Vineta, the Phantom City

"I am thirty-seven years old," interrupted the doctor.

"Ah, is that all?" replied Hubert; "I really thought you older; your sedentary habits and absorption in books give you a gravity beyond your years. In any event, I have no fear of you," he added, with a patronizing smile. "But, speaking of books, tell me, doctor, why have you brought along all these books that I see lying around everywhere? What are you studying? The best modes of teaching, probably. May I examine them?"

He rose and moved toward the writing-table, but Doctor Fabian was quicker than he. With a hasty movement he threw a newspaper over some unbound volumes that were lying there, and took his station in front of them. "I am at present engaged in some historical studies," he said, blushing deeply; "this is a favorite amusement of mine."

"Ah, historical studies!" repeated the assessor. "May I ask if you are acquainted with the great authority on this subject, Professor Schwarz? He is my uncle. Of course you know him; he is connected with the university of J–, where young Nordeck studied."

"I have that pleasure," replied Fabian, mechanically, casting a timid glance at a newspaper which lay upon the table.

"O, yes, everybody knows him; he is a celebrated man, and is endowed with talents of the highest order. Although my family can boast of many renowned names, we have every reason to be proud of this relationship. I hope also to do honor to our name and lineage."

The doctor stood anxiously guarding his writing-table from an attack on the part of the assessor, but that young gentleman was too much absorbed in the importance of his family in general, and that of his celebrated uncle in particular, to pay any regard to the productions of a mere private tutor. Nevertheless, he felt constrained to show him some courtesy.

"It is very commendable in non-professional men to interest themselves in such studies," he observed, condescendingly. "I only fear that you have not the requisite leisure; it must be very noisy in the castle. Is there not a constant coming and going of all kinds of people?"

"There may be," replied Fabian, ingenuously, and without the least suspicion of his visitor's aim, "but I hear nothing of it. My former pupil, knowing my studious inclinations, has had the kindness to give me the most quiet and secluded rooms in the castle."

"O, certainly, certainly!" replied Hubert, who now took his stand at a window and endeavored to obtain a broad outlook from that point. "I should think such an ancient structure as this Villica, with its historical associations, must deeply interest you; there are so many rooms, halls, and stairways; and what vast cellars the castle must contain! Have you been in the cellars yet?"

"In the cellars!" echoed the doctor, in astonishment. "No, sir; what business have I there?"

"I would like to visit them; I have a fancy for such old vaults, as I have for all ancient and curious things. By the way, is the large collection of arms that was left by the late Herr Nordeck still intact? That hobby of his must have cost large sums of money, as it resulted in the accumulation of hundreds of the finest weapons. Are they all here yet?"

Doctor Fabian shrugged his shoulders. "You must ask his son," he said; "I confess that I have not been in the armory."

"It is doubtless on the other side of the castle," observed Hubert, with an omniscient glance. "According to Superintendent Frank's description, it is a dark, ghostly-looking hall, in keeping with the general character of Villica. Have you never heard that there are mysterious manifestations around here? Have you never observed anything remarkable or unusual at night?"

"I sleep all night long," replied the doctor, smiling at his visitor's belief in ghosts.

The assessor raised his eyes to heaven, and mentally ejaculated, "This man, whom chance has placed within Villica Castle, sees and hears nothing of what is transpiring around him; he has not visited the cellars, he has not even entered the armory, and, most astounding thing of all, he sleeps at night! There is nothing to be learned from such a harmless book-worm."

After a few polite commonplaces, Hubert took his leave.

He passed slowly along the corridor. Upon his arrival, a servant had conducted him to the doctor's rooms, but now he was alone–alone in a "nest of conspirators," which this bright forenoon, with its carpeted halls and stairways, looked as quiet and elegant and harmless as the most loyal castle of the most loyal citizen. But the assessor was not to be deceived by appearances; right and left he scented the conspiracy which he could not openly attack. At length he espied a door which he thought had a suspicious aspect. It stood in the shadow of a huge pillar, and was set deep in the wall. This door, he thought, must lead to a side stairway, perhaps to a secret passage, and possibly down to the cellars which his vivid imagination at once filled with concealed weapons and bands of traitors. He would at least turn the knob; perhaps here lay the key to the whole mystery. In case of discovery, he might pretend to have made a mistake, or to have become lost in the winding passages of the castle. The little man's cogitations were cut short and his further investigations prevented by the sudden opening of the door and the appearance of Waldemar Nordeck. A single glance through the open portal showed him that it led to no nest of treason, stratagem, and spoils, but simply to the sleeping-apartment of the master of Villica. Waldemar nodded indifferently to the assessor, and passed on to Doctor Fabian's rooms. Hubert saw that, in spite of his apologies, the recent insult had not been forgiven, and that his best course would be to relinquish for the present all attempts at further discoveries, and to leave immediately.

Waldemar found Doctor Fabian at his writing-desk, re-arranging the books and papers he had screened from the assessor's inquisitive gaze. "Well, what news?" asked the young landlord. "I noticed, when I sent in your mail, that you had received letters and papers from J–."

The doctor replied, almost bitterly, "O Waldemar, why did you force me to give the public the results of my quiet studies and labors? I opposed it from the first, but you entreated and insisted, and so I published the book."

"Of course I did! Of what benefit was it to you and to the world, locked up in your writing-desk? Your 'History of Ancient Germany' has been received with unexpected favor. In truth, the first recognition of its merits came from Professor Weber, of J–, and I should think that his name and judgment ought to be of sufficient weight."

"I think so too," replied Fabian, dejectedly. "I was only too proud and happy in receiving praise from such a source; but this very circumstance has provoked Professor Schwarz to make an exceedingly severe attack upon me and upon my book. Just read what he says."

Waldemar took the newspaper, and read the criticism. "This is most detestable malice," he said. "Why, the article really ends with a personal attack upon you and me:–'We are told that this learned and literary celebrity, lately discovered by Professor Weber, was for a long time tutor to the son of one of our first landed proprietors; but the young man's culture reflects little credit upon his teacher. The influence of this wealthy pupil may, however, have had its share in eliciting such boundless over-estimation of a work through which an amateur seeks to intrude into the ranks of men of science.'"

Waldemar flung the paper upon the table. "Poor Doctor Fabian," he exclaimed, "how often you have to atone for having educated such an unruly, uncultivated being as I am! True, you are in no way responsible for my unworthiness, and I have not in the least influenced Professor Weber's panegyric of your book; but in those exclusive circles where this Schwarz moves, you can never be forgiven for having been a tutor, even though you one day win a professorship."

"Good heavens, who ever thought of such a thing?" cried Doctor Fabian, aghast at the very idea of so great exaltation. "Not I, indeed; and I am all the more deeply wounded at being reproached with ambition and unwarranted intrusion into learned circles, because I have simply written an historical work, which adheres closely to the subject, insults no one, encroaches upon no one's rights, and–"

"And is, moreover, one of the best ever written," interposed Waldemar. "You ought to believe in its excellence, since Professor Weber has so emphatically indorsed it. You know that he is absolutely impartial, and that you have always looked upon him as an undisputed authority."

"Professor Schwarz is also an authority."

"Yes, but an atrabilious one, who concedes no merit outside himself. Why should you come out with a book upon Ancient Germany, when that is his especial province? Has he not written upon the subject? Woe to the man who dares venture upon that sacred ground; his anathema is pronounced beforehand! But don't look so downhearted; such a mien ill becomes a new-fledged celebrity. What would Uncle Witold, with his contempt for that 'heathen rubbish,' have said to all this? If we had known, in those old days at Altenhof, the brilliant future that lay before you, we should all have treated you with more respect. It was a sacrifice for a man of your talents to stay with me."

"No, no; a thousand times no!" cried Doctor Fabian, excitedly. "The sacrifice was all on your side. Who obstinately insisted upon keeping me with him when he no longer needed my instruction? Who always declined receiving the slightest service which would take me from my books? Who gave me the means to devote myself for years to historical research, to collect and arrange my desultory acquirements? Who almost compelled me to accompany him upon journeys, because close application had injured my health? The hour when your Norman wounded me was a beneficent hour to me. I owe to it all I hoped or longed for in this world."

"Then your longings were few indeed," returned Waldemar, "so few that it would have been a great pity had they not been gratified. But, to change the subject, I have just met in the hall that exemplary representative of the police department of L–. He came from you, and I see him now prowling about the yard. His visits cannot be on our account, since we have proved that we are not conspirators. Why, then, is he here so much?"

Fabian cast down his eyes and seemed greatly embarrassed. "I do not know," he said, "but I fancy there is a personal reason for his frequent visits at the superintendent's. He has made me a visit before."

"And did you receive him kindly? Doctor, you are strictly obedient to that Christian precept, 'If a man smite you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.' I really believe you would not hesitate to do the greatest favor in your power even to Professor Schwarz. But be upon your guard with this formidable assessor; he is again upon the chase for conspirators, and, insignificant as he is, chance may yet favor him. There really are conspirators in Villica."

"Have you made any unpleasant discoveries?" asked Doctor Fabian. "I have thought it might be so, although you tell me nothing."

Waldemar seated himself and leaned his head wearily upon his hand. "I do not like to speak of matters concerning which I am not fully informed," he said; "and it will require time to gain perfect knowledge of affairs in Villica. How was I to know that the superintendent had not a personal interest in misrepresenting things, or that he had not exaggerated? In such matters one can only trust his own judgment, and I have used mine during the last few weeks. Unfortunately, every word Frank wrote me has been confirmed; order prevails as far as his absolute authority extends, but upon the other estates, and especially throughout the forests, I find a perfect chaos."

Fabian pushed aside his books and papers, and listened with anxious sympathy as Waldemar went on:

"Uncle Witold always thought that my Polish estates could be managed from a distance, and, unfortunately, he reared me in that belief. I did not love Villica, I do not love it now; too many unpleasant reminiscences of the fatal misunderstandings between my parents, and of my friendless childhood, are connected with it. I was accustomed to regard Altenhof as my home, and when I attained my majority and should have come here as master, reasons which I cannot name prevented me. I must now atone for past neglect. The twenty years of deputized rule allowed by my guardian have resulted in many evils; but they are nothing when compared with the perhaps irreparable injuries resulting from my mother's management. I am alone to blame; I have never troubled myself about my estates: I now stand cheated and betrayed upon my own soil."

"You were very young when you came into possession of your estates," said the doctor, apologetically. "The three years at the university were indispensable to you, and then, as we travelled a year, we could have no suspicion how things were going on at Villica. We came here immediately upon receiving the superintendent's letter, and I really think that with your good sense and energy, you will overcome the most formidable obstacles."

"They are greater than you dream," returned Waldemar. "The princess is my mother, and she and Leo are wholly dependent upon my generosity. This ties my hands. If there should be a serious breach between us, they would have to leave Villica, and Count Morynski's house would be their only refuge. I do not wish to subject them to such humiliation, but there must be an end to this underhanded game, especially to proceedings here in the castle. Doctor, you have no idea of the state of affairs. I know a great deal already, and I am resolved to make a thorough investigation. I shall now speak with my mother."

A long pause followed. Fabian ventured no reply; he knew by the expression of the young man's face that this was no trifling matter. He at length approached his pupil, laid a hand upon his shoulder, and asked, gently,–

"Waldemar, what occurred yesterday at the chase?"

"At the chase?" repeated Waldemar. "Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Because you returned in such ill humor; and besides, at the dinner-table, I heard some hint of a dispute between you and your brother."

"Ah, indeed!" replied Waldemar, indifferently. "Leo was irritated because I treated his favorite horse rather harshly; but the matter is not of the least consequence–it is already settled."

"Then it was something else."

"Yes–something else."

Another silence followed: then the doctor began again:

"Waldemar, the princess recently called me your only confidant; I might have replied that you have no confidant. Perhaps I am somewhat nearer to you than others, but you never open your heart to me. Must you endure and fight through everything alone?"

Waldemar smiled, but it was a cold, joyless smile. "You must take me as I am," he said; "but why this solicitude? I may well be out of sorts, so many anxieties and difficulties beset me here."

The doctor shook his head. "These things no doubt irritate and embitter you beyond measure, but the sorrow that oppresses you has another cause. I have seen you in this mood only once before, Waldemar; it was at Altenhof, when–"

"Spare me these recollections, I implore you!" interrupted Waldemar, so abruptly and impetuously that Fabian started back in terror. Waldemar immediately mastered his emotion, and continued, in a calmer tone, "I am sorry that you, too, must suffer from my vexation; it was selfish in me to bring you to Villica. You should have returned to J–, to remain until I had restored order here and could offer you a quiet asylum."

"I would not have left you alone under any consideration," said Fabian, gently but decidedly.

Waldemar grasped his hand. "I knew you would not; but do not torture yourself any longer about my troubles; if you do, I shall repent having been so frank with you. Your own affairs should engross you now. Remember me to Professor Weber when you write to J–, and tell him that I am about to reduce your work to practice, and impress something of the 'History of Germany' upon my Slavonic estates. Villica needs it. Good-bye."

Doctor Fabian looked after him as he left the room, and sighed, "He is impenetrable and silent as a rock whenever I attempt to approach this one subject, but I know that to this day he has not mastered that sentiment, and he never will. I fear that the baleful influence which kept us so long from Villica is beginning to re-assert its power. Let Waldemar deny it as he will; I saw him yesterday when he returned from the chase; he is even now under the old spell."