Clear the Track! A Story of To-day

The people were surprised, shocked at the part taken; they obeyed, however, and began to retire. The square in front of the house was gradually emptied, and if Dernburg were once there in the midst of his officers, he would be also in safety. If Runeck, then, remained at his side, the whole affair would wind up peacefully. But this did not at all fit into Landsfeld's plan, and again he struck in.

"What means this?" he cried in a sharp stentorian voice. "Our delegate takes part against us, and ranges himself on the enemy's side, does he? Herr Runeck! your place is with us. You have to represent us–or do you mean to turn traitor?"

That evil word "traitor" immediately took effect, and a low threatening murmur became audible. Now Runeck lost the moderation that he had hitherto found it hard enough to preserve in face of Landsfeld's effrontery.

"You yourselves are traitors and villains if you assault the man who has helped you in every way that he could," he thundered. "Back from him! whoever touches him, I shall strike to the ground!"

His bearing was wild and threatening, so that all shrank back save Landsfeld only.

"Suppose you try that on me, then?" he yelled, rushing forward to attack Dernburg, but in the same minute, felled by a powerful blow of Egbert's fist, he sank to the ground with a loud outcry, where he lay with blood streaming over him.

The sudden lightning-like deed unchained all the passions of the raging mob.

With a fierce shout, Fallner and his fellows rushed upon Runeck, who threw himself in front of Dernburg and covered him with his body. For a few minutes his gigantic strength held out against the assailants, but the end of this unequal contest was to be foreseen. Then suddenly a knife flashed in Fallner's uplifted hand, a mighty thrust–and Egbert fell down, bleeding.

But this time the deed had a different effect from what it had had before, the multitude standing paralyzed, as it were, by horror. Suddenly the monstrous character of the whole proceeding seemed to strike them. Fallner himself stood there motionless, as though shocked by his own deed. The tumult was hushed; nobody hindered Dernburg, who, with pale face and compressed lips, slowly stooped down and took the unconscious Egbert in his arms.

Meanwhile, seeing that the square in front of the house was clear, the officers made a renewed attempt to force their way to the chief; it had only succeeded in a measure, but they already found themselves quite near to him, when that bloody incident supervened. Doctor Hagenbach, with quick presence of mind, profited by it to accomplish their end. "Room for the surgeon!" cried he, pressing forward. "Let me through!"

This word availed; a narrow path was opened for him in the densely-packed throng, and the officers crowded after; in a few minutes Dernburg was surrounded by them. But he did not concern himself on that score; he knelt by Egbert, whose head he supported, and when the doctor now stooped down and examined the wound, he asked softly, in a tone of deep distress:

"Is he–mortally wounded?"

"Very severely!" said Hagenbach, loudly and earnestly. "He must be conveyed somewhere instantly."

"To the Manor-house!" suggested Dernburg.

"Yes, indeed, that is best." He quickly put on a bandage, and then turned, in passing, to the bleeding Landsfeld, in order to examine him as well.

"There is no danger here!" he called aloud to the bystanders. "The blow has only stunned the man. Carry him into the house–he will soon again come to his senses–there is no cause for uneasiness about him. But Runeck–he is badly hurt!"

His manner showed that he feared the worst, and this decided the mood of the multitude. There arose an agitated murmur, that was transmitted from mouth to mouth, until it reached the ranks of those who had stood too far off to see what had been going on. And now, when Egbert was picked up and borne away, a movement of horror passed through the throng of human beings. They saw their deputy, whom they had elected in defiance of their chief, and lifted upon the shield with loud rejoicings lying lifeless and covered with blood, in the arms of the officers, who bore him away, and their chief walked by his side and held in his the hand of the unconscious young man. No request was needed to induce them to make way: all moved silently aside, when the melancholy procession came past–not a word, not a sound was to be heard. A silence as of death fell upon all those thousands.

CHAPTER XXV.

TWIXT LIFE AND DEATH

Meanwhile, in the Manor-house they were awaiting in terrible anxiety the issue of the noise and commotion, that were plainly audible as coming from the works. When Maia came from the park, her father had already gone forth to quell the workmen, and she could not, therefore, talk with him. She took refuge with Cecilia, wanting to unbosom herself to her, but had found her in such grief and distress, that it was useless to expect from her attention and sympathy.

"Leave me, Maia!" pleaded the young widow in accents of despair. "Only leave me now! Later, I will listen to everything you have to say, and advise you, too, but now I can think of nothing, and feel nothing but his danger!" So saying, she rushed out upon the terrace, whence one could overlook the works.

Poor Maia's heart grew still heavier. His danger! By that she could only mean her father, to whom Cecilia, too, was tenderly devoted. Was he actually in such sore peril when among his workmen?

Thus more than an hour had elapsed, and Maia could stand it no longer. What was Oscar to think of her staying away? He would believe that she had wavered in her resolution, and was minded to let him go alone to destruction. She must go back to him, if only for a few minutes, in order to tell him that it was impossible to speak with her father now! With quickening breath she hurried into the park, which already lay shadowed in twilight gloom. There who should come to meet her but her father.

Dernburg, with his attendants, had selected the shortest way, the same little by-path which he had used awhile ago on his way to the works, and which could not be seen from the terrace either. Through the movement of the stretcher and pain of the wound Egbert had been brought back to consciousness: his first question had reference to Landsfeld. Hagenbach assured him that the man's wound was insignificant and did not involve the slightest danger, and a deep sigh of relief showed how much comfort this assurance gave the young engineer. Maia, who at first only saw her father, threw herself impetuously on his bosom.

"You live, papa, you are saved! Thank God, now all will be well!"

"Yes, I am saved–at this price!" said Dernburg in a whisper, while he pointed behind him. Now, for the first time, the young girl caught sight of the wounded man, and uttered a shriek of horror.

"Hush, my child!" admonished Dernburg. "I did not want to frighten you. Where is Cecilia?"

"Out on the terrace. I must run and tell her; she is almost distressed to death about you," whispered Maia, with a glance at the friend of her youth, that was full of anguish, for he looked like one dying. Then she hurried off to her sister-in-law.

Dernburg had Egbert carried into his own chamber, and helped to lay him on the bed, while Dr. Hagenbach exerted himself in his behalf, and gave a few directions to the servant-man who came hurrying in. Then the door opened, and in Maia's company appeared Cecilia. Without disturbing herself about witnesses, without even seeing them, with a wild movement, she rushed up to the couch, and there fell upon her knees.

"Egbert, you had promised me to live!" she cried despairingly, "and yet you sought death."

Dernburg stood there as though struck by lightning. He had never had even the faintest suspicion of this love, and now one unguarded moment betrayed everything to him.

"I did not want to die, Cecilia, assuredly not," said Egbert, faintly. "But there was no other possibility of saving him."

His eye turned upon Dernburg, who now approached, and continued to look from one to the other, as though dazed.

"Is that the way it stands between you two?" asked he, slowly.

The young woman did not answer; she only clasped Egbert's right hand in both her own, as though she feared that they might be parted. He tried to speak, but Dernburg would not allow him to make the effort.

"Be tranquil, Egbert," said he, earnestly. "I know that Eric's betrothed was sacred from your approach: you need not assure me of that; and after his death, you have to-day, for the first time, entered Odensburg. My poor boy! That interposition has been fatal to you–you have been obliged to pay for it with your heart's blood."

"But this blood has forced me from that chain!" cried Egbert, with a return of his old fire. "You, none of you, have any idea how hard I have found it to wear. Now it is broken–I am free!"

He sank back, exhausted, and now Dr. Hagenbach asserted himself. In the most decided manner, he forbade any talking, and any further agitation of exciting topics, in the presence of the wounded man, from whom he did not conceal the perilous in his situation.

Dernburg looked upon his daughter-in-law, who, with folded hands, looked entreatingly at him, and he understood the silent appeal.

"Egbert, then, needs entire repose," said he, earnestly, "and self-sacrificing care. I commit him to you, Cecilia–you will be the best nurse here!" Once more he stooped down to the wounded man, exchanged a few whispered words with the surgeon, and then went into his office. Maia, who had hitherto stood silent in the doorway, now followed him, but she approached her father as shyly and timidly as though she had some grievous fault of her own to confess.

"Papa, I have something to say to you," she whispered, with downcast eyes. "I know you have already gone through terrible experiences to-day–but I cannot wait. Somebody out in the park is awaiting your decision and mine–I must convey it to him. Will you hear me?"

Dernburg had turned to her. Yes, indeed, what he had gone through with that day was hard, but this was the hardest of all. He held out both arms, and folding his darling to his heart, said in a breaking voice:

"My little Maia! My poor, poor child–"

Night had come, a dark stormy night, with heavy clouds covering the face of the sky. The Odensburg works, which, a few hours before, had been full of boisterous life, now lay there silent and forsaken. It had needed no special regulations, not even a reminder, to induce the workmen to go home. Since their deputy-elect had struck down their leader, and fallen himself by the knife of one of themselves, consternation had laid hold of the people. They felt all that was hard in these proceedings, although they did not clearly understand their full bearing. Fallner was shyly avoided; and when the news got wind that Landsfeld–who came to in little over a half hour–had left Odensburg on foot, there was a complete revolution in the sentiments of the whole laboring community. There were bitter accusations and reproaches, but not against him who was struggling with death over yonder in the Manor-house–all the bitterness was directed against Landsfeld alone.

Through night and storm came a tall, solitary figure, that remained standing in front of the Manor-house, where dim candle-light was visible behind several windows, in the apartment where Egbert lay under Cecilia's charge, and also in the rooms of Maia and Dernburg. None of them slept that night. The man who stood so motionless below knew nothing of these last events. He had heard, it is true, the noise at the works when he left the Rose Lake, and he knew also the apprehensions entertained for the evening, but what was Odensburg to him now, or what was life in general?

Oscar von Wildenrod was ready for the final step. He knew that he could not, dared not see his beloved again, and yet, with an irresistible longing, he was drawn once more into her neighborhood, to the spot where abode the only being upon earth that he truly loved. He had proven it, although not until the very last hour. The means of escape that was offered him at that time he had put from him for Maia's sake, and with that sacrifice fell off all that had been calculating in his love. It remained the only pure sentiment in a corrupt and blasted life, which was now to be ended by a bullet.

Wildenrod lived over, in memory, the first evening that he had spent at Odensburg. Then he had stood at that window, up there, his head full of ambitious schemes and his heart swelling with the first sweet sensations of love for the charming girl, to whose hand was appended that wealth which he so ardently coveted. Then he had vowed to be, one day, lord and master of this world of industrial achievement, and in the full confidence of his coming victory had gazed proudly upon those works, out of whose gigantic furnaces mounted upward sheaves of flashing sparks. Now all lay in total quiet, the restless machinery stood still, the fires were extinguished. Only over yonder, where the rolling-mills were situated, glimmered a pale, uncertain light, that gradually, however, grew brighter. Oscar eyed this indifferently, at first, but then more sharply. Now the light vanished, to shoot up again directly afterwards; now it quivered here and there, and then all at once it was as if a flash of lightning rent the sky. A flame darted on high, and in its glare one saw that the whole environs were full of moving columns of smoke.

Wildenrod started up at this spectacle; in the next minute he had rushed to the house and was striking against the window of the porter's lodge.

"There is a fire at the works. Awaken Herr Dernburg! I'll hurry on!"

"Fire on this stormy night! God be with us!" cried the horrified voice of the man, startled out of his sleep. Oscar did not hear what he said, for he was far on his way to the works, where the conflagration became more and more distinctly visible. Where, formerly, even at night, hundreds used to be astir, to-day only the inspectors remained, and they lay wrapt in slumber.