CHAPTER III.
EXPLANATORY

President Nordheim belonged to the class of men who owe their success to themselves. The son of a petty official, with no means of his own, he had educated himself as an engineer, and had lived in very narrow circumstances until he suddenly appeared before the public with a technical invention which attracted the attention of the entire profession. The first mountain-railway had just been projected, and the young, obscure engineer had devised a locomotive which could drag the trains up the heights. The invention was as clever as it was practical; it instantly distanced all competing devices, and was adopted by the company, which finally purchased the patent from the inventor at a price which then seemed a fortune to him, and which certainly laid the foundation of his future wealth, for he took rank immediately among men of enterprise.

Contrary to expectation, however, Nordheim did not pursue the path in which he had made so brilliant a début; strangely enough, he seemed to lose interest in it, and adopted another, although kindred, career. He undertook the formation and the financial conduct of a large building association, of which in a few years he made an enormous success, meanwhile increasing his own property tenfold.

Other projects were the consequence of this first undertaking, and with the increase of his means the magnitude of his schemes increased, and it became clear that this was the field for the exercise of his talents. He was not a man to ponder and pore for years over technical details,–he needed to plunge into the life of the age, to venture and contrive, making all possible interests subservient to his success, and developing in all directions his great talent for organization.

In his restless activity he never failed to select the right man for the right place; he overcame all obstacles, sought and found sources of help everywhere, and fortune stood his energy in stead. The enterprises of which Nordheim was the head were sure to succeed, and while he himself became a millionaire, his influence in all circles with which he had any connection was incalculable.

The president's wife had died a few years since,–a loss which was not especially felt by him, for his marriage had not been a very happy one. He had married when he was a simple engineer, and his quiet, unpretending wife had not known how to accommodate herself to his growing fortunes and to play the part of grande dame to her husband's satisfaction. Then too the son which she bore him, and whom he had hoped to make the heir of his schemes, died when an infant. Alice was born some years afterwards, a delicate, sickly child, for whose life the greatest anxiety was always felt, and whose phlegmatic temperament was antagonistic to the vivid energy of her father's nature. She was his only daughter, his future heiress, and as such he surrounded her with every luxury that wealth could procure, but she made no part of his life, and he was glad to intrust her education and herself to the Baroness Lasberg.

Nordheim's only sister, who had lived beneath his roof, had bestowed her hand upon the Freiherr von Thurgau, then a captain in the army. Her brother, who had just achieved his first successes, would have preferred another suitor to the last scion of an impoverished noble family, who possessed nothing save his sword and a small estate high up among the mountains, but, since the couple loved each other tenderly and there was no objection to be made to Thurgau personally, the brother's consent was not withheld.

The young people lived very modestly, but in the enjoyment of a domestic happiness quite lacking in Nordheim's wealthy household, and their only child, the little Erna, grew up in the broad sunshine of love and content. Unfortunately, Thurgau lost his wife after six years of married life, and, sensitive as he was, the unexpected blow so crushed him that he determined to leave the army, and to retire from the world entirely. Nordheim, whose restless ambition could not comprehend such a resolve, combated it most earnestly, but in vain; his brother-in-law resisted him with all the obstinacy of his nature. He quitted the service in which he had attained the rank of major, and retired with his daughter to Wolkenstein Court, the modest income from which, joined to his pension, sufficing for his simple needs.

Since then there had been a certain amount of estrangement between the brothers-in-law; the mediating influence of the wife and sister was lacking, and in addition their homes were very wide apart. They saw each other rarely, and letters were interchanged still more rarely until the construction of the mountain-railway and the necessity for purchasing Thurgau's estate brought about a meeting.

CHAPTER IV.
THE LAST THURGAU

About a week had passed since the visit to Heilborn, when Dr. Reinsfeld again took his way to Wolkenstein Court, but on this occasion he was not alone, for beside him walked Superintendent Elmhorst.

"I never should have dreamed, Wolfgang, that fate would bring us together again here," said the young physician, gaily. "When we parted two years ago, you jeered at me for going into 'the wilderness,' as you were pleased to express yourself, and now you have sought it yourself."

"To bring cultivation to this wilderness," Wolfgang continued the sentence. "You indeed seem very comfortable here; you have fairly taken root in the miserable mountain-village where I discovered you, Benno; I am working here for my future."

"I should think you might be contented with your present." Benno observed. "A superintendent-engineer at twenty-seven,–it would be hard to surpass that. Between ourselves, your comrades are furious at your appointment. Take care, Wolf, or you will find yourself in a wasps'-nest."

"Do you imagine I fear to be stung? I know all you say is true, and I have already given the gentlemen to understand that I am not inclined to tolerate obstacles thrown in my way, and that they must pay me the respect due to a superior. If they want war, they shall have it!"

"Yes, you were always pugnacious; I never could endure to be perpetually upon a war-footing with those about me."

"I know it; you are the same peace-loving old Benno that you always were, who never could say a cross word to anyone, and who consequently was maltreated by his beloved fellow-beings whenever an opportunity offered. How often have I told you that you never could get on in the world so! and to get on in the world is what we all desire."

"You certainly are striding on in seven-league boots," said Reinsfeld, dryly. "You are the acknowledged favourite, they say, of the omnipotent President Nordheim. I saw him again lately at Wolkenstein Court."

"Saw him again? Did you know him before?"

"Certainly, in my boyhood. He and my father were friends and fellow-students; Nordheim used to come to our house daily; I have sat upon his knee often enough when he spent the evening with us."

"Indeed? Well, I hope you reminded him of it when you met him."

"No; Baron Thurgau did not mention my name–"

"And of course you did not do so either," said Wolfgang, laughing. "Just like you! Chance brings you into contact with an influential man whose mere word would procure you an advantageous position, and you never even tell him your name! I shall repair your omission; the first time I see the president I shall tell him–"

"Pray do no such thing. Wolf," Benno interrupted him. "You had better say nothing about it."

"And why not?"

"Because–the man has risen to such a height in life that he might not like to be reminded of the time when he was a simple engineer."

"You do him injustice. He is proud of his humble origin, as all clever men are, and he could not fail to be pleased to be reminded of an early friend."

Reinsfeld gently shook his head. "I am afraid the memory would be a painful one. Something happened later,–I never knew what,–I was a boy at the time; but I know that the breach was complete. Nordheim never came again to our house, and my father avoided even the mention of his name; they were entirely estranged."

"Then of course you could not reckon upon his favour," said Elmhorst, in a disappointed tone. "The president seems to me to be one who never forgives a supposed offence."

"Yes, they say he has grown extremely haughty and domineering. I wonder that you can get along with him. You are not a man to cringe."

"That is precisely why he likes me. I leave cringing and fawning to servile souls who may perhaps thus procure some subordinate position. Whoever wishes really to rise must hold his head erect and keep his eyes fixed upon the goal above him, or he will continue to crawl on the ground."

"I suppose your goal is a couple of millions," Benno said, ironically. "You never were very modest in your plans for the future. What do you wish to be? The president of your company?"

"Perhaps so at some future time; for the present only his son-in-law."

"I thought there was something of the kind in your mind!" exclaimed Benno, bursting into a laugh. "Of course you are sure to be right, Wolf; but why not rather pluck down yonder sun from the sky? It would be quite as easy."

"Do you fancy I am in jest?" asked Wolfgang, coolly.

"Yes, I do take that liberty, for you cannot be serious in aspiring to the daughter of a man whose wealth and consequence are almost proverbial. Nordheim's heiress may choose among any number of Freiherrs and Counts, if indeed she does not prefer a millionaire."

"Then all the Freiherrs and Counts must be outdone," said the young engineer, calmly, "and that is what I propose to do."

Dr. Reinsfeld suddenly paused and looked at his friend with some anxiety; he even made a slight movement as if to feel his pulse.

"Then you are either a little off your head or in love," he remarked, with decision. "For a lover nothing is impossible, and this visit to Heilborn seems to be fraught with destiny for you. My poor boy, this is very sad."

"In love?" Wolfgang repeated, a smile of ineffable contempt curling his lip. "No, Benno, you know I never have either time or inclination to think of love, and now less than ever. But do not look so shocked, as if I were talking high treason. I give you my word that Alice Nordheim, if she marries me, shall never repent it. She shall have the most attentive and considerate of husbands."

"Indeed you must forgive me for finding all this calculation most sordid," the young physician burst forth indignantly. "You are young and gifted; you have attained a position for which hundreds would envy you, and which relieves you from all care; the future lies open before you, and all you think of is the pursuit of a wealthy wife. For shame, Wolfgang!"

"My dear Benno, you do not understand," Wolfgang declared, enduring his friend's reproof with great serenity. "You idealists never comprehend that we must take into account human nature and the world. You will, of course, marry for love, spend your life slaving laboriously in some obscure country town to procure bread for your wife and children, and at last sink noiselessly into the grave with the edifying consciousness that you have been true to your ideal. I am of another stripe,–I demand of life everything or nothing."

"Well, then, in heaven's name win it by your own exertions!" exclaimed Benno, growing every moment more and more indignant. "Your grand model, President Nordheim, did it."

"He certainly did, but it took him more than twenty years. We are now slowly and laboriously plodding up this mountain-road in the sweat of our brows. Look at that winged fellow there!" He pointed to a huge bird of prey circling above the abyss. "His wings will carry him in a few minutes to the summit of the Wolkenstein. Yes, it must be fine to stand up there and see the whole world at his feet, and to be near the sun. I do not choose to wait for it until I am old and gray. I wish to mount now and, rely upon it, I shall dare the flight sooner or later."

He drew himself up to his full height; his dark eyes flashed, his fine features were instinct with energy and ambition. The man impressed you as capable of venturing a flight of which others would not even dream.

There was a sudden rustling among the larches on the side of the road, and Griff came bounding down from above, and leaped about the young physician in expectation of the wonted caress. His mistress also appeared on the height, following the course which the dog had taken, springing down over stones and roots of trees, directly through the underbrush, until at last, with glowing cheeks, she reached the road.

Frau von Lasberg would certainly have found some satisfaction in the manner in which the greeting of the Herr Superintendent was returned, with all the cool dignity becoming a Baroness Thurgau, while a contemptuous glance was cast at the elegance of the young man's costume.

Elmhorst wore to-day an easy, loose suit bearing some similitude to the dress of a mountaineer, and very like that of his friend, but it became him admirably; he looked like some distinguished tourist making an expedition with his guide. Dr. Reinsfeld with his negligent carriage certainly showed to disadvantage beside that tall, slender figure; his gray jacket and his hat were decidedly weather-worn, but that evidently gave him no concern. His eyes sparkled with pleasure at sight of the young girl, who greeted him with her wonted cordial familiarity.

"You are coming to us, Herr Doctor, are you not?" she asked.

"Of course, Fräulein Erna; are you all well?"

"Papa was not well this morning, but he has nevertheless gone shooting. I have been to meet him with Griff, but we could not find him; he must have taken another way home."

She joined the two gentlemen, who now left the mountain-road and took the somewhat steep path leading to Wolkenstein Court. Griff seemed scarcely reconciled to the presence of the young engineer: he greeted him with a growl and showed his teeth.

"What is the matter with Griff?" Reinsfeld asked. "He is usually kindly and good-humoured with everybody."

"He does not seem to include me in his universal philanthropy," said Elmhorst, with a shrug. "He has made me several such declarations of war, and his good humour cannot always be depended upon; bestirred up a terrible uproar in Heilborn, in the Herr President's drawing-room, where Fräulein von Thurgau achieved a deed of positive heroism in comforting a little child whom the dog had nearly frightened to death."

"And, meanwhile, Herr Elmhorst applied himself to the succour of the fainting ladies," Erna said, ironically. "Upon my return to the drawing-room I observed his courteous attentions to both Alice and Frau von Lasberg,–how impartially he deluged both with cologne. Oh, it was diverting in the extreme!"

She laughed merrily. For an instant Elmhorst compressed his lips with an angry glance at the girl, but the next he rejoined politely: "You took such instant possession of the heroic part in the drama, Fräulein von Thurgau, that nothing was left for me but my insignificant rôle. You cannot accuse me of timidity after meeting me upon the Wolkenstein, although in my entire ignorance of the locality I did not reach the summit."

"And you never will reach it," Reinsfeld interposed. "The summit is inaccessible; even the boldest mountaineers are checked by those perpendicular walls, and more than one foolhardy climber has forfeited his life in the attempt to ascend them."

"Does the mountain-sprite guard her throne so jealously?" Elmhorst asked, laughing. "She seems to be a most energetic lady, tossing about avalanches as if they were snowballs, and requiring as many human sacrifices yearly as any heathen goddess."

He looked up to the Wolkenstein,¹ which justified its title: while all the other mountain-summits were defined clearly against the sky, its top was hidden in white mists.

"You ought not to jest about it, Wolfgang," said the young physician, with some irritation. "You have never yet spent an autumn and winter here, and you do not know her, our wild mountain-sprite, the fearful elemental force of the Alps, which only too frequently menaces the lives and the dwellings of the poor mountaineers. She is feared, not without reason, here in her realm; but you seem to have become quite familiar with the legend."

"Fräulein von Thurgau had the kindness to make me acquainted with the stern dame," said Wolfgang. "She did indeed receive us very ungraciously on the threshold of her palace, with a furious storm, and I was not allowed the privilege of a personal introduction."

"Take care,–you might have to pay dearly for the favour!" exclaimed Erna, irritated by his sarcasm. Elmhorst's mocking smile was certainly provoking.