Under a Charm. Vol. I

"So you met each other in the forest?" said she again. "Was no name mentioned on either side to enlighten you?"

"Well, I unluckily took Herr Nordeck for a wood demon," burst out Wanda, paying no heed to her aunt's grave, reproving glance, "and he did his best to strengthen me in the belief. You can't imagine, aunt, what an interesting interview we had. During the half hour we were together, he never let me find out whether he really belonged to the present race of men, or to the old fabulous ages. Under these circumstances, a formal introduction was out of the question, of course."

This little speech was made in a tone of impertinent, half-mocking jest; but, strangely enough, Waldemar, who had recently shown himself so irritable, did not appear in the least offended by it. His eyes were still fixed on the young girl, and he hardly seemed to hear her stinging little pleasantries.

The Princess, however, thought it time to put a stop to Wanda's pertness. She turned to her son with calm as perfect as though the previous scene between them had never taken place.

"You have not yet seen your brother, Waldemar, nor your uncle either; I will take you to them. You will spend the day with us?" She spoke the last words in an airy, assured tone, as though his staying were a thing of course.

"If you wish it." This was said irresolutely, hesitatingly, but with none of the fierce defiance of his former answers. Evidently Waldemar no longer thought of going.

"Certainly I wish it. You would not leave us so abruptly on the occasion of your first visit. Come, dear Wanda."

Young Nordeck wavered yet a moment; but as Wanda obeyed the summons, his decision was taken. He laid the hat and riding-whip, to which he had hitherto persistently clung, down on the chair he had a little while before upset in his sudden blaze of anger, and meekly followed the ladies as they led the way. A scarcely perceptible smile of triumph played about the Princess's lips. She was too clever an observer not to know that she had the game in her own hands. It is true that accident had befriended her.

CHAPTER V

Count Morynski and Leo were together in the drawing-room. They had already heard from Pawlick of Waldemar's arrival, but had not wished to disturb the first meeting between mother and son. The Count looked a little surprised, as Wanda, whom he believed to be in her room, came in with them; but he did not put the question which was on his lips. For the moment young Nordeck engaged his whole attention. The Princess took her younger son by the hand, and led him to the elder. "You do not know each other yet," she said, significantly; "but to-day, at last, the satisfaction of bringing you together is granted me. Leo is ready to meet you with a brother's love, Waldemar. Let me hope that he may find the same in you."

Waldemar, with a rapid glance, took the measure of the new-found brother standing before him. There was no hostility in his manner now. The young Prince's handsome face took him captive on the spot, so much was evident; perhaps, too, he had been won over to a milder mood by that which had passed, for when Leo, still with some shy reserve, held out his hand to him, he grasped it warmly.

Count Morynski now drew near to address some words of courtesy to his sister's son. The latter answered chiefly in monosyllables, and the conversation, which, on Waldemar's account, was carried on exclusively in German, would have been forced and languid, had not the Princess guided it with truly masterly tact. She steered clear of every rock ahead, she avoided every painful allusion, and skilfully contrived that her brother, her sons, and Wanda should by turns be drawn into the general talk, so as, for half an hour, really to conjure up an illusion of the most perfect harmony reigning among the different members of the family.

Leo stood close to Waldemar's chair, and the contrast between the brothers was thus brought into strongest relief. The young Prince himself had hardly emerged from boyhood; he no more than his neighbour had yet ripened to man's estate. But how different was the transition here! Waldemar had never appeared to greater disadvantage than by the side of this slender, supple form, where there was symmetry in every line–by this youthful aristocrat, with his easy, assured bearing, his graceful gestures and ideally beautiful head. Young Nordeck's sharp, angular figure, his irregular features and sombre eyes, looking out from under a tangle of light hair, justified but too fully the mother's feelings, as her gaze rested on them both–on her darling, her handsome boy, so full of life and animation, and on that other, who was also her son, but to whom she was linked by no single outward trait, by no impulse of the heart. There was something in Waldemar's manner to-day which showed him in a more than usually unfavourable light. The short, imperious tone that was habitual to him, though unattractive enough, was yet consistent with his general appearance, and lent to it a character of its own. This tone he had maintained throughout the interview with his mother; but, from the moment of the young Countess Morynska's entrance, it had deserted him. For the first time in his life he appeared shy and under restraint; for the first time he seemed to feel the influence of society in every way superior to himself, and the novelty of his position robbed him, not only of his defiance, but visibly of his self-confidence also. He had come prepared to face a hostile camp, and his resolution had armed him with a certain rugged dignity. Now he had given up the fight, and his dignity had vanished. He was awkward, abstracted, and Morynski's surprised look seemed now and then to ask whether this really could be the Waldemar as to whom such alarming reports had been made. When they had sat and talked for about half an hour, Pawlick came in and announced that dinner was ready.

"Leo, you must resign your office to your brother, and let him take Wanda in to-day," said the Princess, as she rose and, passing her hand through her brother's arm, went on first with him to the dining-room.

"Well," asked the Count in a low voice, and in Polish, "how do matters stand? What was the result of the interview?"

The Princess only smiled. She gave one rapid glance back at Waldemar, who was just going up to Wanda, and then answered, also in Polish, "Make your mind easy. He will comply. I will answer for it."

It was nearly evening when young Nordeck set out on his homeward journey. Leo went with his brother to the gate of the villa, and then returned to the drawing-room. The Princess and Count Morynski were no longer there, but Wanda still stood on the balcony, watching the departing horseman.

"Good gracious, what a monster that Waldemar is!" cried Wanda to her cousin as he came in. "However did you manage to keep serious all the time, Leo? Look here, I have nearly bitten my handkerchief to pieces, trying to hide that I was laughing; but I can't keep it down any longer, or I shall suffocate!" and, falling on to one of the balcony chairs, Wanda broke into a violent burst of merriment, which plainly showed what severe restraint she must hitherto have placed on herself.

"We were prepared to find Waldemar odd," said Leo, half apologetically. "After all we had heard of him, I, to tell the truth, expected he would be much rougher and more disagreeable than he is."

"Oh, you only saw him in company dress to-day," jested Wanda; "but when one has had the good fortune to admire him, as I did, in all his primeval grandeur, it is hard to recover from the overpowering effect of the savage's first appearance. I yet think with awe of our meeting in the forest."

"Yes, you owe me an account of that meeting still," put in Leo. "So it was Waldemar who showed you the way to the Beech Holm the day before yesterday? I have gathered this much from your discourse, but I really do not understand why you make such a mystery of the matter."

"I only did that to torment you," replied the young lady with great candour. "You grew so angry when I told you of my interesting adventure with a stranger. You naturally believed some fascinating cavalier had escorted me, and I left you in that belief. Now, Leo"–here her gaiety got the better of her again–"now you see it was not a very dangerous affair."

"Well, yes, I see that," assented the young Prince, laughing; "but Waldemar must have had some knightly instinct, or he would not have condescended to act as your guide."

"Possibly; but I shall remember his escort as long as I live. Just fancy, Leo; all in a minute I lost the path I had so often taken, and which I thought I knew so well. At every attempt to find it I got deeper and deeper into the forest, until at last I strayed into regions quite unknown to me. I could not even tell in which direction the Beech Holm or the sea lay, for there was not a breath of wind, and not a murmur of the waves reached me. I stood still, not knowing what to do, and was just on the point of turning back, when something broke through the bushes as violently as though the woods were being beaten for a battue. Suddenly the figure of a man stood before me, whom I really could take for none other than the wood-demon in person. He was up to his knees in mud. A freshly killed doe was thrown over his shoulder, quite regardless of the fact that blood was dripping from the animal down on to his clothes and staining them. The enormous yellow mane, which serves him for hair, had been roughly used by the bushes, and was hanging down over his face. He stood there with a gun in his hand, and a growling, snarling dog at his side, who showed his teeth as he looked at me. I ask you if it was possible to take this monster of the woods for a human being bent on sport."

"You were in a tremendous fright, I suppose," said Leo, banteringly.

Wanda tossed her head. "In a fright? I? You ought to know by this time that I am not timid. Another girl would have probably fled precipitately, but I kept my ground, and asked the way to the Beech Holm. Though I repeated the question twice, I got no answer. Instead of replying, the spectre stood as though rooted to the ground, and stared at me with its great wild eyes without uttering a sound. Then I did begin to feel uncomfortable, and turned to go, when in a moment, with two strides, he was at my side, pointing to the right, and showing an unmistakable intention of acting as my guide."

"But not by pantomime alone?" interposed Leo. "Waldemar spoke to you, surely."

"Oh yes, he spoke; he honoured me in all with six or seven words, certainly not more. On joining company with him, I heard something like 'We must take to the right;' and on parting, 'Yonder lies the Beech Holm.' During the half-hour's interval, there reigned an impressive silence which I did not venture to break. And what a way it was we took! First we went straight into the very midst of the thicket, my amiable guide walking on ahead of me, trampling and crushing down the bushes like a bear. I believe he destroyed half the forest to make some sort of a passage for me. Then we came to a clearing, then to a bog. I expected we should plunge right into it; but, marvellous to say, we stopped on the brink. All this time not a word passed between us; but my singular companion stuck close to my side, and whenever I looked up I met his eyes, which seemed to grow more and more uncanny every minute. I now inclined decidedly to the opinion that he had risen from one of the ancient tumuli, and was prowling about in search of some human being whom he would straightway drag off to one of the old heathen altars, and there immolate. Just as I was preparing for my approaching end, I saw the blue sea glistening through the branches, and at once recognised the neighbourhood of the Beech Holm. My wonderful cavalier came to a halt, fixed his great eyes on me once more, as though he would eat me up on the spot, and seemed hardly to hear that I was thanking him. Next minute I was on the shore, where I caught sight of your boat. Think of my astonishment when I came in to-day and found my wood-demon–my giant of primeval times, whom I thought long since buried in some deep cavern of the earth–in my aunt's reception room, and when the said ghostly vision was introduced to me as 'Cousin Waldemar.' It is true, he conducted himself in the most approved style; he even took me in to dinner. But, goodness me! how funnily he set about it! I believe it was the first time in his life he ever offered a lady his arm. Did you see how he bowed, how he behaved at table? Don't be offended, Leo; but this new brother of yours belongs rightly to the wilderness, and to the furthest depths of it, too! There he has at least something awe-inspiring about him; but when he comes out among civilised men, he simply convulses one with laughter. And to think that he should be the future lord of Wilicza!"

At heart, Leo shared this opinion; but he thought it incumbent on him to take his brother's part. He felt how infinitely superior to young Nordeck he himself was, both in appearance and bearing, and this made it easy to be generous.

"But it is not Waldemar's fault that his education has been so entirely neglected," said he; "mamma thinks that his guardian has let him run wild systematically."

"Well, all I can say is, he is a monster," decided the young lady. "I herewith solemnly declare that if I have to go in to dinner with him again, I will impose a voluntary fast on myself, and not appear at table."

During their talk, Wanda's handkerchief, with which she had been fanning herself, had slipped down, and now lay at some distance below them in the ivy which crept round the balcony. Leo noticed this, and gallantly bent to reach it. He was obliged almost to go down on his knees. In this position, he picked up the handkerchief, and restored it to his cousin. Instead of thanking him, she burst out into a peal of laughter. The young Prince sprang to his feet.

"You are laughing?"

"Oh, not at you, Leo. It only struck me how unutterably comic your brother would have looked in such a situation."

"Waldemar? Yes, indeed; but you will hardly have that satisfaction. He will never bend the knee before a lady, certainly not before you."

"Certainly not before me!" repeated Wanda, in a tone of pique. "Oh, you think I am still such a child, it is not worth while kneeling to me. I have a great mind to prove to you the contrary."

"How?" asked Leo, laughing. "By bringing Waldemar to your feet, perhaps?"

The girl pouted. "And suppose I undertook to do it?"

"Well, try your power on my brother, if you like," said he, touchily. "Perhaps that will give you a better notion of what you can do, and what you can't."

Wanda sprang up with the eagerness of a child who sees a new toy before it.

"I agree. What shall we wager?"

"But it must be done in earnest, Wanda. It must not be a mere act of politeness, like mine just now."

"Of course not," assented the young Countess. "You laugh; you think such a thing is quite beyond the range of possibility. Well, we shall see who wins. You shall behold Waldemar on his knees before we leave. I only make one condition; you must give him no hint of it. I think it would rouse all the bear in him if he were to hear we had presumed to make his lordship the object of a wager."

"I won't say a word," declared Leo, carried away by her mischievous eagerness, and joining in the frolic. "We shan't escape an outburst of his Berserker wrath, though, when you laugh out at him at last, and tell him the truth. But perhaps you mean to say yes?"

Both the children–for children they still were with their respective sixteen and seventeen years–joked and made merry over their conceit, as such thoughtless young creatures will. Accustomed constantly to tease and torment each other, they had no misgivings about including a third person in their sport. They never reflected how little Waldemar's stern, unbending character was suited to such trifling, or to what bitter earnest he might turn the play imagined by them in the foolish gaiety of their hearts.

CHAPTER VI

Some weeks had passed. The summer was drawing to an end, and all hands at Altenhof were busy with the harvest. The Squire, who had spent his whole morning in the fields, looking after the men and directing the work, had come home weary and exhausted, and was settling himself down for his well-earned after-dinner nap. Whilst making his preparations for it, he looked round every now and then, half angrily, half admiringly, at his adopted son, who was standing by the window dressed in his usual riding gear, waiting for his horse to be brought round.

"So you are really going over to C– in the heat of the day?" asked Herr Witold. "I wish you joy of your two hours' ride. There is not a bit of shade all the way. You will be getting a sunstroke–but you don't seem able to live now without paying your respects to your mother at least three or four times a week."

The young man frowned. "I can't refuse to go if my mother wishes to see me. Now that we are so near each other she has a right to require that I should pay her some visits."

"Well, she makes a famous use of the right," said Witold; "but I should like to know how she has contrived to turn you into an obedient son. I have tried in vain for nearly twenty years. She managed it in a single day; she certainly always had the knack of governing people."