I am weary of the restraint that I have put upon myself for months I will no longer be your plaything! I have loved you pa.s.sionately since the day when I brought you to the castle; to win your love in return was my highest aim in life, my fondest hope----"

"I must not listen to you. I must leave you!" Lucie exclaimed, indignantly.

"You must listen; I will force you to hear me!" Werner declared.

"You are mad!"

"You have made me so. Thank yourself that my pa.s.sion a.s.serts itself, that I cast aside the fetters that have bound me for months. As long as I hoped to win your love I endured their restraint; now, since I see through your schemes, I will do so no longer. I suspected it all long since. I have often told myself that you were but playing with my love, but never until now did I know it surely. Do you think I have been blind,--that I have slumbered through these long weeks? No, jealousy has spurred me on to constant watchfulness; not a look exchanged between Arno and yourself has escaped me. I have been insane with jealousy when you were alone with him in the library, but I would not believe that you could prefer him to me, and so I deceived myself and you deceived me. You may well desire my absence. I could by a single word put a stop to all your loving dalliance. Arno is your informant; he would thrust from his path the brother in whom he suspects a rival, and he thinks to drive me away by the threat of an imaginary danger.

Fool! I see through his game."

Lucie listened in blank amazement to the accusations thus heaped upon her, which, in their suddenness and strangeness, bewildered her comprehension. Was this Werner, the polished, easy man of fas.h.i.+on, confronting her now with angry eyes and laying bare before her the inmost secrets of his soul? What should she reply to so disgraceful an attack? A contemptuous silence was all that it deserved. And she was silent, but this Werner regarded in the light of a confession; he thought she was trembling at his anger and unable to reply. He laughed scornfully, and continued, "Am I sufficiently clear now, madame? Now you know, I imagine, that you can no longer deceive me. You are right not to attempt it by any denial. One thing, however, you have forgotten, that I know your past, and that one word from me can put an end to your brief dream of love. My precious brother is an idealist who might indeed bestow his heart upon Celia's poor governess, the lovely Anna Muller, but who would turn with aversion and disgust from the runaway wife of Herr von Sorr! Hitherto I have kept your secret faithfully, but I might easily be tempted to forget to do so in future.

Herr von Sorr has not resigned his rights; he is still searching for you, and it is owing to my silence alone that he is not now here a.s.serting those rights in defiance of which you would vainly seek protection from Arno. Your safety here you owe only to the love which, spite of all the offence it has received at your hands, still glows within me, a consuming flame. Have a care that you do not convert it to hatred, Frau von Sorr. Continue to reject my devotion, to play with my jealousy, and you shall bitterly repent!"

Not a word could Lucie utter. Amazement, shame, and indignation overwhelmed her. Werner no longer awaited a reply; he left her not as was his wont with a low bow, but with head proudly erect, hurrying towards the castle, and not even looking back at her whom he had so insulted. He did not see the intense scorn and disgust expressed in her face as she gazed after him, nor hear the word "wretch!" that pa.s.sed her lips as she did so.

CHAPTER XIV.

For a few moments after leaving Lucie Werner's features wore a smile of triumph; he thought the proud beauty subdued and terrified by his threats; but when he reached his own apartment, and had time for reflection, he felt by no means so sure of his victory. As his excitement subsided he became greatly discontented with himself, and bitterly regretted having yielded to one of the outbursts of pa.s.sion which had cost him dear in his boyish years, but which he had lately learned to control. Pacing his room to and fro, he pondered upon the occurrences of the past hour. While in Lucie's presence, rage at the thought of his brother's successful rivalry had bewildered his understanding; he could not think clearly. Reason had returned, and he confessed to himself that he had played the part of a jealous fool. His brother was no intriguer, his ways were never those of a schemer. But whence, if not from Arno, could Fraulein Muller have received her information? She saw no one but the inmates of the castle, and she had lately received no letters, as no one knew better than Werner, who distributed the letters from the post-bag every morning. He grew very uncomfortable; Lucie had known of his acquaintance with Repuin, and she had now learned of what nature this acquaintance was; she still maintained a correspondence with influential people in Prussia, Adele von Guntram, President von Guntram's daughter, was her most intimate friend, and any information forwarded to them would soon reach the Chancellor's office.

The longer the Finanzrath reflected the more grave did the situation appear to him. Vague pictures of an examination of his papers, of an arrest, and possible trial for high treason presented themselves to his imagination. Finally, he seated himself at his writing-table, and thought he would write to inform Repuin of what he had heard. This, however, proved to be by no means an easy task; he could scarcely do it without implicating Lucie, and should he mention her relations with Adele von Guntram the Russian's suspicions would surely be aroused; he would make his appearance at the castle with Sorr, who would enforce his marital rights. Should this occur, Lucie would be restrained by no considerations from betraying him. At present she would feel obliged to have some regard for the man who knew her secret and held her fate in his hands. He tore up his letter to Repuin, and decided to attempt to avert in another way the danger that menaced him. Lucie was not implacable; she had no reason for bringing distress upon the Hohenwald family by betraying him; only a desire for revenge or to defend herself from attack could prompt her to do this; he would ask her pardon for expressions used in the heat of pa.s.sion, and would not allow his love for the beautiful woman or his jealousy to carry him so far again.

Soothed by these reflections, Werner began to look to the future with confidence.

What now? Lucie had asked herself, when left alone in the castle garden. To answer this question was not easy. Suppose that Werner, impelled by anger and jealousy, should discover her retreat to Count Repuin, would not her best course be to leave the castle immediately, and await in some secluded village the result of Adele's efforts to procure her another situation? The thought of the consequences of Werner's betrayal of her secret filled her with horror. What if Sorr, summoned by the Finanzrath, should appear at the castle and require her to return to him! She felt sure that the old Freiherr would grant her his protection, but what would it avail her against her husband! And Arno? Lucie's heart died within her as she thought of the pain that a knowledge of her secret would cause him. Nothing was left her but a hurried flight. But no, she would not leave Hohenwald; had she not promised Kurt and Celia to use her influence with the old Freiherr to induce him to forget the wretched feud with the Posenecks? Could she disappoint Celia's confidence in her by forsaking her at her need, in selfish care for her own safety? Would not Kurt in that case have a right to recall the promise he had given her? And what mischief might ensue! No, it was her sacred duty to watch over Celia; she would not leave the castle for some time yet. But she had written to Adele begging her to procure another situation for her as soon as possible.

The letter had gone; should she not write another and revoke her request?

In the midst of her uncertainty, Celia, who had seen from her window that Werner had returned to the castle, joined her again, eager to know the result of the interview with her eldest brother. "Well?" she asked.

"You were right, I ought not to have spoken to your brother," Anna replied; "he does not believe me. I cannot tell you more, Celia; it is enough that my appeal to him was quite in vain."

"I knew how it would be," the girl said, sadly; "I wish you had taken my advice, but it is not yet too late. Let me call Arno; he is in his room, I saw him go to it; he will be here in a few minutes. Indeed, dear Anna, Arno has the best heart in the world. He is not so amiable and agreeable as Werner, he cannot pay compliments, but you can rely upon him. I have often watched him when he thought no one was observing him, and I am quite sure that he likes you very much. He will believe you, and soon devise some way of s.h.i.+elding our dear old father from danger. Do speak with Arno, dearest Anna. Let me call him. May I?"

"Yes; I will await him here."

Celia's grat.i.tude was shown by a fervent kiss, and she flew towards the castle, returning in a few moments with Arno, whose hand she held in hers.

"Here he is!" she exclaimed as she approached Anna. "Only think, the miserable fellow refused to come at first. Scold him well, Anna dear; although he does look so grim, he is really dear and good. There, he is smiling; now you need not be afraid of him. Adieu!"

And she was gone, tossing a kiss to her friend as she vanished in the shrubbery.

The smile which her merry talk had called forth faded from Arno's grave face as he bowed formally to Lucie. "I await your commands, Fraulein Muller," he said. "You must forgive my momentary hesitation to follow my sister. I thought her jesting when she told me you wished to speak with me."

"Celia was not jesting, Herr Baron. I requested an interview with you, and I thank you for complying with my wishes."

A low bow was Arno's only reply.

Lucie had thought it would be easier to begin a conversation with Arno.

As he now walked beside her, grave and serious, without smoothing the way for the opening of their talk by a single word, she felt exceedingly uncomfortable. Her last words to him in the library had deeply offended him, as was evident from the formality of his manner.

She had determined to make no allusion to their previous interview; but how could she help it? And she longed to say one kind word to him.

"You are angry with me, Herr Baron," she began, and her fair face flushed slightly; she could not look up at him as she spoke,--her eyes sought the ground. "I regret deeply if what I was forced to say to you offended you. I did not mean that it should. It was my duty to tell you the perfect truth; if I did this too harshly, I pray you not to be angry with me. I told you to-day that your words would drive me from Castle Hohenwald; I was overhasty. After calm consideration, I have decided not to go away. I know that Baron Arno von Hohenwald is too proud and too n.o.ble to repeat words that could pain me; I know that although I was forced to offend him, he will still be my friend. May I not cherish this conviction, Herr Baron?"

As she spoke the last words Lucie looked up at Arno and held out her hand, but he did not take it. He replied, coldly and with a low bow, "You are very kind, Fraulein Muller. I am glad that you do me justice; I am, indeed, too proud ever again to intrude upon you after the harsh rejection I have experienced. I a.s.sure you that you shall never hear from me a word that could cause you to leave Hohenwald sooner than you would otherwise intend. May I hope that this a.s.surance is satisfactory to you, and that you will inform me to what I owe the honour of this interview?"

Lucie slowly let fall her hand; Arno's cold refusal to take it, and his measured politeness, convinced her that she had nothing to fear from him, and yet she was not glad that he was thus able to command his feelings; his cold words grieved her. But he must not suspect this; she forced her composure to equal his own as she explained to him that she had a duty to fulfil towards the Freiherr and himself in telling him of the warning sent to them from a perfectly trustworthy source. His brother's plots were discovered, Castle Hohenwald was under surveillance, and such suspicion rested upon his father and himself of sharing in the Finanzrath's schemes that they were threatened with arrest. "I trust you, Herr Baron," Lucie concluded, "to devise means for averting the threatened danger. I had hoped that the immediate departure of the Finanzrath would effect this, and therefore I first appealed to him, told him what I have told you, and begged him to leave the castle, but he would not believe in my information, refused to be guided by it, and thus forced me to turn to you, Herr Baron."

"Which you would not otherwise have done," Arno rejoined, bitterly.

"Nevertheless I am grateful to you for your warning; but you must excuse me for putting one question to you. You tell me that Werner refused to believe in your information. Did he tell you his reason for doubting it?"

Lucie hesitated to reply. She had not expected this question, and yet it was a very natural one. How could Arno expect to induce his brother to depart if he were not informed of the entire state of the case? He must know that the Finanzrath mistrusted him, and this Lucie could tell him only by letting him know of Werner's jealousy. It offended her sense of delicacy to inform Arno of this; but it was her duty to overcome her scruples and let him know what insane folly possessed Werner.

"You do not answer," Arno continued, after a short pause, "and yet my question is a very simple one."

"It shall be answered, Herr Baron. The Herr Finanzrath thinks that I have been induced by you to acquaint him with a fict.i.tious tale of danger, in hopes that terror may drive him from Castle Hohenwald."

"Indeed? The suspicion is like him!" Arno exclaimed, indignantly. "And why should I wish to drive him from the castle, and why should you lend yourself to second me by a falsehood? I do not perceive the connection here."

Lucie's cheeks were crimson; but, hard as it was to reply, she did it bravely. "The Herr Finanzrath explained this in a manner very insulting to me. He thinks that it is my desire as well as yours to banish him from Castle Hohenwald, that we may escape his observation. You will not require me to explain further the disgraceful suspicions aroused in his mind by an unfortunate pa.s.sion."

"Shameful!" Arno exclaimed. "I have long known of his pa.s.sion for you,--his cold, calculating nature is incapable of a genuine affection; his love is an insult to you. I did not believe that he would dare to offend you by such unworthy suspicions; he is more worthless than I thought him. I thank you from my heart for bestowing your confidence upon me; rest a.s.sured you shall not repent it."

For a few minutes they walked on in silence, Arno thinking of Werner's silly suspicion that he was the author of Anna's warning. Who was its author? The answer that instantly occurred to him to this question disturbed the satisfaction that Anna's frankness had afforded him. Her information could proceed from but one person, from him with whom he had so lately seen her in earnest conversation; from Kurt von Poseneck.

But a moment ago he had regarded with profound contempt Werner's groundless jealousy, and yet now he suddenly felt a like sensation with regard to the rival who had robbed him of Anna's love. Her warning lost all credibility in his eyes; he rebelled against receiving it from a man whom he hated, and felt inclined, as Werner had done, to believe that it had been given with some unworthy aim. He must have certainty upon this point.

All that was genial vanished from his manner as he turned to Lucie, and with the same icy courtesy that had characterized his first address to her, said, "I owe you a debt of grat.i.tude, Fraulein Muller, but let me pray you to complete your information. It is very important that I should know the source of your warning. Tell me frankly, do I owe it to Herr Kurt von Poseneck?"

"How did you know? What made you think of him?" Lucie asked, greatly surprised.

"Thank you, Fraulein Muller; I am answered. You do not deny, then, that Herr von Poseneck has commissioned you to communicate with me?"

"Why should I deny it? But I really cannot understand how----"

"How I arrived at the knowledge of your intimate relations with Herr von Poseneck? Chance revealed to me your secret. I saw you to-day in the forest engaged in confidential discourse with him. I now know why you refused me all hope in the future."

"Herr Baron!----"