Vineta, the Phantom City. E. Werner
then they would be out of the way,–for a time, at least. This young Zulieski must be a prodigy of learning; you are always harping upon his acquirements."
"Leo has learned far more than I, and yet he is nearly four years younger."
"His mother, no doubt, has kept him constantly at his books; but he probably has had but one tutor, while six have run away from you, and the seventh is tempted to remain only for reasons connected with his own scientific researches."
"And why have I not been kept at my books?" asked young Nordeck, excitedly and reproachfully.
"I really believe the boy blames me because I have let him have his own way in everything!" exclaimed Witold, in an injured tone.
"O, no. You meant well, uncle, but you don't know how I feel at seeing Leo ahead of me in all his studies, especially when I hear them all speaking of his need of further culture, and I standing there so uncultivated, so– But, never mind, I may as well tell you at once: I am going to the university."
Herr Witold was so astonished that he let the sofa-cushion he was in the act of arranging, fall to the floor.
"To the university?" he repeated.
"Certainly. Doctor Fabian has for months been urging it."
"And for months you have refused."
"I have entirely changed my mind. Leo is going next year; and if he is ready to enter at nineteen, it is high time I were there. I must not remain the inferior of my younger brother. I shall consult Doctor Fabian to-morrow. Now I will go to the stable myself and see that Norman is saddled. I am all out of patience at waiting so long."
With these words he took his hat from the table and rushed out of doors. Herr Witold sat motionless on the sofa, quite forgetting to arrange the cushions for his afternoon siesta. He was too much surprised and excited for repose.
"Doctor, what has happened to the lad? What have you done to my boy?" he angrily cried out to the inoffensive doctor, who was just entering the room.
"I?" echoed the poor doctor, in alarm; "nothing, Herr Witold. Waldemar has just gone out from your presence."
"I do not mean to reproach you," returned Herr Witold, peevishly; "it is those Zulieskis and Morynskis. Since they have had him in hand he has become a changed being, I can do nothing with him. Only think, he wants to go to the university!"
"Ah, indeed!" returned the doctor, with a smile of satisfaction.
The guardian became still more exasperated at the tutor's evident delight. "O, you seem in ecstasies," he said; "you desire nothing more than to get away from here with your pupil, and leave me without a living soul to keep me company."
"You well know that I have always advised a university course for your ward. Unfortunately, I have never been listened to, and if the princess Zulieski has persuaded Waldemar to take this step, I can only consider her influence a salutary one."
"Go to the devil with your salutary influences!" cried the old man, hurling the unoffending sofa-cushion into the middle of the room. "We shall soon see what lies concealed under all this. Something has happened to the lad: he wanders about in broad daylight as if dreaming; he takes no interest in anything around him, and when questioned, gives the most preposterous answers. He returns empty-handed from the chase–he who never missed his aim; and all at once a dogged resolution enters his head to go to the university! I must find out the cause of this transformation, and you, doctor, shall help me. You must accompany him to C–."
"For heaven's sake, don't think of such a thing!" cried Doctor Fabian. "No, and a thousand times no! What should I do there?"
"Keep your eyes open. Something is going on over there, I have no doubt of that. I cannot go myself, for I stand on a war-footing with the princess, and there is always a pitched battle when we meet. I cannot endure her patronizing ways, and she is horrified at my rudeness. But you, doctor, stand on neutral ground; you are just the man."
The doctor still protested. "I am not at all qualified for such a mission," he said; "you know my timidity and helplessness in the presence of strangers, and particularly of ladies. And, besides, Waldemar will never consent to my accompanying him."
"Your protests are of no avail," interrupted Herr Witold, in a dictatorial tone. "You must go to C–, Doctor Fabian; you are the only person in whom I can place confidence. You will not fail me when I most need you." And he stormed the citadel of the doctor's never stubborn will with such an avalanche of entreaties, reproaches, and arguments, that the poor man, half bewildered, yielded, promising to do all that was required of him.
A sound of horse's hoofs was heard outside. Waldemar gave the rein to his fleet Norman, and without even a glance at the window where his guardian sat watching him, galloped away.
"There he goes!" said Witold, half angrily, half admiringly, as his adopted son swept past. "That boy sits his horse as if he and his horse were cast in bronze. And it is no slight matter to manage Norman."
"Waldemar has a peculiar passion for riding wild, young horses," observed the doctor, with a touch of anxiety. "I do not understand why. Norman should be his favorite; he is the most unmanageable beast in the whole stable."
"That is the very reason," said the guardian, laughing. "If the young fellow does not have something to subdue and to break, he cannot be happy. But come now, doctor, we will talk over your mission. You must begin the affair diplomatically."
So saying, he grasped the doctor's arm, and almost forced him to take a seat near him on the sofa. The poor tutor could do nothing but submit patiently; he had all his life yielded to the will of others, and now his only protest was to murmur sadly, yet scarce audibly,–
"I a diplomatist, Herr Witold? God help me!"
CHAPTER VII.
STRATEGY AND JEALOUSY
The princess and her family mingled but very little in the society of C–, and of late they had lived even more retired than usual. Waldemar always found the family alone when he made his visits, which had become very frequent. Count Morynski, after a few days' sojourn, had departed for his estates. It had been his intention to take his daughter along with him, but the princess considered a prolonged stay necessary to Wanda's health, and she knew how to win her brother's consent, which was somewhat reluctantly granted.
In spite of the excessive noonday heat, young Nordeck had ridden in exceeding haste. Upon entering his mother's presence, he found her seated at her writing-desk. If Leo had appeared in such a heated condition, she certainly would have had a word of solicitude or of admonition for him; but Waldemar's appearance, if noticed, called forth no comment. Although this mother and son met very frequently, not the slightest confidence or intimacy had sprung up between them. The princess treated Waldemar with the greatest respect, and he endeavored to restrain his rough impulses in her presence; but there was not the least affection in this mutual effort to maintain a good understanding. They could not cross the invisible chasm that still yawned between them, although an unusual influence had bridged it over for the present. They greeted each other coldly as at their first meeting, but Waldemar's eyes wandered restlessly and inquiringly about the room.
"Are you looking for Leo and Wanda?" asked the princess. "They have gone to the beach, and will meet you there. You have doubtless arranged a sail?"
"Yes; and I will join them at once," said Waldemar, moving hastily toward the door, but his mother laid her hand upon his arm.
"Before you go, I would like to speak with you a few moments. I have something of importance to say to you."
"Will it not answer just as well after our return?" asked Waldemar, impatiently.
"I desire to speak with you alone," the princess replied. "You will still be in time for the sail; it can be postponed for a quarter of an hour."
Young Nordeck showed great annoyance at this request, and accepted his mother's invitation to be seated with evident reluctance. It was impossible to fix his attention, for his eyes constantly turned to the window near which he sat, and which commanded a view of the sea-shore.
"Our sojourn in C– is drawing to a close,"