The Alpine Fay Part 15

"Why should you not make it?"

"Because such an amount of freedom is not accorded to my s.e.x. We cannot wander about the world alone at will as you do."

"Alone!" Ernst repeated, in a low tone. "But you might trust yourself to a protector, a guide who would reveal this new world to you, whose delight it would be to unlock its pleasures for you. You may visit it some day with such a one beside you."

His last words were spoken so as to be audible to Erna alone. She looked up at him in surprise, and encountered a glance of such unmistakable pa.s.sion that she changed colour and involuntarily turned aside.

"It is very improbable," she said, coldly. "One must have a natural inclination for such a life, and I----"

"You are made for it," he eagerly interrupted her,--"you alone among hundreds of women. I am sure of it."

"Are you so wonderfully gifted with insight, Herr Waltenberg?" the girl asked, calmly. "We meet today for the second time,--surely your estimate of the character of a stranger is overbold."

The rebuff was evident; Waltenberg bit his lip. "You are right, Fraulein von Thurgau," he replied, "perfectly right. In this world of forms and unrealities one may easily be mistaken in an estimate of character. There is no intensity of feeling here, and an ardent word that rises involuntarily to the lips may well be accounted overbold.

All here must conform to times and rules. I beg pardon for my inadvertence."

He bowed and joined the other ladies. Erna felt relieved by his absence; she had received his evident attentions without attaching any importance to them, without a suspicion of her uncle's plans. It certainly was bold to address her thus in a second interview, but it was not offensive, and she--she liked what was bold and unusual, inconsistent with form and rule. Why did she so shrink from his half-concealed declaration? Why did a kind of terror possess her at the thought of ever being obliged to face the question at which he had hinted? She could not answer.

Frau von Lasberg now rose to go. In truth, the visit had been greatly prolonged, and all took leave. Farewells and courteous expressions of pleasure were interchanged, and Ernst Waltenberg took pains to show himself to the last the amiable, courteous host. But he hardly succeeded in controlling the mood which his conversation with Erna had induced. There was a degree of constraint in his manner of taking leave of his guests, and he was relieved by their departure. He stood looking gloomily after the carriages as they rolled away, and then turned back to the deserted rooms.

He was deeply wounded and vexed by the rebuff he had met with. It grated upon his impa.s.sioned nature like a breath from the icy north which he so detested; he retired to his beloved Orient, which here surrounded him with its lights and colour. But something of the chill seemed to linger here,--everything looked dreary and colourless,--it was, after all, but a lifeless image of the reality.

"Mister Gronau, what ails the master?" asked Said, who appeared after a while with Djelma in the balconied room to clear away the table. "He wants to be alone; he's in a very bad humour."

"Yes, very bad," Djelma added, quick to use the few German words he knew.

Veit Gronau had also observed the master's change of mood, but could find no explanation for it. However, in his reply to the servants he unconsciously hit the nail upon the head. He said, briefly, "It is all because he invited ladies. Wherever there are ladies there is always sure to be trouble."

"What, always?" asked Said, who seemed hardly to understand.

"Always!" Gronau declared, impressively. "No matter whether they are white or brown or black, they always make trouble. And so the only thing to do is to keep out of their way. Remember that, you scoundrels."

CHAPTER IX.

THE HERR PRESIDENT SPEAKS.

Summer had come; it was only early summer still however, in the mountains, for it was the middle of June; but the woods and meadows were clothed in fresh green, and only the loftiest peaks wore the mantle of snow which was never laid aside. Up there neither spring, summer, nor autumn had any existence: winter reigned in eternal, icy splendour.

The extensive Alpine valley which three years ago lay undisturbed in its solemn, dreary solitude, now showed all the traces of the human intellect which was then just invading it with its host of obedient forces. Dark openings yawned in the walls of rock, and from the depths a narrow path wound upward in serpentine lines,--the iron road to which forest and rock had been forced to yield,--while across the Wolkenstein chasm the masterpiece of the whole gigantic undertaking, the bridge, now wellnigh completed, seemed to hover in air above the dizzy depths.

It had been no easy task to build this railway, and the Wolkenstein domain had presented the greatest obstacles to its completion. They seemed actually to spring out of the ground at every step; the most careful calculations continually turned out to be imperfect, well-devised schemes proved ineffectual, unforeseen catastrophes occurred, and more than once imperilled the success of the undertaking.

But the man who conducted the road through the Wolkenstein section was equal to every difficulty, was daunted by no obstacle, discouraged by no catastrophe. He proceeded on his way with his myrmidons, step by step subjecting to his sway the rugged and hitherto unquelled nature of the Alpine fastnesses.

The railway company was well aware of the force it possessed in its superintending engineer, and now extolled the wisdom of its president in the choice it had at first opposed. Gradually a power to act almost without limits was placed in the hands of the young man, and he knew well how to keep and to use it. The engineer-in-chief had long given nothing save his name to the undertaking; every project, every decision, was the work of his energetic and talented chief of staff, and when the young man was betrothed to Nordheim's daughter and became the probable heir to millions, all opposition was mute,--everything bowed before him.

Every trace of Wolkenstein Court had vanished; it was levelled to the ground the year in which its master closed his eyes forever. There was no longer any need to regard the feelings of the eccentric old man whose heart had been broken by the invasion of his home. On the spot where the ancestral abode of the Thurgaus had once stood there was now a stately structure, the future railway-station, built just at the entrance of the huge bridge. Until the line of railway should be opened in the coming spring, the building was occupied by various offices, and Superintendent Elmhorst had his rooms in the upper story. It formed, so to speak, the head-quarters of the Wolkenstein section, and the centre of gravitation of the entire railway.

Wolfgang had established himself here after the manner which had become a necessity to him since his salary had been increased. The bright, s.p.a.cious apartments had a most comfortable aspect, the pleasantest being his office, with its dark hangings and rugs, its carved oaken furniture, and its well-filled bookshelves. The corner window before which the writing-table was placed commanded the entire view of the great bridge. The bold structure was always before the eyes of its architect.

Elmhorst sat at his writing-table talking with Benno Reinsfeld, who had just appeared. The young physician was unchanged in person and manner, except that he had become rather more unconventional and awkward. Long years pa.s.sed in a retired mountain-village, the laborious nature of the practice of a country doctor, and constant intercourse with men for whom the forms of society did not exist, had produced their effect.

At present, indeed, the Herr Doctor was in full dress; he wore a black coat, which saw the light only on state occasions; unfortunately, its cut was that of ten years previous. He certainly did not show in it to advantage, it pinched him too much; his gray jacket and felt hat were infinitely more comfortable. There was no denying that Reinsfeld looked a good deal like a peasant, and he was probably conscious of it himself, for he was enduring with a very meek air the reproaches of his friend, who shook his head as he looked at him.

"Do you want me to present you to the ladies in that coat?" he said, irritably. "Why did you not put on your dress-coat, at least?"

"I have no dress-coat," Benno said, by way of excuse. "There is no use for one here, and it would have been a needless expense; but I have had my old hat ironed out, and I bought myself a pair of gloves in Heilborn."

He produced from his pocket as he spoke a huge pair of gloves, intensely yellow of hue, and displayed them with much self-satisfaction to his friend, who looked at them in dismay.

"But, good heavens, you are not going to wear those monsters!" he cried. "They are a great deal too big for you."

"But they are quite new, and such a fine yellow," Benno rejoined, disappointed, for he had reckoned upon some expression of approval of his unwonted outlay in the interest of his toilet, having made up his mind to such expense only after due consideration.

"You will cut a pretty figure at the Nordheims'," said Elmhorst, shrugging his shoulders. "There is positively nothing to be done with you."

"Wolf, must I pay this visit?" the doctor asked, in a tone of piteous entreaty.

"Yes, Benno, you must. I want you to treat Alice while she is here, for her wretched health makes me very anxious. She has had all sorts of physicians in town and at Heilborn, but each one's diagnosis is different from all the rest, and not one of them has done her any good.

You know how highly I rate your medical skill, and you will not refuse to do me this favour."

"Certainly not, if you desire it; but you know my reasons for wis.h.i.+ng to avoid any personal intercourse with the president."

"What! that old difference with your father? After all these years, who remembers it? Hitherto, in accordance with your wishes, I have not mentioned your name, but now when I ask your help for my betrothed I am forced to introduce you. Besides, you will not meet my future father-in-law, for he was going back to town this morning. Confess, Benno, your true reason is that you are so used to practising among your peasants that you would if you could avoid intercourse with ladies."

Perhaps he was right in this conjecture, for Reinsfeld did not contradict him, he only sighed profoundly.

"You will absolutely degenerate in the life you lead," Wolfgang went on, impatiently. "Here you have been planted for five years in this wretched little mountain-nest with a practice which makes the most tremendous demands upon you, and brings you but the poorest remuneration, and here you will perhaps stay all your life, only because you have not the courage to grasp anything else that offers.

How can you endure such an existence?"

"My home certainly does present an aspect unlike that of your rooms,"

said Benno, good-humouredly, as he looked around him. "But you always had the tastes of a millionaire, and years ago you determined to be one, and you understand how to grasp fortune boldly; no one can deny that."

Elmhorst frowned, and replied, in an irritated tone, "What! you too?

Must I always be a.s.sailed by these hints as to Nordheim's wealth, as if my importance were entirely due to my betrothal? Am I nothing of myself any longer?"

Reinsfeld looked at him in surprise: "What do you mean, Wolf? You know that I enjoy your good fortune with all my heart, but you are strangely sensitive whenever I allude to it, although you certainly have every reason to be proud, for if ever a man achieved a speedy and brilliant success, you are that man."

Upon Wolfgang's writing-table stood a photograph of Alice in a richly-carved frame. It was a likeness, but a very unflattering one; there was little justice done to the delicacy of her features, and the eyes were entirely without expression. That slender, overdressed girl produced the impression of one of those nervous, superficial creatures who are so frequently to be met with in the fas.h.i.+onable world. This seemed to be Dr. Reinsfeld's opinion; he looked at his friend and then at the picture, remarking, drily, "Your attainment of your goal, however, has not made you happy."

Wolfgang turned upon him: "Why not? What do you mean?"

"Come, come, do not be angry again. I cannot help it, you are much changed from the Wolfgang of a few months ago. I hear of your betrothal, and expect you to return to me beaming with the triumphant consciousness of the realization of all your plans, instead of which you are now always grave, not to say out of humour, and irritable to a degree,--you who used to be so even-tempered. What is the matter with you, Wolf? tell me."

"Nothing. Let me alone," was the rather peevish reply; but Benno went up to him and laid his hand upon his shoulder: