Clear the Track! A Story of To-day. E. Werner
and the younger members of the family seated themselves by the fireside and engaged in lively chat: Frau von Ringstedt sat upon a sofa in the corner with Miss Friedberg, and the master of the house was absorbed in serious conversation with Oscar von Wildenrod. They were talking of the Odensburg works, in which the Baron showed not only an uncommon interest, but his questions and remarks also demonstrated, that he was by no means so little versed in such matters as Dernburg had imagined, and he had just said:
"I had no idea, that you were so familiar with all these things, Herr von Wildenrod. Such work as ours generally has no charm outside of the profession. But you seem to be well acquainted with all its bearings."
"I have read a great deal about it," lightly answered Wildenrod. "One who, like myself, has no regular profession undertakes little private studies, and I have always had a fancy for mining and the manufactory of iron. My knowledge, to be sure, represents only the superficial observations of an amateur. Perhaps you will allow me to perfect them here, in some degree?"
"It will give me pleasure to act as your guide myself, in this pursuit," said Dernburg warmly. "In your ride, you only touched upon a small section of the works, but from the terrace, here, one has quite a comprehensive view of the whole."
He opened one of the glass doors and stepped out with his guest. The mist had not yet disappeared, but the works that stretched along as far as to the foot of the mountain-chain, and the teaming life astir there that pressed up to the very Manor itself, lost nothing of its grandeur on that account, which might have struck a stranger as well-nigh overpowering. It did seem to have made this impression upon the Baron too, for his eyes turned slowly from one end of the valley to the other, while he remarked:
"A mighty creation is this Odensburg! Why, you have caused to spring up here a regular city, in the solitude of mountains and forests. Those huge buildings there that tower aloft in the center, are–"
"Those are the cylinders and foundries: yonder, farther on, are the forges."
"And those grounds to the right, that look almost like a colony of villas?"
"Those are the residences of our officers; the workmen's homes lie on the other side. To be sure I have only been able to accommodate the very smallest number in Odensburg, the most of them living about in the adjoining villages."
"I know, Eric showed me as we rode along. How many workmen, exactly, do you employ, Herr Dernburg?"
"Nine thousand here in the works: the mines up in the mountains have their own force of laborers, and their own officers."
Wildenrod looked at the man, who, with such perfect composure and evidently through no impulse of vanity, unfolded before him the description of a power and wealth that would have made any other man dizzy. Each one of those mines and furnaces, that he mentioned so casually, represented a fortune: of his other estates, that ranked among the richest in the province, he spoke not at all. And moreover, there was not the slightest trace of boasting in his words, he simply gave information asked for, nothing further. The Baron leaned against the stone parapet and looked out again, then he said slowly:
"I had already heard a great deal of your Odensburg from Eric and others, but to form a conception of the magnificence of the scale upon which the enterprise is planned one must see it with his own eyes. It must be an intoxicating feeling to know one's self to be the absolute ruler of such a world, and to be able to put ten thousand men in motion by a single word."
"It took me thirty years to reach that point," answered Dernburg coolly. "He who has had to battle for every victory won, and mount upward step by step, is not the one to be intoxicated by success. There is many a heavy burden to bear, too, which you, Herr von Wildenrod would hardly take upon yourself. The management of the property inherited from your father was a load that you shook off."
There was a certain asperity in these last words, that was understood, too, but Wildenrod evinced no sensitiveness, he quietly answered:
"You mean to reproach me for the course I took Herr Dernburg–"
"Not so; what right would I have to do such a thing? Every man's life cannot be shaped after the same model. The one seeks his happiness in work, the other–"
"In idling, do you think?"
"In the enjoyments of life, I wanted to say."
"Nevertheless I expressed your thought, and alas! I must own that you are right. But I never was attracted by activity on any but a large scale, and my inheritance was no vast estate adequate to bring this impulse into play. I could not bear to bury myself in barren monotony of every-day country life, in the wearisome round of a management that any good overseer could conduct as well as myself. I was not made for that sort of thing."
"Why, then, did you not stay in the diplomatic service?" remarked Dernburg. "Certainly there was a field commensurate with the widest ambition."
It was an expression of unspeakable bitterness that curled Wildenrod's lips at this question, to be sure only for a second, when he quietly replied:
"Personal considerations were to blame. I had had disagreements with the chief of the bureau, believed myself slighted and overlooked, hence rashly broke my supposed chains, in a fit of sensitiveness. I was still young at that time, and the wide world with its dreams of a golden future, attracted me irresistibly–how the prospect changes, with the lapse of time! I have long since felt that my life lacked serious purpose and will feel this yet more sensibly after Cecilia leaves me. Deep dissatisfaction results from leading such an existence."
"For which you have to bear the sole responsibility, yourself," said Dernburg gravely. "You are still in the enjoyment of a full manly vigor, you have an independent fortune–Only come to a resolve."
"Quite right, a resolve is what is needed, and yet that is precisely what I have not been able to make up my mind to. To me toil and industry ever presented themselves under the image of what was small and wearisome. Here, in sight of your Odensburg, I comprehend for the first time, what a power lies in it, and what incredible results it can achieve. That could stir me up too, engage my every power, I admit. Will you kindly afford 'the idler,' Herr Dernburg, a deeper insight into your world of work? Perhaps he may yet profit by the lesson."
There was something uncommonly winning in this request and the whole manner of the Baron, and Dernburg was very agreeably impressed by this candor. His hitherto rather cool civility gave way now to a warmer tone, as he answered:
"I shall be delighted if Odensburg gives you such lessons. I indeed have had to plow my way through all the pettiness and weariness of routine. If I had not bestirred head and arms, probably the simple forge bequeathed me by my father, would still be standing here–but then, everybody need not handle a spade with one's own hands. If everybody only does something, and fills the place allotted him in life that is the main thing after all."
CHAPTER VI.
TO WHICH MORE THAN ONE CHARMER CHARMS
In the parlors, meanwhile, Cecilia formed the center of the group drawn up around the fireplace. She could be very amiable when she pleased, and her young sister-in-law was perfectly enchanted by her, while Eric who, to-day in general, had neither eyes nor ears for any one but his betrothed, hardly stirred from her side. Only Egbert Runeck took no part in the conversation. He looked out upon the terrace where those two gentlemen were engaged in such lively conversation, and then again his eyes rested upon the young Baroness; but in doing so his brow contracted almost threateningly.
"No, Eric, you need not try to persuade me that there ever is any spring here in your fatherland," exclaimed Cecilia laughing. "On the Riviera flowers have been blooming and diffusing sweet odors for months past; but since we have crossed the Alps, we have had nothing but storms and cold. And now, to crown all, this ride to Odensburg! Everywhere wintry wastes, nothing but the melancholy green of these everlasting fir-forests, besides mist and clouds and, for a change, sleety rain! Dear me! how I freeze in your cold, gray Germany."
She shivered, every movement she made, somehow adding charms to her naïve beauty, and then turned to the fire:
"In your Germany?" repeated Eric with tender reproach in his tone. "But, Cecilia, it is your Germany as well!"
"Of