The Sign of Flame.
by E. Werner.
CHAPTER I.
Through the gray fog of an autumn morning a flock of birds took flight; sweeping now, as if in farewell, close to the firs, so recently their home--rising now to a goodly height, directing their flight toward the south, and disappearing slowly in the veiled distance.
The gloomy eyes of a man standing at a window of the large castle-like mansion situated at the edge of the forest, followed this flight.
He was of tall stature and powerful in physique; the erect bearing would have betrayed the soldier even without the uniform which he wore: his features not handsome but strong; hair light, and eyes blue; in short, a typical German in appearance; but something like a shadow rested on those features, and the high brow bore deeper furrows than the years seemed to warrant.
"There, the birds are already leaving," he said, pointing to the flock which fluttered in the distance until lost entirely in the ma.s.s of fog.
"The autumn is here in nature and also in our lives."
"Not yet in yours," interrupted his companion. "You are standing in full strength at the height of your life."
"Perhaps so considering years; but I feel as if old age would approach me sooner than any one else. I feel much like the autumn of the year."
The other gentleman, who was in civilian dress, was probably older than his companion. His stature was of medium height and frail. At first sight he appeared almost insignificant beside the powerful form of the officer, but the pale, sharply outlined face bore an expression of cold, superior calm; and the sarcastic line around the thin lips proved that behind the cold composure expressed in his whole manner something deeper lay concealed.
He now shook his head with displeasure.
"You take life too hard, Falkenried," he said reproachfully; "you have changed remarkably in these last years. He who has seen you as a young officer, merry as the day, would not recognize you now. And why all this? The shadow which once clouded your life has long ago vanished; you are heart and soul a soldier; you receive distinction at every opportunity; an important position is a.s.sured you in the near future; and, what is best--you have kept your son."
Falkenried did not reply; he folded his arms and again looked out into the gray distance. The other continued:
"The boy has grown as handsome as a picture in these last few years. I was quite surprised when I saw him, and even you confess that he is extraordinarily gifted, and, moreover, in several respects is endowed with absolute genius."
"I wish Hartmut were less gifted and had more character instead,"
Falkenried said in almost harsh tones. "He can make poetry and learn languages as if it were play, but as soon as he begins earnest study he remains far behind the others; while as to military strategy, nothing whatever can be done with him. You have no idea, Wallmoden, what iron severity I have to bring to bear on that."
"I only fear that you do not accomplish much with this severity,"
interrupted Wallmoden. "You should have followed my advice and sent your son to the University. That he is not cut out for a soldier you ought now finally to see."
"He must and shall be fit for it; it is the only thing possible for his unruly disposition, which chafes under every curb and feels every duty a burden. The University--the life of a student--would give him fullest liberty. Nothing but the iron discipline to which he has to bow keeps him in check."
"Yes, for a while; but can it force him in the future? You should not deceive yourself. His are, unfortunately, inherited faults, which may possibly be suppressed, but never uprooted. Hartmut is in appearance the image of his mother; he has her features--her eyes."
"Yes, I know," Falkenried said, gloomily, "her dark, demoniacal, glowing eyes, which knew how to charm everything----"
"And which became your ruin," completed Wallmoden. "How did I not warn and implore against them, but you would not listen to anything. Pa.s.sion had taken hold of you like a fever and held you in bonds altogether. I have never been able to understand it."
A bitter smile flitted around Falkenried"s mouth.
"I believe that. You, the cool, calculating diplomat who carefully measure every step, are safe from such charms."
"I should at least be more careful in my choice. Your marriage brought misfortune with it from the beginning. A wife of foreign race and blood--of wild Slavian nature, without character, without any understanding for that which is custom and duty to us, and you with your strict principles--your irritable sense of honor--it had finally to come to such an end. And I believe you loved her up to the separation in spite of everything!"
"No," said Falkenried harshly. "The illusion vanished in the first year. I saw only too clearly--but I shuddered at the idea of laying my domestic miseries open to the world by a divorce. I bore it until no choice was left me--until I finally--but enough of it!"
He turned quickly, and again looked out of the window. There was suppressed torture in the sudden breaking off.
"Yes, it needed much to tear a nature like yours from the roots,"
Wallmoden said seriously; "but nevertheless the separation left you free from the unfortunate claim, and with that you should have also buried the reminiscences."
"One cannot bury such reminiscences; they always rise up again from the supposed grave, and just now----" Falkenried broke off suddenly.
"Just now--what do you mean?"
"Nothing; let us speak of other things. You have been at Burgsdorf since the day before yesterday. How long do you intend to stay?"
"Perhaps two weeks. I have not much time at my disposal, and am Willibald"s guardian really only in name, since the diplomatic service keeps me mostly in foreign countries. In fact, the guardianship rests in the hands of my sister, who rules everything, anyhow."
"Yes, Regine is well up to her position," a.s.sented Falkenried. "She rules the large estates and numerous people like a man."
"And issues commands from morning to night like a sergeant," completed Wallmoden. "With all due appreciation for her excellent qualities, I always feel a slight rising of the hair at the prospect of a visit to Burgsdorf, and I return from there regularly with shattered nerves.
Real primitive conditions rule in that place. Willibald is actually a young bear, but the ideal of his mother for all that. She does her best to raise him an ignorant young country squire. All interposition is of no use, for he has every inclination for it, anyway."
The entrance of a servant interrupted them. He handed a card to Falkenried, which the latter glanced at hastily.
"Herr Egern, Solicitor. Very well, show the gentleman in."
"Have you a business engagement?" asked Wallmoden, rising. "I will not disturb you."
"On the contrary, I beg you to remain. I have been advised of this visit, and know what will be discussed. It concerns----"
He did not conclude, for the door opened and the one announced entered.
He seemed surprised not to find the officer alone, as he had expected, but the latter took no notice of the surprise.
"Herr Egern, Solicitor--Herr von Wallmoden, Secretary of the Amba.s.sador."
The barrister bowed with cool courtesy, and accepted the offered chair.
"I probably have the honor of being familiar to you, Herr Major," he began. "As counsel for your wife, I had occasional cause to meet you personally in that suit for divorce."
He stopped, and seemed to expect an answer, but Major Falkenried only bowed in mute a.s.sent. Wallmoden now began to be attentive. He could now understand the strangely irritable mood in which he had found his friend upon his arrival.
"I come to-day also in the name of my former client," continued the lawyer. "She has asked me--may I speak freely?"
He cast a glance at the Secretary, but Falkenried said shortly:
"Herr von Wallmoden is my friend, and as such is familiar with the case. I beg you to speak without restraint."
"Very well, then--the lady has returned to Germany after long years of absence, and naturally wishes to see her son. She has already written to you on that behalf, but has not received an answer."