II.

  A very picture of perfect serenity and peace of mind the coupleHellinger senr. made, as they sat at the breakfast-table. Out of thespout of the brass coffee-machine on the brightly-polished body ofwhich the fire-flames produced a purple reflection, there rose up thin,bluish steam which sank down towards the table in little clouds, cast afilm over the silver sugar-basin and wreathed the coffee-cups withdelicate, tiny dewdrops.

  Mr. Hellinger, with his snow-white, carefully trimmed beard, andhandsome, rosy, boyish face beaming with good nature and the pleasureof living, was leaning back comfortably in the blue chintz armchair,his Turkish dressing-gown pulled over his knees, and apparentlyawaiting with calmest resignation whatever fate, in the shape of hiswife, might be about to bestow upon him.

  She (his wife) was just throwing a pinch of soda into the littlecoffee-pot, whereupon she circumstantially wiped her powdery fingers onher white damask apron, which was edged in Russian fashion with broadred and many coloured stripes. Her white matron's cap, the ribbons ofwhich were tightly knotted together like a chin strap under her fleshychin, had shifted somewhat towards the left ear, and from out itsfrilly frame there shone, full of energy and enterprise, her coarse,comfortable, sergeant-like face, whose features were rather puffed out,as is often observable in old women who like to share their husband'sglass of brandy.

  One could see that she was accustomed to rule and to subdue, and eventhe smile of constant injured feeling that played about her broad mouthwent to prove how inconsiderately she was wont to carry through herplans.

  So that she might not sit unoccupied while waiting for the coffee todraw, she took up her coarse woollen knitting, which, in her capacityof president of the ladies' society and directress of the charityorganisation, was never allowed to leave her hands, and the needles ranwith remarkable rapidity through her bony, work-used fingers.

  "Have you heard nothing from Robert, Adalbert?" she asked, with a hardmetallic voice, which must have penetrated the house to its lastcorner.

  The question appeared to be unpleasant to the old man. He shook hishead as if he would shake it off; it disturbed his morningtranquillity.

  "An affectionate son, one must say," she continued, and the injuredsmile grew in intensity. "Since a week we have neither heard nor seenanything of him; if he lived in the moon he could not come morerarely."

  Mr. Hellinger muttered something to himself, and busied himself withhis long pipe.

  "It looks as if something were brewing again in that quarter," shebegan anew; "he has altogether been so peculiar lately; come slinkinground me without a word to say for himself. It seems to me there issome debt hanging over him again that he can't satisfy."

  "Poor fellow," said the old man, and smacked his lips, perhaps to getrid of the unpleasant idea by this means.

  "Poor fellow, indeed!" she mocked him; "I suppose you pity him into thebargain; perhaps even you have been helping him on the sly?"

  He raised up his white, well-kept hands in protest and defence ofhimself, but he had not the courage to look her in the face.

  "Adalbert," she said, threateningly, "I make it a condition that such athing does not happen again. Whatever you give him, you take from usand from our other children. And if at least he deserved it! but hethat will not hear advice must suffer. If he is ruined, with hisobstinacy and stubbornness----"

  "Allow me, Henrietta," he interrupted her timidly.

  "I allow nothing, Adalbert, my dear," replied she. "'He that will nothearken to advice must suffer!' say I; and if through his abominableingratitude his poor mother, who is only anxious for his welfare, andwho bothers and worries herself whole nights through, thinking----"

  With the many-coloured border of her apron she rubbed her eyes as ifthere were tears there to be wiped away.

  "But, Henrietta," he began again.

  "Adalbert, do not contradict me! You know I close an eye to all yourfollies. I allow you to sit as long as ever you like at the 'BlackEagle'; I let you drink as much as ever you can do with of that bad,expensive claret. I even put your supper ready for you when you comehome late though it is hardly necessary that you should on suchoccasions upset three chairs, as you did yesterday. I consideraltogether that you have very little regard for the feelings of yourold and faithful wife. But--yes, what I was going to say is--that, oncefor all, I will not have you meddle with my plans: as it is youunderstand nothing of such matters. Have you, altogether, any idea ofall I have done already for that good-for-nothing Robert? I have runabout, and driven about, made calls, and written letters, and Heavenknows what else. Five or six well-to-do--nay, very wealthy girls Ihave, so to say, brought ready to his hand, any of whom he could havehad for the taking. But what did he do? Well, I should think you stillremember how I was seized with convulsions when, four years ago, hearrived with that miserable, delicate creature, Martha? My wholeillness dates from then."

  "But, Henrietta!"

  "My dear Adalbert, I beg of you, do not again harp upon the same oldstring about her being my own flesh and blood! If she wished to be aloving and grateful niece to me, why did she not bring the necessarydowry with her? She had nothing--of course she had nothing! My departedbrother died as poor as a church mouse. Is that fitting for one ofmy family? But after all--he had a right to do as he liked with hisown--what business is it of mine? Only he need not have saddled us withhis daughter."

  "Well, but she is dead now," remarked Herr Hellinger.

  "Yes, she is dead," replied she, and folded her hands. "It were a sinto say, thank God for that. But as our Lord has so ordained it, I willat least profit by the circumstance, and endeavour to rectify his follyof then. While you were sitting in the 'Black Eagle,' drinking yourclaret, I was once more toiling and moiling and inquiring round, sothat he has but to pick and choose. There is Gertrude Leuzmann; willget fifty thousand cash down and as much more when the old man dies.There is that little von Versen; very young yet certainly--only justconfirmed--but she will get even more! And besides these, at leastthree or four others! But what do you imagine he will say to it all?'Mother,' he will say, 'if you start that theme again, you will nevermore set sight on me.' Was ever such a thing heard of? He has only tomarry the second sister now in place of the other one, to bring hisgood old mother to her grave! By the by where can the young lady beto-day? It is nearly nine o'clock, and she has not yet appeared. In mybrother's Bohemian home it may very probably have been the fashion tolie a-bed till noon; but in my well-ordered household, I beg to say,most emphatically and politely, I will not have it, Adalbert."

  "I cannot conceive, dear Henrietta," he said, "why you heap reproachesupon me which are meant for your niece!"

  "If only for once you would not take her part, Adalbert. But, ofcourse, there is nothing left for me to say. I am duped and betrayed inmy own house! However, I shall very soon put an end to the matter. Ihave kept her here now for a whole year; now she begins to be very much_de trop_."

  "But does she not toll and moil in Robert's household from early morntill late at night? Does a day pass on which she does not betakeherself to the manor farm? Do not be unjust towards her, Henrietta."

  She gave him a pitying look."If you had not remained such a child, Adalbert, one might talk reasonto you. Don't you see that that is just where the danger lies? Don'tyou imagine that she has her reasons for flaunting about every day atthe manor and for behaving herself as mistress there before him and theservants? Ah--she--she is a deep one--is my niece Olga. Be sure she hasdone her part towards getting him accustomed to the idea that she--andshe alone--has a right to the place of her dead sister. What elseshould she be looking for, day after day, at the manor, if it is notthat?"

  "I should think Martha's child is sufficient explanation."

  "Of course, of course! Any nursery tale is good enough to impose uponyou! She knows exactly why she behaves as she does, and why she isalmost ready to eat up the poor little mite for very love. She knowsexactly how to find the way to its
father's heart!"

  "But perhaps she does not love him at all," old Hellinger interposed.

  She laughed out loud.

  "My dear Adalbert, a man who owns an estate just outside the town-gatesis always loved by a poor girl, and if I do not make an end now andsend her about her business, it may very possibly come to pass that ourdear Robert will take her by the hand one fine day and say to us,'Here, papa and mamma, now be good enough to give us your blessing.'And rather than live to see that, Adalbert----"

  At this moment the sound of lumbering male steps was audible in theentrance-hall; directly after these came a loud and violent knock atthe door.

  "Well!" said Mrs. Hellinger, "some one is making a noise as if thebailiffs were outside--we have not got as far as that yet." And veryslowly and deliberately she said, "Come in."

  The old doctor stepped into the room. His hat sat awry at the back ofhis head, his necktie hung loose over his shoulders, and his chestheaved as with breathless running. He forgot his "Good-morning"greeting, and only gave a wild, searching glance around.

  "Good heavens, doctor!" cried Mr. Hellinger, senr., hastening towardshim, "why, you burst in upon us like a bull into a china-shop."

  Mrs. Hellinger once more assumed her injured air, and mutteredsomething about pot-house manners.

  When the old doctor saw the undisturbed breakfast-table and theastonished, every-day faces of his friends, he let himself drop intoan armchair with a sigh of relief. Then it had not taken place afterall--this terrible thing! But next moment his fears took possession ofhim anew.

  "Where is Olga?" he faltered, and fixed his gaze on the door as if hemight see her enter there any moment.

  "Olga?" said Mrs. Hellinger, shrugging her shoulders. "My goodness, sheprobably will be here shortly. Are you in such a hurry?"

  "God be praised!" cried he, folding his hands. "Then she has been downalready?"

  "No--not so," remarked Mrs. Hellinger, "her ladyship thinks well tosleep somewhat long this morning."

  "For God's sake," he cried, "has no one looked after her? Does no oneknow anything of her?"

  "Doctor, what ails you?" cried old Hellinger, who was now beginning tobe alarmed.

  The physician may at this moment have recollected the request withwhich Olga's letter of farewell had closed. He felt that in this wayhis desire to comply with her request would, from the very first,become impossible, and made a last wretched attempt to preserve thesecret.

  "What ails me?" he faltered, with a miserable laugh. "Nothing ailsme!--What should ail me? Confound it all!" And then, casting aside alldissimulation, he cried out: "My God! my God! Thou hast permitted thisterrible thing! Thou hast withdrawn Thy hand from her." And he wasabout to sink down weeping, but he once more gathered up all the energystill remaining in his rickety old body, raised himself bolt upright,and--"Come to Olga," he said, "and do not be terrified--however--youmay--find her."

  Old Hellinger grew pale, and his wife commenced to scream and sob; sheclung to the doctor's arm, and wished to know what had happened; but hespoke no further word.

  So they all three climbed up the stairs leading to Olga's gable-room,and in the entrance-hall the servants collected and stared after themwith great, inquisitive eyes.

  Before Olga's door Mrs. Hellinger was seized with a paroxysm ofdespair.

  "You knock, doctor," she sobbed, "I cannot."

  The old man knocked.

  All remained quiet.

  He knocked again, and put his ear to the keyhole.

  As before.

  Then Mrs. Hellinger began to scream:

  "Olga, my beloved, my dear child, do open--we are here--your uncle andaunt and old uncle doctor are here. You may open without fear, mylove."

  The physician pressed the latch; the door was locked. He looked throughthe key-hole; it was stopped up.

  "Have the locksmith fetched, Adalbert," he said.

  "No," cried Mrs. Hellinger, suddenly casting all sorrow to the winds,"that I shall not permit--that will on no account be done. The disgracewould be too great: I could never survive it--such a disgrace--such adisgrace!"

  The doctor gave her a look of unmistakable loathing and contempt. Shetook little notice of it.

  "You are strong, Hellinger," she said, "bear up against the door;perhaps you may succeed in breaking the lock."

  Mr. Hellinger was a giant. He set one of his powerful shoulders againstthe woodwork, which at the first pressure began to crack in its joints.

  "But softly," his wife admonished, "the servants are standing in theentrance-hall. Be off with you into the kitchen, you lazy beggars!" sheshouted scolding down the stairs.

  Down below doors banged. A second push----one of the boards broke rightthrough the middle. Through the splintry chink a bright ray of daylightbroke through into the semi-dark corridor.

  "Let me look through," said the doctor, who now, in anticipation of theworst, was calm and collected.

  Hellinger broke off a few splinters, so that through the aperture thewhole room could be overlooked.

  Opposite the door, a few paces removed from the window, stood the bed.The coverlet was dragged up, and formed a white hillock behind which astrip of Olga's light brown hair shone forth. A small portion of theforehead was also visible--white as the bed-clothes it gleamed. Thefeet were uncovered; they seemed to have been firmly set against thefoot end of the bed and then to have relaxed.

  By the pillow, on a chair, lay her clothes neatly folded. Her skirts,her stockings, were laid one upon the other in perfect symmetry, and onthe carpet stood her slippers, with their heels turned towards the bed,so as to be quite ready for slipping into on rising.

  On the marble slab of the pedestal, half leaning against the lamp, laya book, still open, as if it had been placed there before extinguishingthe light. Over everything there seemed to rest a shimmer of thatserene, unconscious peace which irradiates a pure maiden's soul. Shewho dwelt here had fallen asleep yesterday with a prayer on her lips,to awaken to-day with a smile.

  After the physician had held silent survey, he stepped back from theaperture.

  "Put your arm through, Adalbert," he said, "and try to reach the lock.She has bolted the door from the inside."

  But Mrs. Hellinger squeezed herself up against the door, and with loudcries implored her sweet one to wake up and draw the bolt herself. Atlast it was possible to push her on one side, and the door was opened.The three stepped up to the bedside.

  A marble-white countenance, with lustreless, half-open eyes, and anecstatic smile on its lips, met their gaze. The beautiful head, withits classic, refined features, was slightly bowed towards the leftshoulder, and the unbound hair fell down in great shining waves uponthe regal bust, over which the nightdress was torn. A white button witha shred of linen attached, which hung in the buttonhole, was the onlysign that a state of excitement must have preceded slumber.

  "My sweet one, you are sleeping, are you not?" sobbed Mrs. Hellingen"Say that you are sleeping! You cannot have brought such disgrace uponyour aunt, your dear aunt, who cared for you and watched over you likeher own child." With that she seized the unconscious girl's pale,pendant, white hand, and endeavoured to drag her up by it.

  Her tender-hearted husband had covered his face with his hands, and wasweeping. The physician gave himself no time for emotion. He had pulledout his instruments, pushed Mrs. Hellinger aside with scant politeness,and was bending over the bosom, which with one rapid touch he entirelyfreed of its covering.

  When he rose up, every drop of blood had left his face.

  "One last attempt," he said, and made a quick incision straight acrossthe upper arm, where an artery wound itself in a bluish line throughthe white, gleaming flesh. The edges of the wound gaped open withoutfilling with blood; only after some seconds a few sluggish, dark dropsoozed forth.

  Then the old man threw the shining little knife far from him, foldedhis hands and--struggling with his tears--uttered a prayer.

 
Hermann Sudermann's Novels