Читать книгу The Sign of Flame - E. Werner - Страница 6

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The families of Falkenried and Wallmoden had been friendly for years. As owners of adjoining estates they visited each other frequently; the children grew up together, and many mutual interests drew the bonds of friendship still closer.

As both families were only comfortably well off, the sons had their own way to make, which, after completing their education, Major Hartmut von Falkenried and Herbert Wallmoden had done. They had been playmates as children, and had remained true to that friendship when grown to manhood.

At one time the parents thought to cement this friendship by a marriage between the--at that time--Lieutenant Falkenried and Regine Wallmoden. The young couple seemed in perfect accord with it, and all looked propitious for the match, when something took place which brought the plan to a sudden end.

A cousin of the Wallmoden family--an incorrigible fellow who, through divers bad capers, had made it impossible to remain at home, had, long ago, gone out into the wide world. After much travel and a rather adventurous life, he had landed in Roumania, where he acted as inspector upon the estates of a rich Bojar. The rich man died, and the inspector thought best to retrieve his lost fortunes and position in life by marriage with the widow.

It was consummated, and he returned to his old home, accompanied by his wife, for a visit to his relatives, after an absence of more than ten years.

Frau von Wallmoden's bloom of youth had long passed, but she brought with her her daughter by her first marriage--Zalika Rojanow.

The young girl, hardly seventeen years old, with her foreign beauty and charm of her glowing temperament, burst like a meteor upon the horizon of this German country nobility, whose life flowed in such calm, even channels.

And she was a strange object in this circle, whose forms and manners she disregarded with sovereign indifference, and who stared at her as at a being from another world. There was many a serious shaking of heads and much condemnation, which was not uttered aloud, because they saw in the girl only a temporary visitor, who would disappear as suddenly as she had come into view.

Just about this time Hartmut Falkenried came from his garrison to the paternal estates, and became acquainted with the new relatives of his friends. He saw Zalika and recognized in her his fate. It was one of those passions which spring up lightning-like--which resemble the intoxication of a dream, and are paid for only too frequently with the penance of the whole life.

Forgotten were the wishes of the parents, his own plans for the future--forgotten the quiet affection which had drawn him to his playmate Regine. He no longer had eyes for the domestic flower which bloomed young and fresh for him; he breathed only the intoxicating perfume of the foreign wonder-plant. All else disappeared before her, and in a quiet hour with her he threw himself at her feet, confessing his love.

Strangely enough, his feelings were returned. Perhaps it was the truth of extremes meeting which drew Zalika to a man who was her opposite in every respect; perhaps she was flattered by the fact that a glance, a word from her could change the grave, calm and almost gloomy nature of the young officer to enthusiasm.

Enough, she accepted his proposal and he was permitted to embrace her as his betrothed.

The news of this engagement created a storm in the whole family circle; entreaties and warnings came from all sides; even Zalika's mother and stepfather opposed it, but the universal disapproval only increased the determination of the young couple, and six months later Falkenried led his young wife into his home.

But the voices who prophesied misfortune to this marriage were in the right. The bitterest disappointment followed the short term of happiness. It had been a dangerous mistake to believe that a woman like Zalika Rojanow, grown up in boundless freedom and accustomed to the uncontrolled, extravagant life of the families of the Bojars of her country, could ever submit herself to German views and conditions.

To gallop about on fiery horses; to associate freely with men who spent their time in hunting and gambling, and who surrounded themselves in their homes with a splendor which went hand in hand with the most corrupted indebtedness of estates--such was life as she had known it so far, and the only life which suited her.

A conception of duty was as foreign to her as the knowledge of her new position in life. And this woman was to accommodate herself now to the household of a young officer of but limited means, and to the conditions of a small German garrison!

That this was impossible was proved in the first weeks. Zalika began by throwing aside every consideration, and furnishing her house in her usual style, squandering heedlessly her by no means insignificant dowry.

In vain her husband entreated, remonstrated; he found no hearing. She had only sarcasm for forms and rules which were holy to him; only a shrug of the shoulder for his strict sense of honor and ideas of decorum.

Very soon they had the most vehement controversies, and Falkenried recognized too late the serious error which he had committed. He had counted upon the all-powerful efficacy of love to battle against those warning voices which had pointed out the difference of descent, education and character, but he was forced now to recognize that Zalika had never loved him; that caprice alone, or a sudden outburst of passion, which died as suddenly, had brought her to his arms.

She saw in him now only the uncomfortable companion who begrudged her every pleasure of life; who, with his foolish--his ridiculous ideas of honor, fettered and bound her on every side. Still, she feared this man, whose dominant will succeeded always in bowing her characterless nature under his rod.

Even the birth of little Hartmut was not sufficient to reconcile this unhappy marriage; it only held it, apparently, together. Zalika loved her child passionately; she knew her husband would never permit her to keep it if they separated. This alone retained her at his side, while Falkenried bore his domestic misery with concealed pain, putting forth every effort to hide it at least from the world.

Nevertheless, the world knew the truth; it knew things of which the husband did not even dream and which were kept concealed from him through sheer compassion.

But finally the day came when the deceived husband was told what was no secret to others.

The immediate result following was a duel in which Falkenried's opponent fell. Falkenried himself was imprisoned, but was soon pardoned.

Every one knew that the offended husband had only vindicated his honor.

In the meantime, steps were taken for a divorce, which was granted in due time. Zalika made no opposition. She dared not approach her husband; she trembled before him since that hour of separation, when he had called her to account; but she made desperate efforts to secure the possession of her child, fighting as for life.

It was in vain. Hartmut was given unconditionally to his father, who knew how to prevent every approach of the mother with iron inflexibility.

Zalika was not even allowed to see her son again, and it was only after convincing herself entirely on that point that she left--returning to the home of her mother.

She had seemed lost to and forgotten by her former husband until she suddenly reappeared in Germany, where Major Falkenried now held an important position in the large military school at the Residenz.

* * * * *

It was about a week after the arrival of Hartmut at Burgsdorf. Frau von Eschenhagen was in her sitting-room with Major Falkenried, who had but just arrived.

The topic of their conversation seemed to be very serious and of a rather disagreeable nature, for Falkenried listened with a gloomy face to his friend, who was speaking.

"I noticed Hartmut's changed demeanor the third or fourth day. The boy, whose mirth at first knew no bounds, so that I even threatened to send him back home, suddenly became subdued. He committed no more foolish pranks, but roamed for hours through the woods alone, and when he returned was always dreaming with his eyes open, to such an extent that one had almost to awake him. 'He is beginning to get sensible,' said Herbert; but I said, 'Things are not going right; there is something behind all this,' and I questioned my Willy, who also appeared quite peculiar. He was actually in the plot. He had surprised the two one day. Hartmut had made him promise to keep silent, and my boy positively hid something from me, his mother! He confessed only when I got after him seriously. Well, he will not do it a second time. I have taken care of that."

"And Hartmut? What did he say?" interrupted the Major hastily.

"Nothing at all, for I have not spoken a syllable to him about it. He would probably have asked me why he should not see and speak to his own mother, and only--his father can give him the answer to that question."

"He has probably heard it already from the other side," said Falkenried bitterly; "but he has hardly learned the truth."

"I fear so, too, and therefore I did not lose a minute in notifying you after discovering the affair. But what next?"

"I shall have to interfere now," replied the Major with forced composure. "I thank you, Regine. I apprehended trouble when your letter called me so imperatively. Herbert was right. I ought not to have allowed my son to leave my side for an hour under the circumstances. But I believed him safe from every approach here at Burgsdorf. And he anticipated the trip with such pleasure--he longed for it almost passionately. I did not have the heart to refuse him. He is happy, anyway, only when absent from me."

There was deep pain in the last words, but Frau von Eschenhagen only shrugged her shoulders.

"That is not the fault of the boy alone," she said straightforwardly. "I also keep my Willy under good control, but nevertheless he knows that he has a mother whose heart is full of him. Hartmut does not know that of his father. He knows him only from a grave, unapproachable side. If he had an idea that you idolize him secretly----"

"He would abuse the knowledge and disarm me with his caressing tenderness. Shall I allow myself to be ruled by him as every one else is who comes into his presence? His comrades follow him blindly although he brings punishment upon them by his pranks. He has your Willibald completely under control--yes, even his teachers treat him with particular indulgence. I am the only one he fears, and consequently the only one he respects."

"And you think by fear alone to succeed with the boy, who is doubtless now being overwhelmed with the most senseless caresses! Do not turn away, Falkenried; you know I have never mentioned that name to you, but now that it is brought forward so prominently, one may speak it. And since we happen to be upon the subject, I tell you frankly that nothing else could be expected since Frau Zalika's appearance. It would have done no good to have kept Hartmut from Burgsdorf, for one cannot treat a seventeen-year-old lad like a little child. The mother would have found her way to him in spite of all--and it was her right. I would have done just so, too."

"Her right!" cried the Major angrily. "And you tell me that, Regine?"

"I say it because I know what it is to have an only child. That you should take the child from its mother was right--such a mother was not fit for the raising of a boy--but that you now refuse to let her see her son again after twelve years is harshness and cruelty, which hatred alone can teach you. However great her faults may be, that punishment is too severe."

Falkenried stared gloomily before him--he might have felt the truth of the words. Finally he said, slowly:

"I would never have thought that you would take Zalika's part. I offended you bitterly once for her sake--I broke a bond----"

"Which had not even been tied," interrupted Frau von Eschenhagen. "It was a plan of our parents--nothing more."

"But the idea was dear and familiar to us from childhood. Do not attempt to excuse me, Regine; I only know too well what I did at that time to you and--to myself."

Regine fixed her clear, gray eyes upon him, but there was a moist gleam in them as she replied:

"Well, yes, Hartmut; now since we are both long past our youth, I may, perhaps, confess that I liked you then. You might have been able to make something better of me than I am now. I was always a self-willed child--not easy to rule; but I would have followed you--perhaps you alone of all the world. When I went to the altar with Eschenhagen three months after your marriage, matters were reversed.

"I took the reins into my own hands and began to command, and since then I have learned it thoroughly---- But now, away with that old story, long since past. I have not thought hard of you because of it--you know that.

"We have remained friends in spite of it, and if you need me now, in advice as well as deed, I am ready to help you."

She offered her hand, which he grasped.

"I know it, Regine, but I alone can advise here. Please send Hartmut to me. I must speak to him."

Frau von Eschenhagen arose and left the room, murmuring as she went: "If only it is not too late already! She blinded and enraptured the father once. She has probably secured her son now."