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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. II.

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

1877.

[All Rights Reserved.]

RIVEN BONDS.

CHAPTER I.

"No!" said Captain Almbach. "That cannot be! I have to make a confession to you, Ella, at the risk of your showing me to the door."

"What have you to confess to me?" asked the astonished Ella.

Hugo looked down.

"That I am still the 'adventurer,' whom you once took so sternly to task. It did not improve him certainly, but he never attempted since to approach you with his follies, and cannot to-day either. To make my tale short, I had no idea you were the inhabitant of this villa, when I directed my steps here. I had myself announced to a perfectly strange gentleman, because Marchese Tortoni had spoken of a young lady, who lived here in complete seclusion, and yes--I knew before hand, that you would look at me in this way--"

Her glance had indeed met him sadly and reproachfully; then she turned silently away and looked out of the window. A pause ensued--Hugo went to her side.

"It was chance which brought me here now, Ella. I am waiting for my lecture."

"You are free, and have no duty to injure," said the young wife, coldly. "Besides, my opinion in such matters can hardly have any influence upon you, Herr Captain Almbach."

"And so Herr Captain Almbach must retire, to find the doors closed against him next time, is it not so?" Unmistakable agitation was heard in his voice. "You are very unjust towards me. That I, thinking to find perfect strangers here, did undertake an adventure--well, that is nothing new to me; but that I was guilty of the boundless folly of confessing it to you, although I had the best excuse for deception, that is very new, and I was only forced to it by your eyes, which looked at me so big and enquiringly, that I became red as a schoolboy, and could not go away with a lie. Therefore I hear Herr Captain Almbach again, who, thank God, had disappeared from our conversation for the last quarter of an hour."

Ella shook her head slightly.

"You have spoiled all my pleasure in our meeting now, certainly----"

"Did it please you? Did it really?" cried Hugo, interrupting her eagerly, with sparkling eyes.

"Of course," said she, quietly. "One is always pleased, when far away, to find greetings and remembrances from home."

"Yes," said Hugo, slowly. "I had quite forgotten that we are country people also. Then you only recognised the German in me? I must confess honestly that my feelings were not so purely patriotic when I saw you again."

"Notwithstanding the unavoidable disillusion which your discovery prepared for you?" asked Ella, somewhat sharply.

Captain Almbach looked at her unabashed for a few seconds.

"You make me suffer greatly for the imprudent confession, Ella. Be it so! I must bear it. Only one question before I go, or one petition rather. May I come again?"

She hesitated with her reply; he came a step nearer.

"May I come again? Ella, what have I done to you that you would banish me also from your threshold?"

There lay a reproach in the words, which did not fail to make an impression upon her.

"I do not do so either," replied she, gently. "If you would seek me again, our door shall not be closed to you."

With quick movement, Hugo caught her hand, and carried it to his lips, but those lips rested on it unusually long, much longer than is customary in kissing a hand, and Ella appeared to think so, as she drew it somewhat hastily away. Equally hastily Captain Almbach drew himself up; the slight red tint which had before lain on his forehead was there again, and he, who was at other times never at a loss for a civility or suitable reply, said now merely monosyllabically--

"Thank you. Until we meet again, then!"

"Until we meet again!" replied Ella, with a confusion that contrasted strangely with the calm and decision which she had shown throughout the whole interview. It almost seemed as if she repented the permission just given, and which still she could not withdraw.

A few minutes later, Captain Almbach found himself in the open air, and slowly he began his return to Mirando. He had again carried out his will, and fulfilled the promise made so confidently that morning. But he seemed little inclined to make much of his triumph. Looking back to the villa, he passed his hand across his forehead, like some one awaking from a dream.

"I believe that the elegiac atmosphere of Mirando has infected me," he muttered, angrily. "I begin to look upon the simplest things from the most fantastically, romantic point of view. What is there, then, in this meeting that I cannot get over it? The Erlau drawing-rooms have been a good school to be sure, and the pupil has learned unexpectedly, quickly, and easily. I suspected something of that for long, and yet--folly! What is it to me if Reinhold learn at last to repent his blindness! And she does not even know how near he is, so near that a meeting cannot be avoided much longer. I fear any attempt at approaching her would cost Reinhold much dearer than that first one. What a singularly icy expression there was in her face when I hinted at the possibility of a reconciliation! That;" here Hugo breathed more freely, perhaps, in unacknowledged but great satisfaction--"that said, No! to all eternity. And if chance or fate lead them together, now, it is too late--now he has lost her."

On the mirror-like blue sea a boat glided, which, coming from S----, bore in the direction of Mirando. The bark's elegant exterior showed that it was the property of some rich family, and the two rowers wore the livery of the Tortonis. Nevertheless, for the gentleman, who besides these two was the sole occupant of the boat, neither the rapid motion nor the magnificent panorama all around appeared to possess the slightest interest. He leant back in his seat, with closed eyes, as if asleep, and only looked up at last when the boat lay to at the marble steps, which led directly down from the villa's terrace to the sea. He stepped out. A sign dismissed the two men, who, like all the Marchese's servants, were accustomed to pay to their master's celebrated guest, the same respect as to himself. A few strokes of the oars carried the boat to one side, and immediately after it was anchored in the little harbour away by the park.

Reinhold stepped on to the steps, and ascended them slowly. He came from S----, where Beatrice had, in the meantime, arrived. As usual, the actress here, also, where all foreigners and inhabitants of position assembled for their villegiatura. was surrounded by acquaintances and admirers, and Reinhold no sooner found himself at her side than the same fate, and, indeed, to a greater extent, became his. In Beatrice's vicinity there was no rest and no relaxation for him; she dragged him at once into the vortex with her. The hours, which he intended to spend with her, had become days, which in excitement and distraction did not yield the palm to the last weeks in town, and after having accompanied her yester evening to a large fête, which had continued the whole night until morning's dawn, he had torn himself away at day-break, and thrown himself into the boat in order to return to Mirando.

He drew a deep breath at the quiet and loneliness around him, undisturbed even by a word of greeting or welcome. Cesario, as he knew, had early this morning undertaken an expedition to the neighbouring island, in Hugo's company, from which both were only expected back towards evening, and for strangers the villa was not yet accessible. The young Marchese did not like to be disturbed in the seclusion of his villegiatura. and his steward had received orders not to allow any strange visitors to enter during his residence, an order which was carried out most strictly, to the great dissatisfaction of travellers, by whom Mirando was considered a favourite goal for excursions. The estate, with its extensive gardens, and magnificent buildings, which in the north would certainly have been called a castle, and here merely bore the modest name of a villa, was celebrated far and near, not only on account of its paradise-like situation and the boundless view over the sea, but also because of the rich art-treasures which it concealed inside, and which now merely charmed the eyes of the few who had the good fortune of being permitted to call themselves the Marchese's guests.

Short of rest, tired, and yet unable to seek repose and sleep, Reinhold threw himself on to one of the marble benches in the shade of the colonnade; he felt strained to the utmost exhaustion. Yes, these sultry Italian nights, with their intoxicating perfume of flowers, and their moonlight quiet, or the noisy clamour of a feast, these sunshiny days, with the ever-blue sky, and the glowing splendour of the earth's colours, they had given him everything of which he had ever dreamed in the cold, dreary north; but they had also cost him the best part of his life's strength. The time was long since passed when all existence appeared to be only one course of glowing intoxication and of inspiring dreams to the young composer. This had lasted for months, for years; then gradually weariness came on, and at last the awaking, when this beautiful world, sparkling with colour, lay so empty and cold before him, where the ideals collapsed, and freedom, once so fiercely longed for, became an endless desert, to which no duty, but also no desire set a limit. With the fetters which he had broken so eagerly and ruthlessly he had also lost the reins; he wandered out into the boundless, and the boundlessness had become a curse to him.

Certainly, the internal Prometheus-like spark preserved the artist from the fate which overtook so many others, from that helpless sinking into a sensation of being surfeited and indifferent to everything; but the same power which ever and ever again forced him out of it, drove him helpless hither and thither, seeking the only thing which was wanting, and ever would be wanting. Italy in all its beauty was not able to give it to him, not Beatrice's glowing love, not art, which had offered him the fullest wealth of fame--the phantom melted so soon as he stretched out his arms towards it. And even if the wondrous flora of the south had displayed itself to him in all its exhilarating glory, still he would not have found the blue flower of the fairy legends.

Reinhold started up suddenly from his dreams, something had disturbed him in them. Was it a step, a rustle?--he raised himself, and, with extreme surprise, saw a lady standing only a few paces distant on the terrace, gazing out over the sea. What could it mean? How did this stranger come here, now when Mirando was not accessible to visitors; she could only a few minutes since have passed through the open door leading into the saloon, which contained the celebrated collection of pictures, belonging to the villa, and appeared to have remarked the solitary dreamer in the colonnade as little as he had remarked her.

Reinhold had long since become indifferent to woman's beauty, but involuntarily this apparition enchained him. She stood under the shadow of one of the gigantic vases which ornamented the terrace; only the bowed head was caught by the full sunlight, and the heavy blonde plaits gleamed in the rays like spun gold. Her face was half averted. Her delicate, clear and nobly chiselled profile could hardly be seen. Her slight figure in its airy white robes leaned lightly in an undeniably graceful attitude against the marble balustrade; her left hand rested on it, while the drooping right one held her straw hat decorated with flowers. She stood immovable, quite lost in contemplation of the sea, and had evidently no idea that she was observed.

It was still early in the day. The morning had risen bright and clear out of the sea, and now lay smiling sunnily in dewy freshness over the whole country. A blue mist still encircled the mountains and the distant coasts, whose lines seemed to tremble as if blown with a breath on the horizon, and the still moist air was quivering as if with a silvery light. There was something fairy-like in this morning hour and this surrounding, above all in yonder white figure with the golden glimmering hair, and Mirando itself, with its white marble pillars and terraces, appeared like a fairy castle, which had risen out of the liquid depths. Deep blue was the arching sky above, and deep blue the sea laving its feet. The scent of flowers was wafted hither from the gardens, but ghostly silence reigned everywhere, as if all life were banished or sunk in sleep. No sound anywhere, nothing but the gentle splashing of the sea, ever the same dream-like murmur of the waves, which kissed the marble steps, and before one nothing to be seen save the blue, heaving expanse, which extended far away into boundless distance.

Reinhold remained motionless in his position, he would not disturb the charm of this moment by any movement. It was as if a breath of the old legendary poems of his home were wafted to him, long forgotten but rising now suddenly before him with all their melancholy charms. Suddenly this deep calm was interrupted by the clear joyfulness of a child's voice. A boy of about seven or eight rushed up the steps of the terrace, a large shining mussel shell in his hand, which he had picked up somewhere on the shore. The child was evidently most delighted with his discovery, his whole little face beamed, as, with glowing cheeks and streaming locks, he hastened towards the lady, who turned her head round at his cry.

With a half suppressed exclamation, Reinhold sprang up and remained as if rooted to the ground. The moment she had turned her face completely towards him, he recognised the stranger, who bore Ella's features and yet could not be Ella. Bewildered, deadly pale, he stared at the lady, whose poetical appearance he had just been admiring, and who yet, in every feature, resembled his so despised, and at last forsaken wife. She, too, had recognised him; the intense pallor which also overspread her face, betrayed it, as did her sudden start backwards. She grasped the marble balustrade as if seeking for support, but now the boy had reached her and, holding the mussel aloft with both hands, cried triumphantly--

"Mamma! dear mamma, see what I have found!"

This roused Reinhold from his stupor. Bewilderment, fright, astonishment, all disappeared as he heard his child's voice. Following the impulse of the moment, he rushed forward, and stretched out his arms, to draw the boy eagerly to his breast.

"Reinhold!"

Almbach stopped as if struck; but the name was not for him, only for the boy, who, immediately obeying her call, hastened to his mother. With a rapid movement she placed both arms around him, as if to protect and conceal her child, and then drew herself up. The pallor had not left her face yet, her lips still trembled, but her voice sounded firm and energetic.

"You must not trouble strangers, Reinhold. Come, my child! We will go."

Almbach started, and stepped back a pace; the tone was as new to him as the whole person of her, whom he once called his wife. Had he not recognised her voice, he would have believed more than ever in a delusion. The little one, on the contrary, looked up in surprise at the rebuke. He had not even gone near to the strange gentleman, and certainly had not troubled him, but he saw in his mother's colourlessness and excitement that something unusual had occurred, and the child's large blue eyes fixed themselves defiantly, almost antagonistically upon the stranger, who, he guessed instinctively, was the cause of his mother's alarm.

Ella bad already recovered herself. She turned to go, her arm still held firmly round her boy's shoulder, but Reinhold now stepped hastily in her way--she was obliged to stop.

"Will you be so good as to allow us to pass?" said she, coldly and distantly. "I beg you to do so."

"What does this mean, Ella?" exclaimed Reinhold, now in passionate excitement. "You have recognised me, as well as I have you. Why this tone between us?"

She looked at him; in that glance lay the whole reply; icy-cold, annihilating scorn; he had indeed never deemed it possible that Ella's eyes could look thus, but he turned his to the ground beneath them.

"Will you be so good as to leave us the road free, Signor?" she repeated in perfectly pure Italian, as if she imagined that he did not understand German. There lay a positive tone of command in the words, and Reinhold--obeyed. His self-possession quite lost, he moved aside and let her pass. He saw how she descended the steps with the child, how a servant below, in strange livery, who seemed to have waited, joined them, and how all three hurried through the gardens; but he himself still stood above on the terrace and tried to remember whether he had been dreaming and the whole had not been merely a picture of his imagination.

The noisy locking of the door which led to the picture gallery, brought him back to his senses. A few steps took him there, and throwing the door open roughly he entered the saloon, where the steward of Mirando was just engaged in letting the blinds down again, which he had drawn up to give a better light.

"Who was the lady with the child, who was just now on the terrace?" With this hasty question, Reinhold rushed in upon the man, who seemed shocked when he saw his master's guest before him, having believed him still to be in S----; he hesitated with his reply in evident confusion.

"Pardon me, Signor, I had no idea that you had returned already, and as Eccellenza and the Signor Capitano are only expected this evening, I ventured----"

"Who was the lady?" persisted Reinhold, in feverish impatience, without paying attention to the answer. "Where did she come from?--quick, I must know it!"

"From the villa Fiorina," said the steward half-wonderingly, half-frightened at the questioner's eagerness. "The strange lady wished to see Mirando, and let her servant apply for her. Eccellenza has certainly ordered that no visitors are to be admitted during his residence here, but this morning no one was at home, so I thought I might make an exception;" he paused, and then added, in a tone of entreaty, "It would be sure to cause me great trouble with Eccellenza, if Signor Rinaldo were to tell him."

"I? no," said Reinhold, absently, "what was the lady's name?"

"Erlau, if I understood rightly."

"Erlau?--oh!" Almbach passed his hand over his forehead; "That is all, Mariano, thank you," said he, and left the saloon.

The day had become burningly hot, nor did the evening bring coolness or refreshment. Air and sea did not appear to be stirred by any breath, and the sun went down in hot clouds of mist. In the villa Fiorina also they seemed to suffer from the oppression. The inhabitants confined themselves probably to the cooler rooms, as the jalousies had not been opened the whole day, and the glass doors which led to the terrace remained closed. The German family hardly occupied half of the capacious dwelling which it had engaged entirely for itself. A few rooms to the right of the garden saloon were arranged for the Consul--those on the opposite side were inhabited by his adopted daughter, with her child; the servants were located in the back apartments, and the rest remained empty.

The evening was already far advanced when Ella entered the garden saloon, which was illuminated by a lamp. The Consul had retired to rest, and she came from her boy, whom, after he had fallen asleep, she had left to his attendant's care. Perhaps it was the dim light which made her face still appear pale; the colour had not returned to it since the morning, even although her features seemed perfectly calm.

She opened the glass door and stepped out on to the terrace. Outside, perfect darkness reigned already; no moon's rays pierced the clouds which still enveloped the sky, no breath of wind from the sea moved the blooming shrubs; sultry and heavy, the air seemed regularly to weigh upon the earth, and the sea lay in idle repose, almost motionless. It was alarming in this dense stillness and darkness, yet Ella appeared to prefer this to remaining in the lighted garden saloon. She stood leaning against the stone balustrade, as in the morning, partially still in the pale circle of light which fell through the open door on to the terrace, and, although indistinctly, displayed the slight form.

A few moments may have passed thus, when she was startled by a noise near her. With a low cry, she tried to take refuge in the house, as close by her there stood a tall, dark man's figure; at the same moment, however, a hand was laid upon her arm, and a suppressed voice said--

"Be composed, Ella, it is neither a robber nor a thief who stands before you, although you have forced me to choose the path of such an one."

The young wife had recognised Reinhold's voice at the first word, but she only drew back nearer to the threshold of the glass door.

"What do you desire, Signor?" said she coldly, in Italian. "And what does this intrusion at such an hour mean?"

Reinhold had followed her, but he did not again attempt to touch her arm, or even go near her.

"Above all, I wish you to have the goodness to speak German to me," retorted he, with difficulty restraining his excitement. "I have not quite forgotten our own language, as you seem to suppose. Whence do I come? From yonder boat! The terrace, at least is not so inaccessible as the doors of your house, which remained closed to me."

He pointed towards the sea. It was a risk to ascend the high stone terrace from a tossing boat, but Reinhold did not seem to be in a mood to think of the possibility of danger. He had apparently been there already when she came out, and now continued more excitedly--

"It is probably not unknown to you that I have been here once already this morning. But you refused me, or rather Erlau did, because as a matter of course I was not so wanting in tact as to enquire for you. He neither received me nor the note, which contained my petition, yet you must both have known what brought me here, so nothing but self-help remained. You see I have gained admittance after all."

He spoke with keenest bitterness. The proud composer felt the double rejection which he had experienced to-day to be a deadly insult. One could hear how he struggled with his pride, even now, for every word, and it must have been a powerful motive which brought him here, notwithstanding all, and by such a path! His wife had clearly no share in it, as he stood opposite her in gloomy, unbending defiance. As a boy, Reinhold Almbach could never bear to humble himself, not even when he knew himself to be wrong, and during the latter years he had too often gained the dangerous experience that any error he committed was covered by the right of genius, which may permit itself to do almost anything.

While these last words were being spoken, they had entered the garden below. In the middle of it Ella stopped.

"Signor Rinaldo appears to have mistaken his way, this time," said she, certainly in German, but in the same tone as before. "Yonder in S----, lies the villa where Signora Biancona resides, and it can only be a mistake which landed his boat at our terrace."

The reproach hit him; Almbach's defiant look sank, and for a few moments he was at a loss for a reply.

"I do not seek Signora Biancona this time," replied he at last, "and that I am not permitted to seek Eleonore Almbach, she showed me sufficiently this morning. It was not my intention to offend you again by sight of me; it would have been spared you, had you acceded to my written request. I came to see my child alone."

With a rapid step the young wife reached the bedroom door, and placed herself before it. She did not speak a word, but in the evident internal emotion there lay such an energetic protest, that Reinhold immediately understood her intention.

"Will you not allow me to embrace my son?" asked he, angrily.

"No," was the firm reply, given with the most positive determination.

Reinhold was about to fly into a passion; she saw how he clenched his fist, but he forced himself to be calm.

"I see that I did your late father injustice," said he, bitterly; "I took it to be his work that all news of my boy was withheld from me. Did you read my first letter yourself, and leave it unanswered?"

"Yes."

"And returned the second unopened?"

"Yes."

Reinhold's face changed from red to white; mutely he gazed at his wife, from whose lips he had never heard an expression of her own will, much less any opposition--whom he only knew as humbly and silently obedient, and who now dared to refuse with such decision to grant him what he considered his own right.

"Take care, Ella," said he, firmly, "whatever may have taken place between us, whatever you may have to reproach me with, this tone of scorn I will not endure; and above all, I will not tolerate being refused the sight of my boy. I will see my child."

The demand sounded almost threatening. The young wife's pale cheeks began to colour slightly, but she did not move from her place.

"Your child?" asked she, slowly; "the boy belongs to me, me only; you lost every right to him when you left him with me."

"That may still be questioned," cried Almbach, beginning to wax furious. "Are we judicially separated? Has the law given Reinhold to you? He remains my son, whatever there may be between you and me; and if you refuse me my rights as a father any longer, I shall know how to enforce them."

The threat was not without effect, but it quite failed in its purpose. Ella drew herself up, and exclaimed with quivering lips, but with great energy--

"You will not do that; you have not the conscience to do it, and if you had, there is, thank God, another power to which I can appeal, and which is, perhaps, not quite so indifferent to you as the family bonds and duties which you broke so lightly. The world would learn that Signor Rinaldo, after he had forsaken his wife and child for years, and had not enquired after them, now dares to threaten his wife with the same laws which he scorned and spurned with his feet, because she does not choose that her boy should call him father; and all your fame, and all the adoration yonder, would not protect you from the merited contempt."

"Eleonore!"

It was a cry of rage which escaped his lips as she uttered the last word, and his eyes flashed in terrific wildness down upon the delicate form standing before him. Once Reinhold's passion was excited to its utmost, it knew no limits, and all around him were wont to tremble. Even Beatrice, although so little his inferior in violence, dared not at such moments irritate him farther; she knew where the line was drawn, and once this was reached she always yielded. Here it was different; the first time for years he was stranded by another's will; before the eyes which met his own, so clear and large, his defiance succumbed altogether--he was silent.

"You see yourself that it would be worse than mockery were you to resort to law," said his wife, more calmly.

Reinhold leaned heavily against the seat near which he stood. Was it shame or anger made the hand tremble which buried itself in the cushion?

"I see that I laboured under a serious mistake when I believed I knew the woman who was called my wife for two years," replied he, in a singularly compressed tone. "Had you only once shown yourself to be the same Eleonore whom I meet now, much would have remained undone. Who taught you this language?"

"The hour in which you forsook me," replied she, with annihilating coldness, as she turned away.

"That hour seems to have given you much more that was once foreign to you--the pleasure of revenge, for example."

"And the pride, which I never knew, towards you," completed Ella. "I had first to be crushed to the ground, but it awoke and showed me what I owed to myself and my child, the only thing you had left to me, the only thing that kept me up; for his sake I began again to learn, to work, when the time for learning lay far behind me; for his sake I roused myself above the prejudices and trammels of my education, and gave my life a new direction when my parents' death made me free. I must be everything now to the child, as it was everything to me, and I had sworn that my child should never be ashamed of its mother, as his father was ashamed of her, because externally she was inferior to other women."

Almbach's brow was dyed a deeper red at the last words--

"It was not my intention to dispute Reinhold with you," said he hastily. "I only wished to see him in your presence if it must be. You know only too well what a weapon the child is in your hands, and you use it mercilessly against me, Ella." He came nearer to her and for the first time there was something like a tone of entreaty in his voice. "Ella, it is our child. This link at least extends out of the past into the present, the only one between us which is not broken. Will you break it now? Shall the chance which brought us together really remain merely chance? It lies in your hands to make it a turning point of fate which may perhaps be for the good of us both."

The hint was plain enough, but the young wife drew back, and on her countenance again that expression, full of meaning--that "No!" spoke to all eternity.

"For us both?" repeated she. "Then you really believe I could find happiness by your side, after all you have done to me? Truly Reinhold, you must be much impressed with your own value, or my worthlessness, that you venture to offer it to me. Certainly, when could you have learned respect for me? It was not possible in my parents' house. I was brought up in obedience and submission, and I brought both to my husband. What was my reward for it? I was the last in his house, and the last in his heart. He never thought it worth while to ask if the woman, to whom he had bound himself, was really so contracted in mind, so incapable of appreciating anything higher, or if she were only rendered timid by the oppression of her mode of bringing up, from which we both suffered. He rejected my shy attempt to approach him, scornfully, woundingly, and let me feel hourly and daily that only the merit of being his child's mother gave me any claim upon his endurance. And when art and life were opened to him, he cast me aside as a burden, which he had borne long enough with dislike; he gave me up to be the talk of the world, to scorn, to dishonouring pity; he left me for the sake of another, and at this other's side never asked if his wife's heart were broken at the death-stroke he had dealt her--and now, you think that only one word is needed to undo all this! You think you only require to stretch out your hand to draw to yourself again that which once you rejected! Do you think it? No; one cannot play so with what is holiest upon earth; and if you thought the despised, repulsed Ella would obey the first sign by which you signify that you would take her back into favour, I tell you now she would rather die with her child, than follow you once more. You have set yourself free from your duties as husband and father, and we have learnt to do without the husband and father. You have shown it, plainly enough, that we are the 'bonds' which fettered the wings of your genius--well, now they are broken, broken by you, and I give you my word for it, they shall never oppress you again. You have your laurels and your--muse; what do you want with wife and child also?"

She ceased, overcome with excitement, and pressed both hands against her stormily heaving bosom. Reinhold had become deadly pale, and yet his eyes hung on her as if enchained. The lamp-light fell full upon her face and the fair plaits as on that evening when he announced the separation so mercilessly. But what had become of that Ella who then hung timidly and shyly on his looks, and obediently followed every sign, every mood? No one trait of her was to be discovered in the being who stood drawn up opposite him, so haughty and proud, and who hurled back so energetically upon him the humiliations she had once received. They could burn, these blue fairy-tale eyes, burn in glowing indignation; he saw this now, but he saw also, for the first time, how wondrously beautiful they were, how ravishing the whole appearance of the young wife--in the excitement, and amid the anger and rage of the highly irritated husband, something flashed out which almost resembled admiration.

"Is that your final word?" asked he at last, after a pause of some seconds.

"My final one!"

With a rapid movement, Reinhold drew himself up. All his antagonism and pride broke forth again at this mode of refusal. He went towards the door, while Ella remained immovable at her post, but at the threshold he stopped once more and turned back.

"I did not ask if my wife's heart were broken by the death-stroke which I dealt her," repeated he in a smothered voice; "Did you feel it at all, Ella?"

She was silent.

"I certainly did not believe it then," continued Reinhold bitterly, "and to-day's meeting makes me doubt more than ever that your heart suffered from a separation which certainly wounded your pride more deeply than I had ever deemed possible. You need not guard the door so anxiously; I see, indeed, that I must first dash you aside in order to reach the child, and that courage I possess not. You have conquered this time; I renounce my purpose of seeing him again. Farewell!"

He went. She heard his steps outside on the terrace, then the rustle of the shrubs as he pushed his way through them, and at last the stroke of the oars, which bore the boat away from the shore. The wife breathed more freely, and left the place she had defended so energetically. She went to the glass door; perhaps a slight anxiety arose in her as to whether the venturesome leap from the terrace would be as successful as the ascent to it had been, but in the darkness nothing could be distinguished. As before, the sea lay in idle calm. Far above, the still, sultry night spread its wings, and flowers bloomed all around, but every trace of Reinhold had disappeared.

CHAPTER II.

The clear balmy spring days were followed by summer's burning glow. The gulf and its environs lay day after day illuminated by the sun in all their beauty, but also in the almost tropical heat of the south; only the sea breeze brought any coolness, so that the sea was the object of most excursions which were now undertaken.

This repose of nature, which had continued for some weeks, was followed at last by an outbreak; a thunderstorm raged in the air, and stirred up the ocean to its innermost depths. The storm had come up so quickly, broken loose so suddenly, that no one had been prepared for it, and it had lasted for more than an hour already, with undiminished fury.

A boat shot through the foaming waves, and, apparently overtaken by the storm, found itself struggling with the billows. For some time it had been in danger of being seized without hope of rescue, and dashed out into the open sea, but now with full sails set it flew towards the coast, and after a few futile attempts succeeded at last in being landed.

"That is really racing with the storm for a wager," cried Hugo Almbach, as he, wet through with rain and spray, was the first to spring on shore. "For this once we have fortunately escaped the wet embrace of the goddess of the sea. We were near enough to her."

"It was lucky having such a true sailor with us," said Marchese Tortoni, following him in a not less wet condition. "It was a master-work, Signor Capitano, bringing us safely on shore in such a storm. We should have been lost without you." Reinhold lifted the half unconscious Signora Biancona, who clung to him, trembling and deadly pale, out of the boat. "For heaven's sake, calm yourself, Beatrice! The danger is over," said he impatiently, as the last occupant of the boat, the English gentleman, who had been present at Hugo's former incognito discussion with Maestro Gianelli, also gained terra firma.

In the meanwhile, Jonas poured forth all his contempt upon the two sailors to whom the guidance had originally been entrusted, and who fortunately did not understand the terms of praise addressed to them in German.

"They call themselves sailors, they want to manage a ship, and when a paltry storm comes on, they lose their heads and cry to their saints. If my Herr Captain had not seized the rudder out of your hands, and I taken the sails upon myself, we should now be lying below with the sharks. I should like you to experience such a storm as our 'Ellida' underwent before we ran in here, then you would know what a little blowing on your gulf means."

The little blowing would have been looked upon by any one else than the sailor as a regular stiff storm. At all events it had endangered the lives of the party, and they owed their safety only to the energetic guidance of Captain Almbach, who now turned aside from the Marchese's and the Englishman's expression of thanks.

"Do not mention it, Signor! Such a trip is nothing new or unusual to me. I only pitied you, on account of the disagreeable circumstances in which you had been placed by the temper of a pretty woman."

"Yes, women are to blame for everything," muttered Jonas furiously, while Hugo continued in an undertone--

"I knew two hours ago what the sky and sea prophesied to us, notwithstanding their bright appearance. You know how earnestly I opposed the trip; however, Signora Biancona insisted positively upon it, and condescended to scoff at the 'timid sailor,' who could not even 'venture upon his own element.' I think surely my courage will be rather less doubtful in her eyes; hers on the contrary"--he broke off suddenly, and made a few steps to the other side. "May I enquire how you feel, Signora?"

Beatrice still trembled; but the sight of her opponent, who stood before her like the perfection of politeness, and perfection of malice, restored her consciousness to some extent. That he opposed the expedition had been sufficient to make her insist upon it with intense obstinacy, and render the other gentlemen deaf to all warning by her mocking remarks. The deadly fear of the last hour had given her a bitter lesson, certainly, and it was still more bitter to be obliged to owe her life to Captain Almbach, who had become the hero of the day, while she during the danger had shown herself anything but heroic.

"Thank you--I am better," answered she, still struggling between anger and confusion.

"I am delighted to hear that," assured Hugo, as in the midst of the rain he made her an unexceptionable drawing-room bow, "and now I shall put myself at the head of an expedition of discovery into the interior. Go on Jonas, reconnoitre the territory! Reinhold, you are no stranger here in the neighbourhood; do you not know where we are?"

"No," replied Reinhold, after a short and rapid glance around.

"And you, Marchese Tortoni?"

Cesario shrugged his shoulders--

"I regret that I also am unable to give you any information. I seldom leave the immediate environs of Mirando; besides, in such weather it is almost impossible to know one's bearings."

This certainly was true; earth, sky and sea seemed to flow into one another in rolling mist. He could see barely a hundred yards over the raging sea, and not much farther over the land. No hills, no landmarks were visible; a dense grey veil of fog imprisoned everything, and yet Captain Almbach did not allow that to be any excuse.

"Unpractical, artist natures!" muttered he, annoyed. "They sit there for months in their Mirando and go into ecstasies day after day about the incomparable beauty of their gulf, but do not know the coast, and if once they are a mile away from the great tourist highway, they have no idea where they are. Lord Elton, will you be so good as come to my side? I think we are both best suited to being pioneers."

Lord Elton, who at the first meeting had been much pleased with Hugo's mischievous nature, and who had been highly impressed by him to-day, acceded immediately to the request. With the same imperturbable calm which he had shown before in danger, he placed himself at the sailor's side and went forward, while the other gentlemen followed with Beatrice.

"It appears to me that chance has thrown us on a rather benighted coast," said Hugo, scoffingly, upon whose temper the weather did not exercise the slightest influence. "According to my calculations, we must be quite ten or twelve miles distant from S----, and on our left some hills are faintly visible through the fog, with very suspicious looking ravines. Gennaro's band is said to frequent these mountains. What should you say, my Lord, if we were to taste some of the regular Italian romance of horror?"

Lord Elton turned with sudden liveliness to the ravines pointed out, which certainly looked unpleasant enough in the thick fog, and scanned them attentively.

"Indeed, that would be very interesting."

"Provided there were a pretty 'brigandess' amongst them, not otherwise," added Hugo.

"Gennaro's band has no woman with it. I have learned all particulars," said the former, seriously.

"What a pity! The band seems to be very uncivilised still, that it has so little consideration for the natural wishes of its honoured guests. However, that would be something for my Jonas--a life without women! If he were to hear us he would desert and take his oath of allegiance to Gennaro's flag; I must take care of him."

"Do not joke so thoughtlessly," interposed the Marchese. "Remember, Signor, we have a lady with us, and are all unarmed."

"Excepting my Lord, who always carries a six chamber revolver with him as a pocket match-box," said Hugo, laughing. "We others did not think it necessary to load ourselves with weapons when we undertook this harmless expedition. Besides, we have more efficacious protection to-day than two dozen carabineers would give us. In this rain no brigand would venture forth."

"Do you think so?" asked Lord Elton in unmistakable disappointment.

"Certainly, my Lord! and for my part I think it will be better to forego the pleasure party in the mountains this time. Is it not also remarkable that we two, the only non-artists in the party, are the only two who appear to have any sense of the romance of the situation? My brother," here Hugo lowered his voice, "walks by Signora Biancona like an irritated lion; besides he is now in his lion's mood, and it is wisest to approach him as little as possible. Signora never brought tragic despair to such perfection of expression on the stage as at this moment, and Marchese Cesario stares illogically into the mist instead of admiring our highly effective expedition in the rain. Ah, there something peeps out like a building, and Jonas returns from his reconnaissance. Well, what is it?"

"A locanda!" reported Jonas, who had gone on in front and was returning hastily. "Now we are sheltered," added he triumphantly.

"Heaven has mercy," cried Hugo, pathetically, as he turned round to impart the welcome news to the others. The prospect of shelter being near did indeed revive the sinking courage of the party; they redoubled their steps, and soon found themselves in the covered entrance of the house indicated.

"The rough sailor's cloak has been made enviably happy to-day," said Captain Almbach, as he removed his garment from Signora Biancona's shoulders in the most polite manner. "I knew we should require it to-day, therefore I ventured to bring it with me. The cloak quite protected you, Signora."

Beatrice pressed her lips hastily together, as with forced thanks she returned the shielding wrap. It had been hard enough to accept it from Captain Almbach's hand; however, he was the only person in possession of such a thing, and no choice remained to her, if she did not wish to be quite wet through. But like all passionate natures, she could not endure mockery, and this detested courtesy of her opponent never gave her the opportunity of decided antagonism towards him, and kept her mercilessly fast within the limits of social requirements.

The locanda. which lay rather lonely by the shore away from the great tourist highways, was not one of those which are frequented by more distinguished guests, and left much to be wished for as regards cleanliness and comfort, but the weather and their thoroughly damp state did not allow the guests to be particular. At any rate there were some apartments which were called guest chambers, and really at times served young painters and wandering tourists as a night's quarters. Beatrice was horrified on entering, and the Marchese looked with mute resignation at these rooms, which were certainly very unlike those of his Mirando; Lord Elton on the contrary reconciled himself better to the inevitable, and so far as the two brothers were concerned, Reinhold appeared quite indifferent to the style of the reception, and Hugo much amused by it. They now learned also that they were quite twelve miles distant from S----, and that another travelling party had already sought refuge here from the storm. But fortunately it had arrived at the beginning of the same, and in a carriage, therefore had not suffered from the rain like the lady and gentlemen just reaching it, at whose disposal all which the place contained was readily placed.

A quarter of an hour later, Hugo entered the general public and reception-room, and with his foot softly pushed aside a black, bristly object, which had laid itself just before the door with admirable coolness, and now left its place grunting crossly.

"These dear little animals appear to be considered quite fit for a drawing-room here; with us they are merely so in a roasted state," said he, quietly. "I wanted to see where you were, Reinhold. My God, you are still in your wet clothes. Why have you not changed?"

Reinhold, who stood at the window and gazed out at the sea, turned and cast an abstracted look at his brother, who already, like the other gentlemen, had made use of the padrone's and his son's Sunday clothes brought hastily to them.

"Changed my clothes? Oh to be sure, I had forgotten."

"Then do it now!" urged Hugo. "Do you wish to ruin your health entirely?"

Reinhold made an impatient deprecating gesture. "Leave me alone! What a fuss about a storm of rain."

"Well, the rain storm was within a hair's breadth of being fatal to us," said Captain Almbach, "and I can bear testimony, as pilot, that my ship's crew behaved bravely, with the single exception of Donna Beatrice. She made rather extensive use of her rights as a lady, first by bringing us into danger, and then increasing its difficulties tenfold."

"For which you have the triumph that she owes her life to you, as do we all," suggested Reinhold, indifferently.

Hugo looked sharply at his brother. "Which in your case you seem to value very slightly."

"I, why?"

He did not wait for the reply, and turned again to the window; but Hugo was already at his side and put an arm round his shoulder.

"What is the matter, Reinhold?" asked he again in the tone of former tenderness with which he once surrounded the younger brother--whom he knew to be oppressed and miserable in their relations' house--and which had now become so rare between them. Reinhold was silent.

"I hoped you would at last find the rest here which you sought for so passionately," continued Captain Almbach, more seriously, "instead of which you rush about worse than ever during the last week. We are barely, even nominally, the Marchese's guests any more. You drag him and us all into this constant change of distractions and excursions. From ship to carriage, from carriage to mules, as if every moment of repose or solitude were a torture to you, and once we are in the midst of the excitement you are often enough like a marble guest amongst us. What has happened?"

Reinhold turned, not violently but decidedly, away from Hugo's arms.

"That, I cannot tell you."

"Reinhold--"

"Leave me--I beg you."

Captain Almbach stepped back; he saw the repulse did not proceed from temper; the faint, constrained tone, betrayed suppressed pain only too well, but he knew of old that nothing could be gained from his brother in such a state of mind.

"The storm seems to be at an end," said he, after a short pause, "but at present it will be useless thinking of our return. We cannot under any circumstances venture on the boisterous sea again to-day, and the road will be in a bad enough state, too. I have promised the gentlemen to obtain some information respecting it for them, as to whether our return would be possible to-day, and if we may not expect a second outbreak from the clouds. The verandah up there seems to offer a tolerably free view; I will try it."

He left the room, and ascended the stairs. The verandah lay on the other side of the house; it was a large stone adjunct, which probably dated from a former more brilliant period of the building, now, like the latter, neglected, half decayed, but extremely picturesque in its ruins and with its creeping vines, which climbed around the pillars and balustrade. A long open gallery led into it, and Hugo was just going to pass along it, when he was arrested. A pigeon fluttered immediately before him, chased by a boy in distinguished, fashionable-looking dress. The tame bird, accustomed to mankind, did not think seriously of flight; it flitted, as if playfully, along the floor, and only when the little arms were stretched out to catch it, did it soar easily up to the roof of the house, while the eager little follower rushed forward in wild career, and so ran up against Captain Almbach.

"See there, Signorino, that was nearly becoming a collision," said Hugo, as he caught the little one; but the latter, still full of eagerness for the chase, stretched both hands up above, and cried vivaciously in German--

"I do so want the bird. Can you not catch him for me?"

"No, my little sportsman, I cannot, unless I could put on wings," said Hugo, playfully, as he examined the boy closer, astonished to hear his own language. He started, looked intently into his eyes a few seconds, and then lifted him up suddenly, to fold him with increasing tenderness in his arms.

The little one permitted the caress to take place calmly, but somewhat astonished. "You speak just like mamma and uncle Erlau," said he confidingly. "I do not understand any one else, and at home I understood all."

"Is your mamma here also?" enquired Hugo, hastily.

The child nodded, and pointed to the other side. Captain Almbach put him down quickly, and stepped on to the verandah with him, where Ella was coming towards them, and stood still in speechless surprise when she saw her boy holding his uncle's hand.

"Must we meet here?" cried the latter, greeting her eagerly. "I thought you never left Villa Fiorina, especially in such weather."

"It is the first excursion, too, that we have attempted," replied Ella. "My uncle's continued improved health led us to undertake a visit to the temple ruins in the mountains, but on our return journey the storm overtook us, and as the horses threatened to become unmanageable, we were glad to find shelter and refuge here."

"We are in the same plight," reported Hugo, "only it was worse for us, as we came by water."

A momentary pallor spread over Ella's countenance.

"How? You are accompanied by your brother? I imagined it when I saw you."

Hugo made a gesture of assent. "You told me you wished to avoid a meeting at any price," began he again.

"I. wished it; yes!" interrupted she, firmly, "but it was impossible. We have seen each other already."

"I thought so!" muttered Captain Almbach. "Thence his incomprehensible reserve."

"Why did you not tell me you were guests of the owner of Mirando?" asked Ella, reproachfully. "I believed you to be in S----, and went unsuspectingly to see the villa. Only when too late did I learn who was staying in our immediate neighbourhood."

Hugo scanned her face with a rapid glance, as if he wished to assure himself of her self-possession.

"You spoke to Reinhold?" said he, in extreme anxiety, without noticing her reproach. "Well, then?"

"Well, then?" replied she, with an almost harsh expression, "Do not be afraid! Signor Rinaldo knows now that he must remain at a distance from me and my son. He will acknowledge us at any possible meeting as little as I shall acknowledge him."

"To-day it would certainly be impossible," replied Hugo seriously, "as he is not alone. I fear, Ella, even that will not be spared you."

"You mean a meeting with Signora Biancona?" Ella could not preserve her lips from trembling as she uttered the name, however much she forced herself to appear calm, "Well, if it cannot be avoided, I shall know how to endure it."

During this conversation they had drawn near the balustrade. The storm was really over, and the sluices of heaven seemed to have exhausted themselves at last, but the air still hung damp and laden with rain. The wet vines, torn and disordered by the storm, still fluttered about, and drops of rain ran down from the saint's picture in the badly sheltered niche in the wall. Below rolled the sea, still wildly disturbed; the usually so quiet sapphire blue mirror was only a wild chaos of iron-grey currents and white foaming crests of waves, which broke hissing and surging on the shore. But the mist, which until now had enveloped the whole country in an impenetrable veil, commenced to melt at last, and land-marks came out distinctly already; only around the higher points did it still cling and hang, while in the west a clearer gleam of light began to struggle with the disappearing clouds.

"How did you recognise my little Reinhold?" asked Ella suddenly, in quite an altered tone. "You did not see him at your last visit, and when you left H---- he had barely passed his first year of life."

Hugo leant down to the child, and lifted up its little head.

"How I recognised him?" replied he smiling; "by his eyes. He has yours, Ella, and they are not so easily mistaken, even if they look out of another's face. I should know them amongst hundreds."

His tone had almost a passionate warmth. The young wife drew slightly aside.

"Since when have you begun to pay me compliments, Hugo?"

"Are compliments so unusual to you, Ella?"

"From your lips, certainly."

"Yes, certainly. I dare not venture upon what you allow to every one else," said Captain Almbach, with a slight accent of bitterness. "The attempt has once already obtained me the name of 'adventurer.'"

"It seems as if you could never forget that word," said Ella, half smiling.

He threw his head back defiantly. "No, I cannot, as it pained me, and therefore I cannot get over it, even until this moment."

"Pained you?" repeated Ella. "Can, indeed, anything pain you, Hugo?"

"That is to say, in other words--'have you then indeed a heart, Hugo?' Oh, no, I do not possess such an article at all; I came off badly at the distribution of the same; you must surely have discovered that."

"I do not mean that," interposed Ella, "I give you all credit for the warmest feelings."

"But no earnestness, no depth?"

"No."

Captain Almbach looked at her silently for a few seconds; at last he said softly--

"Was it necessary, Ella, to give me such a harsh lesson, because T ventured lately to kiss your hand, which perhaps displeased you? I know what this 'No' means. You see I understand hints, and shall take note of to-day's. You need not be afraid."

A slight blush passed over Ella's features, as she saw that he understood her. "I did not wish to wound you, indeed not," she answered, and put her hand out heartily, but Hugo stood obstinately averted, and appeared not to notice it.

"Are you angry with me?" she asked. It was a touchingly-beseeching tone, and it did not fail in its intention. Captain Almbach turned round suddenly, and caught her offered hand, but in his answer excitement and the old love of teasing struggled again, and were suppressed with difficulty, as he replied--

"If my late uncle and aunt could see us now, they would observe with intense satisfaction how their daughter holds the incorrigible Hugo by the head--he who will usually obey no other reins--how she will not permit him to go even one step beyond those limits which she finds it good to draw. No, I am not angry with you, Ella--cannot be so--only you must not make obedience too hard for me."

Both were still engaged in lively conversation, when Marchese Tortoni and Lord Elton also entered the verandah from the gallery.

"Look there," said the former, astonished, to his companion, "that is the reason why our Capitano's observations are so endlessly prolonged that we are obliged to look him up at last. It is indeed an extraordinary nature. An hour ago he forced our boat through storm and waves, and now he plays the agreeable to a young signora."

"Yes, an extraordinary man," agreed Lord Elton, who had taken such a blind fancy to Hugo, that he thought everything perfect in him.

The unbearable sultry air in the close rooms appeared to have driven the whole party out on to the verandah, as immediately after the two gentlemen Reinhold and Beatrice appeared also. If his wife were prepared for this encounter, he certainly was not, as he became pale as death, and made a movement as if to turn back; but at the same moment the boy's fair, curly head appeared from behind the young wife, and, as if transfixed, the father stood still. His glance directed openly to the child, he appeared to have forgotten all else around him.

"What a lovely child!" cried Beatrice, admiringly, as she stretched her arms out with perfect assurance; but now Ella started up! with a single movement she had withdrawn the boy from the intended caress, and pressed him firmly to herself.

"Excuse me, Signora," said she, coldly, "the child is shy with strangers, and not accustomed to such caresses."

Beatrice seemed somewhat offended at this repulse; however she saw nothing more in it than a mother's over-due anxiety. She shrugged her shoulders imperceptibly, and a scoffing side-glance fell upon the stranger, but it soon remained enchained by the latter's appearance, although recognition only took place on one side.

Before Ella's recollection, that evening stood forth in perfect distinctness when she, alone, without knowledge of her people, her veil drawn closely over her face, hastened to the theatre, in order to see the one who had so completely alienated her husband. She had seen Beatrice in all the brilliancy of her beauty and talent, intoxicated by the cheers and homage of the public, and she bore the impression ineffaceably away with her.

Beatrice, also, had only once seen Reinhold's wife, at the time when she first began to be interested in the young composer, and Ella did not then suspect anything of her evil influence. A short meeting of a few minutes sufficed for the Italian to perceive that this quiet, pale being, with downcast eyes, and that ridiculously matronly costume, could not possibly bind such a man to her, and this knowledge was extensive enough for her not to take any further notice of the young wife. At all events it was impossible for her to associate the colourless, half ridiculous, and half pitiful picture, which she carried in her recollection, in the remotest degree with this apparition, which stood so unapproachably proudly there, which held its fair head so high and erect, and whose large blue eyes looked at her with an expression which Beatrice was unable to explain to herself. She only saw that the stranger was very haughty, but also very beautiful.

The two gentlemen seemed to think the latter also, as they came nearer, bowing politely; Lord Elton gazed at Ella with open admiration, and the Marchese, whom Hugo had often reproached for blamable indifference to ladies' acquaintance, said with unusual eagerness to him--

"You appear to know the Signora. May we not also count upon the pleasure of being introduced to her?"

Captain Almbach, as if to protect her, had placed himself by the young wife's side. Between his eyebrows lay a frown which seldom appeared on his cheerful brow, and it became still deeper at this request, which could not possibly be refused. He therefore introduced the two gentlemen, and named his countrywoman to them as Frau Erlau. He knew that Ella, in order to anticipate unpleasant enquiries, to which the name of Almbach might easily give rise, bore that of her adopted father, so long as she remained in Italy.

Beatrice's eyes flashed with offended pride. She was not accustomed to herself and Reinhold being mentioned last in such cases, and here she was not even named at all. Captain Almbach ignored her altogether, and appeared actually to do so on purpose, as the angry look which she cast towards him was received with aggravating coldness; but even Cesario was struck by the want of tact that his usually charming friend displayed. While he uttered a few civilities to the strange lady, he waited in vain for the continuation of the presentation, and as this did not ensue, he undertook it, in order to atone for the Captain's supposed impoliteness.

"You have forgotten the most important part, Signor," said he, turning the affair quickly into a joke. "Signora Erlau would hardly be grateful to you were you not to mention the very two names which, doubtless, interest her most, and which are certainly not unknown to her. Signora Biancona--Signor Rinaldo."

Beatrice, still enraged at the insult offered to her, only vouchsafed a slight inclination of her head, which was similarly returned; but suddenly she became observant. She felt how Reinhold's arm quivered, how he let hers fall, and moved a step away from her as he bowed. She knew him too well not to perceive that at this moment, notwithstanding his apparent calm, he was terribly agitated. This intense pallor, this nervous quivering of his lips, were the sure sign that he was forcibly suppressing some passionate emotion. And what meant this glance, which certainly only met that of the stranger for a few seconds, but it flashed with unmistakable defiance, and melted again into perfect tenderness when it fell on the child at her side. She herself, indeed, stood quite impassive opposite him; not a feature moved in the countenance cold as marble. But this face was also remarkably pale, and her arms encircled her boy with convulsive firmness, as if he were to be torn away from them. Yet she replied in a perfectly controlled voice--

"I am much obliged to you, Signor. I had indeed not yet the pleasure of knowing Italy's principal singer and Italy's celebrated composer."

Reinhold's blood surged through his veins, as again, and this time before strangers, the endless breach was shown him which separated him from his former wife. Now it was she who assigned him the place which he had to occupy towards her; and that she could do it with such calm and ease roused him to the uttermost.

"Italy's?" replied he, with sharp accentuation. "You forget, Signora, that by birth I am a German."

"Really," replied Ella, in the same tone as before. "Indeed I did not know that until now."

"One seems to be soon forgotten in one's home," said Reinhold, with savage bitterness.

"But surely only when people estrange themselves. In this case it is quite comprehensible. You, Signor, have found a second fatherland, and he to whom Italy has given so much can easily forego home and its recollections."

She turned to the other gentlemen, exchanged a few passing indifferent words with them, and then gave her hand quietly and openly to Hugo in farewell.

"You will excuse me, I must go to my uncle. Reinhold bid Captain Almbach adieu."

It was only too true. Ella possessed a terrible weapon in the child, and understood how to use it mercilessly. Reinhold experienced it at this moment. To him she relentlessly denied the sight and presence of his boy, although she knew with what passion he longed for him; and now she let him see how this boy stretched out his little arms to his uncle, and offered his mouth for a kiss; let him see it in the presence of the woman for whom he had forsaken them both, and whose presence forbade him to insist upon any of his rights as a father--the revenge penetrated to the innermost depths of his heart.

Beatrice, quite contrary to her usual custom, had not taken part, even by a single syllable, in the conversation; but her darkly burning glance did not move from either of the two, between whom she suspected some secret connection, although her thoughts were immeasurably far from the truth itself. For the present, however, Ella now put an end to any further conversation. She took little Reinhold by the hand, and after a slight, haughty bow, which included the whole party, she left the verandah with the child.

"You appear to have introduced some incognita to us, Signor Capitano," said Beatrice, with cutting scorn. "Perhaps you will be so good as to explain to us exactly who the princess is who has just now condescended to leave us."

"Yes, by heaven, very proud, but also very beautiful!" cried the Marchese, his admiration breaking forth, while Hugo replied coolly--

"You are mistaken, Signora. I told you the name of the German lady."

The young Italian went up to his friend and laid his hand on the latter's shoulder.

"Signora's mistake is easily understood. Do not you think so also, Rinaldo?--Good God, what is the matter--what ails you?"

CHAPTER III.

"Nothing," said Reinhold, recovering himself with a great effort. "I am not well; the stormy voyage has upset me. It is nothing, Cesario."

"I believe the best we can do is to think of our return," interrupted Hugo, who deemed it necessary to distract attention from his brother, as he saw that the latter could no longer control his agitation. "A repetition of the storm need not be feared, and as the padrone has promised to procure us a carriage, we can reach S---- this evening if we start soon."

It was the first time that Beatrice cordially agreed to any proposition made by Captain Almbach. Marchese Tortoni, on the contrary, considered any great haste very unnecessary, and raised several objections. All at once the lonely locanda seemed to have gained remarkable attractions for him. But as he could not succeed in his wishes--for Reinhold also insisted upon an immediate return--he joined Captain Almbach, who went to see about the carriage.

"I fear you made up some tale for your brother and me, when you declared that a certain villa was inaccessible," said he, teasingly. "It was suspicious at the time when you confessed your failure so openly, and let our jokes fall so quietly upon you. I could swear that I had seen this charming figure and those glorious fair plaits once before, when I rode past the villa. I understand, of course, that you would not make us the confidants of your adventure, still----"

"You are mistaken," interrupted Hugo, with a decision which made it impossible to doubt his words. "There is no talk of an adventure here, Signor Marchese. I give you my word upon it."

"Ah, then pardon me," said Cesario, seriously; "I believe your apparently intimate acquaintance with the lady----"

"Arises from a former acquaintance in Germany," completed Captain Almbach. "I certainly had no suspicion of this meeting, when I believed I was seeking a perfect stranger in the Villa Fiorina; but I repeat it, that the word 'adventure' must not be connected in the remotest degree with that lady, and that I claim the most perfect and unqualified respect for her from all."

The very positive tone of this explanation might, perhaps, have irritated another listener, but the young Marchese, on the contrary, seemed to find unmistakable satisfaction in it.

"I do not in the least doubt that you are quite justified in your demand," replied he, very warmly. "The whole bearing of the beautiful lady answers for it. What imposing dignity, and what a perfectly charming appearance! I never saw any woman unite the two so thoroughly."

"Really?" Hugo's voice betrayed by no means pleasant surprise, as he looked at his companion, whose cheeks were deeply suffused with colour, and whose eyes sparkled. Captain Almbach did not utter another word, but his countenance told plainly enough what he thought. "I believe this ideal-man also begins to care about other things besides airs and recitatives--however, it is quite unnecessary."

Beatrice stood alone up in the verandah. She had not followed Reinhold and Lord Elton, who also descended. Her hand buried itself unconsciously in the wet vine-leaves, while her dark eyes were fixed steadily on the sea. Lost in gloomy meditation, she only clung to the one thought, which her lips now uttered, as half threateningly, half frightened, she whispered----"What was it between them?"

Autumn had come, and brought strangers and inhabitants back from the seaside and mountains to the large ever stirring and bustling central point of Italy. It was indeed not such an autumn as leads nature to its grave in the North, with gloomy, rainy days, raw stormy nights, rolling mists, hoar and night frosts. Here it lay mildly in golden clearness and indescribable beauty over the wide plains, from which at last the summer's heat had subsided; over the mountains, which, at other times were day after day enveloped in hot vapour, encircled with white clouds, now again showed their blue outlines undisguised; and over the town, where the great wave of life which for several moons had rolled slowly, now flowed forth with renewed power.

Signora Biancona had also returned. Her stay in S---- had been as unexpectedly and quickly terminated as was Reinhold's in Mirando. He seemed as if, all at once, he could not endure his usually favourite place any longer. Almost immediately after their stormy sea excursion, he insisted positively that the original plan should be adhered to, and the villegiatura in the mountains, long since decided upon, be carried out. The Marchese's objections, even his openly-displayed annoyance--having counted upon a lengthy visit from his guests--were in vain, as Beatrice also agreed somewhat eagerly to Reinhold's plan, and thus Cesario remained alone in Mirando, while the others went to the mountains, from which they had now just returned.

It was during the forenoon. Signora Biancona was sitting in her boudoir, her head resting on her arm, and her hand buried in her dark hair, in an attitude of eager attention. The conductor, Gianelli, had taken up his position opposite to her. Whatever his real feelings towards the envied Rinaldo might be, he was much too clever not to show outwardly all necessary respect and consideration to him, who, in the world of art, as in society, was all-powerful; and towards the beautiful prima donna he was now all attention and devotion, which he showed in voice and manner, as, continuing the conversation already begun, he said--

"You had commanded, Signora, and that was sufficient for me at once to set all machinery in motion. I am fortunate in being able to fulfil your wish, and impart the fullest information upon a certain subject."

Beatrice lifted up her head with liveliest eagerness. "Well?"

"This Signor Erlau is, as you supposed, a merchant from H----. He must, indeed, belong to the richest of his class, as everywhere he appears like a millionaire. He has rented the entire Villa Fiorina, near S----, for himself and his family, and here, also, he inhabits one of the most expensive houses. His household is arranged in great style; part of the servants brought from Germany. He bears important introductions to his embassy, of which, however, he has not made any use as yet, because his state of health necessitates retirement. His move here, in fact, was only made in order to put himself under the treatment of one of our most celebrated doctors----"

"I know all that already," interrupted Beatrice, impatiently. "When I heard the name, I did not doubt that it was the same Consul at whose house I visited during my stay in H----. But the lady who accompanies them--the young Signora?"

"Is his niece," explained Gianelli, who made an intentional pause after the first words.

The singer appeared to consider. "She certainly was presented to me as Signora Erlau. A relation, therefore. I did not see her in those days. I surely should have remarked her; one does not so easily over look such a figure."

The maestro smiled with a malicious expression. "She is said to bear the same name, certainly, as her adopted father; she is said to be a widow--said to have lost her husband many years since. At least, they wish such to be believed in Italy, and the servants have strict orders to answer all enquiries in this manner."

Beatrice listened attentively to this explanation with its double meaning, "'Said to be;' but is it not so? I suspected that some secret lay hidden there. You have discovered it?"

"Servants are never silent, if one understands to apply in the right manner," remarked Gianelli, scornfully. "I only fear it is an extremely delicate point, and as it concerns Signor Rinaldo----"

"Rinaldo!" exclaimed Beatrice, "how so? What has Rinaldo to do with it? Did you not say that it concerns Rinaldo?"

The maestro bent his head, and said in his softest tone, "I was then, indeed mistaken, Signora, when I premised that the cause of your wish to learn more particulars about the Erlau family originated with Signor Rinaldo."

The singer bit her lips. She certainly might have foreseen that the motive which dictated the commission she had given him could not escape the observing eyes of a Gianelli.

"Let us leave Rinaldo out of the question!" said she, with an effort to appear calm. "You were about to speak of Signora Erlau."

"It would be somewhat difficult to separate one from the other," suggested Gianelli. "I only fear Signor Rinaldo is unfortunately not favourably disposed towards me already, certainly from no fault of mine. I fear I might arouse his extreme ill-will if he discovered it was I who made such a communication, and especially to you"--he paused, and drew figures on the floor with his walking stick, in well-feigned confusion.

"To me, especially!" repeated Beatrice, violently, "then this communication is not intended for me? You must speak, Signor Gianelli! You shall not withhold one word, not one syllable either! I require, I demand it of you."

"Well then----" he seemed really about to come to the explanation, but the game was too interesting to give it up so soon, and the maestro himself had too often suffered from the temper of the beautiful prima donna to be able to deny himself the satisfaction of keeping her still longer on the rack of eagerness.

"Well then, you surely are aware of Signor Rinaldo's former bonds; but in, Italy few or none know that he was already married. I myself was only informed of it on this occasion. You, of course, were acquainted with the fact."

"I know it," replied Beatrice, suppressedly, "but how does that concern this?"

"Indeed it does to some extent. You do not know Rinaldo's wife, Signora?"

"No. Though yes; I saw her once momentarily. A very insignificant person."

"They do not seem to think so, here," remarked Gianelli, again in the same soft tone. "Notwithstanding her seclusion, the beautiful fair German begins to create a sensation."

"Who?" Beatrice rose so suddenly and wildly, that the maestro thought it wiser to retire a few steps. "Of whom are you speaking?"

"Of Signora Eleonore Almbach, who certainly bears her adopted father's name here, probably to avoid inquisitive inquiries."

"That is impossible," exclaimed the singer, now with extreme violence. "That cannot be. You deceive me, or have been yourself deceived."

"Excuse me," said Gianelli, defending himself, "my source is the most authentic. I will answer for its correctness, and Signor Rinaldo will be obliged to confirm it."

"Impossible!" repeated Beatrice, still quite without her self-possession. "This apparition his wife! I saw her formerly, of course, although only for a few minutes. Was I then blind?"

"Or was he so?" completed Gianelli to himself; but he said aloud, "I am inconsolable to have excited you so, Signora; you will give me credit for not wishing to speak, but you regularly forced this information from me. I regret this exceedingly."

His words restored Beatrice somewhat to consciousness. She felt what she had to expect from the pity of the man who had played the spy on her behalf.

"Certainly not!" replied she in a hasty but vain attempt to recover her self-control. "I--I thank you, Signor. I am merely surprised, nothing more."

The maestro saw that he could not do better than retire, but as he prepared to leave, he laid his hand assuringly upon his heart--

"You know, Signora, that I am quite at your commands, and if you deem it necessary to insist upon my unconditional silence in this affair, no assurance is needed that this also is at your service. Quite at your commands."

He left the room with a low bow; he was in earnest with the last words. Gianelli was too good a reckoner not to consider as a valuable secret, something which sooner or later might be employed against the hated Rinaldo. If he were to make the piquant story public in society, nothing more could be done with it; in his sole possession, on the contrary, it might be very useful. At present it ensured him influence over Beatrice, and, indirectly, even over Rinaldo, to whom it could, at the very least, not be agreeable that his family affairs should become generally known.

In the best of humours the maestro passed through the saloon, and entered the antechamber, where at that moment the sailor Jonas was alone. Captain Almbach had sent him to his brother with some message; he supposed the latter to be with Signora Biancona. Reinhold, however, was at the manager's, but was expected every moment. Jonas learned this from some servant who had gone into Beatrice's service from that of the same manager who had taken the Italian Opera Company to Germany, and as a trophy of his northern journey was able to maltreat a few words of German. As the sailor had received orders to give his master's note to the latter's brother himself, nothing else remained for him than to wait; he therefore took up his position in the ante-room, through which Reinhold was sure to pass. He had certainly remarked that the door of one of the back rooms stood open, and that some one was in there, apparently one of the Signora's lady's maids, who was occupied with a dress of her mistress. However, as this somebody was a woman, she naturally did not exist for Jonas, who, dissatisfied and silent as usual, withdrew into one of the window recesses, and remained there above a quarter of an hour without taking the slightest notice of his neighbour.

Signor Gianelli, as regards women, seemed to entertain the most opposite views; he had barely discovered the open door and the young girl, before he immediately altered his course, and steered in that direction. Jonas naturally did not understand any of the conversation, conducted in Italian, which now took place between the two, but so much was clear to him, that the maestro endeavoured to play the agreeable, apparently without particular success, as he only received short, and rather defiant-sounding replies, and at the same time the heavy silken folds were so adroitly draped that he could not come nearer without crumpling the light satin. This lasted a few minutes, then Signor Gianelli appeared to try and make some serious attempt, as a cry of annoyance was heard, followed by the angry stamping of a little foot. The dress flew aside, and the young girl fled into the ante-room, where she stood still with arms folded defiantly and eyes sparkling with rage. But the maestro had followed her, and without being intimidated in the least by the opposition, gave signs of trying to enforce the kiss which evidently had been refused him before, when he stumbled upon a most unexpected obstacle. A powerful hand caught him suddenly by the collar, and a strange voice said impressively--