Under a Charm. Vol. I

"You ought to know that I do not allow myself to be governed, uncle," replied Waldemar, in a tone of irritation. "My mother met me in a conciliatory spirit, and I neither can nor will repulse her advances roughly, as you did whilst I was under your guardianship."

"They tell you often enough that you are under it no longer, I'll be bound," interrupted his uncle. "You have laid great stress on that for the last few weeks; but it is quite unnecessary, my boy. You have, I am sorry to say, never done anything but just what pleased you, and often acted in opposition to my will. Your coming of age is a mere form, for me, at least, though not for the Baratowskis. They best know what use they mean to make of it, and why they are continually reminding you of your freedom."

"What is the good of these perpetual suspicions?" cried Waldemar, in a passion. "Am I to give up all intercourse with my relations for no other reason but because you dislike them?"

"I wish you could put your dear relations' tenderness to the test," said Witold, ironically. "They would not trouble themselves so much about you, if you did not happen to be master of Wilicza. Now, now, don't fly out again. We have had quarrels enough about it of late, I am not going to spoil my nap to-day. This confounded bathing season will be over soon, and then we shall be quit of them all."

A short pause followed, Waldemar pacing impatiently up and down the room.

"I can't think what they are about in the stables. I ordered Norman to be saddled–the men seem to have gone to sleep over it."

"You are in a terrible hurry to get away, are not you?" asked the Squire, drily. "I really believe they have given you some philtre over in C–, which will not allow you to rest anywhere else. You can hardly bear to wait until it is time for you to be in the saddle."

Waldemar made no reply. He began to whistle and to crack his whip in the air.

"The Princess is going back to Paris, I presume?" asked Witold all at once.

"I don't know. It is not decided yet where Leo is to finish his studies. His mother will no doubt be guided by that in the choice of her future home."

"I wish he would go and study in Constantinople, and that his lady mother would be guided by that, and take herself off with him to the land of the Turks; then, at all events, they could not be back for some time," said Herr Witold, spitefully. "That young Baratowski must be a perfect prodigy of learning. You are always talking of his studies."

"Leo has learned a great deal more than I, yet he is four years younger," said Waldemar, in a grumbling voice.

"His mother has kept him to his books, no doubt. That boy has kept the same tutor all the while, you may be sure; while six have decamped from here, and the seventh only stays on with you because he can't very well help himself."

"And why was not I kept to my books?" asked young Nordeck, suddenly, crossing his arms defiantly and going up close to his guardian. The latter stared at him in astonishment.

"I do believe the boy is going to reproach me with giving him his own way in everything," he cried, in wrathful indignation.

"No," replied Waldemar, briefly. "You meant well, uncle; but you don't know how I feel when I see that Leo is before me in everything, and hear constantly of the necessity of further advantages for him, while I stand by and … But there shall be an end of it. I'll go to the University, too."

Herr Witold, in his fright, nearly let fall the sofa cushion he was comfortably adjusting.

"To the University?" he repeated.

"Yes, certainly. Dr. Fabian has been talking of it for months."

"And for months you have refused to go.

"That was before … I have changed my mind now. Leo is to go to the University next year, and if he is ready for it at eighteen, it must be high time for me to be there. I am not going to be outdone always by my younger brother. I shall talk to Dr. Fabian about it to-morrow. And now I'll go round to the stables myself, and see whether Norman is saddled at last. My patience is pretty well worn out."

With these words he took up his hat from the table, and hurried out of the room, full of eagerness to be gone. Herr Witold sat still on the sofa, holding the cushion. He did not think of laying it straight now. It was all over with his noonday rest.

"What has come to the boy, Doctor? What have you been doing to the boy?" he cried, angrily, as that inoffensive individual came into the room.

"I?" asked the Doctor, in alarm. "Nothing! Why, he has but just left you.

"Well, well, I don't mean you exactly," said the Squire, peevishly. "I mean the Baratowski people. There has been no managing him since they got him into their hands. Just fancy, he says now he wants to go to the University."

"No? Really?" cried the Doctor, in delight.

This reply roused Herr Witold to still greater ire.

"Yes, it will be a matter of rejoicing to you," he grumbled. "You will be enchanted to get away from here, and to leave me at Altenhof without a soul to keep me company."

"You know that I have always advocated his going to the University. I have unfortunately never found a hearing; and, if it really be the Princess who has prevailed upon Waldemar to take this step, I can only regard her influence as most beneficial."

"Deuce take her beneficial influence!" stormed the Squire, flinging the unhappy sofa cushion into the middle of the room. "We shall soon see what it all means. Something has happened to the boy. He wanders about as if he were dreaming in broad daylight, takes no interest in anything, and when one asks him a question he answers at cross purposes. When he goes out shooting, he comes back with an empty bag–he, who never used to miss a shot; and now he has all at once taken to study, and there is no getting him from his books. I must find out what has brought about this change in him, and you will have to help me, Doctor. You must go over to C– one of these days."

"No, for Heaven's sake, no!" protested Dr. Fabian. "What should I do there?"

"See how the land lies," said the Squire, emphatically, "and bring me back word. Something is going on there, of that I am certain. I can't go over myself, for I am, so to speak, on a war-footing with the Princess, and when we two come together there is sure to be a row. I can't tolerate her spiteful ways, and she can't put up with my plain speaking; but you, Doctor, stand as a neutral in the business. You are the right man."

The Doctor with all his might resisted the requirement made of him.

"But I understand nothing of such matters," he complained. "You know, too, how absent and ill at ease I am in my intercourse with strangers. I should be especially so with the Princess. Besides, Waldemar would never consent to my going with him."

"It is all of no use," interrupted Witold, dictatorially. "Go over to C– you must. You are the only creature in whom I have confidence, Doctor. You won't desert me now?" With this he broke into such a flood of argument, reproaches, and entreaties, that the poor Doctor, half stunned by so much eloquence, surrendered at last, and promised all that was asked of him.

The sound of hoofs was heard outside, and Waldemar, already mounted, trotted past the window, then gave his horse the rein, and galloped away without once looking back.

"Off he goes," said Witold, half grumbling, and yet brimming over anew with admiration for his adopted son. "Just see how the boy sits his horse. They might be cast in bronze! and it is no trifle to keep the Norman well in hand."

"Waldemar has a singular mania for riding young horses which are only half broken in," said the Doctor, anxiously. "I cannot understand why he has selected Norman for his favourite. He is the most unmanageable, the most restive, animal in the stables."

"That is the very reason," returned the Squire, laughing. "You know he must have something to curb and master, or he finds no pleasure in the game. But now, come here, Doctor; we must consider about this mission of yours. You must set to work diplomatically, you know."

So saying, he grasped the Doctor's arm and dragged him off to the sofa. Poor Fabian went docilely enough. He had resigned himself to his fate, and only murmured occasionally, in doleful accents, "I a diplomatist, Herr Witold? Mercy on me! la diplomatist!"

The Baratowski family had never taken much part in the gay doings of the C– season, and latterly they had withdrawn from them more and more. Waldemar, who now paid them such frequent visits, always found the family party alone. Count Morynski alone was wanting to it. He had left a few days before the scene above described. It had been his intention to take his daughter away with him; but the Princess discovered that a longer stay at the seaside was essential to Wanda's health, and prevailed on her brother to consent to a prolonged separation. He yielded to his sister's wish, and set out on his solitary way towards Rakowicz, where business matters required his presence.

In spite of the noonday heat, young Nordeck had ridden over from Altenhof at full speed. On his arrival he entered the Princess's room, where he found her sitting at her writing-table. Had Leo come to her thus, glowing and overheated, she would certainly have met him with some word of remonstrance, of motherly solicitude; but Waldemar's appearance, though possibly not unnoticed by her, excited no remark.

It was a singular fact that, although mother and son now saw each other so frequently, no intimacy had taken root between them. The Princess always treated Waldemar with the utmost consideration, and he strove to tone down the harshness of his demeanour towards her; but in this mutual endeavour to preserve a good understanding, there was not a spark of warm, genuine feeling. They could not cross the invisible gulf which lay between them, though, for the time being, an extraneous power had bridged it over. The greeting on either side was just as cool as on the occasion of their first meeting; but Waldemar's eyes now roved round the parlour with an uneasy, questioning glance.

"You are looking for Leo and Wanda?" said the Princess. "They have gone down to the shore, and will wait for you there. You have planned a boating excursion together, I think?"

"Yes. I will go and look for the others at once." Waldemar made a hasty movement towards the door, but his mother laid her hand on his arm.

"I must claim your attention for a few minutes first. I have something important to discuss with you."

"Won't it do later?" asked Waldemar, impatiently. "I should like before …"

"I particularly wish to speak to you alone," the Princess interrupted him. "You will still be in time for the sail. You can all very well put it off for a quarter of an hour."

Young Nordeck looked annoyed at being thus detained, and obeyed with evident reluctance when invited to sit down. There seemed little prospect of his attention being given to the matter in hand, for his eyes wandered off continually to the window near him which opened on to the shore.

"Our stay in C– is drawing to an end," said the Princess; "we must soon begin to think of our departure."