No Surrender. E. Werner

The whole landscape lay in bright sunshine. Clear as a mirror gleamed the broad smooth surface of the lake, faithfully reflecting the image of the town which rose in picturesque beauty on its shores, whilst in the distance, vividly distinct, appeared the jagged peaks and dazzling summits of the snow-mountains.

A suburb rich in villas and gardens lined the shore. In its midst stood a pretty, detached habitation of modest aspect. It was a one-storied cottage, by no means spacious, and showing signs of no special luxury within or without. An open vine-traceried veranda formed well-nigh its sole ornament; yet there was an air of refinement about the little place, and it had a right friendly pleasant look, thanks to its fresh white walls and green jalousies; while the surrounding garden, not very large, truly, but highly cultivated, and stretching away to the border of the lake, had a peculiar charm of its own, and greatly added to the general attractiveness of the little country-house.

In the veranda, which afforded ample protection from the sun's ardent rays, and where, even at noonday, a certain degree of coolness might be enjoyed, two gentlemen were pacing, talking as they walked.

The elder of the two was a man of, it might be, about fifty years; but old age seemed to have come upon him prematurely, for his form was bent and his hair as grey as it could well be. The deeply-furrowed face, too, bore evidence of bygone struggles, perhaps of sorrows and sufferings of many kinds endured in the past, and the sharp, bitter lines about the mouth gave a harsh and almost hostile expression to a countenance which must once have been bright with ardour and intelligence. In the eye alone there still blazed a fire which neither years nor the hard experiences of life had had power to quench, and which was in singular contrast with the silvered head and drooping carriage.

His companion was much younger; a man slender of build and of average height, with features which, though not strictly regular, were yet in the highest degree attractive, and grave, earnest blue eyes. His light chestnut hair waved over a fine open forehead. There was that slight paleness of complexion which tells not of sickliness, but of keen intellectual activity and a constant mental strain; and the predominant expression was one of quiet steadfastness, such as is but rarely stamped on a face at seven or eight and twenty. There could hardly be a sharper contrast than that afforded by these two men.

"So you are really going to leave us already George?" asked the elder, in a regretful tone.

The young man smiled.

"Already? I think I have made claim enough on your hospitality, Doctor. When I came, I had no intention of staying on for weeks; but you received me with such hearty kindness, I might have been some near and dear relation, instead of a stranger who could only boast a college friendship with your son. I shall never forget----"

"Pray do not thank me for that which has been a pleasure to myself," the Doctor interrupted him. "I only fear that at home you may have to pay a penalty for the hospitality you have here enjoyed. To have stayed at my house will be accounted a crime in Assessor Winterfeld--a crime which will hardly meet with forgiveness. I have never concealed from you the fact that your visit here is a venture which may compromise your whole position."

The ironical tone of this warning called up a transient flush to young Winterfeld's brow, and accounted for the vivacity with which he answered:

"I think I have shown you that I am capable of maintaining my own independence under all and any circumstances. My position, I should hope, lays me under no obligation to avoid friendly relations which are of a purely private nature."

"You think not? I am convinced of the contrary. On your return we shall see which of us is right. Remember this, George; you are under Baron von Raven's régime."

"I do not imagine that my chief troubles himself greatly about the holiday excursions of his officials," said George, quietly. "He is severe, inexorable even, in all matters relating to the service, but he never interferes in our private concerns. That justice I must do him, though I do not rank among his friends, I am, as you know, a thorough-going opponent of the tendencies he represents, and therefore personally opposed to himself; albeit, as his subordinate,

Скачать книгу