Читать книгу The Sign of Flame - E. Werner - Страница 3

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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 mass 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 assured 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. Passion 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," assented 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 Ambassador."

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 assent. 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."

"I should consider that a sufficient answer. I do not desire this meeting, and therefore shall not permit it."

"That sounds very harsh, Herr Major. Frau von Falkenried has surely----"

"Frau Zalika Rojanow, you mean to say," interrupted the Major. "She resumed her maiden name, so far as I know, when she returned to her country."

"The name is of no consequence," replied the lawyer calmly. "The sole consideration here is the perfectly justifiable wish of a mother, which the father cannot and must not deny, even when, as in this case, the son is given to him unconditionally."

"Must not! And if he should do it, notwithstanding?"

"Then he oversteps the borders of his rights. I would like to ask you, Herr Major, to consider the matter calmly before speaking such a decided 'No.' The rights of a mother cannot be so completely cancelled by a decision of the court that one may even deny her a meeting with her only child. The law is upon the side of my client in this case, and she will enforce it, if my personal appeal is ignored as was her written request."

"She may try it then. I will let it come to the test. My son does not know that his mother is alive, and shall not learn it just yet. I do not wish that he should see and speak to her, and I shall know how to prevent it. My 'No' remains unchanged."

These remarks were given quietly, but upon Falkenried's features there lay an ashy paleness, and his voice sounded hollow and threatening. The awful excitement under which he labored was apparent; only with supreme effort could he force himself to outward calm. The lawyer seemed to understand the fruitlessness of further effort. He only shrugged his shoulders.

"If this be your final decision, then my errand is, of course, finished, and we must decide later upon further moves. I am sorry to have disturbed you, Herr Major."

He took his leave with the same cool politeness with which he had entered.

Falkenried sprang up and paced the room stormily after the door had closed upon the lawyer. A depressing silence reigned for a few moments, after which Wallmoden spoke half audibly.

"You ought not to have done that. Zalika will hardly submit to your 'No.' If you remember, she carried on a life-and-death struggle for her child at that time."

"But I remained victor. I hope she has not forgotten that."

"At that time it concerned the possession of the boy," interrupted the friend. "The mother now only requests to see him again, and you will not be able to deny her that when she demands it with decision."

The Major came to a sudden standstill, but there was a scarcely veiled contempt in his voice as he said:

"She dares not do that after all that happened. Zalika learned to know me in our parting hour. She will take care not to force me to extremes a second time."

"But she will perhaps try to obtain secretly what you refuse her openly."

"That will be impossible; the discipline of our school is too strict. No relations could be started there of which I would not be notified immediately."

Wallmoden did not seem to share this confidence; he shook his head doubtingly.

"I confess that I consider your keeping, with such persistence, the knowledge of his mother's existence from your son a mistake. If he should hear it now from another source--what then? And you will have to tell him finally."

"Perhaps after two years, when he enters life independently. He is still but a scholar--a mere boy. I cannot yet draw the veil from the tragedy which was once enacted in the home of his parents--I cannot."

"Then at least be upon your guard. You know your former wife--know what can be expected from her. I fear there are no impossibilities for that woman."

"Yes, I know her," said Falkenried with boundless bitterness, "and just for that reason I will protect my son from her at any cost. He shall not breathe the poison of her presence for even an hour. Rest assured, I do not underrate the danger of Zalika's return, but as long as Hartmut remains at my side he will be safe from her, for she will not approach me again. I pledge you my word for that."

"We will hope so," returned Wallmoden, rising and giving his hand, "but do not forget that the greatest danger lies in Hartmut himself. He is in every respect the son of his mother. I hear you will come with him to Burgsdorf the day after tomorrow?"

"Yes; he always spends the short autumn vacation with Willibald. I myself can probably stay only for the day, but I shall surely come with him. Au revoir!"

The Ambassador's Secretary departed, and Falkenried again approached the window, glancing only hastily after the friend, who bowed once more. His glance was again lost with the former gloom, in the gray masses of fog.

"The son of his mother!"

The words rang in his ears, but there was no need for another to tell him that. He had long known it, and it was this knowledge that furrowed his brow so deeply and caused those heavy sighs.

He was a man to offer himself to every open danger, but he had struggled in vain, with all his energy for years, against this unfortunate inheritance of the blood in his only son.