Vineta, the Phantom City

"I know that we are both entirely dependent upon you, and I also know that I have insulted you, although not intentionally and deliberately. How can I accept everything from your hands?"

"You have not insulted me," said Waldemar, gravely. "On the contrary, you are the only one who has been true to me. I thank you for opening my eyes to Wanda's real character, and to the plot she laid for me. All enmity between us is at an end."

Leo was overwhelmed with mortification; he well knew that jealousy alone had driven him to the step which called forth his brother's thanks. He had come prepared for a violent scene with Waldemar, and this apparent indifference and self-control quite unmanned him. He was still too superficial a judge of human nature to see or to suspect what lay concealed beneath Waldemar's strange composure, and what it cost him. He accepted it for genuine; but he did perceive clearly that his brother was resolved to allow him and his mother no reparation for the past, and that he still insisted upon giving them a home at Villica. He knew that he himself would be incapable of such magnanimity, and on this very account he felt it more deeply.

"Waldemar, I sincerely regret the wrong we have done you in the past," he said, extending his hand. This time the movement was not forced; it came from his whole heart, and his brother accepted it.

"Promise me that you will accompany our mother to Villica," said Waldemar; "if you really think you have wronged me, this shall be your reparation."

Leo bowed assent, and his opposition was at an end.

"Will you not bid our mother good-bye?" Leo asked, after a slight pause. "Your neglect to do so will pain her deeply."

Waldemar's lips curled in a derisive smile as he answered, "She will endure it. Good-bye, Leo, I am very glad to have seen you once more."

The young prince gazed for a moment into his brother's face, and then yielding to a sudden impulse, threw his arms around his neck. Waldemar submitted to the embrace in silence, but did not return it, although it was the first between them.

"Farewell," Leo said, distantly, unclasping his arms.

A few moments after, the carriage which had brought the unexpected visitor rolled out of the gate, and Waldemar entered the house. Whoever now saw him with his quivering lips, drawn features, and fixed melancholy glance, must have understood the nature of the composure he had maintained during this whole interview. His wounded pride had asserted itself; Leo must not see that he suffered, and least of all tell it in C–. But now that self-control was no longer needful, the wound bled anew. Waldemar's love had been violent and impetuous like his whole nature; it had been the first tender emotion aroused in the heart of this isolated, uncultured youth. He had adored Wanda with all the ardor of a first passion, and the sudden annihilation of his cherished ideal had wrought a radical change in his whole being.

CHAPTER XI.

THE NEW RÉGIME AT VILLICA

Villica Castle, which gave name to the broad territory surrounding it, formed the central point of a large number of estates lying very near the Polish border. So extensive a landed property is seldom found in the possession of one individual, and seldom does a proprietor have so little care of his broad acres as the elder Herr Nordeck had for Villica. During his lifetime the estates had no organized, judicious management. He had acquired his property in the way of speculation, and remained a speculator to the end. He had been fitted neither socially nor practically for the position of a wealthy landlord. He had leased all his farms and estates with the exception of Villica, his own place of residence, and this was given over to the care of a superintendent. The chief revenue of the estates came from the extensive forests which covered nearly two thirds of the land, and required the assistance of a whole army of foresters, who formed a sort of society by themselves.

Herr Witold, who, at Nordeck's death, was left guardian of the infant heir and manager of the property, did not change the existing order of affairs. Although well fitted to control a small estate like Altenhof, every detail of which passed through his hands, he was not qualified for the far more difficult task of superintending the vast concerns of Villica; he was a poor manager, and a worse disciplinarian. Having a profound faith in human nature, and believing most persons honest as himself, he accepted the bills and receipts handed him without question, and conscientiously invested all returns in the interest of his ward. While he flattered himself that his duties were thoroughly discharged, he really allowed the officials to do as they pleased. Such management would have brought ruin to a less valuable estate, but it could not irretrievably injure Nordeck's property; for if thousands were lost, hundreds of thousands still remained; the immense income of the property not only covered any chance deficiency, but went to swell the original amount. This income, under proper management, might have been far greater, but neither Witold nor the young heir cared to increase it. Very soon after attaining his majority, Waldemar went to the university, and as he passed his vacations in travelling, he had not visited Villica for several years.

Villica Castle formed a striking contrast to most of the residences of the neighboring gentry, which scarce deserved the name of castle, and whose gradual dilapidation and decay could be concealed by no attempts at outward splendor. Villica bore its honors proudly as an old princely and seigniorial residence, dating back for nearly two centuries, from that brilliant epoch of Poland when the power of the nobility equaled their wealth, and when their residences were scenes of a splendor and luxury seldom known in our day. The palace could not really be called beautiful; it would scarce have found favor in an artist's eye. In its plan and construction it bore evidences of uncultivated, almost barbaric tastes, but the massiveness of its proportions and the grandeur of its location made its general effect very imposing. In spite of all the changes and alterations more modern ideas had given it, Castle Villica still retained its original character; the solid walls, with their long rows of windows, rose grandly and picturesquely from the extensive park encircled by primeval forests.

For many years after Herr Nordeck's death the castle had remained uninhabited. The young heir came seldom; he was always accompanied by his guardian, and his visits were very brief; but when the former mistress of Villica, the now widowed Princess Zulieski, again took up her abode there, the old place wore a different aspect. The long-closed apartments were reopened, and their original splendor was fully restored. Waldemar had made over to his mother all the revenues of the estate immediately belonging to the castle; these revenues, although forming only a small portion of his income, were ample for the princess and her younger son, allowing the lady even that large sum which she required to live "conformably to her position." She saved nothing of the liberal amount placed at her disposal, and her surroundings and style of living were as elegant as they had been when she came a young bride to Villica, and when her husband still took delight in displaying his wealth to her and to her relatives.

It was the beginning of October. The autumn wind blew chill over the forests, whose foliage had begun to put on those hues so beautiful and yet so sad, which tell of speedy decay and dissolution. The sun vainly struggled to pierce the dense mists that enveloped the landscape, and it was high noon today ere his rays illumined the state parlor of Villica, and the room adjoining, which the princess called her study, and where most of her time was spent. It was a large apartment, with high walls and vaulted ceilings, deep window recesses, and a huge fireplace in which a wood-fire was now burning.

The heavy, green velvet curtains were thrown back, admitting the full sunlight, which revealed the massive splendor of the furniture, green being the prevailing color in the carpet and upholstery. The princess and her brother, Count Morynski, sat there alone. The count and his daughter often came from their estate to pass days and even weeks at Villica; and they had come to-day, intending to make a long visit. The prince was looking much older than at our first meeting with him: his hair was gray, his brow more furrowed; but otherwise his grave, expressive face had not changed. The princess did not look a day older; the features of the still handsome woman were as cold and proud, her manner as haughty and distant, as ever. She had laid aside deep mourning, but still wore black of a very rich material, which was exceedingly becoming to her. She was engaged in earnest conversation with her brother.

"I do not understand how this news can surprise you," she said; "we should have been prepared for it long ago. I have always wondered how Waldemar could remain so long away from his estates."

"It is this very circumstance that makes me surprised at his coming now," returned the count. "When he has so long avoided Villica, why does he come so suddenly, and without any previous intimation. What is the object of his visit?"

"O, merely to hunt," said the princess; "he inherits his father's passion for the chase. I am convinced that he chose the university of J– solely from its nearness to a forest, and that, instead of attending the lectures, he has been roaming about all day long with his rifle and game-bag. He probably passed his time in the same way on his travels, he really understands nothing thoroughly but the chase."

"He could not come at a worse time for us. Just now everything depends upon your remaining absolute mistress here. My estate lies too far distant from the frontier; there we are watched on all sides, and meet with obstacles at every turn. We must retain control of Villica."

"I know it, and I shall take care that it remains in our hands. You are right: Waldemar's visit comes most inopportunely, but I cannot prevent his visiting his own estates. We must exercise all the greater precaution."

"Precaution alone will not answer," returned the count, impatiently. "As matters stand, we must give up all our plans while Waldemar is in the house; and delays are dangerous."

"This will not be needful; he will be within doors very little, unless I mistake the attraction our forests will have for his Nimrod nature. Hunting was his father's mania, making him indifferent to all else; Waldemar resembles him perfectly in this respect. We shall seldom have sight of him; he will remain in the woods all day, and will not pay the slightest attention to what is going on within doors. The only thing here that can possibly interest him is his father's large collection of weapons, which we will gladly make over to him."

The princess said this with a sort of compassionate irony; but the count answered, doubtfully and hesitatingly,–

"You have not seen Waldemar for four years; then he obeyed you in all things. I hope you can as easily influence him now."

"I think I can; he is not so hard to manage as you suppose. If you yield for the moment to his rude impetuosity, and make him believe that he will have his own way in any event, you have him completely in your power. If we remind him daily that he is absolute master of Villica, he will never think of becoming so in reality. I do not consider him intelligent enough to make a thorough examination into affairs here. We need have no concern."

"As I have met Waldemar only twice, I must depend entirely upon your judgment. When did you receive his letter?"

"This morning, an hour before your arrival. We may expect him very soon. He writes in his usual laconic style, avoiding all details."

"Is he coming alone?" asked the count, gravely.

"His former tutor, who is his constant companion, will be with him. I thought I might gain some definite information from this man in regard to my son's studies at the university; but I was deceived in him. In answer to my inquiries, I obtained nothing but some learned disquisitions upon special studies,–not a word of what I desired to know. This Doctor Fabian is one of the most unobtrusive and harmless of men. You need fear nothing from his presence nor his influence, for he really has no influence."

"Waldemar is the one with whom we have to do; if you think we need fear no strict observation from him–"

"No close observation, at all events; nothing like that to which we have been subjected for months," interrupted the princess. "I thought the superintendent had taught us precaution."

"Yes, this man Frank and his whole household are playing the spy upon us," exclaimed Count Morynski, vehemently. "I cannot understand, Maryna, why you do not rid yourself of such an intrusive person."

The princess smiled in conscious superiority.

"Give yourself no further uneasiness, Bronislaw," she said; "the man will leave in a few days. I could not dismiss him; he has held his position for twenty years, and has managed excellently. I preferred to treat him in such a manner as to induce him to resign. He has done so orally; the formal notice will not be long deferred. I preferred that it should come from his side, as Waldemar's arrival is so near."

"It was high time," returned the count, with a smile of intense satisfaction. "He was beginning to be dangerous to us. Unfortunately, we shall be obliged to tolerate his presence a while longer; his contract doubtless specifies some months' notice."

"Certainly; but I think he will prefer to leave at once. He has for a long time been above his position; it is said that he proposes buying an estate for himself; he in fact possesses a very independent spirit. If I can only manage to bring about a scene in which he feels his pride wounded, he will leave at once. This will not be difficult, now that he has resolved to go.–What, Leo, are you already back from your walk?"

These last words were addressed to the young prince, who now entered the room.

"Wanda did not wish to remain longer in the park," he said. "I hope I do not intrude upon your conversation."

"Not at all," said the count, rising. "We have just been notified of Waldemar's speedy return, and were discussing its unavoidable results. One of them will be that Wanda and I must shorten our visit; but we shall remain and take part in the festivities arranged for to-morrow evening, and then return home the next day. I do not think he will be here before that time; in any event, we cannot stay in the house as his guests."

"Why not?" asked the princess. "Is it because of that childish affair? Wanda has certainly forgotten it, and you will not find Waldemar, after the lapse of four years, still brooding over that fancied insult. His heart was never deeply enlisted, for only a week after he told Leo, with the utmost composure, that he had forgotten all about the affair. Our remaining at Villica is conclusive proof that he cherishes no resentment. The best course for us all is to entirely ignore the whole occurrence. If Wanda meets him cordially as his cousin, he will scarcely recollect that he ever had a boyish fancy for her."

"I quite approve of your idea," said the count, turning to leave the room, "and I shall mention it to Wanda."

Leo had taken no part in the conversation, but after his uncle's departure he flung himself angrily into the vacant chair.

"Your walk ended suddenly," said the princess; "where is Wanda?"

"In her room–I suppose."

"You have had another quarrel; do not attempt to deny it, Leo. Your face tells it plainly enough, and you would never leave Wanda if she did not drive you from her."

"She takes a peculiar delight in driving me away," said Leo, bitterly.

"You constantly annoy her with your unfounded jealousy of every one who approaches her," replied the princess.

Leo was silent, and his mother went on,–

"It is an old proverb that if love has no thorns, it will itself create them. You and Wanda have no obstacles to encounter; you may follow the bent of your affections with the full approval of your parents, and yet you are often wretched. I do not hold Wanda blameless; I am not blind to her talents, her accomplishments and her beauty; but her father has spoiled her with his unreasoning indulgence. She knows no will but her own, and even you dare not rebel against her."

"I assure you, mamma, I did rebel to-day," replied Leo, in a resentful tone.

"Yes, perhaps you asserted yourself to-day, but to-morrow you will be at her feet, begging forgiveness. She has many a time brought you there. Can I never convince you that this is not the way to gain from a proud, headstrong girl like Wanda the respect which is due her future husband?"

"I am incapable of coolly deliberating as to what will prove for my future advantage when I adore with all the ardor of my soul," replied Leo, passionately.

"Then do not complain if your passion does not meet with the desired response. My knowledge of Wanda convinces me that she will never love a man who yields unconditionally to her control. A nature like hers needs to be forced to love; you do not understand her."

"I have no right to Wanda's love," replied Leo, angrily. "I am not allowed to call her my betrothed, and the time of our marriage is indefinitely postponed."

"Because the present moment, when your country's welfare is at stake, is no time to think of betrothal or of marriage; because you have now other and more serious duties to perform than to worship and adore a young wife. You need not say that the marriage is postponed indefinitely, when the delay will not be more than a year, at the longest. Show yourself worthy of Wanda; earn the hand of your bride; opportunity will not be wanting. But, Leo, I have something to say to you which must not longer be deferred; your uncle is displeased with you."

"Has he been complaining of me?" the young man asked, morosely.

"Unfortunately, he has been obliged to do so. Need I remind you that you owe deference and obedience to your uncle under all circumstances? And yet you have placed yourself at the head of several young men of your own age, and openly oppose his political plans and wishes."

"We are no longer children who must submit to be led as if we had no will of our own," replied Leo, defiantly. "Even though we are young, we have a right to our own opinions, and we cannot much longer endure this everlasting hesitation and delay."

"Do you suppose that my brother will allow your youthful, fiery ardor to lead him and his cause on to certain ruin? He finds it very difficult to reconcile and restrain the opposing elements, and it cuts him to the heart to see his own nephew setting an example of disobedience?"

"I have opposed him in words only, never in deeds. I honor and love Count Morynski as your brother and as Wanda's father, but I must be allowed some independence of thought and action. You have often enough told me that my name and ancestry entitle me to a leading position, and yet my uncle requires me to be content with a subordinate one."

"He does not dare intrust momentous interests to a fiery head of twenty-two years; you entirely misunderstand your uncle. An heir has been denied him, and although Wanda is his idol, the hopes that can be realized only through a son rest solely upon you, who are allied to him in blood, and will soon be called his son. Although he considers it necessary to restrain you for the present, you are his main dependence in the future; he looks to you to carry out the plans his years and failing health will not permit him to realize. I have his word that when the decisive moment comes, Prince Leo Zulieski will assume the position which is his due. We both hope that you may prove yourself worthy."

"Can you doubt it?" asked Leo, with glowing cheeks and flashing eyes.

The mother laid her hand soothingly upon his arm. "We do not doubt your courage, but we question your discretion. You have your father's temperament; in his fiery zeal and ardor he had little thought for consequences, and his yielding to generous but misguided impulses brought untold sorrow upon both him and me. But you are also my son, Leo, and I think you must have inherited some traits from your mother. I have told my brother that I would answer to him for your loyalty and obedience; it is for you to redeem the pledge."

So much maternal pride was expressed in these words, that Leo threw his arms around his mother's neck, and assured her of his entire devotion to her wishes. The princess smiled, and all a mother's tenderness lay in her look and tone, as, returning her son's embrace, she said,–

"I need not repeat to you, Leo, the hopes I have so often expressed in regard to your future. You have always been my only one, my all."

"Your only one!" returned Leo. "Have I not a brother Waldemar?"

The princess started. At mention of this name all the tenderness vanished from her voice and features. Her face resumed its usual severe expression, and her voice was icy-cold, as she said,–

"Ah, yes! I had quite forgotten him. Fate has made him master of Villica–we must endure him!"

CHAPTER XII.

THE NEW CONSPIRATORS

Not far from the manor-house of Villica stood the dwelling of Superintendent Frank. The castle was quite aloof from the other houses. Whether occupied or not, it had always an air of aristocratic seclusion. Villica itself was in charge of an official whose stately residence, with the tenant-houses around it, nearly all of them new, formed a striking contrast to those of the neighboring estates, and were regarded throughout that region as unique and admirable models. The position of superintendent of Villica was one that many a proprietor might have craved, both for the income and the style of living.

It was growing dark. The whole row of windows on the second floor of the castle began to be illuminated; the princess was giving a large party. There were as yet no lights in the superintendent's sitting-room, the two gentlemen who sat there being so absorbed in conversation that they did not heed the gathering darkness.

The elder gentleman, who was in the full vigor of middle life, had a fine face, an imposing figure, and a complexion bronzed by exposure to sun and weather. The younger man was of a pale, delicate complexion, which bore no trace of the life and surroundings of the country. Although below the medium height, he might still be called a handsome man. His carefully curled hair and fashionable apparel gave him a somewhat foppish appearance, but he was really devoid of affectation. His speech and manner indicated a vast amount of dignity and importance, which formed a ludicrous contrast to his diminutive stature.

"My mind is fully made up, I shall go," the elder man said. "I told the princess that I would do her the favor of leaving Villica, as her man[oe]uvres had for some time past tended in that direction. I got no further, for her Majesty interrupted me with, 'My dear Frank, I sincerely regret your determination, but I cannot oppose it. Be assured that my son and I can never forget your long and faithful service at Villica.' And she said this to me–to one, whom she has systematically driven away! Her look and tone awed me into silence. I had resolved to free my mind, and tell her the unvarnished truth, and–I made a bow, and left."

"The princess is a remarkable woman," said the younger gentleman, "but a very dangerous one. We who belong to the government have proofs of this fact. I tell you, Herr Frank, she is a menace to the whole province."

"I cannot see that her influence extends beyond Villica. She has done much harm here. She has succeeded in bringing everything under her control. I was the last stumbling-block, and she is now to be rid of me. Believe me, Herr Assessor, I have endured this state of things as long as possible, not for the sake of retaining my position,–God knows I can stand upon my own feet any day,–but because it pained me to know that all I have done in twenty years would be in vain if the old Polish troubles should revive. I came here two years after Nordeck's death. His son was at Altenhof with his guardian, and tenants, foresters, and overseers were having a jolly time. Here at Villica affairs were managed worst of all. My predecessor had stolen so openly and so shamelessly that even Herr Witold became alarmed and suddenly discharged him. The castle, of whose splendor wonderful tales were told far and near, was closed, and I can give you no idea of the aspect of things in the village and around the estate. The dwellings of the tenants were wretched, dilapidated wood and day huts; all was chaos and disorder. The servants were fawning, hypocritical, and full of national hatred of the Germans; the fields were in a condition appalling to a good farmer. It was six months before I could have my wife and children with me, for there was not a decent place for them to live in. How could things be otherwise? The deceased Nordeck had done nothing but hunt and quarrel with his wife, and Herr Witold did simply nothing at all. If the accounts were only laid before him in black and white, and balanced the expenditures, he was satisfied, and did not ask whether the pretended outlay had really been made.