CHAPTER XVIII.

The arrival of the guests up at the chateau had brought some animation to that divided household, but it had hardly drawn the young couple more closely together. Although the visitors' stay was limited to a few days, Arthur continually found pretexts and opportunities for withdrawing from their society, an attention for which his father and brother-in-law were both sincerely grateful.

The Baron was but now returning after a sojourn of several weeks on the Rabenau property, his own from this time forth. Notwithstanding the frightful catastrophe which had occurred on the occasion of his first visit, he had been forced to leave his daughter on the following morning, a nearer duty calling him to his cousin's grave. Even when the last offices were over, there remained much to be set in order, and the heir's presence had been indispensable.

He was now returning in company of his eldest son, whom he had sent for to join him, and, this time also, they made the short detour round by the Berkow estates, all the more readily that the young Baron Conrad had not seen his sister since her marriage.

More was intended by this visit than a mere family meeting, or so it appeared from a conversation which took place in Eugenie's boudoir on the day after their arrival, Arthur being absent as usual. His wife sat on the sofa listening to her father, who was standing before her, and just winding up a long peroration, while Conrad, leaning against a chair at a little distance from them, watched his sister with a look of eager expectation.

Eugenie sat resting her head on her hand so as to shade her face. When her father ceased speaking, she did not alter her position or look up, but replied in a low voice:

"No hints or allusions are needed for me to understand what you mean, papa. You are speaking of a separation."

"Yes, my dear," said the Baron, earnestly, "to a separation, no matter under what pretext, or at what cost. What is obtained by force must be kept by force, the Berkows should have remembered that. Now that I am once more master of my own actions, that I need be their debtor no longer, I will employ every means to free you from those chains which you took upon yourself solely on my account, and which, deny it as you may, are making you wretched in the extreme."

Eugenie did not answer. Her father took her hand and sat down by her.

"The thought is new to you and takes you by surprise? It flashed upon me directly I received the weighty news which brought about such an unexpected change in our circumstances. At that time it would have been difficult to realise it. The elder Berkow had left nothing undone to secure an alliance with our family. It was out of the question that he should consent to a dissolution of the marriage, for that would have shut him out from those circles to which he hoped to gain access through us; and with such a man as he, capable of anything in his utter unscrupulousness, we could not well proceed to open fight. His death put an end to all the difficulties at a blow, for his son's resistance can be got over. He has played a merely passive role throughout the business, and simply lent himself to be his father's tool. He will yield, I hope, to energetic action on our part."

"He will yield," affirmed Eugenie under her breath. "Have no fear on that score."

"So much the better!" replied Windeg. "We shall attain our end the more speedily."

He was, it seemed, desirous of pushing forward to that end without loss of time, and such was indeed the fact. To the poor nobleman, heavily laden with debt, there had been no choice left but to accept Eugenie's sacrifice, and so save his own and his sons' name and position; whatever it may have cost him, he bent to a hard necessity, and the very necessity of the case taught him how to bear it.

But, to the Lord of Rabenau, who had regained complete independence, and with it all his old sense of dignity, who could pay back with ease the sums he had received, this bond of restraint appeared a burning disgrace, and he looked upon his daughter's marriage as an act of injustice committed to her prejudice, and which he must repair at any cost. During his stay at Rabenau this thought had haunted him, and had gradually shaped itself into a plan which was now ripe for execution.

"It will certainly meet both your wishes and ours that this painful affair should be entered into and settled as quickly as possible," he continued. "I was going to propose that you should accompany us to the city under some pretext or other, and, when there, take the necessary steps to accomplish it. You need simply refuse to return to your husband, and insist upon a separation. We will take care that he does not make good his claims by force."

"Yes, by Jove, that we will, Eugenie!" broke in Conrad passionately. "If he should find he has made a bargain to his liking, and refuse to give it up, your brothers will compel him to yield at the point of the sword. He cannot threaten us now with shame and public humiliation as his father did. That was the only thing the Windegs feared, the only argument by which a daughter of their house could ever have been won from them."

His sister stopped him almost impatiently.

"There is no occasion for threats. Con, and none for your anxiety, papa. Both are equally uncalled for. That which you expect to have to fight for and win by force has long been a settled thing between Arthur and myself."

Windeg started up, and Conrad came a step nearer impetuously in his surprise.

Eugenie strove to give firmness to her voice, but she could not succeed; it quivered audibly as she went on:

"Before Herr Berkow's death we had come to an agreement about it, but we wished to avoid the eclat of too early and sudden a rupture, and so we imposed on ourselves the restraint of living for a time under the same roof."

"Before Berkow's death?" interrupted her brother. "Why, that was soon after you were married!"

"So you introduced the subject yourself?" said the Baron with equal animation. "Did you insist upon it?"

They neither of them seemed to understand the pain which was so plainly written on the young wife's face. She called up all her self-command and answered steadily.

"I never alluded to the matter. Arthur voluntarily offered me a separation."

The Baron and his son looked at one another, as though such a piece of intelligence overstepped their powers of comprehension.

"Indeed! I was not prepared for that," said the Baron, at last, slowly. "He himself! I should not have expected it!"

"No matter," cried Conrad with a sudden burst of tenderness, "no matter, so long as he gives you back to us, Eugenie. We have none of us been able to take any pleasure in the inheritance which has come to us, because we knew that you have been made unhappy for our sakes. My father will not be fairly at ease in the new life until you come back, no more will any of us. We have missed you so in everything."

He threw his arm round his sister, and she hid her face for a few seconds on his shoulder. It was as deadly white and cold in its beauty as it had been when she stood before the altar; yet now she was on the eve of returning to her father's house, from which she had that day been torn away.

The Baron looked at his daughter in some surprise, as she now raised her head and passed her handkerchief over her brow.

"Excuse me, papa, if I seem rather strange to-day. I am not quite well, not well enough, that is, to discuss this subject. You must let me go to my room, I"----

"You have had too much to bear of late," said her father tenderly. "I see it, my dear, even though you will not confess it. Go, and leave all to my care. I will spare you as much as possible."

"It is odd though, is it not, sir?" said the young Baron, as the door closed behind his sister. "Do you understand this Berkow? I don't."

Windeg paced up and down the room with a frown on his brow. He was not merely surprised, but wounded in his pride by this disclosure. To the aristocrat it had seemed quite explicable that a parvenu owning millions of money should employ all the means at his disposal, hesitating neither at intrigue nor sacrifice, to obtain a connection with himself, even though such endeavours were met with unbounded hatred and contempt. But that his plebeian son-in-law should have received the hand of a Baroness Windeg with perfect equanimity, as if there had been nothing extraordinary in such a marriage; that, as time went on, he should have shown himself as insensible to the honour done him as his father was the reverse;--these were things he never could forgive. And now this man, this Arthur Berkow, retired from the connection of his own free will, before any inducement to do so had been held out to him. This was too much for the haughty Windeg. He had been eager to struggle for, to re-conquer, his daughter's freedom, but that he should owe it to her husband's generosity or indifference was intolerable to him.

"I will speak to Berkow," he said presently, "and if he really does agree, which I doubt, in spite of what Eugenie has told us, we must set to work without delay."

"Without delay?" asked Conrad. "They have hardly been married three months, and I think they are right in wishing to avoid too early a rupture."

"No doubt they are, and I should give my complete approval, if I had not other reasons of my own for hurrying on the affair. Things are not as they should be here on the works. I have received a hint from a friendly source that these disturbances, which have broken out among the hands employed, may inflict a deadly injury upon the Berkow property, enormous as it is supposed to be. If a crash should come, his wife could hardly leave him at such a moment; for the sake of public opinion she must stay on. Though we have deeper and far more serious reasons for desiring a separation, his ruin would be looked upon as the real cause, and that must not be. Better we should be thought to stir in the matter prematurely than suffer our hands to be tied, as they would be, should a catastrophe occur. A vast undertaking like this does not fall to pieces in a few weeks. It would take a year at least, and in half that time a divorce may be obtained, if he puts no difficulties in the way. Eugenie must return to our house, must be free again, before the state of things here gets known in the city."

"I should have thought my sister would have taken up the idea more cheerfully and with greater zest," said Conrad meditatively. "To be sure, if they had settled the matter before between themselves, there was nothing in it new to her, but she seems as quiet and silent about it, as if it were no concern of hers, as if her liberty did not depend upon it."

The Baron shrugged his shoulders.

"She does not like the thought of the unavoidable talk it will excite, of all the unpleasant details of the law-suit which cannot be spared her. It is always a painful step for a woman to take, and yet it must be taken. In this case we shall, at any rate, have the whole city on our side. It was unfortunately no secret why this marriage was arranged, and but little surprise can be felt that we should hasten to dissolve it."

"Here comes Berkow," whispered Conrad, as the door of the adjoining room was opened. "You wish to speak to him. Shall I leave you together?"

Windeg shook his head.

"You are the eldest son of our house, and at such discussions the presence of a third person often acts as a wholesome restraint. Stay here, Conrad."

While these words were being quickly exchanged in a low voice, Arthur had crossed the ante-room. He came in now, and the greetings on either side were polite and frigid as usual. The conversation began with the customary flowers of rhetoric. The guests regretted they should enjoy so little of their host's company, the latter put forth as an excuse the accumulation of business which deprived him of the pleasure, etc., mutual formalities believed in by neither party, but behind which each sheltered himself as affording, at least, some subject matter for talk.

"I hope Eugenie's constant company will make up to you for my enforced absence," continued Arthur, glancing through the salon as though in quest of his wife.

"Eugenie is slightly indisposed; she has just left us," returned the Baron, "and I should be glad to make use of this opportunity to express to you a wish of mine, the fulfilment of which depends mainly on yourself."

"If its fulfilment depends on me, you have but to command."

The young man took up a position opposite his father-in-law, while Conrad, who knew what was coming, withdrew, as though accidentally, into a window recess, and appeared to be steadfastly gazing out on the terrace below.

Windeg's bearing was full of stately calm and aristocratic dignity. He desired to be as impressive as possible, and so do away at once with any possible resistance on the part of his daughter's plebeian husband; for he looked upon Arthur's offer of a separation, at the most, as a hasty speech made in a moment of passion. He could not believe it to be serious.

"People seem to attach a greater degree of importance to this revolutionary movement on your estates than it probably has in reality," he began. "As I came by the town yesterday and paid a visit to the commandant of the garrison there, a very old friend of mine, the feeling among the hands over here was described to me as most dangerous, and an outbreak of disturbances was said to be extremely probable."

"They appear to take more interest in my works and in my people than I had supposed," said Arthur, coldly. "I have, at all events, not besought the Colonel for help in case of need."

The Baron understood the hint.

"As for me, of course, I can form no opinion on the subject," he replied quickly. "I only wished to draw your attention to the fact that there would be impropriety in exposing Eugenie to any such possible scenes of disorder. It is my desire to take my daughter with me to the city, just for a time, until the situation here has cleared a little."

A shade fell on the young man's face. Again he cast a quick glance over to the door which led to his wife's apartments, as though trying to divine whether the wish came from her. His reply was quite calm, however.

"Eugenie is mistress of her own actions. If she considers it necessary to leave she is perfectly at liberty to do so."

Windeg, highly pleased, bent his head affirmatively.

"She will accompany us then to-morrow morning. As to the length of her absence, there we approach a subject which is equally painful to us both, but I prefer to touch upon it by word of mouth, particularly as I know our wishes to be identical with regard to the main point at issue."

Arthur seemed about to start from his chair, but he controlled himself and kept his seat.

"Oh! so Eugenie has already been making communications to you?"

"Yes, does that surprise you? Her father would, of course, be the first person in whom she would confide."

Arthur's lips twitched nervously.

"I supposed that the matter would remain between ourselves until the time for action had arrived. I see I was wrong."

"Why postpone things when once a decision has been come to?" asked the Baron quietly. "The present time is most favourable for carrying it into execution. The existing state of affairs here affords the best, the most unexceptional pretext for my daughter's leaving. It need not be known at first that she is leaving definitively. In these summer months, when every one is away from the city, the preliminary steps can be taken with least notice. When an eclat cannot be avoided, it is preferable to give people at once an actual event to talk about. In that way gossip is soonest exhausted."

A long pause followed. Arthur looked again, this time with rather an enigmatical expression, at the door of his wife's apartments; then he turned slowly to her father.

"Did the wish that this affair should be hurried on come from Eugenie herself?"

The Baron thought proper to withhold the truth on this occasion. By so doing, he would attain his end more quickly, and Eugenie would certainly be grateful to him for it.

"I speak in my daughter's name," he declared gravely.

Arthur rose suddenly, and so hastily that his chair was thrown to the ground.

"I consent to everything, Baron, to everything! I thought I had explained to your daughter my reasons in favour of a delay. They were entirely dictated by consideration for herself, and did not concern me in any way. If, notwithstanding these, she still desires to hasten on the matter--be it so!"

The tone in which these words were spoken was so peculiar, that Conrad, who had all along been apparently intent on the terrace below, although, in reality, he had not lost a word of the discussion, turned round suddenly and looked at his brother-in-law in astonishment.

Windeg himself felt surprised. What reason was there for any show of temper? He simply wished that a tie, burdensome to both parties, should be loosed a little earlier than had been intended.

"You fully agree to a separation then?" he asked, a little uncertain.

"Fully."

The Baron breathed freely. So Eugenie had been right in declaring that her husband would consent at once. What remained to be settled would, he thought, hardly present a difficulty.

"I am very much indebted to you for meeting me thus," said he politely. "It will facilitate matters for both sides. There is one other thing which I must mention, though it has no bearing upon the subject in hand. Your father"--the present Lord of Rabenau flushed crimson at the remembrance--"your father was good enough to take up certain obligations of mine which I was not then in a position to discharge. I am able to do so now, and I should wish as speedily as possible"----

He paused, for Arthur had turned his eyes full upon him with a look which forbade him to go on.

"Had we not better let this subject rest? I really must beg that it may not be touched upon."

"It might be allowed to rest so long as our mutual relations subsisted," returned Windeg gravely, "but not when they cease to exist. You will not oblige me to remain your debtor?"

"There was no question here of a debt in the ordinary sense of the word. Those obligations, which my father agreed to meet were, in reality, held by himself alone. The documents relating to the transaction were destroyed, so far as I know, when"--here the young man's extreme irritation broke for an instant through his enforced calm--"when you paid the price for them."

The Baron rose offended.

"The marriage was concluded at that time, in pursuance, certainly, of Herr Berkow's wish; it is now about to be dissolved, more particularly at our desire. The circumstances are completely reversed."

"Is it absolutely necessary that we should keep up the business point of view and make a bargain of the divorce also?" interrupted Arthur with cutting sarcasm. "I hope that I and my wife may not be made the subject of traffic a second time. Once was quite sufficient."

The Baron altogether misunderstood these words, as he also misunderstood the agitation which prompted them. He answered with his haughtiest air.

"Remember, if you please, Herr Berkow, that the word traffic, which you are pleased to employ, can only have reference to one of the parties concerned. It cannot apply to us."

Arthur stepped back; his attitude was proud and dignified, such as the nobleman opposite him could but rarely assume.

"I know now how this marriage was brought about, and I know too how those obligations came to exist which forced you into giving your consent. You will therefore understand why it is I request that not another syllable may be said about this debt. I require of you, Baron, that you do not make a son blush for his father's memory."

Once before Windeg had been disconcerted by his son-in-law's behaviour, on the occasion when the latter had thought fit to decline the peerage offered him, but that had been done in a cool, half negligent manner, and quite in the former Arthur Berkow's style. The present scene and the way in which he now bore himself fairly petrified the Baron. Involuntarily he glanced at his son, who had come out of the recess, and on whose youthful countenance was depicted a boundless astonishment which he gave himself no trouble to conceal.

"I was not aware you viewed the matter in that light," said Windeg at last "It was not my intention to wound your feelings."

"I suppose not, so we will let the subject drop into the past. With regard to the divorce, I will give my solicitor instructions to meet yours in a friendly spirit, and to render him any assistance in his power. Should a personal application to myself be necessary at any time, pray consider me as quite at your disposal I will do all I can to bring the matter to an end as speedily and with as little unpleasantness as possible."

He bowed to both gentlemen and left the room. In an instant young Conrad was at his father's side.

"What can it all mean? What, in the name of goodness, has come over this Arthur Berkow during the last three months? I thought yesterday evening he was graver and had a more decided way with him than formerly, but I never should have imagined he would be capable of behaving with so much dignity."

The Baron had not yet recovered from his astonishment. His son's exclamation roused him. "He really appears not to have been aware of the part his father was acting towards us. That certainly alters the case," said he in some confusion. "If only he had not required me to remain in his debt!"

"He does perfectly right," said Conrad, firing up, "now that he knows by what a system of usury Berkow drove us to our ruin. Not a quarter of the prodigious sums, afterwards arrayed against us, was ever advanced or expended by him in buying up those bills, and not a penny can the son receive if he will not bring dishonour on himself too. One could see that he was filled with shame at the whole disgraceful story. But this interview of ours took a very strange turn. The painful, the humiliating role in it was, unquestionably, his, and yet he managed to make us feel almost ashamed of our offer."

Windeg seemed disposed to take this last observation rather ungraciously, perhaps because he could not gainsay it.

"If we were unjust to him before, I am ready now to do him full justice," said he, "and the more so that we really owe him some thanks for his conduct with regard to this divorce business. I did not expect it would be so easy, notwithstanding the indifference he has always shown about the marriage."

Conrad's face again assumed a meditative expression, which, certainly, was not proper to it.

"I don't know, sir; it strikes me that the thing is by no means so settled. Berkow was far from being as calm as he tried to appear, and it was the same with Eugenie. There was no indifference in that violent start of his when you declared that she insisted on an immediate separation, and in Eugenie's face, when she left us, there was still less. A very odd idea has occurred to me in consequence!"

The Baron smiled with great superiority.

"You are quite a child still in some things. Con, in spite of your epaulets and your twenty years. Do you imagine that the determination which, as it now appears, they have both long since come to, could have arisen without previous quarrels and unpleasantness? Eugenie has suffered much from these scenes; perhaps Berkow may have suffered also. What you so sagely remarked was the reverberation of storms gone by, nothing more. Thank God, there is plain sailing between us now, and the storms are over for good and all."

"Or perhaps they are only just beginning!" said Conrad to himself under his breath, as he left the room with his father.