The Sign Of Flame Part 19

Hartmut did not join in the conversation with his usual vivacity, and when he again drew out the gla.s.s from his pocket, at the Prince's request, he suddenly missed his letter-case.

The watchman offered at once to look for it, but Rojanow declared he would do it himself. He remembered exactly the place where something had slipped to the floor when he came up the stairs, which he had not noticed at the time. It was the letter-case, no doubt, and he would find it with little trouble and return. Saying which, he bowed and departed.

Under other circ.u.mstances Egon would doubtless have thought it strange that his friend should refuse the offer of the old man and take upon himself the trouble of searching the dark stairway, but he was at present so totally occupied with his office of explanatory exhibitor that he did not seem to regret being left alone.

Frau von Wallmoden had accepted the gla.s.s which he offered her and followed with apparent attention his explanations as he pointed out all the various heights and villages.

"And over yonder, behind those hills, lies Rodeck," he concluded; "the little hunting lodge where we live like two hermits, cut off from all the world, having only the company of monkeys and parrots, which we brought from the Orient, and which have already become quite melancholy."

"You do not look at all like a hermit, Your Highness," said the young Baroness, with a fleeting smile.

"In truth, I have not much taste for it; but at times Hartmut has perfect attacks of the ailment, and then I bury myself in solitude for weeks for his pleasure."

"Hartmut! That is a thoroughly German name, and it is also surprising that Herr Rojanow speaks German with such fluency and without even a foreign intonation. Yet he introduced himself to me as a foreigner."

"Certainly. He comes from Roumania, but was raised by relatives in Germany, from whom also he may have inherited the German name," said the Prince, simply.

It was plainly to be seen that he knew nothing further of the origin of his friend. "I became acquainted with him at Paris, when I was about to begin my trip to the East, and he decided to accompany me. It was my good star of fortune that brought him to me."

"You seem infatuated with your friend."

There was something like disapprobation in the tone.

"Yes, Your Excellency, I am indeed," affirmed Egon, warmly; "and not I alone. Hartmut is one of those genial natures who conquers and wins people by storm wherever he appears. You should see and hear him when he is heart and soul enthusiastic. Then his soul flames like fire into yours. He envelops everything with his warmth; one has to follow where his flight leads."

The enthusiastic eulogy found a very cool listener. The young lady seemed to bend all her attention upon the landscape, as she replied: "You may be correct. Herr Rojanow's eyes betray something of it, but such fiery natures make upon me an impression more uncanny than sympathetic."

"Perhaps because they bear the demoniac lines which are peculiar to genius. Hartmut has them. He startles me sometimes, and yet the dark depths of his nature draw me irresistibly to him. I have actually forgotten how to live without him and shall try everything to retain him in our country."

"In Germany? You will hardly succeed in that, Your Highness. Herr Rojanow has a poor opinion of our fatherland. He betrayed that to me the day before yesterday in rather an offensive way."

The Prince became attentive. The words at once explained the cold reserve, which was not usually Hartmut's manner toward a beautiful woman, and which had surprised him at the first moment. But he smiled.

"Ah, that was the reason why he did not speak of the encounter. Your Excellency has probably shown him your displeasure. It serves him right. Why does he prevaricate with such persistency? He has irritated me often enough with this a.s.sumed depreciation, which I accepted then in good faith; but I know better now."

"You do not believe in it?" Adelaide suddenly turned from the view to the speaker.

"No, I have the proof of it in my hands. He is infatuated with our German land. You look at me incredulously, Your Excellency. May I impart a secret to you?"

"Well?"

"I was looking for Hartmut this morning in his room, but did not find him, I found, instead, a poem upon his desk, which he had probably forgotten to lock up, for it was surely not intended for my eyes. I stole it, without any compunction of conscience, and carry the spoils still with me. Will you permit me to read it?"

"I do not understand the Roumanian language," said Frau von Wallmoden, with cool satire. "Herr Rojanow has scarcely condescended to compose a poem in German."

Instead of answering, Egon drew out the paper and opened it. "You are prejudiced against my friend; I see it. But I do not like you to regard him in the wrong light in which he has placed himself. May I justify him with his own words?"

"If you please."

The words sounded indifferent, and yet Adelaide's gaze was riveted with a strange expectancy upon the paper, which seemed to contain only a few hastily written stanzas. Egon read.

They were German verses, indeed; but of a perfection and harmony which could belong only to a master of the language. The pictures they conjured up before the listener were strangely familiar. Deep, dreamy forest solitude, touched by the first breath of approaching autumn; endless green depths which beckoned and charmed irresistibly with their twilight shadows; aromatic meadows flooded with sunlight; small, still waters, which gleamed in the distance, and the foaming forest brook roaring down from the heights.

And this picture had taken on life and language. That which whispered in it was the old, old song of the forest itself; its murmuring and rustling--its mysterious working gathered into words which enchanted the ear of the listener like melody, while through it all floated and moaned a deep, unspeakable longing for this forest peace.

The Prince read warmly at first, then with great enthusiasm. Now he dropped the sheet and asked triumphantly:

"Well?"

The young Baroness had listened spellbound. She did not look at the reader, but stared motionless into the blue distance. At the question she started slightly and hastily turned.

"What did you say, Your Highness?"

"Is this the language of a depredator of our fatherland? I believe not," said Egon in most decided tones, but greatly as he was engrossed with his friend's poetry, he could still notice how exceptionally beautiful Frau von Wallmoden looked at this moment.

Of course, it must have been the setting sun which lent the rosy coloring to her face and the brilliancy to her eyes, for her bearing was as cold as her answer.

"It is really surprising that a foreigner should command the German language so perfectly."

Egon looked at her in amazement. Was this all? He had expected a different impression. "And what do you think of the poem itself?" he asked.

"Quite excellent. Herr Rojanow seems indeed to possess much poetic talent. But here is your gla.s.s, Your Highness. I thank you. I must be thinking of the descent now, as I do not wish to keep my husband waiting too long."

Egon folded up the paper slowly and deposited it in his breast pocket.

He felt the icy breath now surround again the beautiful woman, which chilled him to the heart.

"I already have the honor of an acquaintance with His Excellency," he said. "May I renew it today?"

A slight bow gave the permission to accompany her. They left the platform, but the Prince had grown somewhat monosyllabic. He felt offended for his friend, and now regretted having given this poetry, the beauty of which carried him away, to a lady who had no understanding of, nor appreciation whatever for, poetry.

CHAPTER XVII.

Hartmut descended the stairs slowly after his leave-taking, the lost letter-case resting safely in its usual place. It had served its purpose as a pretext to free its possessor a little while.

Adelaide von Wallmoden had casually mentioned having come with her husband, who remained down at the inn because he disliked the troublesome climbing of the steep stairs.

Hartmut could not therefore evade a meeting with him, but it should at least take place without witnesses. If Wallmoden should recognize the son of his friend, whom he had known only as a boy, he might not be able to master his surprise.

Hartmut did not fear this meeting, even if it were inconvenient and uncomfortable to him. There was but one face in the whole world he feared--only one face to which he would not dare lift his eyes--and that face was far away; probably he would never see it again. Every one else he met with the proud defiance of a man who had only done right in withdrawing from a hated vocation.

He was decided upon not permitting any expression of reproach, but, if he should be recognized, to request the Amba.s.sador in the most decided manner to consider certain old connections, with which he had so totally broken, as no longer existing. With this conclusion he emerged into the open air.

Herbert Wallmoden sat with his sister upon the little veranda of the inn. The Chief Forester had been too much occupied with the approaching arrival of the court, the hunting expeditions of which he had to arrange, to accompany the party. The betrothed couple had also remained at home; but the day for the little trip could not have been more pleasant.