Part 16 (1/2)
CHAPTER VI.
The little mountain of Hochberg rose about half way between Furstenstein and Rodeck. It was celebrated, and justly, for the fine and extensive view which could be obtained from its highest point. An ancient stone tower, all that now remained of a castle long since fallen into decay, stood upon the extreme summit.
A few peasants, more zealous than their neighbors, had built a little inn or house of rest and refreshment at its base. They made a pretense of keeping the mountain roads in order, and demanded a fair toll from the stray tourist who came to climb the winding tower stairs.
Strangers came but seldom, however, into this wild, unknown mountain region. In the autumn especially, visitors were few and far between.
This bright, warm September day had, however, proved seductive. Two gentlemen on horseback, attended by a groom, had dismounted at the door and gone up into the little tower, and they had been followed, a half hour later, by some guests from the neighborhood, who had driven up the mountain-side in a light carriage.
The gentlemen were now standing on a little stone platform of the tower, and one of them was talking eagerly and excitedly as he called his companion's attention to certain newly-discovered beauties in the landscape. ”Yes, our Hochberg is celebrated, there's no doubt of that,”
he said finally. ”I felt I must show it to you, Hartmut. Do you not think the view across this far green ocean of forest is unparalleled?”
Hartmut did not answer. He seemed to be searching for some particular place through his field gla.s.s.
”In which direction does Furstenstein lie? Ah, I see, over yonder. It seems to be an immense old building.”
”Yes, the castle is well worth seeing,” said Prince Adelsberg. ”You were quite right, though, day before yesterday, to refuse to accompany me there. The visit worried me to death.”
”Indeed! You spoke very enthusiastically of the head forester to me.”
”Yes, I always enjoy a chat with him, but he had gone driving, worse luck, and only returned just as I was leaving. His son is not at Furstenstein either, he's at college studying forestry, and so I was entertained by the daughter of the house, Fraulein Antonie von Schonau.
I had a weary hour, I can a.s.sure you. A word every five minutes, and a minute getting that one out. She's a fine housewife, I fancy, with no brains for anything beyond. It was up hill work talking to her, and no mistake; then I had the honor of meeting her lover. A genuine, unsophisticated country squire, with a very energetic mother, who evidently has both him and her future daughter-in-law well under her control. Oh, we had a highly intellectual conversation, which ended in their asking my advice about the culture of turnips--I'm so well up in turnips, you know. Just then, happily, the head forester and his brother-in-law, Baron Wallmoden, returned.”
Rojanow still held the field gla.s.s to his eyes, and was seemingly indifferent to his friend's gossip. Now he said in a questioning tone, ”Wallmoden?”
”The new Prussian amba.s.sador to our court. A genuine diplomatist, too, if I may judge from appearances; aristocratic, cold, dignified and reserved to the last degree, but good form, very good form. His wife, the baroness, was not visible, but I bore her absence with resignation, for he's a white-haired elderly man, and I doubt not his wife's of the same stripe.”
Hartmut's lip curled as he took the gla.s.s down from his eyes. He had not mentioned his meeting with Frau von Wallmoden. Why not forget the very name as soon as possible?
”Our romantic loneliness will soon end, Herr von Schonau tells me,”
continued Egon. ”The whole court is coming to Furstenstein for the hunting season, and I can count on a visit from the duke. He'll come over to Rodeck as soon as he arrives. I'm not overjoyed, I can tell you, for my respected uncle will preach at me about my morals in a way poor Stadinger never thought of doing, and I'll have to stand it, too. At any rate Hartmut, I can take this opportunity to present you.”
”If you think it necessary, and the etiquette of the court permits.”
”Bah! The etiquette won't be so strictly observed here, and besides the Rojanows belong to one of the Bojarin families of your country.”
”Certainly.”
”Well then, there's nothing to prevent your being presented. I am very anxious to have the duke meet you, then I'll tell him about your 'Arivana,' and as soon as he hears your play, he'll have it put on the court stage. I've no question of it.”
The words conveyed the deep, almost pa.s.sionate admiration which the prince had for his friend. The latter only shrugged his shoulders as he replied carelessly:
”That is possible, if you intercede for me, but I do not want to owe my success to any man's efforts in my behalf. I am no poet of repute; I scarcely know whether I am a poet at all or not, and if my work cannot make its own way I shall not force it on the world.”
”You'll be obstinate enough to let a fine opportunity slip, that's like you. Have you no ambition?”
”Only too much, I fear; perhaps that's the origin of what you call my obstinacy. I have never been able to subordinate myself and conform to the rules of every day life, and as to the restrictions and trammels of your German courts, I could not adjust myself to them.”