Under a Charm. Vol. II

CHAPTER VI

That evening perfect quiet and stillness reigned in Wilicza, in contrast to the bustle and stir of the preceding day, when the whole place had swarmed with guests. On the return from the hunt a great supper had been served which lasted far on into the night, and most of the guests had slept at the Castle, leaving early in the morning. Count Morynski and Leo had gone away, too, on a visit to a neighbouring château. They would not return for several days; but Wanda had remained to keep her aunt company.

The two ladies were therefore on this evening alone in the drawing-room. It was already lighted up, and the curtains had been closely drawn; no sign was to be seen within these walls of the fierce November storm raging without. The Princess was seated on a sofa; but the young Countess had risen from her chair, pushing it hastily back as though in annoyance, and was pacing uneasily up and down the room.

"Wanda, I do beg of you to spare me these Cassandra-like warnings," said the elder lady. "I tell you again, your judgment is warped by your antipathy to Waldemar. Does it necessarily follow that he is our enemy, because you choose to remain on a war-footing with him."

Wanda stopped in her walk, and looked darkly across at the speaker. "You will one day regret having treated my warnings with ridicule, aunt," she replied. "I persist in my opinion. You are mistaken in your son. He is neither so blind nor so indifferent as you and every one else believe."

"Instead of these vague prophecies, why not say clearly and distinctly what it is you really fear?" said the Princess. "You know that in such a case as this I do not care for people's views and fancies. I require proofs. What has suggested to you this suspicion to which you cling so obstinately? Tell me what Waldemar really said to you yesterday when you met him at the forester's station."

Wanda was silent. That meeting by the forest lake–not at the station, as she had thought fit to state to her aunt–had furnished her with no actual proof for her assertions, for Waldemar had admitted nothing, and no consideration would have induced her to repeat the details of her conversation with him. She could only allege that strange instinct which from the first had guided her in her appreciation of his character, had led her to see clearly where even her aunt's penetration was at fault; but she well knew that she could not cite her instincts and presentiments without calling up a pitying smile on her aunt's face.

"We said very little to each other," she replied at length; "but I heard enough to convince me that he knows more than he ought."

"Very possibly," said the Princess, with perfect composure; "we must have been prepared for that sooner or later. I doubt that Waldemar has drawn inferences from any observations of his own; but over at the manor-farm they are sure to have whispered enough in his ear to put him on the alert. He has more to do with them than I like. He knows just what the steward knows, and what is no secret to any one in L–, namely, that we hold with our own people; but he has no deeper insight than the others; we have taken our precautions to prevent that. Besides, his whole conduct up to the present time tends to show that he is indifferent on the subject, as indeed he can afford to be, seeing that it does not concern him personally in the very least. In any case, this son of mine possesses a sufficient sense of decorum to withhold him from compromising his nearest relations. I put that to the test on the subject of Frank's resignation. It was displeasing to him, I know, and yet he did not hesitate to range himself on my side, because I had gone too far for him to undo my work without openly disavowing me. I shall take care that in more serious matters he shall find himself equally fettered, should it ever occur to him to play the master, or the German."

"You will not listen to me," said Wanda, resignedly. "Let the future decide which of us two is right. But I have a request to make, dear aunt. You will not object to my leaving early to-morrow morning?"

"So soon? but it was agreed that your father should come back here to fetch you!"

"I only remained to have a little quiet talk with you on this subject. Nothing else would have detained me at Wilicza. It was useless, I see; so let me go now."

The Princess shrugged her shoulders. "You know, my dear, how glad I always am to have you with me; but I frankly confess that after our very disagreeable dinner to-day, I shall put no obstacle in the way of your speedy departure. You and Waldemar hardly exchanged a word. I was forced to keep up a conversation with Dr. Fabian the whole time, in order to break the painful gêne of the situation. If you can exercise no control over yourself in these inevitable meetings, it will be really better that you should go."

In spite of the highly ungracious manner in which the permission was granted, the young Countess drew a breath of relief, as though a load were lifted from her.

"Well, then, I will send word to papa that he will find me at home at Rakowicz, and that he need not make the round by Wilicza," said she, quickly. "You will allow me to use your writing-table for a few minutes?"

The Princess nodded assent. Truth to say, she had on this occasion no objection to her niece's departure, for she was tired of standing perpetually between her and Waldemar, on the watch to ward off a scene, or a positive rupture. Wanda went into her aunt's study–which was only separated from the drawing-room by a heavy portière, half drawn back–and sat down at the writing-table. She had hardly written the first words when the door of the salon was quickly opened and a firm, steady step, audible even on the soft carpet, made her pause in her work. Immediately afterwards Waldemar's voice was heard in the next room.

The Countess slowly dropped her pen. Here in the study she could not possibly be seen, and she did not feel it incumbent on her to announce her presence, so she sat motionless, leaning her head on her hand. Not a word of what passed in the drawing-room escaped her.

The Princess, too, had looked up in surprise at her son's entrance; it was not his custom to visit her at this hour. Waldemar always spent the evenings in his own rooms with Dr. Fabian. It seemed, however, that an exception was to be made to-day, for after a few words of greeting he took a seat by his mother's side, and began to speak of yesterday's hunt.

For some minutes the conversation turned on indifferent topics. Waldemar had taken up an album of water-colour sketches which lay on the table, and was turning over the pages, while the Princess leaned back among the sofa cushions.

"Have you heard that your steward is intending to become a landed proprietor?" she remarked, carelessly. "He is seriously occupied now, looking out for a place in the neighbourhood. His situation at Wilicza must have been a lucrative one, for so far as I know Frank had no fortune when he came here."

"He has had an excellent income for the last twenty years," observed Waldemar, without looking up from the pages. "With his quiet way of living he can hardly have spent the half."

"Added to which, he has no doubt taken care of his own interests in all things, great and small. But enough of this. I wanted to ask you if you have thought of any one to replace him?"

"No."

"Well, then, I have a proposal to make to you. The tenant at Janowo cannot keep on his farm; he has fallen into distress through no fault of his own, and is obliged to take a dependent situation again. I think he would be a most suitable person for the stewardship of Wilicza."

"I think not," said Waldemar, very quietly. "The man goes about drunk the whole day long, and has ruined the place he has leased entirely by his own had conduct. He has not a shadow of an excuse."

The Princess bit her lips. "Who told you so? The steward, I suppose."

The young man was silent. His mother went on in a tone of some irritation.

"I do not, of course, wish to influence you in the choice of the persons you employ; but, in your own interest, I must warn you not to place such implicit faith in Frank's calumnies. The farmer would be an inconvenient successor, that is why he intrigues against him."

"Hardly that," replied Waldemar, as calmly as before, "for he is already aware that I do not intend to give him a successor. The two German inspectors will amply suffice to look after all the details of the concern, and as to the management in chief, I shall take that in hand myself."

The Princess started. His words seemed to take her breath away. "Yourself? That is new to me!"

"It should not be so. We have always looked forward to a time when I should take possession of my estates. That time has been deferred, owing to my stay at the University and my absence abroad; but the plan has never been given up. I know enough of farming and forestry–my guardian saw to that. I shall doubtless have some trouble in getting used to the local customs and affairs, but Frank will be at hand to help me till the spring."

He made these remarks in a nonchalant tone, as though he were saying the most natural things in the world, and appeared so absorbed in his study of the water-colour sketches that he did not notice his mother's consternation. She had raised herself from her negligent attitude, and was looking keenly and fixedly at him, but with no better success than her niece had met with on the preceding day–nothing was to be read in that countenance.

"It is strange that you have never let fall a hint of this resolve of yours," she observed. "You led us all to believe that you were only going to pay us a short visit."

"I only intended paying a short visit at first, but I see that the hand of the master is wanted here. More than this," he went on after a pause, "I have something to say to you, mother."

He shut the book, and threw it down on the table. Now for the first time it occurred to the Princess that Wanda's instinct had, perhaps, after all, seen more clearly in this case than her own penetrating and usually unfailing glance. She felt the storm coming, but she at once prepared to meet it, and the resolved expression of her face showed beyond a doubt that, in any struggle with her, her son would have a hard fight of it.

"Say on, then," she said, coldly. "I am ready to listen."

Waldemar had risen now and fixed his eyes sternly upon her. "When, four years ago, I offered you Wilicza as a home, I felt bound to give my mother a well-defined position as mistress of the Castle. The estates, however, remained my property, I suppose?"

"Has any one ever disputed it?" asked the Princess. "I imagine no one has ever raised a doubt as to your right to your estates."

"No, but I see the consequences now of leaving them for years in Baratowski and Morynski hands."

The Princess rose now in her turn, and faced her son with great dignity of demeanour.

"What is the meaning of this? Do you wish to make me responsible for the administration of your affairs not being such as you would wish? Blame your guardian, who for a quarter of a century allowed the officials to run riot here in the most incredible manner. The evil effects of their neglect have not escaped my notice; but you must settle such accounts with the persons in your employ, my son, and not with me."

"With the persons in my employ?" cried Waldemar, bitterly. "I think Frank is the only one who acknowledges me as master. The others, one and all, are in your service; and though perhaps they would hardly venture to refuse me obedience, I know well enough that any command of mine would be met by a host of expedients and intrigues, by a secret but active opposition, should you think proper to put your veto on it."

"You are dreaming, Waldemar," said the Princess, with a pitying and superior smile. "I did not think you were so completely under the steward's influence; but really, I must beg of you to set some bounds to your credulity in matters relating to your mother."

"And I beg of you to give up the old attempt at stinging me into compliance," interrupted her son. "Once, it is true, you were able to mould me as you wished by setting before me fear of a foreign influence which might assume control over my actions; but since I have really had a will of my own, it has become immaterial to me whether I seem to possess one or not. I have been silent for weeks, precisely because I did not altogether put faith in the steward's reports. I wanted to see with my own eyes–but now I ask you: Who has delivered over the farms, which, four years ago were all in German hands, to countrymen of yours on absurdly disadvantageous terms, without any guarantee, any security, against the loss they have caused, the damage they have done the land? Who has introduced into the woods and forests a set of men who may render eminent services to your national interests, but who have cut down my revenues by one half? Who has made the steward's position here so unbearable that he has no choice but to go? Fortunately, he possessed energy enough to call me to the rescue, or I should, in all probability, have remained away much longer, and it was high time for me to come. You have recklessly sacrificed everything to your family traditions; my officials, my fortune, my position even, for people naturally suppose that it has been done with my consent. The property was badly managed in my guardian's time; but no permanent harm was done, for the estates possess almost inexhaustible resources in themselves; the last four years, however, under your rule, have brought them to the very verge of ruin. You must have known it. You are acute enough to see whither all this must finally lead, and energetic enough to put a stop to it, if you had really wished to do so; but such considerations could, of course, have no weight. You had only one aim and object in view–to prepare Wilicza for the coming revolution."

The Princess had listened in silence, benumbed, as it were, by amazement which grew with every minute, and was roused even more by her son's manner than by what he said. It was not the first time such words had been spoken within those walls. The late Herr Nordeck had often enough reproached his wife with recklessly offering up all and everything at the shrine of her family traditions; he had indeed crushed in their birth many such schemes as those which were now ripe for execution, but such a scene as the present could not have taken place without the man's nature showing itself in all its brutality. He would rage and storm, would pour forth a stream of wild threats and abusive epithets, endeavouring so to assert his authority, but never evoking from his proud, fearless wife any response other than a smile of contempt. She knew that this "parvenu" possessed neither high intelligence nor strength of character, that his hatred and partisanship were alike based on the lowest motives; and, if anything could equal her disdain of him, it was the indignation she felt that such a husband should have been forced upon her. If Waldemar had conducted himself in the same way, she would not have been in the least surprised–the fact that he did not so conduct himself was what confounded her. He stood before her in a calm, self-possessed attitude, and coldly, but with telling emphasis, flung at her word after word, proof upon proof. Yet she saw that passion was hot within him. The vein on his temple stood out ominously swollen, and his hand buried itself convulsively in the cushions of the chair by which he stood,–these were the only symptoms of his inward excitement. His look and voice betrayed nothing of it; they were completely under his control.

Some seconds passed before the Princess answered. Her pride would not stoop to a denial or a prevarication; and, indeed, neither would have availed. Waldemar evidently knew too much; she could no longer reckon on his blindness, and was therefore compelled to take up a new position.

"You exaggerate," she replied at last. "Are you so timid that you can see a revolution brewing in your Wilicza, merely because I have sometimes used my influence in favour of my protégé's? I regret it, if some among them have abused my confidence and wrought you injury, instead of doing their duty by you; but these things happen everywhere–you are at liberty to dismiss them. What, after all, is it you reproach me with? When I came here, the estates were, to all intents and purposes, without a master. You took no interest in them, cared nothing for them; so I, as your mother, considered myself justified in taking up the reins which had fallen from your hands. It was certainly safer for me to hold them than to trust them with your paid agents. I have governed in my own fashion, I admit; but you were perfectly aware that I have always sided with my own family and my own people. I have never made a secret of it. My whole life bears witness to the fact, and to you, I should hope, I need offer no justification of my conduct. You are my son, as you are your father's, and the blood of the Morynskis runs also in your veins."

Waldemar seemed about vehemently to protest against the assertion; but again his self-command triumphed.

"It is the first time in your life you have acknowledged my share in that noble blood," he answered, ironically; "hitherto you have only seen–and despised–the Nordeck in me. True, you have not declared so much in words; but do you think I cannot interpret looks? I have seen the expression of your eyes, as they turned from Leo and your brother to me! You have put away from you the memory of your first marriage as of some disgrace. Happy in your position as Prince Baratowski's wife, satisfied with the love of your youngest-born, you never gave me a thought; when, later on, circumstances forced you to draw nearer me, it certainly was not I myself whom you sought. I do not reproach you with this. My father may have sinned against you in much–in so much that you can feel no affection for his son; but we must therefore leave altogether out of account sentiments which, once for all, do not exist between us. I shall shortly be obliged to prove to you that no drop of the Morynski blood runs in my veins. You may have transmitted it to Leo, but I am made of other stuff."

"I see it," said the Princess, in a low voice; "of other than I thought. I have never really known you."

He took no notice of her words. "You will understand, then, how it is that I now take the management of my affairs into my own hands," he went on. "One more question. What is the meaning of those conferences which were held in your apartments after supper yesterday evening, and which lasted far on through the night?"

"Waldemar, that concerns me alone," his mother answered in frigid self-assertion. "In my own rooms, at least, I will be mistress still."

"Absolute mistress in all that relates to your own affairs, but I will no longer give over Wilicza to serve your party aims. You hold your meetings here. Orders are issued from hence across the frontier, and messages are sent from out yonder to you in return. The Castle cellars are full of arms. You have got together a perfect arsenal below stairs."

The Princess's face turned deadly pale at the last words, but she held her ground, heavy as was the blow. Not a muscle of her face moved as she replied, "And why do you come to me with all this? Why not rather go to L–, where the account of your discoveries would be most gladly received? You have shown such eminent talent as a spy, it could not be so very repugnant to you to turn informer!"

"Mother!" burst from the young man's lips in accents of passionate anger, and he struck his clenched hand violently on the back of the chair. The old fierce temper was breaking forth again, bearing down before it all the self-control acquired so laboriously during the last few years. His whole frame was shaken with agitation, and he looked so menacing in his wrath that his mother involuntarily laid her hand on the bell to summon help. This movement of hers brought Waldemar to himself. He turned away hastily and went up to the window.

Some minutes elapsed in painful silence. The Princess already felt that she had allowed herself to be carried too far–she, who was coolness, prudence itself! She saw how her son wrestled with his passion, and what the struggle cost him; but she also saw that the man who, with such an iron energy, could by sheer force of will subdue his natural violence, that fatal inheritance from his father, was an adversary worthy of her.

When Waldemar again turned towards her, the paroxysm was past. He had crossed his arms on his breast as though, forcibly to still its heavings. His lips still worked nervously, but he had regained full command of his voice when he spoke.

"I did not think, when at that time at C– you entrusted my brother's future to my generosity and sense of honour–I did not then think that I should be incurring contumely such as this. Spy! Because I presumed to look into the secrets of my own Castle! I might retort with a word which would have a still worse sound. Which of us enjoys the hospitality of Wilicza, you or I? and which of us has abused it?"

The Princess looked down. Her face was sombre and very stern.

"We will not dispute about it. I have done what right and duty dictated, but it would be useless to endeavour to convince you of it. What do you intend to do?"

Waldemar was silent for a moment, then he said in a low tone, but emphasising every word: "I shall leave this to-morrow. I have business in P– which will detain me for a week. In that time Wilicza will be cleared of all the illicit stores it now contains; in that time all existing connections will be broken off, so far as the Castle is concerned. Transport your centre of operations to Rakowicz, or where you will, but my land shall be free of them. Immediately on my return, a second great hunt will take place here, at which the President and the officers in garrison at L– will be invited to attend. As mistress of the house you will, no doubt, be so good as to put your name with mine to the invitations."