The wife started. The firmness she had just shown could not continue when she saw her husband"s handwriting on the envelope; only his handwriting, while with mortal agony she had clung to the hope that he would come himself, if it had merely been to say farewell. With trembling hand she took the letter and opened it; it contained only a few lines--
"You witnessed the scene between your father and myself, and will therefore comprehend that I do not enter his house again. That scene has changed nothing in my decision. It only hastens my departure, as the want of tact on your parents" part has given the affair a publicity which does not make it appear desirable for me to remain an hour longer in H---- than is absolutely necessary. I cannot bid you and the child good-bye personally, as I shall not set foot again across a threshold from which I was driven in such a manner. It is not my fault if a separation, which I was resolved to obtain for a time, now becomes a lengthened one that is brought about by a violent quarrel. It was you who made the condition, that I should either remain or go for ever.
Well, then, I go! Perhaps it will be better for us both. Farewell!"
CHAPTER VII.
The Captain must have known what the letter contained, as he stood close by Ella"s side, apparently ready to support her, as in the theatre; but this time she betrayed no weakness. She looked silently down at the icy words of farewell with which her husband freed himself from wife and child. With what haste had he seized the excuse which her father"s harshness and her own words offered him; with what relief had he shaken off the irksome bonds! This blow did not fall unexpectedly now. Since that last interview she knew her fate.
"He is gone already?" asked she, without raising her eyes from the letter, which she still held in her hand.
"An hour ago."
"And with her?"
Hugo was silent; he could not say "No" to this question. Ella rose, apparently calm, but she leaned heavily on the boy"s bed.
"I knew it. And now--leave me alone, I implore you!"
The Captain hesitated. "I came, also, to bid you adieu," replied he.
"My departure was decided without this, and now, in my brother"s absence, nothing keeps me. I shall make no attempt to remove my uncle"s absurd prejudice against me, but I should like to take a word of farewell from you, Ella, away with me. Will you refuse it me?"
The young woman raised her eyes slowly; they met his, and as if following an involuntary impulse, held out both hands to him--
"I thank you, Hugo, farewell!"
With a quick movement he caught her hands in his--
"I have ever only been able to bring you pain," he said softly. "By me came the first news which utterly destroyed your peace; it came too late, and to-day it was again my hand which brought you the last. But if I pained you, Ella, must pain you--my G.o.d, it has not been easy for me."
His lips rested for a moment on her hand, then he let it fall, and left the room quickly; a few moments later he was in the open air.
It was a raw, regular northern spring evening. The rain fell steadily; mist hung heavily and densely in the streets; even the lamp light only shone dimly red in the grey atmosphere. The rolling train bore Reinhold Almbach away in this fog to the south, where fame and love, where his future beckoned brightly to him; and in the same hour his young wife lay at home on her knees by her child"s cradle, pressing her head in the pillow to smother the cry of despair, which now, that she knew herself to be alone, broke forth at last. He had not come once to say adieu; he had not one kind last word for her; not one farewell kiss for his child. They were both forsaken, given up--probably forgotten already.
The blazing glory of the sunset seemed to bathe heaven and earth in a sea of fire, and illumination. All the wonderful colouring of the south lighted up the western horizon, and the flood of light poured itself far away over the town, with its cupolas, towers, and palaces. It was an incomparable panorama stretching around the villa, which lay outside the town on a slight elevation visible from afar, with its terrace and colonnades, surrounded by the lower lying gardens, in which the most luxuriant southern vegetation displayed itself. There sombre cypresses raised their gloomy heads; pines waved in the gentle evening wind; white marble statues peeped forth through laurel and myrtle bushes; the waters from the fountains rippled and fell on the carpet of turf; and thousands of flowers sent forth their intoxicating sweet perfume--everywhere beauty and art, scent and flowers, light and dazzling colours.
A numerous party was a.s.sembled on the terrace and in the adjoining parts of the park, preferring the enjoyment of this beautiful evening, and the wonderful view outside, to remaining in the rooms. It seemed princ.i.p.ally to consist of the aristocracy, yet many a figure might be seen there which undoubtedly betrayed the artist, and here and there appeared the dark habit of a priest near the light toilettes of the ladies or brilliant uniforms. The most different elements seemed to be united here. They walked, chatted, and sat or stood together in unconstrained groups.
In one of these groups, which had gathered at the foot of a terrace close to the great fountain, the conversation was conducted with unusual vivacity; it must be about some subject of general interest.
The few words and names mentioned appeared to rouse the attention of one of the guests, and he, coming from the terrace, pa.s.sed close by the group. He was clearly a stranger, as was denoted by his light brown hair, eyes, and indeed his whole face, which, although tanned by sun and air, still did not show the dark colouring of the southerner. The uniform of a captain set off his strong manly figure very advantageously, and in his bearing and movements was a happy combination of the free, somewhat easy manner of a sailor with the forms of good society. He stopped near the gentlemen who were talking so eagerly, and listened to their conversation with evident interest.
"This new opera is, and will be the chief event of the season," said an officer in the uniform of the carbineers, "and therefore I do not understand how it can be so easily postponed. The performance is already arranged, the rehearsals have begun, all preparations are nearly finished, when suddenly everything is interrupted, and the whole performance postponed until the autumn, and all this without any apparent reason."
"The reason lies alone in the sovereign pleasure of Signor Rinaldo,"
replied another gentleman, in a somewhat ill-natured tone. "He is accustomed to treat the opera and public according to his humour and fancy."
"I am afraid you are mistaken, Signor Gianelli," interrupted a young man of distinguished appearance, somewhat excitedly. "If Rinaldo himself demanded the postponement, there is sure to be some cause for it."
"Excuse me, Marchese, it is not so," replied the former. "I, as conductor of the grand opera, know best what endless trouble, and what immense sacrifice of time and money it has cost to meet Rinaldo"s wishes. He brought the whole theatrical world into confusion with his conditions and requirements, as he demanded changes in the company such as had never been made before, and everything in the same way. As usual, all was acceded to, and all expected at last to be sure of his approval; but now, on arriving from M----, he finds nothing but what is far beneath his antic.i.p.ations, he orders alterations and dictates improvements in the most inconsiderate manner. In vain was it attempted to dissuade him, through Signora Biancona; he threatened to withdraw the entire opera, and--" here the maestro shrugged his shoulders satirically, "his Excellency the Director would not take the responsibility of such a misfortune upon his shoulders. He promised everything, conceded everything, and as it was quite impossible to carry out the so peremptorily demanded additions in such a short time, even although ordered by the sovereign Signor Rinaldo, the performance was obliged to be postponed until the next season."
"The Director in this case was quite right to give way to the wish, or, if you like it, whim of the composer," said the young Marchese decidedly. "The company would never have forgiven it if bad management had robbed them of one of Rinaldo"s operas. It is known that he would be capable of carrying out his threat, and really withdrawing his work, and with such an alternative before him, nothing remained but to give way unconditionally."
"Certainly; my objection only concerns this species of terrorism which a strange composer allows himself here, in the heart of Italy, inasmuch as he compelled the inhabitants to content themselves with his essentially German ideas of music."
"Especially when these same inhabitants have twice made a _fiasco_ of an opera, while every new creation of Rinaldo"s is greeted with tempestuous applause by the audience," whispered the Marchese to his neighbour.
The latter, an Englishman, looked much bored. He only understood Italian imperfectly, and the rapid, vivacious conversation was therefore greatly lost to him. Nevertheless he answered the Marchese"s low spoken and contemptuous remark with a solemn nod, and then looked attentively at the maestro, as if the latter had become an object of curiosity for him.
"We are speaking of Rinaldo"s new opera," said the officer, turning and explaining politely to the stranger, who so far had remained a silent listener, and now replied in foreign sounding, but yet fluent Italian--"I just heard the name. No doubt some musical celebrity."
The gentlemen looked in speechless astonishment at the inquirer; only the maestro"s face betrayed unmistakable satisfaction that there was at least one person in the world who did not know this name.
"Some celebrity!" repeated Marchese Tortoni. "Excuse me Signor Capitano, but you must have been a long time at sea, and perhaps come from another hemisphere?"
"Direct from the South Sea Islands!" said the Captain with a pleasant smile, notwithstanding the ironical tone of the question, "and as there, unfortunately, they are not so well acquainted with the artistic productions of the present times as might be desired in the interests of civilisation, I beg to receive a.s.sistance in my deplorable ignorance."
"We are speaking about the greatest and most charming of our present composers," said the Marchese. "He is certainly by birth a German, but since some years has belonged to us exclusively. He lives and works only on Italian ground, and we are proud to be permitted to call him ours. It will be easy for you to make his personal acquaintance this evening. He is sure to appear!"
"With Signora Biancona--of course!" interrupted the officer, "have you had an opportunity already of hearing our beautiful _prima donna_?"
The Captain made a gesture of denial. "I only arrived a few days since; however, I saw her some years previously in my home, where she gained her first laurels."
"Ah, she was a rising star then," cried the others. "To be sure she laid the foundation of her fame in the north. She returned to us as a known actress. But now she stands undoubtedly at the height of her power. You must hear her, and hear her in one of Rinaldo"s operas, when you can admire her in all her glory."
"To be sure, as then one fire ignites the other," added the young Marchese. "At any rate you will find in the Signora of to-day a brilliantly beautiful apparition. Do not delay an introduction and interview with her."
"Provided it be agreeable to Signor Rinaldo," said the maestro, joining in again. "Otherwise you may attempt to approach her in vain."
"Has Rinaldo power to decide such points?" asked the Captain lightly.
"Well, at least he takes the right to do so. He is so used to being master and ruler everywhere that he tries it here also, and, alas, not without result. I do not understand Biancona. An actress of her importance, a woman of her beauty, to allow herself to be so completely ruled by a man."
"But he is Rinaldo," laughed the officer, "and that is saying enough.
Let us confess it, Tortoni, we can none of us compete with his successes. All hearts fly towards him, wherever he appears; so at last it is no wonder if even a Biancona bows willingly before the magic which this man seems to bear about him."
"Hum, it is not done quite so willingly," said Gianelli, grimly.
"Signora is pa.s.sionate in the highest degree, but Rinaldo, if possible, even surpa.s.ses her. Between them it is quite as often storm as sunshine, and furious scenes are the order of the day."
"This Rinaldo appears to govern all society as well as his audiences,"
said the Captain, now turning exclusively to the conductor. "Do people submit to such a thing from one single man, and he a stranger?"
"Because all are blind, and will be to every other merit," cried the maestro with suppressed violence. "When society once raises an idol to a throne, it carries on its adoration until it becomes ridiculous.
They regularly worship Rinaldo, so it is no wonder if his pride and self-appreciation become boundless, and he thinks he can trample on all with impunity who do not pay him homage."