Читать книгу Quisisana; or, Rest at Last - Spielhagen Friedrich - Страница 7

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His master's long absence had at length commenced to disquiet faithful Konski considerably. True, he knew from his ten years' experience that he need not pay much attention to any orders that master gave him when in a state of great excitement; and, of course, the later it grew, the more improbable it became that the departure, although announced, would really take place; but then, supposing some accident had happened to him? The doctor in Berlin had most strongly urged him to take every possible precaution lest, during the first few weeks anyhow, his master should over-exert himself in any way--and master had hurried down those terrace steps like one possessed! And all on account of this infernal old maid who was never allowed to visit at this house when they, master and he, were here! Oh, why had he not held his silly tongue, and not brought the great news at once to his master!

He would have liked hurrying after him into the village, but dared not leave his post. And now their host came in and inquired for master, and seemed greatly concerned when Konski, to soothe his own anxiety as it were, hinted that his master had not been over pleased when told that additional guests were expected; and Konski added, as a sort of conjecture of his own, that he had probably gone out for a walk, so as to avoid having to be present at their reception. And meanwhile My Lady had returned and had sent for him, and Konski had to repeat to her Ladyship--for whom he entertained the most confounded respect--what he had already told her Ladyship's husband; and her Ladyship had looked so hard at him with those piercing brown eyes of hers, that he was jolly glad when he was back at his post of observation at the lobby-window, whence he could survey the whole extensive court-yard. And there--an open carriage was just entering it; only two people in it--a lady and a gentleman--thank Heaven, one lady only! In the gathering twilight Konski could not distinguish, the lady's features or figure, but, if there was only one lady, why, who could it be but dear Miss Erna? And from her, master was not likely to run away; and all was well now, if only he himself were safely back.

The door below was opened. Konski heard his master's step upon the stairs and hurried to meet him, joyfully telling him all that he had observed; and did master know already that Miss Erna was the only lady who had arrived?

His master had thrown himself into an arm-chair in the sitting-room, where careful Konski had already lighted a liberal supply of candles, and was staring hard in front of him, passing at intervals his hands over brow and eyes. Suddenly he sat bold upright and said:

"What did you say?"

Poor Konski had said nothing at all during the last few minutes, but inquired now whether his master would not dress for supper; he thought it was getting quite late enough.

Bertram rose and passed into the adjoining bedroom where Konski had laid out such a costume as he deemed appropriate for the occasion. He lent him the necessary aid, and marvelled greatly that his master, who was wont to talk to him during the process of dressing more than at any other time, did not say a single word to-night. Another curious thing was this: quite contrary to his custom, the master looked hard at himself in the mirror again and again, and, strangest sight of all, he pulled and twisted his moustache about! However, seeing that master, though looking very grave, did not appear either annoyed or angry, Konski was quite satisfied. To-night then, anyhow, their departure need not be provided for.

There was a knock at the door. Their host entered as hurriedly as was consistent with his being so very stout.

"Thank Heaven that you are here!" he exclaimed, shaking both his friend's hands again and again, as though he had been 'long looked-for, come at last!' "Thank Heaven; we have been quite frightened about you. Hildegard was very angry that I had left you alone. I said to her, 'Why, he is not a child, requiring to be watched at every step;' that is to say, I did not actually say so in so many words. I ... thought so. My wife is terribly nervous to-day. I had told her at once ..."

Here he noticed the servant's presence, and in some embarrassment broke off abruptly. Bertram having now completed his toilet, the two gentlemen left the room together. As they were walking through the long passage which led to the main building, his host put one arm round his friend's slender waist and said confidentially, lowering his voice by way of precaution--

"I had told Hildegard at once that you would be annoyed; at least I did not say so in so many words, but I--hinted it, for, you know, my wife cannot beat contradiction; and I soon found out that the two women, between them, had determined that the meeting should take place. Now Erna tells me--she is a darling, is she not? a little peculiar, a little odd, but always good to me; how nice that you met on the hills--well, Erna tells me that you were not particularly angry that Lydia had accompanied her; that is to say, Erna does not know anything of the old stories, or has only heard some vague rumours that you cannot bear each other, or that you cannot bear Lydia. Never mind, it's all the same now; only tell me that you are not particularly angry."

"I was at first, but I am so no longer."

"That's all I ask for. And after all, old chap, well, misunderstandings and all that sort of thing! But the blame is sure to be yours, or almost entirely yours. Why, it's always the man who is to blame, eh? I should know that much, having been married these twenty years!"

He laughed. Bertram, to change the conversation, asked where the others were.

"The ladies are on the verandah; the Baron was still in his room when I came away."

"By the by," Bertram asked, "who is this Baron? You were talking about him once or twice at table, but I confess I hardly listened."

"Lotter?" his friend said. "Look here; you'll like him immensely. Stunning fellow, Lotter. Has read every mortal thing; plays the piano; paints--portraits, landscapes, anything you like. Has come home to do some painting; studies at our academy, don't you know?--and is a constant guest at Court, of course."

"Does he belong to these parts?"

"Oh; dear no! hails from Würtemberg. A very, very old family; Lotter-Vippach. His father was a General, I believe; his uncle a Minister of State; that sort of thing, don't you know? He has been in the army himself; was in the '70 campaign. But he is a bit of a rover. Has been up and about a good deal; in Algiers, South America; that, sort of thing. I pressed him to come and stay here during the manœ vres, to help me to do the honours, as I never was in the army myself. He is awfully anxious to make your acquaintance; has read all your works and--and--but where on earth are our ladies? I'll go and look. You stop where you are; do not come out bareheaded."

The last words had already been spoken in the garden saloon, the great French windows of which, leading to the verandah, stood wide open. His host had hurried off to look for the ladies, and Bertram, left alone, strode up and down in the large, half-darkened room. Had he not, perhaps, yielded all too readily to Erna's command? If obedience was to be easy to him, nay, if it was to be at all possible for him, she ought to have stayed by his side. And now her very image was gone from his inner eye, and its place had been taken by her whom he had once so passionately loved, as if twenty years had not gone by since he last saw her, as if she had only passed a minute ago with her beautiful friend and hostess into the garden, thence to return immediately under some pretext or other, to rush to his embrace, to shower hot, passionate kisses upon him--here, in this very saloon, as she had so often, so often done--here, where the faint fragrance of violets still seemed to float, that she was so fond of, and which in those days he was ever associating with her presence!

He was standing in the semi-darkness, his back turned to the verandah; a gentle rustling sound was coming up the steps. He turned. Framed in by one of the doors against the brighter background of the evening sky, appeared the shadowy outline of a lady, lingering a moment or two on the threshold, then hastening with raised arms towards him, as he stood motionless, spellbound.

Before he could prevent it, she had sunk on her knees before him, had seized his hands which he was involuntarily stretching forth to lift her up, and now she was pressing them to her bosom, to her lips. A dense cloud of violet perfume came floating up to him.

"Mercy, Charles, mercy!"

"I entreat you, My Lady, ... for Heaven's sake ..."

He had been barely able to stammer out these words; he felt the most acute physical anguish at his heart; cold beads of perspiration stood upon his forehead; ice-cold were the hands which Lydia had held till then, and which now she dropped, terrified, rising as she did so from the ground.

"My Lady!" she murmured, "My Lady ... Ah, I knew it!"

The convulsive pain at his heart had ceased now; it beat on, but slowly, heavily; even so his anger and pain were giving way to compassion.

"Let bygones be bygones," he said.

"If it were possible!" whispered Lydia.

"It must be possible."

She knew from his gentle but firm tone that, for the moment, she dare go no farther; and though she had to confess to herself that she had been deceived in her fond hope of reconquering his affections by one grand assault at starting, something was secured anyhow, and something desirable and even necessary--a fairly satisfactory footing when they met in society.

"The dear voice!" she whispered; "the old, dear, gentle voice! But ... those hard, cruel words! Yet I have no right to complain, and I will not lament; it must, indeed, be possible!"

Much to his relief Bertram was spared the necessity of replying, for his host and hostess were just then coming in from the garden, accompanied by Erna and Baron Lotter. At the same moment a servant opened the folding-door which led to the dining-room; the two gentlemen were introduced to each other; the Baron offered his arm to the lady of the house, Lydia was clinging to the master, and thus Erna fell to Bertram's share. They were lingering a little behind the rest.

"How good you are!" whispered Erna.

"Am I?" he made answer. "I feel most contemptible."