Part 45 (2/2)

At the window of his room, which was in an upper story, stood Hartmut, gazing out into the desolate forest, which glittered so ghostly in the dim starlight. Yesterday had brought the first snow, and now everything was stiff in its cold embrace. The large lawn in front of the castle was deeply covered; the trees bent heavily under their white burden, and the broad branches of the firs were bowed to the ground.

Up there in the dark night sky, star after star shone in calm splendor, and far off on the northern horizon dawned a slight rosy light, like the first greeting of the dawn. And yet it was night cold, icy cold, winter night, in which as yet no ray of the coming day could fall.

Hartmut's eyes were riveted upon the mysterious glow. In his heart, too, it was dark, and yet something dawned there, fair and low, like the dawn of the morn. He had not seen Adelaide von Wallmoden since that fatal hour upon the forest height, until he met her to-day at the side of her husband, who had been borne, bleeding and unconscious--dying--into the castle.

This sight forced back every remembrance, and demanded a.s.sistance to the extent of his power. He had not entered the death chamber, and had only received the doctor's report; neither had he appeared upon Frau von Eschenhagen's arrival, but later on had spoken with the Chief Forester and Willibald. Now everything was decided. Herbert von Wallmoden was no longer among the living, and his wife was a widow--was free.

A deep breath agitated Hartmut's breast at the thought, and yet nothing joyful was in it, although his feelings had undergone a change since the hour he ventured his highest stake and--lost.

But that hour had proved to him the deep abyss which was open between them even now that the bond of Adelaide's marriage was broken. She had ”shuddered” before the man who believed in nothing--to whom nothing was sacred, and he was the same man he had been then.

He had offered an apology without words in the creation of the added portion of Arivana which bore her name, but Ada had floated back to the heights from which she had come with her cry of warning, and mankind, with their glowing hate and love, remained upon earth.

Hartmut Rojanow could not force the hot, wild blood which flowed in his veins into a quiet movement; he could not bow to a life full of strict obedience and duty--neither did he wish to. For what had the genius which won his way everywhere been given him, if it could not lift him over the duties and barriers of every-day life?

And yet he knew that those large, blue eyes pointed inexorably to the hated path--that would never do.

The red glimmer over the forest yonder had turned darker and risen higher. It looked like the reflection of a powerful fire; but that calm, steady light came from no fire. Immovable it stood in the north; mysterious, high, and far removed--an aurora in approaching splendor.

The rolling of a carriage coming near in great haste broke Hartmut from his revery. It was past nine o'clock; who could arrive at such an hour?

Perhaps it was the second physician who had been sent for in the afternoon, but who had been away from home; perhaps some one from Ostwalden, where the news may have already been carried.

Now the carriage turned the corner of the lawn; the wheels crunched upon the hard, frozen ground, and the vehicle reached the main entrance of the castle.

Rojanow, who to-day represented the master of the house, left his room and started to meet the new arrival. He had reached the stairs which led down to the entrance hall, and put his foot upon the first step, when he suddenly shuddered and remained rooted to the spot.

Down there a voice spoke which he had not heard for ten long years; it was suppressed, and yet he recognized it at the first moment.

”I come from the Emba.s.sy. We received a dispatch this afternoon, and I took the first train to hasten here. How is he? Can I see Herr von Wallmoden?”

Stadinger, who had received the newcomer, replied in such low tones that the import of his words was lost to Hartmut, but the stranger asked hastily: ”I do not come too late?”

”Yes, mein Herr. Herr von Wallmoden died this afternoon.”

A short pause followed, then the stranger said, huskily but firmly: ”Lead me to the widow--announce Colonel von Falkenried.”

Stadinger turned to go, followed by a tall figure in a military cloak, of which one could see only the outlines in the dimly-lighted hall.

The two figures had long ago disappeared in the lower rooms, and still Hartmut stood leaning on the bal.u.s.ter, looking downward. Only when Stadinger returned alone did he collect himself and retire to his room.

Here he walked restlessly for a quarter of an hour. It was a hard, silent conflict which he waged. He had never been able to bend his pride; had never humbled himself, but he had to bow low before his deeply offended father--he knew that. But again a burning, absorbing longing overcame him, becoming all-powerful and finally conquering. He drew himself up resolutely.

”No, I will not shrink like a coward now. We are under one roof; the same walls surround us; now it shall be ventured. He is my father and I am his son.”

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