Under a Charm. Vol. III

Under a Charm. Vol. III
E. Werner

E. Werner

Under a Charm: A Novel. Vol. III

PART THE SECOND

(Continued.)

CHAPTER XI

The border-station lay, as has already been mentioned, only half a league distant from the frontier, in the midst of some of the thickest plantations on the Wilicza land. The building, which was large and even handsome, had been erected by the late Herr Nordeck at no inconsiderable cost; but there was a desolate, decayed look about the place, nothing whatever having been done towards its preservation or repair, either by master or tenant, for the last twenty years. The present forester owed his position solely to the Princess Baratowska's favour, that lady having taken advantage of the vacancy caused by his predecessor's death to advance one of her own supporters to the post. Osiecki had now filled it for three years. His frequent encroachments and somewhat negligent performance of his duties were altogether overlooked by his mistress, because she knew that the forester was devoted to her personally, and that she could count on him in any circumstances. Hitherto, Osiecki had but rarely been brought in contact with his master, and, on the whole, had followed with fair exactness the instructions received from him. Waldemar himself came but very rarely to the lonely, outlying station. It was only during the last few weeks that the perpetual conflicts between the foresters and the military stationed on the frontier had obliged him to interfere.

It was still to all appearances midwinter. The house and forest stood laden with snow in the dim light which fell from a heavy overcast sky. The ranger had assembled all his troop–five or six foresters under his orders, and some woodmen. They were all standing with their guns thrown over their shoulders, evidently waiting for the master's coming; but it certainly did not look as though they were ready to obey and peaceably to quit the station, as Waldemar had commanded. The dark defiant faces of the men augured nothing good, and the ranger's appearance fully justified the assertion that he was 'capable of anything.' These people, who lived from year's end to year's end in the solitude of the woods, were not very punctilious in their notions of duty, cared little for either law or order; and Osiecki especially was notorious for the liberty of action he allowed himself, following generally the promptings of his own arbitrary will.

Nevertheless, they as yet preserved a respectful attitude, for before them stood the young Countess Morynska. She had thrown back her mantle. Her beautiful face betrayed nothing of the struggle and torture she had gone through but an hour or two ago; it was only very grave now, and coldly severe.

"You have brought us to an evil pass, Osiecki," she said. "You should have been careful not to attract suspicion or attention to the station, instead of which you quarrel with the patrols, and imperil everything by your indiscreet conduct. The Princess is extremely displeased with you. I come in her name once more emphatically to forbid any acts of violence whatever, no matter against whom. This time you must make up your mind to obey. Your ill-judged proceedings have done harm enough."

The reproach made an evident impression on the forester. He looked down, and there was something almost apologetic in his voice as he answered with mingled defiance and contrition–

"Well, it is done now. I could not hold back my men this time–nor myself either, for that matter. If the Princess, or you, my lady, knew what it is for us to lie here quiet day by day, while the fighting is going on out yonder, to look on at the doings of those soldier fellows and not to be allowed to stir a finger, though we have our loaded rifles in our hands! It would wear out any man's patience, and ours broke down the day before yesterday. If I did not know that we are wanted here, we should all have been over yonder with our own people long ago. Prince Baratowski is only a couple of hours from the frontier; it would not be hard to find the way to him."

"You will stop here!" replied Wanda, with decision. "You know my father's orders. The station is to be held, come what may, and for that reason you are more necessary to us here than out yonder at the seat of war. Prince Baratowski has men enough at his disposal. But now to the main point. Herr Nordeck is coming here to-day."

"Yes, yes," said the ranger, with a sneer. "He means to make us obey, he says. We are to go over to Wilicza, where he will have us constantly under his eye, where we cannot lift a hand without having him behind us, looking over our shoulders. Yes, he is a good one to command, is Nordeck; but the question is whether just at this time he will find any one to obey him. He had better bring a whole regiment of soldiers with him, if he wants to drive us out of the station–else it is not certain but the thing may take a bad turn."

"What do you mean by that?" asked the young Countess, slowly. "Are you forgetting that Waldemar Nordeck is your mistress's son?"

"Prince Baratowski is her son and our master," the forester broke forth; "and it is a shame that she and all of us should have to obey this German, just because his father forced his way in among us twenty years ago, and got possession of the Morynski estates and of a Countess Morynska for his wife. It was bad enough that she should have to put up with that man for years; but now the son gives her still more bitter bread to eat–we know well enough what terms they are on. If she were to lose him, she would not grieve much more than she did for his father, and it would be the best thing that could happen to the whole family. Then the orders from the Castle need not be given in secret; the Princess would reign, and our young Prince would be the heir and the master of Wilicza, as he should be of right."

Wanda turned pale. The unhappy position in which mother and son stood to each other had already so made its baneful influence felt that their subordinates could calculate in cold blood what advantages Waldemar's death would bring to his nearest relatives, that they reckoned on the Princess's forgiveness, to whatever extremity they might resort. There was here something more to check and subdue than an outbreak of momentary fury and irritation. Wanda saw her worst fears confirmed; but she knew that by no word, no look must she betray her inward anxiety. She was held in respect only as Count Morynski's daughter, as the Princess's niece, and no doubt was felt that she spoke in the name of the latter. If once the motive were guessed which had really brought her hither, there would be an end to her authority, and she would lose all chance of protecting Waldemar.

"Do not venture to lay hands on your master," she said, imperiously, but as calmly as though she were actually fulfilling her mission. "Happen what may, the Princess desires that her son may be spared, his safety ensured at any cost. Let the man who dares to attack him look to himself! You will obey, Osiecki–obey unconditionally. Once already you have angered her with your disobedience. Do not attempt it a second time."

The forester struck his gun impatiently on the floor, and there was an uneasy movement among the bystanders who had hitherto listened to the conversation in silence; yet no one ventured to offer opposition–no one even murmured. The command had been sent to them by the Princess, who was the one authority they recognised. Wanda would have gained her end, if more time had been granted her in which to work on the men's minds; but, hasten hither as she might, she had only been able to obtain an advance of a few minutes on Waldemar. At this moment his sledge drove up outside. All eyes were turned to the window. The young Countess started.

"Already? Open the side door quickly for me, Osiecki. Say no syllable to betray my presence here. I will go as soon as Herr Nordeck has left."

The forester obeyed with all haste. He knew that Countess Morynska must on no account be seen here by the master–else all their secrets would be betrayed. Wanda stepped quickly into a small and dimly lighted chamber, and the door was at once closed upon her.

It was high time. Two minutes later Waldemar appeared in the room she had just left. He stopped on the threshold and took a steady look at the circle of foresters who had grouped themselves around the ranger, their rifles in their hands. The sight was not an encouraging one for the young master, who came thus alone among them with the view of reducing the rebels to submission; but his face was quite unmoved, and his voice rang out firm and clear as he said, turning to the ranger–

"I did not announce my coming to you, Osiecki; but you seem to be prepared for it."

"Yes, Herr Nordeck, we were expecting you," was the laconic reply.

"Armed? in such an attitude? What are you doing with your rifles? Lay them down."

Countess Morynska's warning must have had some effect, for they obeyed. The ranger was the first to put down his weapon; but he placed it well within reach of his hand, and the others followed his example. Waldemar now advanced into the middle of the room.

"I have come to ask for an explanation of a mistake which occurred yesterday, Osiecki," he said. "My orders could not be misunderstood, I sent them in writing; but the messenger who brought your reply cannot have understood his errand. What did you really commission him to say to me?"

This was going straight to the root of the matter. The short, precise question was not to be evaded; it demanded an answer equally precise. Yet the forester hesitated. He had not the courage to repeat to his master's face that which he had yesterday charged his messenger to declare.

"I am the border-ranger," said he, at last, "and I mean to remain so while I am in your service, Herr Nordeck. I am responsible for my station, therefore I must have the management of it, and no one else."

"But you have shown that you are not capable of managing it," replied Waldemar, gravely. "You either cannot, or will not, hold your men in check. I warned you repeatedly on two former occasions when excesses had been committed. That affair of the day before yesterday was the third, and it will be the last."

"I can't keep my men quiet when they fall in with the patrols at such a time as this," declared the ranger, with a flash of defiance. "I have no authority over them now."

"For that very reason you must be removed to Wilicza–there _I_ shall be able to furnish the necessary authority, if yours falls short."

"And my station?"

"Will remain for the present under the supervision of Inspector Fellner, until the arrival of the new ranger whom I had destined for Wilicza. He must make up his mind to take your post for a while. You yourself will stay at the Castle-station until there is peace again in the land out yonder."

Osiecki laughed ironically. "It may be a long time first."

"Perhaps not so long as you think. At any rate, you will have to leave this house to-morrow."

A somewhat significant movement was noticeable among the men as he repeated his order in most decided tones, and the forester's passion blazed up fiercely.

"Herr Nordeck!" he exclaimed.

"Well?"

"I declared yesterday …"

"I hope you have taken counsel since then, and that to-day you are ready to declare it was through a misunderstanding your messenger brought me such an incredible answer. Take care what you are about, Osiecki. I should think you must know me sufficiently by this time."

"Yes, indeed, you have taken good care that all Wilicza should know you," muttered the ranger between his set teeth.

"Then you know, too, that I brook no disobedience, and that I never take back an order once given. The forester's house at Wilicza is empty at present. You will either move into it before noon tomorrow with all your staff, or you may consider yourself dismissed from my service."

A threatening murmur rose among the men. They crowded more closely together, their looks and attitude showing plainly that it was only by an effort they still restrained themselves from any overt act of violence. Osiecki stepped up to his employer, and stood close before him.

"Oh, oh, the thing is not so easily settled," he cried. "I am no common day labourer to be hired to-day and discharged to-morrow. You can give me warning if you like; but I have a right to stay here till the autumn, and so have the men I have engaged. My district lies among the border-forests. I want no other, and I'll take no other, and the man who tries to oust me will fare but badly."

"You mistake," replied Waldemar. "The station is my property, and the ranger is bound to conform to my instructions. Do not insist on a right which you have forfeited through your own misconduct. The act committed by your men under your leadership the other day deserves a far severer punishment than a mere removal to another post. You have insulted the patrols; you have now gone so far as to attack them–there were even shots fired. If you were not arrested on the spot, you may thank the consideration in which I am held in L– for it. It is well known there that I have the will and, if need be, the power to keep the peace on my estates, and that I do not care to have strangers coming between me and those whom I employ; but some serious interference on my part is now expected of me, and I shall respond to that expectation without delay. You will at once comply with the arrangement I have determined on, or before the day is over I shall offer the station to the officer in command to serve as a post of observation on the frontier, and to-morrow the house will be garrisoned."

Osiecki hastily stretched out his hand towards his rifle; but bethought himself and stopped.

"You will not do that, Herr Nordeck," said he, in a low meaning voice.

"I shall do it, if there is any question of insubordination or resistance. Decide–you have the choice. Shall you be at Wilicza to-morrow or not?"

"No, a thousand times no," shouted Osiecki, roused now to violent excitement. "I have orders not to stir from the station, and I shall yield to nothing but actual force."