Transcriber's Note:
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RIVEN BONDS.

A Novel,

IN TWO VOLUMES.

TRANSLATED BY

BERTHA NESS,

FROM THE ORIGINAL OF E. WERNER,

Author of "SUCCESS AND HOW HE WON IT,"
"UNDER A CHARM," &c.

VOL. I.

London:
REMINGTON AND CO.,
5, Arundel Street, Strand, W.C.

1877.

[All Rights Reserved.]

RIVEN BONDS.

CHAPTER I.

The curtain fell amid thunders of applause from the whole house. Boxes, pit, and gallery unanimously demanded the reappearance of the singer, who, in the finale of the act just concluded, had carried all away with her. The whole audience became excited, and would not be calmed, until, greeted with applause, which broke forth with renewed vigour, overwhelmed with flowers, wreaths, and homage of all kinds, the object of this ovation showed herself, in order to thank the public.

"This is quite like an evening in an Italian theatre," said an elderly gentleman, entering one of the boxes in the first tier. "Signora Biancona seems to understand the art of filling the otherwise quiet and smoothly-flowing patrician blood of our noble Hanseatic town with the fire of her Southern home. The infatuation for her begins to be quite an epidemic. If it continue to increase in this way, we shall see the Exchange voting her a torchlight procession, and the Senate of this free town, appearing before her in corpore, to lay their homage at her feet. Were I in your place, Herr Consul, I should make this proposition to both these Corporations. I am sure it would meet with an enthusiastic reception."

The gentleman to whom these words were addressed, and who was sitting by a lady, apparently his wife, in the front of the box, seemed unable to withdraw himself from the universal excitement. He had applauded with an energy and perseverance worthy of a better cause, and turned round now, half-laughing, half-annoyed.

"I was sure of it; the critic must place himself in opposition to the general voice. Certainly, Herr Doctor, in your abominable morning paper, you spare neither Exchange nor Senate; how, then, could Signora Biancona hope to find mercy?"

The Doctor smiled a little maliciously, and drew near to the lady's chair, when a young man, who had been sitting beside her, rose politely to make way for him.

"Herr Almbach," said the lady, introducing them, "Herr Dr. Welding, the editor of our morning paper, whose pen--"

"For Heaven's sake, my dear madam," interrupted Welding, "do not throw discredit on me, at once, in the gentleman's eyes. One has only to be introduced as critic to a young artist, and immediately one gains his deepest antipathy."

"Possibly," laughed the Consul, "but this time your keenness has failed you. Herr Almbach, thank goodness, can never be in a position to come before your judgment seat. He is a merchant."

"Merchant!" a look of astonishment was turned towards the young man, "then I certainly apologise for my mistake. I should have taken you for an artist."

"There, you see, dear Almbach, your forehead and eyes do you a bad turn again," said the Consul, playfully. "What would your people at home say to the exchange? I almost fear they would look upon it as an insult."

"Perhaps. I do not consider it as such," said Almbach, bowing slightly to Welding. The words were intended to carry on the joking tone that was begun, but there lay in them a half-concealed bitterness, which did not escape Dr. Welding. He fixed his eyes searchingly on the young stranger's features; but just at that moment the lady turned towards him, and resumed the interrupted topic.

"You must allow, Herr Doctor, that Biancona was quite ravishing to-night. This young, dawning talent is indeed, a new star in our theatrical firmament."

"Which will some time become a shining sun, if it carry out what to-day it promises. Certainly, dear madam; I do not deny it at all, even although this future sun shows a few spots and imperfections at present, which naturally escape so enthusiastic a public."

"Well then, I advise you not to lay too much stress on these imperfections," said the Consul, pointing to the pit. "There, below, sits an army of knights, infatuated about the Signora. Take care, Herr Doctor, or you will receive at least six challenges."

The malicious smile played round Welding's lips again, as he cast a glance of irony towards young Almbach, who had listened silently, but with darkly lowering brow, to the conversation.

"And perhaps a seventh, also! Herr Almbach, for instance, seems to look upon the opinion which I have just expressed as a species of high treason."

"I regret, sir, to be so much behind you as regards criticism," coolly replied the one addressed. "I--" hereupon his eyes flashed almost passionately, "I am accustomed to worship genius unconditionally."

"A very poetical style of criticism," sneered Welding. "If you were to repeat that in person to our beautiful Signora, and in the same tone, I could promise you her most complete favour. Besides, I am this time in the pleasant position of being able to tell her in the article which will appear to-morrow, that hers is indeed a talent of the first order, that her faults and failings are only those of a beginner, and that it lies in her power to become eventually, a musical celebrity. She is not one at present."

"In the meanwhile, that is praise enough from your lips," said the Consul; "but I think we must retire now; the brilliant part of Biancona is over, the last act offers nothing for her rôle, she hardly appears again upon the stage, and our duties as hosts call us to our reception evening. May I offer you a seat in our carriage, Herr Doctor? Your critic's duty is also about at an end; and you, dear Almbach, will you accompany us, or shall you remain to the last?"

The young man had also risen. "If you and your gracious lady will allow it--the opera is new to me--I should like--"

"Very well then, remain without ceremony," interrupted the other in a friendly manner, "but be punctual to-night. We count positively upon your coming."

He gave his arm to his wife, to lead her away. Dr. Welding followed them.

"How could you think," scoffed he, when in the corridor, "that your young guest would move from the spot so long as Biancona had only one more note to sing, or that he would be debarred from helping to form a guard to her carriage with the rest of our gentlemen? The beautiful eyes of the Signora have done much harm already--he has caught fire worse than the others."

"We must hope not," said the lady, with a touch of concern in her voice. "What would his father and mother-in-law, and, above all, his young wife say?"

"Is Herr Almbach married already?" asked Welding, astonished.

"Two years since," replied the Consul. "He is nephew and son-in-law of my business correspondents. The firm is Almbach and Co., not a very important, but a most substantial, respectable house. Besides, you do the young man injustice with your suspicions; at his age one is easily carried away, particularly when, as here, one so seldom enjoys a musical treat. Between ourselves, Almbach has rather middle-class views, and keeps his son-in-law tightly by the head. He will take care that any harm which those eyes could do, shall be kept far from his house. I know him well enough on that point."

"All the better for him," said the Doctor, laconically, as he seated himself by the married pair in the carriage, which took the direction of the harbour, where the palaces of the rich business men were situated.

An hour later, a numerous company was assembled in the merchant's drawing-rooms. Consul Erlau was one of the richest, most influential men in this wealthy commercial town, and even although this circumstance was sufficient to ensure him an undisputed position, he made it, in addition, a point of honour, to hear his house called the most brilliant and hospitable in H----. His reception evenings gathered together every notability which the town had to offer. There was never a celebrity who did not appear several times, and even the star of the present season--prima donna Biancona, who was here with the temporary Italian Opera Company, had accepted the invitation which she had received, and appeared after the end of the performance. The young actress, after her evening's triumph in the theatre, was of course the centre of attraction for all the company. Besieged by the gentlemen with every species of homage, overwhelmed with compliments from the ladies, distinguished by the host and his wife with most flattering attentions, she was unable to escape from the stream of admiration which flowed towards her from all sides, and which, perhaps, was due as much to her beauty as her genius.

Both were indeed united here. Even without her highly-worshipped talent, Signora Biancona was not likely ever to be overlooked. She was one of those women, who, wherever they appear, know how to attract, and, oft to a dangerous degree, retain eye and senses; whose entrancing charms do not lie only in their beauty, but far more in the singular, almost witch-like magic, which certain natures exercise, without any one being able to account for its cause.

It seemed as if a breath of the glowing South, full of colour, lay upon this apparition, who, with her dark hair and complexion, her large, deep, black eyes, out of which shone such an ardent, full life, contrasted go strangely with these Northern surroundings. Her manner of speaking and moving was, perhaps livelier, less constrained than the rules of 'convenance' demanded, but the fire of a Southern nature, which broke forth with every emotion, had an entrancing grace. Her light ethereal-looking costume was not at all conformed to the reigning fashion, but it appeared to be especially invented to display the advantages of her figure in the best light, and held its own triumphantly amongst the more magnificent toilets of the ladies around her.

The Italian was a being who seemed to stand above all the forms and trammels of everyday life, and there was no one in the company who did not willingly accord her this distinction.

Almbach, too, had found his way here after the close of the theatre, but he was quite a stranger to the circle, and evidently remained so, notwithstanding the well-meant attempts of the Consul to make him acquainted with one or another of the guests. All fell through, partly on account of the young man's almost moody silence, partly on account of the gentlemen's manners to whom he was introduced, and who, belonging almost entirely to the circles of the Exchange and Finance, did not think it worth while to take much trouble about the representative of a small firm. He was standing quite isolated at the lower end of the room, looking apparently indifferently at the brilliant crowd, but his eyes always turned to one point, which to-night was the magnet for all the assembled gentlemen.

"Now, Herr Almbach, you make no attempt to approach the circle of the sun of the drawing-room," said Dr. Welding, coming up to him, "shall I introduce you there?"

A slight uncomfortable blush, at his secret wish having been divined, covered the young man's face.

"The Signora is so occupied on all sides that I did not venture to trouble her also."

Welding laughed, "Yes, the gentlemen all seem to follow your method of criticism, and equally to admire genius unconditionally. Well, art has the privilege of inspiring all with enthusiasm. Come, I will present you to the Signora."

They crossed to the other side of the drawing-room where, the young Italian was, but it really gave them some trouble to penetrate the circle of admirers surrounding the honoured guest, and to approach her.

The Doctor undertook the introduction; he named his companion, who, to-day, had for the first time the pleasure of admiring the Signora on the stage, and then left him to set himself at ease in the "sun's circle." This designation was not so badly chosen; there really was something of the scorching glow of this planet, at its midday height, in the glance which she now turned upon Almbach.

"Then you were also in the theatre this evening?" asked the Signora, lightly.

"Yes, Signora."

Tie answer sounded curt and gloomy; no other word, none of those compliments which the actress had heard so plentifully to-day, but the look in the young man's eyes must have made up for his monosyllabic reply. It is true that he only met Signora Biancona's for a moment, but their lighting-up was seen and understood; it said much more than all spoken flatteries.

The other gentlemen might receive no high opinion of the new arrival's social talents; who did not even understand how to make a pretty speech to a lady. They ignored him thoroughly. The conversation, in which the Consul now took part, became more general; they spoke of music, of a known composer and his new work, just now causing great sensation, as to whose conception Signora Biancona and Dr. Welding had a difference of opinion. The former was full of enthusiasm for it, while the latter accorded it very little value. The Signora defended her opinion with Southern vivacity and was supported therein by all the gentlemen, who took her side from the commencement, while the Doctor persisted coolly in his own. The battle grew more determined, until at last the Signora became somewhat annoyed, and turned away from her opponent.

"I regret very much that our Conductor was prevented from accepting to-day's invitation. He plays this composition perfectly, and I fear it requires a performance to enable the company to judge which of us two is right."

The guests were of the same opinion, and regretted the Conductor exceedingly, none offered to replace him. The playing of this music did not appear to keep pace with the very remarkable enthusiasm for it, until Almbach came forward suddenly and said, "I am at your disposal, Signora."

She turned quickly towards him and said with evident appreciation, "You are musical, Signor?"

"If you and the rest of the company will bear with the attempt of an 'amateur,'" he made a gesture of enquiry to the master of the house, and as the latter agreed eagerly, he went to the piano.

The composition under discussion, a modern show-piece in the fullest sense of the word, owed its general popularity less to its real worth--of which it had indeed very little--than to its great difficulty of execution. Even the simple possibility of playing it at all, required a masterly power over the instrument. People were accustomed only to hear it performed by high-standing professionals, and therefore looked half-astonished, half-contemptuously at the young man who volunteered his services with so little concern. He had certainly apologised for being an amateur, but still it was presumptuous to attempt this in Consul Erlau's house, where the playing of so many celebrities had been heard and admired.

The guests were so much the more astonished that Almbach showed himself perfectly equal to all these difficulties, as, without even a note of music before him, he overcame them by playing at once, with an ease and certainty which would have done honour to a regular artist. At the same time he understood to put such fire into his performance as carried away even the older and more expectant hearers. The piece of music under his hands seemed to acquire quite a different form; he gave it a meaning, which no one, perhaps not even the composer himself, had attached to it, and especially the finale, rendered in a somewhat stormy tempo, brought him most plenteous applause from all sides.

"Bravo, bravissimo, Herr Almbach!" cried the Consul, who was the first to come up, and who shook him heartily by the hand, "we must really be grateful to the Signora and Doctor, whose musical dispute assisted us to the discovery of such a talent. You modestly announce an attempt, and give us a performance of which the most finished artist need not be ashamed. You have helped our Signora to a brilliant victory; she is right--unconditionally right, and the Doctor this time remains, with his attack, decidedly in the minority."

The singer had also approached the piano.

"I, too, am grateful to you for having responded to my wish in so knightly a manner," she said, smiling; now lowering her voice, "but take care; I fear my critical enemy will still fight with you as to the mode in which you proved my opinion. Was the playing, above all the finale, quite correct?"

A treacherous gleam shot across the young man's countenance, but he also smiled.

"It accorded with your views, and received your applause, Signora--that is enough for me."

"We will speak of it later," whispered the Signora quickly, as now the lady of the house drew near to pay some civilities to her young guest, and the greater part of the company followed her example. A stream of phrases and compliments swept over Almbach, his playing was charming; his execution--where had he studied music? The less he had been noticed before--the less he was known to them, the more he had astonished all by suddenly coming forward, added to the young man's modesty, which hardly permitted him to reply to all the questions addressed to him; every one present felt himself involuntarily to be a sort of Mecænas, and was prepared to give the young genius his complete protection. Was it really modesty that closed Almbach's lips? Sometimes a species of mockery flashed in his eyes, as again and again this exquisite performance was extolled; and it was declared that this composition had never been heard in perfection before. He seized the first opportunity to escape from the attention paid him, and in this attempt was taken possession of by Dr. Welding.

"Is it possible to reach you at last? You are regularly besieged with compliments. Just one word, Herr Almbach; shall we go in here?"

He pointed to an adjoining room, into which both had scarcely entered, before the Doctor continued in a somewhat sharp tone--

"Signora Biancona was right: that is, according to your performance. My attack was directed against the composition as it exists in the original. May I ask where you found this very peculiar arrangement of it? Until this moment it was quite unknown to me."

"How do you mean, Herr Doctor?" asked the young man, coolly. "I only know the piece of music in that form."

Welding looked him up and down, an expression of annoyance struggled with one of undisguised interest in his face, as he replied--

"You appear to gauge the musical knowledge of your audience quite correctly, if you venture to offer them such things. They hear the air, and are contented; but sometimes there are exceptions. For instance, it would interest me very much to know from whom certain variations emanate, which utterly change the character of the whole; and as regards the finale, entirely; was this daring improvisation, perhaps, the attempt of an amateur also?"

Almbach raised his head somewhat defiantly, "And if it were, what should you say to it?"

"That it was a great mistake of your people to make you a merchant."

"Herr Doctor, we are in a merchant's house."

"Certainly," answered Welding, calmly, "and I am the last to depreciate that class, especially when, like our host, it begins with earnest, ceaseless work, and ends in reposing on millions; but it does not suit all. Above everything, it requires a clear, cool head, and yours does not appear to me to be quite made to devote itself to the grasping debit and credit. Excuse me, Herr Almbach! that is only my candid opinion; besides, I do not blame you at all for your daring. What would one not do to make a beautiful woman's obstinacy appear right! In this case, the manœ uvre was even most agreeable, any other person with the best will could not have carried it out; I congratulate you upon it."

He made a half-ironical bow, and left the room; it adjoined the drawing-room, but the half-closed portières divided it from the former; quite lonely and dimly-lighted, it offered a momentary solitude to whomsoever desired it. The young man had thrown himself upon a seat, and gazed dreamily before him. Of what he was thinking, perhaps he did not dare to confess to himself, and yet it was betrayed by his starting up at the sound of a voice, which said in a tone of slight astonishment--

"Ah, Signor Almbach, you here!"

It was Signora Biancona; whether, on entering, she had really not perceived who was already there, could not be decided, as she continued with perfect ease--

"I was seeking relief for a moment from the heat and whirl of the drawing-room. You, too, have soon withdrawn from the company after your triumph."

Almbach had risen, quickly. "If it is a question of triumph, there is certainly no doubt who gained it to-day. My improvised performance cannot be compared, in ever so slight a degree, with that which you offered to the public."

The Signora smiled. "I only produced sounds, like you, but I confess, candidly, it has surprised me, never, until to-night, and here, to meet an artist who surely long since--"

"Excuse me, Signora," interrupted the young man, coldly, "I have already declared in the drawing-room that I only lay claim to being a dilettante. I belong to the commercial world."

The same look of astonishment which he had seen on Welding's countenance in the theatre, was turned towards Almbach's face for the second time.

"Impossible! you are joking."

"Why impossible, Signora? Because I could play a difficult bravura piece with facility?"

"Because you could play it so, and because--" she looked at him fixedly for a moment, and then added, with great decision--"because your face bears the stamp one always imagines genius must carry on its brow."

"You see how deceptive appearances sometimes are."

Signora Biancona did not seem to agree with this; she sat down on the couch, her pale-coloured dress lay airily and lightly, as a cloud, on the dark velvet.

"I admire you," she began again, "that you are able, with such artistic qualities, to devote yourself to an every-day calling. It would be impossible for me; I have grown up in a world of sounds and tones, and cannot understand how there is room in it for any other duties."

This time there lay an undisguised bitterness in the young man's voice as he answered----"Also, your home is Italy; mine, a North-German business town! In our every-day life, poetry is a rare, fleeting guest, to whom a place is often refused. Work, striving after gain, stands ever in the foreground."

"With you, also, Signor?"

"It should, at least, stand there; that it is not always the case, my musical attempt will have shown you."

The singer shook her head doubtfully. "Your attempt! I should like to become acquainted with your finished work. But surely it cannot be your intention to withdraw this talent entirely from the public, and only exercise it in your home circle?"

"In my home circle!" repeated Almbach, with singular emphasis, "I do not touch a note there--least of all in my wife's presence."

"You are married already?" asked the Italian quickly, as a momentary pallor spread over her face.

"Yes, Signora."

This "yes," sounded dull and cold, and the half-mocking expression which played for a moment on the singer's lips, as she looked at the man of barely four-and-twenty years, disappeared at this tone.

"People marry very young in Germany, it appears," she remarked, quietly.

"Sometimes."

The young Italian seemed to find the pause which followed these words somewhat painful; she changed rapidly to another topic--

"I fear you have already been subjected to the examination of which I warned you. All the same, the company was charmed with your performance."

"Perhaps!" said the young man, half-contemptuously, "and yet it certainly was not intended for the company."

"Not! and for whom, then?" asked Signora Biancona, directing her glance firmly towards him. And he looked at her; there seemed to be something alike in both pairs of eyes which now met one another--both large, dark, and mysterious. In Almbach's glance, too, shone the same light as in the actress'; here also burned an ardent, passionate soul; also here, in the depths, slumbered the demonlike spark which is so often the heritage of genial natures, and becomes their curse when no protecting hand restrains it, and when it is fanned into flame, then no more brings light, but only destruction.

He came a step nearer and lowered his voice; its great excitement, however, still betrayed itself.

"Only for her, who, for me and for us all, a few hours since, embodied the highest beauty and the highest poetry, borne by the notes of an undying master-work. You have been worshipped a thousand-fold to-day, Signora. All that enthusiasm could offer was laid at your feet. The stranger, the unknown, also wished to tell you how much he admired you, and he did it in the language which alone is worthy of you. It is not quite strange to me either."

In his admiration there lay something that raised it above all flattery, the tone of real true enthusiasm, and Signora Biancona was actress enough to recognise this tone, woman enough to suspect what was hidden beneath it; she smiled with enchanting grace.

"I have seen, indeed, how very fluent you are in this language. Shall I not often hear it from you?"

"Hardly," said the young man, gloomily. "You return, as I hear, to Italy shortly, I--remain here in the North. Who knows if we shall ever meet again."

"Our manager intends to remain here until May," interrupted the Signora, quickly. "So our meeting to-day will surely not be our last? Certainly not--I count positively on seeing you again."

"Signora!" This passionate outbreak of Almbach's lasted only for a second. Suddenly a recollection or warning seemed to shoot through him; he drew back and bowed low and distantly.

"I fear it must be the last--farewell, Signora."

He was gone before it was possible for the singer to utter one word regarding this strange adieu, and he seemed to be in earnest about it, as not once during the whole evening did he approach the dangerous "circle of the sun."

CHAPTER II.

"That is too bad. This mania really begins to surpass all limits. I must forbid Reinhold all cultivation of music if he continues to pursue it in so senseless a manner."

With these words, the merchant Almbach opened a family council, which took place in the parlour, in his wife's and daughter's presence, and at which, fortunately, the special object of the same did not assist.

Herr Almbach, a man about fifty, whose quiet, measured, almost pedantic manner, generally served as a pattern for all the office people, appeared to have quite lost his equilibrium to-day, by the above-named mania, as he continued, in great excitement--

"The bookkeeper came home this morning about four o'clock from the jubilee, which I had left directly after midnight. From the bridge he sees the garden house lighted up, and hears Reinhold raving over the notes, and lost to all sense of sight and hearing. Of course he could not accompany me to the feast! he declared himself to be ill; but his 'unbearable headache' did not hinder him from maltreating the piano in the icy-cold garden-room until morning's dawn. I shall be hearing again from my partners that my son-in-law has been doing his utmost in uselessness as well as in carelessness. It is hardly credible! The youngest clerk understands the books better, and has more interest in the business, than the partner and future head of the house of 'Almbach & Co.' My whole life long have I worked and toiled to make my firm secure and respected, and now I have the prospect of leaving it, at last, in such hands."

"I always told you that you should have forbidden his associating with the Music-Director, Wilkins," interrupted Frau Almbach, "he is to blame for it all; no one could get on with that misanthropical, musical fool. Everyone hated and avoided him, but with Reinhold that was all the more reason to form the most intimate friendship with him. Day after day he was there, and there alone was laid the foundation of all this musical nonsense, which his master seems to have bequeathed to him at his death. It is hardly bearable since he had the old man's legacy--the piano--in the house. Ella, what do you say, then, to this behaviour of your husband?"

The young wife, to whom the last words were addressed, had so far not spoken a syllable. She sat in the window, her head bent over her sewing, and only looked up as this direct question was addressed to her.

"I, dear mother?"

"Yes, you, my child, as the affair affects you most. Or do you really not feel the irresponsible manner in which Reinhold neglects you and your child?"

"He is so fond of music," said Ella, softly.

"Do you excuse him also?" said her mother, excitedly. "That is just the misfortune, he cares for it more than for wife or child; he never asks for either of you if he can only sit at his piano and improvise. Have you no idea of what a wife can and must demand from her husband, and that, above all, it is her duty to bring him to reason? But to be sure, nothing is ever to be expected of you."

The young wife certainly did not look as if much were to be expected of her. She had little that was attractive in her appearance, and the one thing about her that could perhaps be called pretty, the delicate, still girlishly slender figure, was entirely hidden under a most unbecoming house dress, which in its boundless plainness was more suggestive of a servant than of the daughter of the house, and was made so as to disguise any possible advantages which there might be. Only a narrow strip of the fair hair, which lay smoothly parted on her brow, was visible, the rest disappeared entirely under a cap more suited to her mother's years, and offering a peculiar contrast to the face of the barely twenty-years-old wife. This pale face with its downcast eyes, was not adapted to arouse any interest; it had no expression, there lay in it something stolid, vacant, that nearly approached to stupidity, and at this moment, when she let her sewing drop and looked at her mother, it betrayed such helpless nervousness and senselessness, that Almbach felt obliged to come to his daughter's assistance.

"Leave Ella alone!" said he in that half-angry, half-compassionate tone with which one rejects the interference of a child, "you know nothing is to be done with her, and what could she effect here?"

He shrugged his shoulders and continued bitterly; "That is the reward for the sacrifice of adopting my brother's orphan children! Hugo throws all gratitude, all reason and education in my face, and runs away secretly; and Reinhold, who has grown up in my house, under my eyes, causes me the greatest anxiety, with his good-for-nothing hankering after all fancies. But with him, at all events, I have kept the reins in my hand, and I shall draw them so tightly now, that he shall lose all inclination to chafe against them any more."

"Yes, Hugo's ingratitude was really outrageous!" Frau Almbach joined in. "To fly from our house at night, in a fog, and go to sea, 'to try his luck alone in the world,' as he said in the impudent letter of farewell which he left behind him! Two years since there actually came a letter to Reinhold from the Captain; and the former hinted only lately, quite openly, about his probable return. I fear he knows something positive about it."

"Hugo shall not cross my threshold," declared the merchant, with a solemn motion of his hand. "I know nothing of this interchange of letters with Reinhold, and will know nothing. Let them correspond behind my back, but if the unadvised youth should have the audacity to appear before me, he will learn what the anger of an offended uncle and guardian is."

While the parents prepared to discuss this apparently often-treated theme, with the wonted details and ire, Ella had left the room unnoticed and now descended the staircase leading to the office, situated on the ground floor. The young wife knew that now, at midday, all the people would be absent, and this probably lent her courage to enter.

It was a large gloomy room; whose bare walls and barred windows caused it somewhat to resemble a prison. No trouble had been taken to impart any comfort or even a pleasant appearance to the office. And what for? What belonged to work was there; the rest was luxury, and luxury was a thing that the house of Almbach and Co., notwithstanding its notoriously not inconsiderable wealth, did not allow itself.

At present no one was to be found in the room, excepting the young man, who sat at a desk with a big ledger open before him. He looked pale and as if he had been up late; his eyes, which should have been busy with figures, were fixed on the narrow strip of the sun's rays which fell slantingly across the room. In his gaze was something of the longing and bitterness of a prisoner, to whom the sunshine, penetrating into his cell, brings news of life and freedom from without. He hardly turned his head at the opening of the door, and asked indifferently--

"What is it? What do you want, Ella?"

Every other wife at the second question would have gone to her husband and put her arm round his shoulder. Ella remained standing close to the doorway. It sounded far too icily cold, this "What do you want?" she evidently was not welcome.

"I wished to ask how your headache is?" she began, shyly.

"My headache?" Reinhold recollected himself suddenly. "Ah, yes, I think it has gone."

The young wife closed the door and came a step or two nearer.

"My parents are very furious again, that you were not at the feast yesterday, and were playing, instead, the whole night long," she told him hesitatingly.

Reinhold knitted his brows. "Who told them? you perhaps?"

"I?" her voice sounded half like a reproach. "The bookkeeper saw the garden house lighted up, and heard you playing as he returned this morning."

An expression of contemptuous scorn played around the young man's lips, "Ah! I certainly had not thought of that. I did not believe that those gentlemen, after their jubilee, would have time or inclination left for observations. To be sure for spying they are always ready enough."

"My father thinks--" began Ella, again.

"What does he think?" shouted Reinhold. "Is it not enough for him that from morning to evening I am bound to this office; does he even grudge me the refreshment I seek at night in music? I thought that I and my piano had been banished far enough; that the garden house lay so distant and so isolated, that I could run no risk of disturbing the sleep of the righteous in the house. Fortunately no one can hear a sound."

"Not so," said the young wife, softly, "I hear every note when all is still around, and I alone lie awake."

Reinhold turned round and looked at his wife. She stood with downcast eyes and thoroughly expressionless face before him. His glance swept slowly down her figure as though he were unconsciously drawing some comparison, and the bitterness in his features became more plainly displayed.

"I am sorry for it," he replied coldly, "but I cannot help your windows looking into the garden. Close your shutters in future, then it is to be hoped that my musical extravagances will not disturb your sleep any more."

He turned over the pages of his book, and appeared to lose himself again in his calculations. Ella waited about a minute longer, but as she saw that not the least notice was taken of her presence, she went away as noiselessly as she came.

She had hardly left before Reinhold flung the ledger from him with a passionate movement. His glance, which fell upon the contemptuously-treated object, and was cast around the office, showed the most bitter hatred; then he laid his head on both arms and closed his eyes, as if he wished to see and hear no more of the whole surroundings.

"God greet you, Reinhold!" said a strange voice suddenly, quite close to him.

He started up, and looked bewildered and inquiringly at the stranger in sailor's clothes, who had entered unnoticed and now stood before him. Suddenly, however, a recollection seemed to shoot through him, as with a cry of joy, he threw himself on the new-comer's breast.

"Is it possible, Hugo!--you here already?"

Two powerful arms embraced him firmly, and a pair of warm lips were pressed again and again upon his.

"Do you really know me still? I should have picked you out from amongst hundreds. Certainly you do look rather different from the little Reinhold I left behind here. Well, with me I suppose it is not much better."

The first words still sounded full of deep emotion; but the latter already bore a somewhat merrier tone. Reinhold's arm still lay fondly round his brother's neck.

"And you come so suddenly, so completely unannounced? I only expected you in a few weeks' time."

"We have had an unusually quick voyage," said the young captain, cheerfully, "and once I was in the harbour, I could not stay a minute longer on board, I must come to you. Thank God, I found you alone! I was afraid I should have to pass the purgatorial fire of domestic anger and to fight my way through the united relatives in order to reach you."

Reinhold's face, still beaming with the pleasure of meeting again, became overcast at this recollection, and his arm fell slowly down.

"No one has seen you surely?" he asked, "you know how my uncle feels towards you, since--"

"Since I withdrew myself from his all-wise rule, which wished to screw me absolutely to the office table, and ran away?" interrupted Hugo. "Yes, I know; and I should have liked to look on at the row that broke loose in the house when they discovered I had fled. But the story is nearly ten years old. The 'good-for-nothing' is not dead and ruined, as the family have, no doubt, prophecied hundreds of times, and wished oftener; he returns as a most respected captain of a most splendid ship, with all possible recommendations to your principal houses of business. Should these mercantile and maritime advantages not at last soften the heart of the angry house of Almbach and Co.?"

Reinhold suppressed a sigh, "Do not joke, Hugo! you do not know my uncle--do not know the life in his house."

"No, I went away at the night time," asserted the Captain, "and that was most sensible; you should do the same."

"What are you thinking about? My wife--my child?"

"Ah yes!" said Hugo, somewhat confused. "I always forget you are married. Poor boy! they chained you fast by times. Such a betrothal altar is the safest bolt to thrust before all possible longing for freedom. There, do not fly out at once! I am quite willing to believe they did not regularly force you to say 'yes.' But how you came to do it, my uncle will probably have to answer for; and the melancholy attitude in which I found you, does not say much for the happiness of a young husband. Let me look into your eyes, that I may see how it really is."

He seized him unceremoniously by his arm, and drew him towards the window. Here in broad daylight, one could see, for the first time, how very unlike the brothers were, notwithstanding an undeniable resemblance in their features. The Captain, the elder of the two, was strongly, and yet gracefully built, his handsome, open countenance was browned by sun and air; his hair curled lightly, and his brown eyes sparkled with love of life and courage; his carriage was easy and firm, like that of a man accustomed to move in the most varied surroundings and circumstances, and his whole bearing had a species of self-confidence which broke forth at every opportunity, with, at the same time, such a fresh, open kindliness, that it was difficult to resist him.

Reinhold, his junior by a few years, made a totally different impression. He was slighter, paler than his brother; his hair and eyes were darker, and the latter had a serious, even gloomy expression. But there lay on this brow, and in those eyes, something which attracted all the more, as they did not disclose all which lay behind them. Hugo was, perhaps, the handsomer of the two, and yet a comparison was sure to be drawn unconditionally in favour of the younger brother, who possessed, in the highest degree, that rare and dangerous charm of being interesting, to which, often the most perfect beauty must give way.

The young man made a hasty attempt to withdraw from the threatened inspection. "You cannot remain here," he said, decidedly, "uncle may enter at any moment, and then there would be a terrible scene. I will take you to the garden house for the present, which I have had fitted up for my sole use. You will hardly dare to appear before the family, and your arrival must be known. I will tell them."

"And bear all the storm alone?" interrupted the Captain. "I beg your pardon, but that is my affair! I am going up at once to my uncle and aunt, and shall introduce myself as their obedient nephew!"

"But Hugo! are you out of your senses? You have no idea of the state of affairs here."

"Exactly! The strongest fortresses are taken by surprise, and I have long looked forward to one day entering like a bomb amongst the stormy relations, and to seeing what sort of a grimace they would make. But one thing more. Reinhold, you must give me your promise to remain quietly below until I return. You shall not be placed in the painful position of witnessing how the weight of the family wrath is poured upon my erring head. You might wish to catch some of it out of brotherly self-sacrifice, and that would disturb all my plans of campaign. Jonas, come in!"

He opened the door and admitted a man, who, until now, had waited outside in the passage. "That is my brother. Look well at him! You have to report yourself to him, and pay him your respects. Once more, Reinhold, promise me not to enter the family parlour for the next half-hour. I shall bring all to order up there by myself, if I have even to take the whole barrack by storm."

He was out of the door before his brother could make any remonstrance. Still half-bewildered by the rapid changes of the last ten minutes, he looked at the broad, square figure of the new arrival, who set a good-sized portmanteau down on the floor, and planted himself close beside it.

"Seaman Wilhelm Jonas, of the 'Ellida,' now in the service of Herr Captain Almbach!" reported he, systematically, and attempted a movement at the same time, probably intended to be a bow, but which did not bear the least similarity to the desired courtesy.

"All right," said Reinhold, abruptly, "you can leave the luggage here at present! I must first hear how long my brother proposes remaining."

"We are to stay here a few days with his uncle," assured Jonas, very quietly.

"Oh! is that decided already?"

"Quite positively."

"I do not understand Hugo," murmured Reinhold. "He appears to have no idea of what is before him, and yet my letters must have prepared him for it. I cannot possibly let him bear the storm alone."

He made a movement towards the door, but this was quite blocked up by the sailor's broad figure, who, even at the young man's displeased glance of enquiry, did not move from his position.

"The Captain said that he would bring all to order up yonder by himself," he explained laconically, "so he will do it. He succeeds in everything."

"Really?" asked Reinhold, somewhat struck by the insuperable confidence of the words, "You seem to know my brother well."

"Very well."

Hesitating whether he should accede to Hugo's wish, Reinhold went to the window which looked into the court, and became aware of three or four faces, expressive of boundless curiosity, belonging to the servants, who were trying to obtain a peep into the office. The young man allowed a sound of suppressed annoyance to escape him, and turned again to the sailor.

"My brother's arrival seems to be known in the house already, said he hastily. Strangers are not such a rarity in the office, and the curiosity is evidently directed to you."

"It does not matter," muttered Jonas, "even if the whole nest becomes rebellious and stares at us. That sort of thing is nothing new. The savages in the South Sea Islands do just the same when our 'Ellida' lies-to."

The question may remain undecided, as to whether the comparison just drawn was exactly flattering to the inhabitants of the house. Fortunately no one but Reinhold heard it, and he considered it necessary to remove the object of this curiosity. He desired him to enter the adjoining room and wait there; he himself remained behind and listened uneasily if quarrelling voices were to be heard, but to be sure the family parlour lay in the upper story and at the other side of the house. The young man debated with himself as to whether he should remain true to the half-promise which he had made to Hugo, and leave him to manage alone, or if he should not, at least, attempt to cover the unavoidable retreat, as, that such lay before Hugo, he believed to be certain. He had too often heard the condemning verdict accorded to his brother by the family, not to dread a scene, in which even the former would be unable to hold his own, but he also knew his own position towards his uncle too well, not to say to himself that his interference would merely make matters worse.

More than half-an-hour had passed in this painful anxiety, when at last steps were heard and the Captain entered.

"Here I am, the affair is settled."

"What is settled?" asked Reinhold, hastily.

"Well, the pardon of course. As much-beloved nephew, I have this moment lain alternately in the arms of my uncle and aunt. Come upstairs with me, Reinhold! you are missing in the reconciliation tableau, but you must be prepared for endless emotion; they are all crying together."

His brother looked at him doubtfully. "I do not know, Hugo, if this be meant for fun, or--"

The young Captain laughed mischievously. "You seem to have little confidence in my diplomatic talents. But all the same, do not think that the affair was easily settled. I was certainly prepared for a storm. But here raged a regular tornado--bah, we sailors are accustomed to such things--and when at last I could obtain speech, which certainly was not for some time, the victory was already decided. I represented the return of the lost son with a masterly hand; I called heaven and earth as witnesses of my reformation. I ventured upon falling at their feet--that took, at least with my aunt--I now made sure of the hesitating female flank, in order to storm the centre in conjunction with it, and the victory was brilliant. Forgiveness in due form--general emotion and embraces--group of reconciliation--my Heaven, do not look so incredulous. I assure you I am speaking in all seriousness."

Reinhold shook his head, yet unconsciously he drew a breath of relief. "Comprehend it, who can! I should have thought it impossible! Have you"--the question sounded peculiarly uncertain--"have you seen my wife?"

"To be sure," said Hugo, slyly. "That is to say, I have certainly not seen much of her, and heard even less, as she remained quite passive during the scene, and did not even cry like the rest. The same little cousin Eleonore still, who always sat so quietly and shyly in her corner, out of which even our wildest boyish teasings did not drive her--and she has become your wife! But now, above all, I must admire the representative of the house of Almbach! Where is he?"

Reinhold looked up, and for a moment a bright gleam drove all the gloominess away from his face. "My boy? I will show him to you. Come, we will go up to him."

"Thank God, at last a sign of happiness in your face," said the Captain, with a seriousness of which one would hardly have deemed his merry nature capable, and he added in a lowered voice, "I have sought for it in vain so far."

The firm of Almbach and Co. belonged to that class whose names on the Exchange, as well as in the commercial world generally, were of some position, without being of conspicuous importance. The relations between its head and Consul Erlau were not only of a business nature; they dated from earlier times, when both, equally young and meanless, were apprenticed in the same office, the one to raise himself until he became a rich merchant, whose ships sailed on every ocean and whose connections extended to every quarter of the globe--the other to found a modest business, which never reached beyond certain bounds. Almbach avoided all more daring speculations, all greater undertakings, which he was by no means the man to superintend or guide; he preferred a moderate, but steady gain, which also fell to his share to the fullest extent. His social position was certainly as different from that of Consul Erlau as was his old-fashioned gloomy house in Canal Street, with its high gables and barred office windows, from the princely furnished palace at the Harbour. The friendship between the former youthful companions had gradually diminished, but it was certainly Almbach who was principally to blame for it. He could not be reconciled to the Consul after the latter had become a millionaire, living in the style suited to that position. Perhaps he could not forgive him for occupying the first place, while he himself only stood in the third or fourth rank, and well as he knew how to utilise the advantages which the intimate acquaintance with the great firm of Erlau opened to him, yet he held, all the more, to his strictly middle-class, and somewhat old-frankish household, and kept aloof from all communication with that of the Consul. The latter's invitations had ceased when he saw that they were never accepted; for years the mutual meetings had been restricted to those occasional ones on Exchange or some chance place, and lately Almbach had even, when any business matters required a personal interview, let his son-in-law represent him. It was decidedly disagreeable to him, that on this occasion the young man had received the invitation to the opera and the succeeding evening party, and impossible as it was to refuse this civility, the merchant did not attempt to disguise from his family his dissatisfaction at Reinhold's introduction into the "nabob's life," the designation with which he usually honoured his old friend's household.

Notwithstanding all this, Almbach was a well-to-do, even, as was maintained by many, a very rich man, and on this account the centre and support of numerous relations not blessed with over-much fortune. In this manner the care of his two orphaned nephews, whom their father, a ship's captain, had left quite without resources, fell to his charge. Almbach had only one child, to whose existence he had never attached very much importance, as she was a girl. The Consul and his wife were the little one's god-parents, and it might always be considered as an act of self-conquest, that Almbach gave his daughter Frau Erlau's name, as he particularly hated the aristocratic, romantic-sounding "Eleonore" and soon changed it for the much simpler "Ella." This designation was also more suitable, as Ella Almbach was considered by every one to be, not only a simple, but even a very contracted-minded being, whose horizon never was extended beyond the trifling domestic events of housekeeping. The child had formerly been very sickly, and this may have had a crippling effect upon the development of her mental faculties. They were indeed of a very inferior order, and the very prejudiced, strictly domestic education in her father's house, excluding every other circle of ideas and thought, did not appear adapted to give them a higher direction. Thus, then, the girl had grown up quiet and shy, always overlooked, everywhere set aside, and without the least value, even amongst her nearest relations. They were wont to consider her quite incapable of self-dependence, even half-irresponsible, and her eventual marriage did not change things at all.

Neither of the young people raised any objection to the long-cherished, and to them long-known, plan of a union. A girl of seventeen and a man of twenty-two have certainly not much self-decision, least of all when they have grown up under such repressed circumstances. Besides, in this case, there was also the habit of always living together, which had created a sort of liking, although in Reinhold it was really only pitying tolerance, and in Ella secret fear of her mentally superior cousin. They gave their hands obediently at the betrothal, which was followed, after a year's reprieve, by the wedding. Almbach's sceptre swayed over both as much after as before it, he allowed his new son-in-law, who, as far as the name went, was literally his partner, as little independence in the business as his wife did the young mistress in the household.

CHAPTER III.

It was Sunday morning. The office was closed, and Reinhold at last had a free morning before him, which certainly was seldom his good fortune. He was in the garden house, to the entire and special possession of which he had at last attained, to be sure only after many struggles and by repeated reference to his musical studies, which were considered highly disturbing in the house. It was here alone that the young man was in any degree safe from the constant control of his parents-in-law, which extended even into the young couple's dwelling, and he seized every free moment to take refuge in his asylum.

The so-called "garden" was of the only description possible in an old, narrowly-built, densely populated town. On all sides high walls and gables enclosed the small piece of ground, to which air and sunshine were sparingly given, and where a few trees and shrubs enjoyed but a miserable existence. The garden's boundary was one of those small canals, which traversed the town in all directions, and whose quick, dark stream formed a very melancholy background; beyond this, again, walls and gables were to be seen; the same prison-like appearance, which clung to Almbach's whole house seemed to reign over the only free space belonging to it.

The garden house itself was not much more cheerful--the single large room was furnished with more than simplicity. Evidently the few old-fashioned pieces of furniture had been set aside from some other place as superfluous, and been sought out in order to fit up the room with what was absolutely necessary. Only in the window, round which climbed some stunted vines, stood a large, handsome piano, the legacy of the late Music Director, Wilkens, to his pupil, and its magnificent appearance contrasted as singularly and strangely with the room as did the figure of the young man, with his ideal brow and large flashing eyes, behind the barred office windows of the dwelling-house.

Reinhold was sitting writing at the table, but to-day his face did not wear the tired, listless expression, which rested upon it whenever he had the figures of the account books before him; his cheeks were darkly, almost feverishly red, and as he wrote a name rapidly on the envelope, lying on the table, his hands trembled as if with suppressed excitement. Steps were heard outside, and the glass door was opened; with a quick gesture of annoyance the young man pushed the envelope under the sheets of music lying on the table, and turned round.

It was Jonas, servant of the Captain, who for a few days only had accepted the hospitality offered by his relations, and then had migrated to a dwelling of his own. The sailor saluted and entered in his peculiarly rough and somewhat uncouth manner, and then laid some books on the table.

"The Herr Captain's compliments, and he sends the promised books from his travelling library."

"Is my brother not coming himself?" asked Reinhold astonished. "He promised surely."

"The Captain has been here some time," replied Jonas, "but they have got hold of him in the house; your uncle wished to have a conference with him on family affairs; your aunt requires his help to make some alteration in the guest room, and the bookkeeper wants to catch him for his society. All are fighting for him; he cannot tear himself away."

"Hugo appears to have conquered the whole house in the course of a single week," remarked Reinhold ironically.

"We do that everywhere," said Jonas, full of self-consciousness, and appeared inclined to add more about those conquests, when he was interrupted by his master's entrance, who greeted his brother in the most cheerful humour.

"Good morning, Reinhold! Now Jonas, what are you staying here for? You are wanted in the house. I promised my aunt that you should help at the dinner to-day. Go at once to the kitchen!"

"Amongst the women!"

"Heaven knows," said Hugo, turning laughingly to his brother, "where this man has learned his hatred for women. Certainly not from me; I admire the lovely sex uncommonly."

"Yes, unfortunately, quite uncommonly," muttered Jonas, but he turned away obediently and marched out of the room, while the Captain came quite close to Reinhold.

"To-day there is a large family dinner!" he began, imitating his Uncle Almbach's pedantic, solemn voice so well as almost to deceive any one. "In my honour of course! I hope you will pay proper respect to this important ceremony, and that you will not again behave in such a manner, that I can at the utmost use you as a butt for my too developed amiability."

Reinhold knitted his brows slightly--

"I beg you, Hugo, do be sensible for once! How long do you intend to continue this comedy, and amuse yourself at the expense of the whole house? Take care, lest they find out what your amiability consists of, and that you are really only ridiculing them all."

"That would indeed be bad," said Hugo, quietly, "but they will not find me out, depend upon that."

"Then do me the kindness, at least, of ceasing your horrid Indian tales! You really go too far with them. Uncle was debating with the bookkeeper yesterday about the battle with the monster serpent, which you served up for them lately, and which, even to him, appeared unheard of. I became extremely confused in listening to them."

"It put you to confusion?" mocked the Captain. "If I had been there, I should immediately have given them the benefit of an elephant hunt, a tiger story, and a few attacks of savages, with such appalling effects, that the affair of the giant snake would have appeared highly probable to them. Be easy! I know my hearers; the whole house oppresses me almost, with its acts of sympathy."

"Excepting Ella," suggested Reinhold, "it is certainly remarkable that her shyness towards you is quite invincible."

"Yes, it is very remarkable," said Hugo with an offended air. "I cannot allow any one in the house to exist who is not entirely persuaded of my perfections, and have already set myself the task of presenting myself to my sister-in-law in all my utterly irresistible charms. I do not doubt at all that she will thereupon immediately join the majority--you are not jealous, I hope."

"Jealous?--I? and on Ella's account?" The young man shrugged his shoulders half-pityingly, half-contemptuously.

"What are you thinking of?"

"Well, there is no danger! I have sought an interview with her already, but she was entirely occupied with the young one. Tell me, Reinhold, where does the child get those wonderful, blue, fairy-tale-like eyes from? Yours are not so, besides there is not the least resemblance, and, excepting his, I do not know any in the family."

"I believe Ella's eyes are blue," interrupted his brother indifferently.

"You believe only? Have you never convinced yourself then? Certainly it may be somewhat difficult; she never raises them, and, under that monstrous cap, nothing can be seen of her face. Reinhold, for Heaven's sake, how can you allow your wife such an antediluvian costume? I assure you, for me that cap would be grounds sufficient for a divorce."

Reinhold had seated himself at the piano, and let his hands glide mechanically over the notes, while he answered with perfect indifference--

"I never trouble myself about Ella's toilet, and I believe it would be useless to try and enforce any alterations there. What does it matter to me?"

"What it matters to you how your wife looks?" repeated the Captain, as he seized some sheets of music on the table, and turned them over lightly, "a charming question from a young husband! You used to have a sense of beauty, too easily aroused, and I could almost fear--what is this then? 'Signora Beatrice Biancona on it.' Have you Italian correspondents in the town?"

Reinhold sprang up, confusion and annoyance struggled in his face, as he saw the letter, which he had pushed under the music, in his brother's hands, who repeated the address unconcernedly.

"Beatrice Biancona? That is the prima donna of the Italian Opera, who has made such a wonderful sensation here? Do you know the lady?"

"Slightly," said Reinhold, taking the letter quickly from his hands. "I was introduced to her lately at Consul Erlau's."

"And you correspond with her already?"

"Certainly not! The letter does not contain one single line."

Hugo laughed aloud, "An envelope fully addressed, a very voluminous sheet of paper inside it, with not a single line! Dear Reinhold, that is more wonderful than my story of the giant snake. Do you expect me really to believe it? There, do not look so savage, I do not intend to force myself into your secrets."

Instead of answering, the young man drew the paper out of the unsealed envelope, and held it to his brother, who looked at it in astonishment.

"What does it mean? Only a song--notes and words--no word of explanation with it--just your name below. Have you composed it?"

Reinhold took the paper again, closed the letter and put it in his pocket.

"It is an attempt, nothing more. She is artiste enough to judge of it. She can accept or reject it."

"Then you compose also?" asked the Captain, whose face had become serious all at once. "I did not think that your passionate liking for music went so far as creating it yourself. Poor Reinhold, how can you bear this life, with all its narrow, confined ways, wishing to stifle every spark of poetry as being unnecessary or dangerous? I could not do it."

Reinhold had thrown himself upon the seat before the piano again.

"Do not ask me how I endure it," he replied, with suppressed feeling. "It is enough that I do it."

"I guessed long since that your letters were not open," continued Hugo; "that behind all the contentment with which you tried to deceive me, something quite different was concealed. The truth has become plain to me, during one week in this house, notwithstanding that you gave yourself all conceivable trouble to hide it from me."

The young man gazed gloomily before him. "Why should I worry you, when far away, with anxieties about me? You had enough to do to take care of yourself, and there was a time, too, when I was contented, or at least believed myself so, because my whole mental being lay, as it were, under a spell, when I allowed everything to pass over me in stupid indifference, and I offered my hand willingly for the chain. I have done it; well, yes! But I must carry it my whole life long!"

Hugo had gone towards him, and laid his hand upon his brother's shoulder.

"You mean your marriage with Ella? At the first news of it, I knew it must be my uncle's work."

A bitter smile played round the young man's lips as he answered scornfully--

"He was always a splendid master of calculation, and he has shown it again in this case. The poor relation, taken up out of kindness and charity, must consider it happiness that he is raised to be son and heir of the house, and the daughter must be married some time; so it was a case of securing, by means of her hand, a successor for the firm, who bore the same name. It was neither Ella's nor my fault that we were bound together. We were both young, without wills, without knowledge of life or of ourselves. She will always remain so--well for her. It has not been so fortunate for me."

One would hardly have credited those merry brown eyes with the power of looking so serious as at this moment, when he bent down to his brother.

"Reinhold," said he, in an undertone, "on the night when I fled to save myself from a caprice, which would have ruined my freedom and future, I had planned and foreseen everything, excepting one, the most difficult--the moment when I should stand by your bed to bid you farewell. You slept quietly, and did not dream of the separation; but I--when I saw your pale face on the pillow, and said to myself that for years, perhaps never again, should I see it, all longing for freedom could not resist it--I struggled hard with the temptation to awake and take you with me. Later, when I experienced the thorny path of the adventurous homeless boy, with all its dangers and privations, I often thanked God that I had withstood the temptation; I knew you were safe and sound in our relation's house, and now"--Hugo's strong voice trembled as with suppressed anger or pain--"now I wish I had carried you with me to want and privation, to storm and danger, but at any rate to freedom; it had been better."

"It had been better," repeated Reinhold, listlessly; then rising as if reckless, "Let us cease! What is the use of regrets, which cannot change what is past. Come! They expect us upstairs."

"I wish I had you on my 'Ellida,' and we could turn our backs on the whole crew, never to see them again," said the young sailor, with a sigh, as he prepared to follow his brother's bidding. "I never thought things could be so bad."

The brothers had hardly entered the house, when Hugo's indispensability began to show itself again. He was in request, at least on three sides, at once. Every one required his advice and help. The young Captain appeared to possess the enviable power of throwing himself directly from one mood into another, as, immediately after his serious conversation with his brother, he was sparkling with merriment and mischief, helped every one, paid compliments to each, and at the same time teased all in the most merciless manner. This time it was the bookkeeper who caught him, as Jonas expressed it, to explain the affairs of his society; and while the two gentlemen were discussing it, Reinhold entered the dining-room, where he found his wife busied with preparations for the before-named guests.

Ella was in her Sunday costume to-day, but that made little alteration in her appearance. Her dress of finer material was not more becoming; the cap, which inspired her brother-in-law with such horror, surrounded and disfigured her face as usual. The young wife devoted herself so assiduously and completely to her domestic duties, that she hardly seemed to notice her husband's entrance, who approached her with rather lowering mien.

"I must beg you, Ella," he began, "to have more regard for my wishes in future, and to meet my brother in such a manner as he can and would expect his sister-in-law to do. I should think that the behaviour of your parents, and every one in the house, might serve as an example for you; but you appear to find an especial pleasure in denying him every right of relationship, and in showing him a decided antipathy."

The young wife looked as timid and helpless at this anything but kindly expressed reproof, as she did when her mother desired her to interfere about her husband's musical "mania."

"Do not be angry, dear Reinhold," she replied, hesitatingly, "but I--I cannot do otherwise."

"You cannot?" asked Reinhold, sharply. "Of course, that is your never-failing answer when I ask anything of you, and I should have thought it was seldom enough that I do address a request to you. But this time I insist positively that you should change your demeanour towards Hugo. This shy avoidance and consequent silence whenever he speaks to you is too ridiculous. I beg seriously that you will take more care not to make me appear too much an object of pity to my brother."

Ella appeared about to answer, but the last unsparing words closed her lips. She bowed her head, and did not make any further attempt to defend herself. It was a movement of such gentle, patient resignation as would have disarmed any one; but Reinhold did not notice it, as at the same moment the old bookkeeper was heard taking leave in the next room.

"Then we may count upon the honour of your membership, Herr Captain? And as regards the election of a President, I have your word that you will support the opposition?"

"Quite at your service," said Hugo's voice, "and of course only with the opposition. I always join the opposition on principle whenever there is one; it is generally the only faction in which there is any fun. Excuse me, the honour is on my side."

The bookkeeper left, and the Captain appeared in the room. He seemed inclined to redeem the promise he had given to his brother, and at the same time to convince the young wife of his perfections, as he approached her with all the boldness and confidence of his nature, with which a certain knightly gallantry was mingled.

"Then I owe it to chance that at last I see my sister-in-law, and she is compelled to remain with me a few moments? Certainly she never would have accorded me this happiness of her own free will. I was complaining bitterly to Reinhold this morning about your repelling me, which I do not know that I have merited in any way."

He wished to take her hand, even to kiss it, but Ella drew back, with a, for her, quite unwonted decision.

"Herr Captain!"

"Herr Captain!" repeated Hugo, annoyed. "No, Ella, that is going too far. I certainly, as your brother, have a right to the 'thou' which you never refused to your cousin and childish companion, but as you, from the first day of my arrival, laid so much stress on the formal 'you,' I followed the hint you gave me. However, this 'Herr Captain' I will not stand. That is an insult against which I shall call Reinhold to my assistance. He shall tell me if I must really bear hearing myself being called 'Herr Captain' by those lips."

"Certainly not!" said Reinhold, as he turned to leave, "Ella will give up this manner of speaking to you, as well as her whole tone towards you. I have just been speaking distinctly to her about it."

He went away, and his glance ordered his wife to remain, as plainly as his voice demanded obedience. Neither escaped the Captain.

"For goodness sake, do not interfere with your husband's authority! Would you command friendliness towards me?" cried he after his brother, and turned again quickly to Ella, while he continued, gallantly, "that would be the surest way to prevent my ever finding favour in my beautiful sister-in-law's eyes. But that is not required between us, is it? You will permit me, at least, to lay the due tribute of respect at your feet, to describe to you the joyful surprise with which I received the news--"

Here Hugo stopped suddenly, and seemed to have lost his train of ideas. Ella had raised her eyes, and looked at him. It was a gleam of quiet, painful reproach, and the same reproach lay in her voice as she replied, "At least leave me in peace, Herr Captain. I thought you had amusement enough for to-day."

"I?" asked Hugo, taken aback. "What do you mean, Ella? You do not think--"

The young wife did not let him finish. "What have we done to you?" she continued, and although her voice trembled timidly at first, it gained firmness with every word. "What have we done to you that you always scoff at us, since the day of your return, when you acted a scene of repentance before my parents, until the present moment, when you make the whole house the target for your jokes? Reinhold certainly tolerates our being daily humiliated; he looks upon it as a matter of course. But I, Herr Captain--" here Ella's voice had attained perfect steadiness, "I do not consider it right that you should daily cast scorn and contempt over a house in which you, after all that has passed, have been received with the old love. If this house and family do appear so very meagre and ridiculous to you, no one invited you here. You should have remained in that world of which you are able to relate so much. My parents deserve more respect and mercy even for their weaknesses; and, although our house may be simple, it is still too good for the scoffs of an--adventurer."

She turned her back upon him, and left the room without waiting for a single word of reply. Hugo stood and gazed after her, as if one of the impossible scenes out of his own Indian stories had just been acted before him. Probably, for the first time in his life, the young sailor lost, with his presence of mind, the power of speech also.

"That was plain," said he at last, as he sat down, quite upset; but the next moment he sprang up as if electrified, and cried--

"She has them in truth; the child's beautiful blue eyes. And I discovered them only now! Who, indeed, would look for this glance under that horrible cap? 'We are too good for the scoffs of an adventurer.' Not exactly flattering, but it was merited, although I expected least of all to hear it from her! I shall often try that."

Hugo moved as if going into the guest room, but he stopped again on the threshold, and looked towards the door, by which his sister-in-law had retired. All signs of mockery and mischief had entirely vanished from his face; it bore a thoughtful expression as he said, gently, "And Reinhold only believes she has blue eyes! Incomprehensible!"

In the large concert-room of H----, all the elite of the town seemed to be gathered on the occasion of one of those concerts which, set on foot for some charitable purpose, were patronised by the first families, and whose support and presence there was considered quite a point of honour. To-day the programme only bore well-known names, both as regarded the performances as well as performers; and besides, it was arranged by means of the highest possible prices that the audience should consist principally, if not entirely, of persons belonging to the best circles of society.

The concert had not commenced, and the performers were in a room adjoining, which served as a place of assembly on such occasions, and to which only a few specially favoured of the outside world had the right of entrance. Therefore the presence was the more remarkable of a young man who did not belong either to the favoured or the performers, and who kept aloof from both. He had entered shortly before and addressed himself at once to the conductor, who, although he did not appear to know him, yet must have been informed of his coming, as he received him very politely. The gentlemen around only heard so much of the conversation, that the conductor regretted not to be able to give Mr. Almbach any information: it was Signora Biancona's wish; the Signora would appear directly. The short interview was soon over, and Reinhold drew back.

The group of artists, engaged in lively conversation, broke up suddenly, as the door opened and the young prima donna appeared; she had not been expected so soon, as she usually only drove up at the last moment. Every one began to move. All tried to outdo one another in attentions to their beautiful colleague, but to-day she took remarkably little notice of the wonted homage of her surroundings. Her glance on entering had flown rapidly through the room, and had at once found the object of its search. The Signora deigned to reply to the greetings only very slightly, exchanged a few words with the conductor, and withdrew at once from all further attempts at conversation with the gentlemen, as she turned to Reinhold Almbach, who now approached her, and went towards the farthest window with him.

"You have really come, Signor?" she began in a reproachful tone, "I did not believe, indeed, that you would accept my invitation."

Reinhold looked up, and the forced coldness and formality of the greeting began already to melt as he met her gaze for the first time on that evening.

"Then it was your invitation," he said. "I did not know if I was to consider the one sent by the conductor in your name, as such. It did not contain a single line from you."

Beatrice smiled. "I only followed the example set me. I, too, have received a certain song, whose composer added nothing to his name. I only retaliated."

"Has my silence offended you?" asked the young man, quickly. "I dared add nothing. What--" his eyes sank to the ground--"what should I have said to you?"

The first question was indeed unnecessary; as the devotion of the song seemed to have been understood, and Signora Biancona looked the reverse of offended as she answered--

"You appear to like the wordless form, Signor, and always to wish to speak to me in notes of music. Well, I bowed to your taste, and have determined to answer also only in our language."

She laid a slight but still marked emphasis upon the word. Reinhold raised his head in astonishment.

"In our language?" he repeated slowly.

CHAPTER IV.

Beatrice drew a paper out of the roll of music which she held in her hand. "I have waited in vain for the author of this song to come to me, in order to hear it from my lips and receive my thanks for it. He has left to strangers that which was his duty. I am accustomed to be sought, Signor. You seem to expect the same."

There certainly lay some reproach in her voice, but it was not very harsh, and it would have been hardly possible, as Reinhold's eye betrayed only too plainly what this staying away had cost him. He made no reply to the reproach, did not defend himself against it, but his glance, which seemed magnetically bound by the brilliantly beautiful apparition, told her that his self-restraint was caused by anything rather than indifference.

"Do you think I have sent for you to hear the air which is put down in the programme?" continued the Italian, playfully. "The audience always desires this air da capo; it is too trying for a repetition; I propose, therefore, instead of this, to sing--something else."

A deep glow covered the young man's features, and he stretched out his hand, as if with an unconscious movement, towards the paper.