"Pardon me, Francis, I should consider myself the greatest of cowards to strike a woman; but it was no question of a woman just now. We were speaking of Major Frank--Major Frank who is angry when reminded of the privileges of the fair s.e.x, because he will not be cla.s.sed amongst "the ladies," and who, in my opinion, ought not to be surprised when, after his own fashion, one tells him the truth roundly, and without mincing matters."
Francis listened this time without interrupting me. She was staring at the panes of the window, as if to put herself in countenance again; her paleness disappeared, and, turning round, she said, without anger, but with firmness--
"I confess, Leopold, it is not easy to contradict you; and now I think we are quits. Are we again good friends?"
"There"s nothing I desire more ardently; but, once for all, with whom? with Major Frank or----"
"Well, then, Francis Mordaunt asks for your friendship."
She offered me both her hands, and her eyes filled with tears she could no longer keep back. How gladly I would have kissed them away, and pressed her to my heart and told her all! But I could not compromise my commencing victory.
"Should I have spoken to you in this way, Francis, if I had not been your sincere friend?"
"I see it now, and I have need of a sincere friend. Well then, the Captain is ruining himself for our sakes; and grandfather, in a most cowardly fashion, lends himself to such doings. Is it not horrible?"
"It is very wrong, I admit."
"Now, suppose the General were to die--I should be left shut up in this place for life with the Captain. When he has rendered himself poor for our sakes, I cannot send him away. Now do you understand I had reasons for being angry this morning?"
"That you had reasons, I don"t dispute; but the form----"
"Come, come, always the form!"
"I don"t say the form is the main thing, but a woman who gives way to such fits of violence puts herself in the wrong, even though she have right on her side. Just think for a moment what a scene if the Captain had retaliated in the same coa.r.s.e language of the barracks, which he has probably not forgotten."
"I should like to see him try it on with me!"
"However, he had a perfect right to do so. I agree you are right in principle; but let me beseech you to change your manner of proceeding. The gentleness of a woman is always more persuasive than the transports of pa.s.sion. You have told me your early education was neglected; but you have read Schiller?"
"Die Rauber," she replied, tauntingly.
"But not his "Macht des Weibes," nor this line--
"Was die Stille nicht wirkt, wirket die Rauschende nie!""
She shook her head in the negative.
"This part of your education has been much neglected."
"I will not deny it."
"But it is not yet too late. Will you listen to my advice?"
"Not now; I have already stayed too long here, and--and--you stay at the Castle----"
"As long as you will keep me, Francis."
"Well, stay as long as you can--that is, if you can fall in with our ways. I am going out for a ride; I need fresh air and movement."
"Apropos the service you came to ask of me--the strap?"
"Oh, I shall pluck a switch. The Captain came to offer me a whip, and----"
"And you would rather accept it at my hands," I said, laughing.
"No; but I should like to borrow ten guilders of you for a couple of days."
I handed over my purse, and told her to take out of it as much as she required. What a strange creature! What a comic conclusion to our battle!
I also felt as if a little fresh air would do me good, and so I walked off to the village post-office with my letter to Overberg.
CHAPTER XXI.
Downstairs I met the General ready for a walk, and he offered to accompany me. He had also a letter for the post, which was a secret to be kept from Francis; and he expected to find a packet awaiting him, which could not be entrusted to a servant. The packet was there amongst the letters marked poste restante; but when he had opened it with precipitation, a cloud of disappointment covered his face, and he heaved a heavy sigh.
"Don"t say anything to Francis about the packet," he said to me, as we walked back from the post. "Such business I must manage unknown to her; she does not understand these things, and she would not agree with me; and with her temper--at my age I have great need of quiet--that you comprehend. The Captain is entirely indebted to me for his rank, and it is but natural he should pay me some little attention. Yet you heard how my granddaughter took the matter up this morning. Instead of being content with me for retiring to this wilderness of a place, which I did to please her, she does nothing to render my life supportable."
"And yet the Werve is beautifully situated, uncle."
"I agree with you there; but when one must give up all field sports, this becomes a very isolated place. The village offers not the slightest resource, and the town is too far away."
"Why don"t you sell the Castle, uncle?"
"Ah, my dear boy, for that I must have money, much money; and that I have been in want of all my life. There are so many mortgages on the Castle that n.o.body would give the sum necessary to pay them. Besides, the person who bought it would like to possess the neighbouring estates. My sister-in-law, who possessed the Runenberg estates bordering on my property, wished to buy it, but I refused her; family hatred would not suffer me to make room for her. Thank heaven, she"s gone. She inst.i.tuted proceedings against me about a strip of land of no real value to either of us; and the lawsuit cost me thousands of guilders. She won, as a matter of course, and then laid claim to a small bridge which connected the land in question with my grounds. Again I lost my money and my case; and now I must make a long round to reach places quite near, because the use of the bridge is forbidden me. Oh, that woman has been the curse of my life!"
"But to come back to the question. Overberg has commissioned me to say that the heir to the Runenberg is likely to make you an advantageous offer for the Werve."
"It could be done privately--as in the case of the farms? Overberg arranged that for me--and there are reasons for avoiding a public sale," cried the old man, brightening up with a ray of hope.
"Yes, Overberg said as much; the only question was whether you could be induced to sell it."
"For myself, yes, with all my heart. But Francis--there"s the rub! She has an affection for this old rats" nest, for the family traditions, and for heaven know"s what; nay, even for the t.i.tle which its possession carries with it. G.o.d bless the mark! She has got it into her head that at some future day she will be Baroness de Werve; and it is an illusion of hers to restore this old barrack. But her only chance of doing it is to make a rich marriage. Formerly she had chances enough amongst the rich bachelors, but she treated them all slightingly; and now we see n.o.body in this lonely place."
"But you do not need her permission to sell the Castle?"
"Legally I do not require it; but there would be no living with her if I sold it without her consent. Besides, she has a right to be consulted. When she came of age I had to inform her that her mother"s fortune was nearly all spent. It was not my fault. Sir John Mordaunt kept up a large establishment, and lived in English style, without English money to support it; for he was only a second son, and his captain"s pay was not large. A little before his death he lost an uncle, to whose property and t.i.tle Francis would have succeeded if she had been a boy. Shortly after this event my son-in-law died of apoplexy, and I was left guardian to Francis. My evil fate pursued me still, and being in want of a large sum of money to clear off a debt, which would disgrace the family if not paid at once, Francis generously offered me her whole fortune. I accepted it, as there was no alternative, but only as a loan; and promised to leave the Werve to her at my death."
"But Francis is your only grandchild--or stay, I have heard you had a son, General; has he children?"
"My son is--dead," Von Zwenken answered, with a strange kind of hesitancy in his voice. "He was never married so far as I know--at least, he never asked my consent to a marriage; and if he has left children I should not acknowledge them to be legitimate. In short, you now understand why I cannot sell the Castle without Francis"