Part 19 (1/2)
The Freiherr stopped pacing to and fro and stood still before the young man. ”Impossible!” he said,--”impossible! You imagine all this; you are a hypochondriac. We, Thekla and I, would have known of it.”
”Old Christian knows it,” the other rejoined. ”My mother delivered me into his care, and like a mother he has guarded me and my sad secret.
The attacks are rare, but very sudden. My fall on the Thalrode railway platform was in consequence of one of them.”
Again the Freiherr began his walk; but his step, usually so firm, was now uncertain, and his head, usually so proudly carried, was bowed.
After a while he went up to Johann Leopold, who sat buried in thought.
”It is a trial,--a terrible trial,” he said, laying his hand on the young man's shoulder; ”but I think it will be easier for you, my poor boy, if we all help you to bear it. Magelone, too, will help,--she loves you----”
”No, sir,” Johann Leopold interrupted him. ”Magelone consented only to marry the heir; but to love him----!” He smiled bitterly. ”And, even if she did, I never would consent to bind her fresh young life to mine. I love her too well for that. Apart, indeed, from all personal considerations, how could I consent to taint the pure blood of the Donninghausens with the poison of epilepsy?”
”The pure blood of the Donninghausens.” The most powerful chord in the old Freiherr's soul vibrated to these words; at the same time they made the grandson, whose thoughts were so after his own heart, doubly dear to him and the desire to help him all the more fervent. He sat down beside him and took his hand.
”Diseases can be cured,” he said again. ”What is the lauded advance of science, if it can be of no service here? Did you speak of this to Dr.
Werner?”
”Yes; his verdict is 'incurable,'” the other replied.
The Freiherr sprang to his feet. ”Nonsense! How can he know that?” he cried, angrily. ”Dr. Werner is young, inexperienced. We must consult distinguished authorities. I will go with you to Paris, to London, to Vienna,--wherever you choose.”
”I thank you,” the young man rejoined. ”Your sympathy and kindness do me good; but I entreat you to spare yourself and me the pain of any such consultations. Quiet--ease of mind, as Werner says--is the only preservative against the attacks, and this I can find, not in any medical advice, but in absence,--in separation from Magelone.”
The Freiherr was silent for a while, and then said, ”Have you any plan of travel?”
”Yes; I should like to join Werner and go to India with him.”
The Freiherr turned short upon him again: ”To India? In your condition the fatigue of the journey, the influence of the climate----”
”All better for me than staying here,” Johann Leopold interrupted him, and his pale face flushed for an instant. After a pause he went on more calmly: ”I have been corresponding with Dr. Werner about it. He made at first the same objections that you make; but he finally acknowledged that my morbid desire for just this journey is perhaps a true instinct,--a suggestion of nature.”
The Freiherr breathed more freely. ”There, you see,--a suggestion of nature. Then Dr. Werner thinks your recovery possible. And it is so; you _must_ be well. Yes, my lad, go,--go as soon as you choose; and if I can be of any service to you, rely upon me.”
”If you would have an eye upon Moorgarten and Elgerode I should be greatly obliged to you.”
”Certainly I will; refer your people to me,” said the Freiherr. ”But I have one condition to make: we will explain that you are ill, and are to travel in search of health. What your illness is must remain our secret.
If you come back well, it need never be known.”
Johann Leopold pa.s.sed his hand across his brow and eyes with his own peculiar gesture of weariness. ”Magelone must be told.”
”Least of all Magelone!” cried his grandfather. ”If she cannot be spared it always--well, then she must endure it; but let her hope as long as she can. She deserves it at your hands. She loves you. I saw that plainly while you were ill.”
The young man smiled bitterly again, arose, and went to the window. Before him lay the park, with its lindens of a hundred years, which had shaded his childish games; beyond it soared the mountain-peaks,--Eichberg, Klettberg, and Elbenhohe,--with their magnificent forests and hunting-grounds, which he had been taught from infancy to regard as his inheritance, and for the care of which he felt himself responsible, as well as for the villagers nestling in the valley under the protection of the ancient castle of Donninghausen.
To resign it all voluntarily was hard; and yet how much harder was it to resign his claim--superficial although it were--upon Magelone! He had long been convinced that it must be done, but he had always shrank and hesitated. Ludwig's words--'Never delay where the knife is necessary'--occurred to him. He would not any longer keep himself and others in useless suspense.
”Grandfather,” he said, in a tone of forced composure, ”it would be best to put a speedy end to it all,--to give me up as a forlorn hope. Let the heirs.h.i.+p devolve upon Otto; and Magelone----”
”The heirs.h.i.+p to Otto!” the Freiherr interposed, in a voice of thunder.
”Never, so long as I have a voice in the matter! That would be certain ruin for Donninghausen. Remember. Scarcely two years ago Otto made away with everything he had inherited from his mother, and think of the debts I have paid for him since!”