"Do you take me to be so cowardly, that I tremble for hours over a danger surmounted?" asked Cecilia softly. "I am only tired from the difficulties of the walk and my feet pain me; I must rest for a quarter of an hour."
She let herself down under a tall fir-tree, the moss-covered roots of which offered a natural resting-place. She was indeed exhausted and over-fatigued, it was easy to see, but her companion had not a word of commiseration to spare her. He seemed to have but one wish, and that was to give up his office as guide as quickly as possible.
The mountain-meadow, with its sunny green, shone bright in contrast with the dark forests. Behind it loomed up the Whitestone, while in front an extensive view of the mountains was afforded. The landscape had nothing of the bright smiling beauty of the south, nor the overpowering grandeur of the Alps, but there rested upon it a peculiar charm, dreamy and melancholy as its legendary world.
Deep down lay the valleys, wrapt in bluish shadows, while the heights round about were flooded by bright sunshine, and over the valleys and hills spread an infinite expanse of green forest, out of which, only here and there, a bare wall of rock emerged, or a brook plunged wildly downward, splashing and foaming as it went. Mysteriously, as though from a far distance, came the soughing of the wind through the trees, swelling ever stronger and stronger, and then sinking again, dying away like a long-drawn sigh.
And yet other sounds were borne upon the breeze from the depths below.
It was a Sunday morning and the churches of all the little villages scattered through the woods were calling to the service of G.o.d.
Everywhere bells were ringing, one here sounded clear and full, another there low and sweet, mingling, as it died away, with the rustling of the trees.
Cecilia had taken off her hat and leaned against the trunk of the tree.
Egbert stood a few steps apart, but his eyes hung upon her, as though riveted there by some wizard"s spell. It availed nothing for him to forcibly resist; again they returned to feast themselves upon her captivating beauty, that graceful form clad in a simple white woolen gown, or that shining hair, which to-day was only lightly brushed back, and, held by a silver pin, fell loose on her neck. Her appearance was quite different from what Egbert had ever seen it before--so much lovelier--so much more dangerous!
For minutes had the silence lasted, when Cecilia looked up and asked in a low voice:
"And you are not going to scold me at all?"
"I? Why should I?"
"Why, you have good right to be angry with me, since, through my folly, your life, too, was exposed to imminent peril. I missed, by a hair"s-breadth, dragging you down with me into that abyss--I am ashamed of myself."
This was uttered pleadingly, almost timidly--the tone was a strange one from that mouth. A dark flush appeared upon Egbert"s brow, but his voice was as cold and distant as ever.
"You were not aware of the danger, but will not be so rash again."
"Will you not accept of my apology, but treat it as you did my thanks?"
asked Cecilia reproachfully. "You have saved my life at the risk of your own--but at this moment you actually look as if you bitterly repent of it."
"I?" exclaimed Egbert vehemently.
"Yes, you! You stand there with an air that seems to say, you must defend yourself against an enemy in deadly fray. Against whom, pray?
Only I am here!"
Again there was that roaring and rushing in the woods. It drew on above the hills like the waving of invisible giant-wings, and fuller and stronger sounded the church-bells from below. The whole air was instinct with sound, it seemed to soar on the sunbeams, and to swim and to shape themselves into a marvelous song, that at first sounded only in single detached chords, and then gradually changed to a melody that seemed mysterious but infinitely sweet, and both to shout and to lament.
True, those two up yonder, on that solitary, sunlit mountain-meadow, belonged to two different worlds,--it is true that a deep chasm parted them in all their thoughts and feelings. But the vain, spoiled child of fashionable society, who hitherto had only lived in a whirl of gayety, in an eternal chase after pleasure, to whom, heretofore, solitude had been synonymous with unbearable _ennui_--she now listened to that sweet, strange dream, like one lost in reverie. And the man, too, to whom hard work had never allowed time for meditation and dreams, in vain resisted the magical influence. He was wont to stand firm on the soil of reality, in the broad daylight, and to look into life with cool and penetrating vision--into a life full of toil and strife, full of hard, irreconcilable contrasts. He was made for this. What to him were the fantastic dreams of the world of the imagination? And yet now they held him fast within their toils, and through the midst of it all, with captivating sweetness, echoed a human voice:
"Against whom are you defending yourself? Only I am here."
Egbert drew his hand across his forehead, as though he would arouse himself forcibly from this dreamy state.
"I beg your pardon, Baroness Wildenrod," said he. "I was thinking of unpleasantnesses that I had had with my men at Radefeld. One like me, who has his work forever on his mind, is but poor company, as you see."
"Have I asked to be entertained by you?" asked Cecilia, with slight reproof in her accent. "Eric is right, you are as hard as your native rocks, rugged and inaccessible as the Whitestone itself. If one believes, that at last the magical word has been found, if the deep opens for one brief instant, the very next it closes, and a sealed surface of cold stone confronts the seeker."
Runeck made no reply. He had not idly dreaded this interview: he knew that he had betrayed himself in that moment of deadly peril and agony untold!
And his adversary, who had now learned to know her power, was inexorable and wanted to enjoy her triumph at any price. It had cost her trouble enough to impose her chains upon this brave, proud man,--chains which all others were so glad and willing to wear; now he was conquered, and she wanted to see him, too, at her feet.
"Eric bitterly laments that he sees so little of you now," she began again. "If you come to Odensburg--and you _must_ come sometimes--you confine yourself exclusively to his father"s work-room and decline every invitation to join the family circle. Your engagements at Radefeld furnish you with the pretext for this mode of procedure, but I know better what keeps you away.--It is my presence and my brother"s."
"Mein Fraulein----"
"Do not attempt to deny it. From the very first minute, I have been conscious of the mute hostility that you bear to us, and have often enough asked myself why--I have never found an answer to my question."
"Then ask Herr von Wildenrod, he will give you that answer."
The tone of his voice should have warned Cecilia, it sounded hollow and threatening, but she paid no heed to it.
"Something happened to make you dislike one another that time you first met, did it not? I have suspected it! But since then years have elapsed. Oscar has long forgotten the affair, as you have heard from himself. Will you alone be so implacable? And may I not know what happened then--will you not tell me, too?"
Her voice sounded yet softer and sweeter than before; her large, dark eyes were lifted imploringly to the man, who clearly felt how the net was being drawn closer and closer about him, how will and power were succ.u.mbing to the flattering sounds of that voice, as clearly he also suspected that the beautiful soulless creature there by his side was only playing a contemptible game with him and feeling nothing but the triumph of vanity. Then he rallied his forces with a last desperate resolve to burst his chains.
"Do you speak as commissioned by Herr von Wildenrod, Baroness?" he asked, with such terrible bitterness, that the young lady started and looked at him in surprise.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, that for the Baron much depends upon his learning what I really know, and his sister may well seem to him the tool well fitted for the purpose."
Cecilia rose to her feet, shocked and excited. Although these words were perfectly unintelligible to her, so much she did understand, that the matter involved here was something very different from the expected conquest. This was not the language of a man upon whose lips hovered a declaration of love. Something like hatred and contempt flashed upon her from his eyes.
"I do not understand you, Herr Runeck," said she, with rising warmth, "but I have a feeling that you insult me and my brother. Now, I _will_ know, what happened that time between you two, and you are to tell it me!"
"Should that really be necessary?" asked he, cuttingly. "Herr von Wildenrod will have sufficiently instructed you. Well, then, tell him I know more of his past, than might be pleasant to him!"
Cecilia turned pale; her eyes, too, flashed threateningly, the same lurid light burning in them as in the glance of her brother when he was provoked.
"What does that mean?" cried she, trembling from excitement. "To whom do your words refer? Beware, lest Oscar call you to account!"
Her warning came too late, producing not the slightest effect upon Egbert, whose nervous system had been subjected to great strain, through the silent, torturing conflict, which he had been waging for months. He was intensely excited. Had he been the calm and collected man of earlier days, he would not have spoken, at least not at this hour and this place; he would have spared in Cecilia, the woman. But now there fermented within him only that wild desire after revenge upon her who had stolen his soul from him, who, syren-like, had chained to herself all his thoughts and feelings, and whom he believed that he hated, wanted to hate, because he despised her. If he should now inflict a deadly insult upon her, if he should open a gulf between them that no bridge could span--no word nor look cross--that would bring deliverance, break the spell, then an end would be put to it!
"Baron von Wildenrod is to call me to account, is he?" cried he, with bitter scorn. "The thing might shape itself differently. I have hitherto been silent, had to be silent, for my own conviction, however firm it might stand, would go for nothing against Eric"s pa.s.sion and his father"s sense of justice. They will demand proofs, and I have them not at present. But I shall know how to find them, and then my forbearance ceases."
"Are you out of your senses?" interposed Cecilia, but he continued with increasing vehemence.
"Eric may possibly bleed to death from the wound that I must inflict upon him, but this is a blow that must strike him sooner or later.
Better that it should happen now, when there is still room for retreat, when he is not yet chained to a woman who will risk his love and happiness as awhile ago she did her own life, making sport of them as she has. .h.i.therto done of all who came near to her. You are your brother"s sister, Baroness Wildenrod, and have doubtless been taught by him how cards are shuffled. He and you already feel yourselves to be the owners of Odensburg; do not triumph too soon! You do not yet bear the name of Dernburg, and ere it comes to that, I shall stake everything upon guarding that name and Odensburg from becoming the prey of two--adventurers!"
The horrible word was out, and Cecilia shrank as though she had been struck. Pale as a ghost, incapable of speech, she stared at the man, whom she had fancied to be enthralled by her charms, and who now suddenly stood unmasked as a pitiless foe. She did not perceive the fierce pain, almost amounting to delirium, that raged in his soul and carried him away beyond all the bounds of discretion, knew not that every one of those words, that he hurled so crushingly at her, bit himself with tenfold force; she only felt the deadly insult that he had inflicted upon her. Not until he ceased to speak, did she recover from that paralyzing shock.
"Ah, that is too much--too much! You heap up one slander, one insult upon the other. I do not know at what your insinuations point, but I do know that they are all lies, shameful lies, that you will have to render an account for!"
Here was such a glowing outburst of indignation, such stormy revolt against unmerited contumely, that it removed any doubt as to the truth of her words. Egbert, too, seemed to feel this, for in his dark, threatening eyes flashed something like a gleam of hope.
With an impulsive movement, he drew one step nearer.
"You do not understand me? Actually not? You are not your brother"s confidante? Answer me!"