I no longer hesitated; but took the precaution to lock my door on the outside, lest he should follow me, and surprise Francis before I had warned her. Having reached her room I knocked gently, and she answered "Come in." It was the first time I had penetrated so far, and I began in a serious tone--
"Something very singular has happened, my dear cousin----"
"It is not an accident you come to announce to me, I hope?" she exclaimed.
"No, but a visit which will not prove agreeable, I am afraid."
"A visit at this time of the day! Who is it?"
"A person who says he is a relation of the family, and refuses to give any name but that of Rudolf."
She knit her eyebrows.
"Good heavens! Unfortunate man! Here again!"
I explained to her how he had forced his way in at the window, and offered to make him retrace his steps if she desired it.
"No, there must be no disturbance," she said, in a state of agitation. "My grandfather must not even suspect he is here. I will go with you, Leopold; this once you must excuse me if I do anything you consider in bad form. How dare he show his face here? I can do nothing more for him. You will stand by me, won"t you?"
I took her hand and led her to my room. Rudolf lay on the sofa, fast asleep. When he saw Francis standing before him, he jumped up as if to embrace her, but she drew back. He did not seem hurt, but he lost his tone of a.s.surance.
"I understand, Francis, that my return is not a joyful surprise to you."
"You have broken your promise. You gave me your word of honour you would stay in America. At any rate, you ought never to have set foot in your native country again----"
"Don"t judge me without having heard----"
"Is it not tempting fortune to come back here to the Werve, where you may so easily be recognized?"
"Oh, don"t make yourself uneasy on that score, my dear. I have taken precautions; and as for breaking my promise, I beg your pardon on my bended knees."
And he made a gesture as if he would fall on his knees before her.
"Don"t be theatrical," she said severely, and again retreated some steps from him.
"Heaven forbid! On the boards, to gain a livelihood, it is another thing; but in your presence, before you, Francis, whom I honour and love, I wish to justify my conduct. You may condemn me afterwards, if you like. It was really my intention never to appear before your eyes again. Alas! man is but the puppet of fortune, and I have not been able to swim against the stream. I have had all sorts of adventures--but can I tell you all now?" he added, looking significantly at me. "To tell you the truth, I had reckoned on our being alone."
"Stay, Leopold," she said, in answer to an inquiring look I gave her.
"Francis," resumed Rudolf, with tears in his eyes, "you know you need no protector where I am."
"I know that, but I will not again expose myself to calumny for your sake. As for your security, Rudolf, I can answer for my cousin Van Zonshoven"s discretion. You may tell him who you are without fear."
"It is a question of life and death," he said in French, with a most indifferent shrug of the shoulders, and he again stretched himself at full length on the sofa. "The least indiscretion, and my life will be forfeited. What of that? I run the risk of breaking my neck every day."
And then, turning towards me, he began to sing, or rather to try to sing, with a voice quite hoa.r.s.e, and with a theatrical pose, the following lines out of the opera "The Bride of Lammermoor"--
"Sache donc qu"en ce domaine D"ou me cha.s.se encor ta haine, En seigneur j"ai commande.
At least," he put in, "during the absence of the Baron, for I was heir-presumptive--a presumption which, alas! is destined never to be changed into cert.i.tude----"
Francis, visibly affected by his jesting style, interrupted him, and said to me--
"Rudolf von Zwenken, my grandfather"s only son."
"It would cost my charming niece too great an effort to say "My uncle." It is my own fault. I have never been able to inspire people with the necessary respect for me. Well, now, Cousin van Zonshoven, you know who I am, but there is one point I must rectify: Rudolf von Zwenken no longer exists--he is civilly dead."
"And morally," murmured Francis.
"And if he were to rise again under that name," he continued, without heeding Francis"s interruption, "he would commit something like suicide, for he would be arrested and shot."
"And knowing that, after all that has been done to put you beyond danger, you show yourself in this place again! It is inexplicable,"
cried Francis.
"But, my dear, who told you I had come to show myself here? It is true we give representations in the provinces; but the person who appears in public is Mr. Smithson, so well begrimed that Baron von Zwenken himself would not recognize his own son."
"That"s very fortunate, for it would be the death of him," retorted Francis, harshly.
"How you exaggerate, dearest. Monsieur mon pere never had so much affection for me. He shall never know Mr. Smithson. His son Rudolf, however, seeks an interview with him, and requests you, Francis, to a.s.sist in bringing it about."
"It is useless, sir; you may neither see nor speak to your father again."
"Can you be so hard-hearted, Francis?"
"My duty obliges me, and I must have some regard for the feelings of your father in the first place."
"But, my dear child, try to understand me. I only wish to kiss his hand and beg his pardon. With this object I have run all risks, and imposed on myself all kinds of fatigue. I have just ridden hard for three hours, hidden myself in the old ruins, climbed the garden wall at the risk of breaking an arm or a leg; then, seeing a light here, I broke in--and all this for nothing! No, my darling, this cannot be; you will still be my good angel, and arrange the meeting I so much desire----"
"I say No; and you know when I have once said a thing I mean it."
CHAPTER XXVII.
Rudolf, after a pause, began once more--
"You have a good heart, Francis. Ah! I know your reasons. You think I am returned again like the prodigal son, with an empty purse, "after eating of the husks which the swine did eat." It is just the contrary."
"Don"t be profane, Rudolf," said Francis, severely.
"But it is true--I bring money with me, over two hundred dollars in clean greenbacks, as a commencement of rest.i.tution, an earnest of my reform. What do you think my father would say if he found them to-morrow morning on his pillow? Don"t you think he would receive me with open arms?"