Part 29 (2/2)

He reached a miniature lake, embosomed among proud, old firs, its surface gla.s.sy as a mirror held aloft by the nixies to the sky. Tall reeds with brown heads fringed its sh.o.r.es, and nodded to the white waterlilies reposing among their flat, green leaves. Perfect silence reigned; not only did the stately firs preserve their customary, dignified quiet, but even the leafy trees were too listless to-day to exhale their wonted 'murmur mixed with sighs.' Each leaf drooped wearily. No bird uttered a note, the stillness was as profound as in mid-winter. Nature lay motionless, no audible pulse throbbing, sunk, as it seemed, in a mysterious swoon.

Fritz sat down upon a bench rudely constructed of birch boughs, and gazed dreamily around. As always when alone, his thoughts reverted to the past, and now he smiled at a memory of langsyne. He recalled how as a child he had tried here to learn from the gardener's sons how to skip pebbles on the surface of the water. He had succeeded but ill; his pebbles all sunk directly to the bottom. He remembered too that very near this small lake there was once a little hut with a mossgrown, s.h.i.+ngled roof, resting upon four fir-tree trunks. There the little Malzins had played Robinson Crusoe; the hut had been a fort besieged by savages. Perhaps it was no longer in existence; Capriani might have had it cleared away; Fritz arose to look for it.

It was still there; he could see the gilt crescent sparkling on the gable of the old, s.h.i.+ngled roof. As he approached it he heard voices, and would have withdrawn, had he not recognized them as those of his wife and Capriani. In some irritation he drew nearer, but found nothing to justify any interference; Charlotte was sitting busy with some sewing, while the Conte was talking to her,--that was all.

When Fritz, with his pale face of disapproval appeared in the doorway of the summer-house, an ugly smile pa.s.sed over the features of the Conte. ”You come in the nick of time,” Capriani said carelessly, and without the least embarra.s.sment. ”Sit down, we were just talking about you.”

”Indeed? very kind,” murmured Fritz, taking a seat, and glancing rather sternly at his wife.

”We were just speaking of your children. Hm, my dear Malzin,”--the Conte stroked his long whiskers,--”have you laid by anything for those youngsters?”

Fritz cast down his eyes. ”How could I have done so?” he rejoined in a monotone.

”You certainly might lay by something from your present salary,” the Conte said with emphasis.

”You seem entirely to forget that I have only had my present salary for two months,” said Fritz bluntly.

The Conte bit his lip. ”Oho!” he exclaimed, ”have I offended you again?

I a.s.sure you I mean well, very well by you. Tell me your views with regard to the future of your children.”

Fritz shrugged his shoulders. ”I really have none; the poor things will have to s.h.i.+ft for themselves,” and his voice trembled.

”Of course you mean then to give them a good education, to enable them to earn their own living,” continued the Conte. ”That is all right, but allow me to ask how you mean to do this?”

Fritz pa.s.sed his hand--the white, transparent hand of consumption--wearily across his forehead. ”I hope to send my little girl to Hernals,” he began, ”where she can be educated for a governess.”

”Ah--!” the Conte looked disapproval--”a very unpractical scheme, it seems to me, very unpractical. She will become very pretentious in her ideas at Hernals, and will gain but little that can be of real service to her. Remember your circ.u.mstances, my dear fellow, remember your circ.u.mstances,--we will discuss them by-and-by. And what do you think of doing with your son?”

”Oh Franzi is still so little,” said Fritz in hopes of cutting short the conversation, the Conte's arrogant, domineering tone was most irritating, it stung him like nettles.

”All the more reason for providing for his future,” the Conte insisted, ”in consideration of the chance of your being suddenly taken from him.”

”True, true,” sighed Fritz. ”Well then, I hope to live long enough to place him in a government school for Cadets, after which through the influence of my relatives, he can obtain a commission.”

The Conte laughed contemptuously. ”Just like you!” he exclaimed, ”the same haughty, aristocratic idler as ever! You'll learn sense after a while, my dear fellow. I have thought of something for Franzi; your wife is quite agreed to it.” Charlotte who had seemed to be absorbed in her sewing, nodded.

”The Countess always takes a sensible view of affairs, she looks things in the face,” continued the Conte; ”begging your pardon, my dear fellow, there is more common-sense in her little finger than in your whole body. We will find Franzi a place in a dry-goods establishment.

The business is neither unhealthy, nor confining, and if it goes against your grain to put him in such a situation here in Austria (to speak frankly I think any such objection very petty,--my views in this respect are more enlightened) why I will see that he gets one in Paris at the _Louvre_ or at the _Printemps_; a clerk in one of those great houses often gets a yearly salary of from fifteen to twenty thousand francs!”

Fritz started to his feet and made several attempts to interrupt the Conte, but his voice failed. A singing was in his ears, his blood was coursing hotly, wildly through his veins. ”My son!” he gasped hoa.r.s.ely, ”my son, clerk in a dry-goods shop! I'd rather kill him myself!”

He felt a terrible oppression in his chest, and then came sudden relief; in an instant he grew deadly pale with bluish tints about his eyes and temples. He stretched out his hands aimlessly as if to ward off some catastrophe, not knowing why he did so,--then mechanically felt for his handkerchief, pressed it to his lips, and fell senseless on the floor.

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