Vineta, the Phantom City

"Your former pupil has surprised us all," he said, complaisantly, to Doctor Fabian. "Do you know that on his way through our town he called upon the governor on official business?"

"I knew that he proposed doing so," replied Fabian.

"His Excellency was much gratified by the visit," continued Hubert, "for he had abandoned all hope of aid from this side. Herr Nordeck was also so amiable as to invite the governor to take part in a hunt at Villica, and he hinted of other invitations no less surprising."

"Did his Excellency accept?" asked Gretchen.

"Certainly! He considered the invitation a great concession on the part of a man who has so long been under hostile influences, and felt in duty bound to accept it. Really, Doctor Fabian, you would do me a great favor if you would give me some definite information concerning the actual position of Herr Nordeck–"

"You will learn nothing from Doctor Fabian; he is more reserved even than our young landlord himself," interrupted Gretchen, feeling bound to come to the rescue of her accomplice, who was no actor and could not play his part properly. A sense of guilt almost choked him; he could not banish the thought that the assessor was to be deceived, and that he was to aid in deceiving him. Gretchen, however, took the matter less seriously, and marched straight on to her purpose.

"Will you take tea with us, Herr Assessor?" she asked. "You undoubtedly have business over at Janowo?"

"Not that I know of. Why just there?"

"Well, I only meant–We have heard so much of the proceedings over there for some days past, that I thought perhaps you had been commissioned to make a search in that place."

The assessor was fully aroused. "Conceal nothing from me, I beseech you!" he said, eagerly. "Tell me all you know about Janowo."

The doctor pushed back his chair unobserved. In his own eyes he was the blackest of conspirators, while his pupil showed a surprising talent for intrigue. She allowed herself to be questioned, and little by little she revealed all she had learned in the last few days, but with one important variation–she changed the field of operations from Villica to Janowo, the adjoining estate. Her plan succeeded far beyond her expectations. The assessor bit eagerly at the bate, and when Margaret had told all she knew, he sprang to his feet in feverish excitement.

"Excuse me, Fräulein Frank," he said, "for not awaiting your father's coming. I must return to E– at once."

"But not on foot; it is half an hour's walk."

"I must go incognito," whispered Hubert, mysteriously. "I will leave my carriage here, so that it may appear as if I were still at your house. Do not expect me to supper. Good-bye, Fräulein Margaret." So saying, he hurried away.

"He is going to E–," said Gretchen, exultingly, "in search of the two gendarmes stationed there; he will hasten with them to Janowo, and all three will pry about there until late at night. Villica is well rid of them."

Her anticipations were realized; the assessor returned from his expedition at a very late hour. As it had naturally been unsuccessful, he was out of humor, and, besides, he was chilled through and through. Unaccustomed to the night-air, he had taken such a severe cold that even Gretchen felt some sympathy for him. She made him herb teas, and nursed him the whole day with a solicitude that more than consoled him for his affliction. Unfortunately, Gretchen's thoughtful care and evident anxiety strengthened his conviction of her devoted love for him. Doctor Fabian also called upon the invalid, and showed so much sympathy for him, that the assessor was much affected and greatly comforted. He did not know that all these attentions sprang from the remorseful feelings of the two conspirators, and he finally returned to L–, not cured of his cold, but in the best of spirits.

The inmates of the castle little dreamed to whom they owed their security upon that night, when all their secret doings were in danger of being unveiled. At the very moment when Doctor Fabian and Margaret Frank were arranging their plan, a grave family consultation took place in the apartments of the princess. Count Morynski and Leo were in full travelling costume; the carriage which brought the count and his daughter half an hour previously, stood waiting at the door. Leo and Wanda had withdrawn to the deep recess of the central window, and were engaged in earnest conversation, while the princess and her brother also conversed apart, in a half audible tone.

"As matters stand," said the princess, "it is fortunate that circumstances require your immediate departure. I am glad to have Leo go with you, for he could not remain at Villica if Waldemar should assume an attitude of open hostility."

"And will you remain, Maryna?" asked the count.

"I must; it is the only thing I can do for you at present. I believe with you that an open conflict with Waldemar would be useless and dangerous. We have, for the time being, abandoned Villica as the centre of operations; but you and Leo can still send messengers here, and receive tidings from us in return. The castle will also be your refuge in case the worst should happen, and you be obliged to recross the frontier. Peace will not be violated on this side. When do you think of crossing?"

"Probably to-night, and the last transport of weapons will follow us. We must take them all away before Waldemar's return day after to-morrow, for he will be likely to have the castle searched."

"He will find nothing," said the princess; "we have obeyed his orders. But he shall atone for his tyranny. I have in my hands the means of retribution, and also those of arresting his course if he should attempt to go further."

The conversation was here interrupted by the approach of Leo and Wanda. "Mamma, it is impossible for me to change Wanda's determination," said Leo, in an exasperated tone. "She persists in remaining at home, and positively refuses to come to Villica."

"What foolishness is this, Wanda?" asked the princess, gazing at her niece in astonishment. "Months ago it was arranged that you would come to me when the long contemplated absence of your father should occur. You can not and ought not to remain alone at home. I am your natural protector, and you ought to stay with me."

"I beg your pardon, Aunt Maryna, but I can not and will not be a guest in a house whose master stands in open hostility to us."

"Do you suppose it is agreeable to your aunt to remain here?" asked the count, reprovingly. "She makes the sacrifice for our sakes; can you not be as magnanimous as she?"

"But my presence here is not needed," replied Wanda, excitedly. "The reasons that influence my aunt do not affect me at all. Let me go home, papa."

"Yield, Wanda," entreated Leo; "stay with my mother. For my sake, overcome your hatred for Waldemar, and remain at Villica."

He seized her hand, but she forcibly withdrew it. "Let me go, Leo," she said. "If you knew why your mother desires to have me near her, you would be the first to oppose it."

"Bronislaw, assert your paternal authority, and command your daughter to stay at Villica," said the princess, sternly.

"If you force me to remain," returned Wanda, highly incensed at these harsh words, "my father and Leo shall know the reason. You wish to place me as a shield between you and your son. You think me the only one Waldemar will not sacrifice, the only one who can restrain him. I do not believe it, for I know him better than you do; but it is immaterial which of us is right. I will not make the trial."

"No, you shall not make it," broke out Leo; "you shall remain at home. If Waldemar's old passion is not buried and forgotten, you shall not pass a day in his presence."

"Control your anger, Leo; it is quite uncalled for," said Wanda; but her own voice indicated anything but composure. "I shall not again permit myself to be a tool in my aunt's hands. I once trifled with this man and with his love–I shall not do so a second time. He has made me feel his contempt; I know how the remembrance stings him; but that was the mere whim of a thoughtless child. I would rather die than become the instrument through which any of my aunt's schemes could be carried out. I could not live to read in his eyes the contempt I should merit."

"Do you then care so much for Waldemar that you would rather die than incur his contempt?" asked Leo. "Can you read the language of his eyes so well?"

Wanda drew herself up to her full height; her cheeks glowed, her eyes flashed, she gave the young prince a look of withering scorn, and was about to reply to him, when her father interposed,–

"Don't be jealous, Leo! Why embitter our parting, and wound Wanda's feelings at the last moment? Since you insist upon it, my daughter shall remain at home. Your mother will yield to you on this point, but you must cease harassing Wanda by your suspicions. Time is passing, and we must say good-bye."

He embraced his daughter tenderly, and seemed loth to release her from his sheltering arms. The princess waited in vain for the approach of her son, who stood before her with sullen brow and downcast eyes, biting his lips until they bled.

"Will you not bid me adieu, Leo?" she asked.

He started from his gloomy revery. "Not now, mamma. I am not needed just yet; I will remain a few days."

"Leo!" exclaimed the count, angrily, while Wanda, with the same indignant outcry, released herself from her father's embrace. But these protests only strengthened the young man in his determination.

"I shall remain!" he persisted; "two or three days can make no difference. I shall accompany Wanda home, and assure myself that she is to remain there; and, above all, I shall await Waldemar's return, and obtain an explanation from him. I shall question him in regard to his sentiments for my betrothed. I shall–"

"Prince Leo Zulieski will do his duty," interposed the princess, in a clear, cold voice, contrasting strangely with the excited tones of her son. "He will accompany his uncle as he has promised to do, and not for one moment leave his side."

"I cannot," said Leo, vehemently,–"I cannot leave here with this anguished suspense gnawing at my heart. Wanda's hand has been promised to me, but I am never allowed to assert my rights; she has always coldly sided with my mother, saying that she would be the prize of the contest in which I am about to engage. I now demand that she shall be publicly and solemnly declared my betrothed bride, in Waldemar's presence–before his very eyes. He has lately undergone a surprising transformation from an obedient vassal to lord and master; ere my return, I might find him transformed into Wanda's ardent lover."

"No, Leo, that will never happen," replied Wanda, contemptuously; "but your brother certainly would not hesitate to do his duty, even at the cost of love and happiness."

She could not have uttered words more exasperating; Leo completely lost his self-control.

"O, not he! but it might cost me both if I should now leave you, with your boundless admiration for his character and his patriotism. Uncle Bronislaw, I ask only a three days' postponement of my departure; I shall claim it, even without your consent. I know that nothing of importance will occur immediately, and I shall be with you in season."

The princess was about to interfere, but the count forestalled her, saying peremptorily and authoritatively, "It is for me to decide this matter, Leo, and not you; I demand the obedience you have promised me as your commander. You must either go with me now or be dismissed from my service. Take your choice."

"He will obey you, Bronislaw," said the princess, solemnly, "or he is no longer my son. Decide, Leo! Your uncle will keep his word."

Leo had a violent conflict with himself. His uncle's threat and his mother's command would have alike proved powerless, now that his jealousy was so thoroughly aroused, if he had not known that by remaining he would incur Wanda's scorn; that decided him. He sprang to her side, and again seized her hand.

"I will go," he said; "but promise me that during my absence you will avoid Villica, and see my mother only at your own home. Promise me, above all, that you will keep aloof from Waldemar."

"No such promise is needed," she said, mildly; "I have already refused to remain at Villica."

Leo breathed more freely. Yes, it was true, she had positively refused to endure his brother's presence.

"Some day I may apologize to you for wounding your feelings," he said; "but I cannot do so now, Wanda." He pressed her hand convulsively, and added, "I do not believe you could betray yourself and us by loving this Waldemar Nordeck, who is our enemy and our oppressor. You must cherish no sentiment of respect or admiration for him. It is bad enough for me to know that he loves you, and that you are near him."

"Leo's impulsive nature will give you great trouble," said the princess in an undertone to her brother. "He cannot comprehend the meaning of the word 'discipline.'"

"He will learn it," replied the count, firmly. "And now good-bye, Maryna; we must go."

The parting was brief, and less tender than it would have been but for the discord which had preceded it. Wanda received Leo's embrace in silence and did not return it, but she threw herself with passionate devotion upon her father's breast. As the mother bade her son good-bye, she whispered some words of warning in his ear of so grave a character that he immediately released himself from her arms. The count once more silently pressed his sister's hand, and then both men passed into the hall, wrapped their cloaks around them, and entered the carriage which awaited them. There was one more greeting to the two ladies who stood at the window, and then they were whirled rapidly away.

The princess and her niece were alone. Wanda threw herself upon a sofa and buried her face among the cushions; the princess stood at a window and gazed long and wistfully after the carriage that was bearing her darling into conflict and danger. When she turned toward Wanda, her white face and agitated manner plainly told what parting with her son had cost her.

"It was unpardonable in you, Wanda," she said, "in an hour like this, to arouse Leo's jealousy in order to make him obey you; you know how susceptible he is upon this point."

Wanda raised her head; there were traces of tears upon her cheeks.

"You forced me to it, aunt," she said; "I had no other alternative. And, besides, I had no idea that Leo could be jealous of Waldemar."

"My child," replied the princess, in an icy tone, "I have never taken Leo's part when he has tormented you with his jealous suspicions, but to-day I see that they are well founded. I fully concur in your determination not to remain here, where you will be thrown into daily association with Waldemar. For Leo's sake and your own, you had better go."

Wanda started from her reclining posture. She gazed at her aunt with dilated eyes, and white lips that were incapable of speech; she felt like one on the brink of a precipice; almost fainting, she grasped the arm of the sofa for support.

"You deceive yourself," she at length found strength to say; "or you wish to deceive me. I have not deserved this insult."

The princess gazed long and searchingly into the face of her niece. "I know that you have no premonition of your danger," she said, "and therefore I warn you. Somnambulists must be wakened before they reach those giddy heights where awakening will cause their destruction. Energy and an iron will have always been the traits of manly character you most admired; Waldemar undeniably possesses these, while Leo, who is endowed with so many brilliant qualities, unfortunately is wanting in them both. Do not place too much reliance upon your hatred for Waldemar; some day you may find it quite another sentiment. I seek to open your eyes before it is too late, and I believe that the day is not distant when you will thank me for so doing."

"I already thank you," replied Wanda, in a low voice.

"Let us dismiss the subject, then; I hope there is no danger as yet. To-morrow I will accompany you home. I must now see that the necessary precautions are taken to-night, so that no harm may befall us in these last moments of our stay at Villica. I will myself give the orders, and superintend everything in person."

So saying, the princess left the room, firmly convinced that she had done her duty and averted an imminent danger by thus boldly rending asunder the veil which had covered Wanda's heart. If she could have seen the young girl sink back upon her seat as if crushed by remorse and sorrow, she would have discovered that the giddy height where an outcry might prove fatal had been reached already. No cry of alarm could now avail, either to warn or to rescue. The awakening came too late.