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 i
 
 fiNIV. OF CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGELES
 
 "My son'. My only child! Do you not know your mother?" Hartmut 
 retreated, startled. " My mother is dead," he said in a low toue. Page 26. 
 
 The Sign of Flame.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME 
 
 FROM THE GERMAN OF E.^VERNER 
 
 r 
 
 \x?Ttv 7> 
 
 TRANSLATED BY 
 
 EVA FREEMAN HART AND E. VAN GERPEN 
 
 " Give me a nook and a book, 
 And let the proud world spin round." 
 
 A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, 
 52-58 DUANE STREET, NEW YORK **
 
 Copyright, 1902. BY A. L. BURT COMPANY. 
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 Translated by EVA FREEMAN HART and E. VAN GERPEN.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THROUGH the gray fog of an autumn morning a 
 flock of birds took flight ; sweeping now, as if in fare- 
 well, close to the firs, so recently their home rising 
 now to a goodly height, directing their flight toward 
 the south, and disappearing slowly in the veiled 
 distance. 
 
 The gloomy eyes of a man standing at a window 
 of the large castle-like mansion situated at the edge 
 of the forest, followed this flight. 
 
 He was of tall stature and powerful in physique; 
 the erect bearing would have betrayed the soldier 
 even without the uniform which he wore : his fea- 
 tures not handsome but strong ; hair light, and eyes 
 blue; in short, a typical German in appearance; but 
 something like a shadow rested on those features, 
 and the high brow bore deeper furrows than the 
 years seemed to warrant. 
 
 "There, the birds are already leaving," he said, 
 pointing to the flock which fluttered in the distance 
 until lost entirely in the mass of fog. The autumn 
 is here in nature and also in our lives." 
 
 "Not yet in yours," interrupted his companion. 
 "You are standing in full strength at the height of 
 your life," 
 
 3 
 
 A 
 

 
 4 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Perhaps so considering years ; but I feel as if old 
 age would approach me sooner than any one else. 
 I feel much like the autumn of the year." 
 
 The other gentleman, who was in civilian dress, 
 was probably older than his companion. His stat- 
 ure was of medium height and frail. At first sight 
 he appeared almost insignificant beside the powerful 
 form of the officer, but the pale, sharply outlined face 
 bore an expression of cold, superior calm; and the 
 sarcastic line around the thin lips proved that behind 
 the cold composure expressed in his whole manner 
 something deeper lay concealed. 
 
 He now shook his head with displeasure. 
 
 "You take life too hard, Falkenried," he said re- 
 proachfully ; "you have changed remarkably in these 
 last years. He who has seen you as a young officer, 
 merry as the day, would not recognize you now. 
 And why all this ? The shadow which once clouded 
 your life has long ago vanished ; you are heart and 
 soul a soldier; you receive distinction at every oppor- 
 tunity; an important position is assured you in the 
 near future; and, what is best you have kept your 
 son." 
 
 Falkenried did not reply; he folded his arms and 
 again looked out into the gray distance. The other 
 continued : 
 
 "The boy has grown as handsome as a picture in 
 these last few years. I was quite surprised when I 
 saw him, and even you confess that he is extraor- 
 dinarily gifted, and, moreover, in several respects is 
 endowed with absolute genius." 
 
 "I wish Hartmut were less gifted and had more 
 character instead," Falkenried said in almost harsh 
 tones. "He can make poetry and learn languages 
 as if it were play, but as soon as he begins earnest
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 5 
 
 study he remains far behind the others ; while as to 
 military strategy, nothing whatever can be done with 
 him. You have no idea, Wallmoden, what iron 
 severity I have to bring to bear on that." 
 
 "I only fear that you do not accomplish much 
 with this severity," interrupted Wallmoden. "You 
 should have followed my advice and sent your son 
 to the University. That he is not cut out for a sol- 
 dier you ought now finally to see." 
 
 "He must and shall be fit for it; it is the only 
 thing possible for his unruly disposition, which 
 chafes under every curb and feels every duty a bur- 
 den. The University the life of a student would 
 give him fullest liberty. Nothing but the iron dis- 
 cipline to which he has to bow keeps him in check." 
 
 "Yes, for a while; but can it force him in the fu- 
 ture? You should not deceive yourself. His are, 
 unfortunately, inherited faults, which may possibly 
 be suppressed, but never uprooted. Hartmut is in 
 appearance the image of his mother ; he has her fea- 
 tures her eyes." 
 
 "Yes, I know," Falkenried said, gloomily, "her 
 dark, demoniacal, glowing eyes, which knew how to 
 charm everything " 
 
 "And which became your ruin," completed Wall- 
 moden. "How did I not warn and implore against 
 them, but you would not listen to anything. Pas- 
 sion had taken hold of you like a fever and held you 
 in bonds altogether. I have never been able to 
 understand it." 
 
 A bitter smile flitted around Falkenried's mouth. 
 
 "I believe that. You, the cool, calculating dip- 
 lomat who carefully measure every step, are safe 
 from such charms." 
 
 "I should at least be more careful in my choice.
 
 6 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Your marriage brought misfortune with it from the 
 beginning. A wife of foreign race and blood of 
 wild Slavian nature, without character, without any 
 understanding for that which is custom and duty to 
 us, and you with your strict principles your irri- 
 table sense of honor it had finally to come to such 
 an end. And I believe you loved her up to the sep- 
 aration in spite of everything!" 
 
 "No," said Falkenried harshly. "The illusion 
 vanished in the first year. I saw only too clearly 
 but I shuddered at the idea of laying my domestic 
 miseries open to the world by a divorce. I bore it 
 until no choice was left me until I finally but 
 enough of it !" 
 
 He turned quickly, and again looked out of the 
 window. There was suppressed torture in the sud- 
 den breaking off. 
 
 "Yes, it needed much to tear a nature like yours 
 from the roots," Wallmoden said seriously; "but 
 nevertheless the separation left you free from the 
 unfortunate claim, and with that you should have 
 also buried the reminiscences." 
 
 "One cannot bury such reminiscences ; they always 
 rise up again from the supposed grave, and just 
 now " Falkenried broke off suddenly. 
 
 "Just now what do you mean?" 
 
 "Nothing ; let us speak of other things. You have 
 been at Burgsdorf since the day before yesterday. 
 How long do you intend to stay?" 
 
 "Perhaps two weeks. I have not much time at my 
 disposal, and am Willibald's guardian really only 
 in name, since the diplomatic service keeps me 
 mostly in foreign countries. In fact, the guardian- 
 ship rests in the hands of my sister, who rules every- 
 thing, anyhow."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. ? 
 
 "Yes, Regine is well up to her position," assented 
 Falkenried. "She rules the large estates and nu- 
 merous people like a man." 
 
 "And issues commands from morning to night 
 like a sergeant," completed Wallmoden. "With all 
 due appreciation for her excellent qualities, I always 
 feel a slight rising of the hair at the prospect of a 
 visit to Burgsdorf, and I return from there regularly 
 with shattered nerves. Real primitive conditions 
 rule in that place. Willibald is actually a young 
 bear, but the ideal of his mother for all that. She 
 does her best to raise him an ignorant young country 
 squire. All interposition is of no use, for he has 
 every inclination for it, anyway." 
 
 The entrance of a servant interrupted them. He 
 handed a card to Falkenried, which the latter glanced 
 at hastily. 
 
 "Herr Egern, Solicitor. Very well, show the gen- 
 tleman in." 
 
 "Have you a business engagement?" asked Wall- 
 moden, rising. "I will not disturb you." 
 
 "On the contrary, I beg you to remain. I have 
 been advised of this visit, and know what will be 
 discussed. It concerns " 
 
 He did not conclude, for the door opened and the 
 one announced entered. 
 
 He seemed surprised not to find the officer alone, 
 as he had expected, but the latter took no notice of 
 the surprise. 
 
 "Herr Egern, Solicitor Herr von Wallmoden, 
 Secretary of the Ambassador." 
 
 The barrister bowed with cool courtesy, and ac- 
 cepted the offered chair. 
 
 "I probably have the honor of being familiar to 
 you, Herr Major," he began. "As counsel for your
 
 8 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 wife, I had occasional cause to meet you personally 
 in that suit for divorce." 
 
 He stopped, and seemed to expect an answer, but 
 Major Falkenried only bowed in mute assent. Wall- 
 moden now began to be attentive. He could now 
 understand the strangely irritable mood in which he 
 had found his friend upon his arrival. 
 
 "I come to-day also in the name of my former 
 client," continued the lawyer. "She has asked me 
 may I speak freely?" 
 
 He cast a glance at the Secretary, but Falkenried 
 said shortly : 
 
 "Herr von Wallmoden is my friend, and as such 
 is familiar with the case. I beg you to speak with- 
 out restraint." 
 
 "Very well, then the lady has returned to Ger- 
 many after long years of absence, and naturally 
 wishes to see her son. She has already written to 
 you on that behalf, but has not received an answer." 
 
 "I should consider that a sufficient answer. I do 
 not desire this meeting, and therefore shall not per- 
 mit it." 
 
 "That sounds very harsh, Herr Major. Frau von 
 Falkenried has surely " 
 
 "Frau Zalika Rojanow, you mean to say," inter- 
 rupted the Major. "She resumed her maiden name, 
 so far as I know, when she returned to her 
 country." 
 
 "The name is of no consequence," replied the law- 
 yer calmly. "The sole consideration here is the per- 
 fectly justifiable wish of a mother, which the father 
 cannot and must not deny, even when, as in this 
 case, the son is given to him unconditionally." 
 
 "Must not ! And if he should do it, notwithstand- 
 ing?"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 9 
 
 "Then he oversteps the borders of his rights. I 
 would like to ask you, Herr Major, to consider the 
 matter calmly before speaking such a decided 'No.' 
 The rights of a mother cannot be so completely can- 
 celled by a decision of the court that one may even 
 deny her a meeting with her only child. The law is 
 upon the side of my client in this case, and she will 
 enforce it, if my personal appeal is ignored as was 
 her written request." 
 
 ''She may try it then. I will let it come to the 
 test. My son does not know that his mother is 
 alive, and shall not learn it just yet. I do not wish 
 that he should see and speak to her, and I shall 
 know how to prevent it. My 'No' remains un- 
 changed." 
 
 These remarks were given quietly, but upon Falk- 
 enried's features there lay an ashy paleness, and his 
 voice sounded hollow and threatening. The awful 
 excitement under which he labored was apparent; 
 only with supreme effort could he force himself to 
 outward calm. The lawyer seemed to understand 
 the fruitlessness of further effort. He only shrugged 
 his shoulders. 
 
 "If this be your final decision, then my errand is, 
 of course, finished, and we must decide later upon 
 further moves. I am sorry to have disturbed you, 
 Herr Major." 
 
 He took his leave with the same cool politeness 
 with which he had entered. ' . 
 
 Falkenried sprang up and paced the room stormily 
 after the door had closed upon the lawyer. A de- 
 pressing silence reigned for a few moments, after 
 which Wallmoden spoke half audibly. 
 
 "You ought not to have done that. Zalika will 
 hardly submit to your 'No.' If you remember, she
 
 10 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 carried on a life-and-death struggle for her child at 
 that time." 
 
 "But I remained victor. I hope she has not for- 
 gotten that." 
 
 "At that time it concerned the possession of the 
 boy," interrupted the friend. "The mother now only 
 requests to see him again, and you will not be able 
 to deny her that when she demands it with de- 
 cision." 
 
 The Major came to a sudden standstill, but there 
 was a scarcely veiled contempt in his voice as he 
 said: 
 
 "She dares not do that after all that happened. 
 Zalika learned to know me in our parting hour. She 
 will take care not to force me to extremes a second 
 time." 
 
 "But she will perhaps try to obtain secretly what 
 you refuse her openly." 
 
 "That will be impossible; the discipline of our 
 school is too strict. No relations could be started 
 there of which I would not be notified immediately." 
 
 Wallmoden did not seem to share this confidence ; 
 he shook his head doubtingly. 
 
 "I confess that I consider your keeping, with such 
 persistence, the knowledge of his mother's existence 
 from your son a mistake. If he should hear it now 
 from another source what then? And you will 
 have to tell him finally." 
 
 "Perhaps after two years, when he enters life in- 
 dependently. He is still but a scholar a mere boy. 
 I cannot yet draw the veil from the tragedy which 
 was once enacted in the home of his parents I can- 
 not." 
 
 "Then at least be upon your guard. You know 
 your former wife know what can be expected from
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 11 
 
 her. I fear there are no impossibilities for that 
 woman." 
 
 "Yes, I know her," said Falkenried with boundless 
 bitterness, "and just for that reason I will protect my 
 son from her at any cost. He shall not breathe the 
 poison of her presence for even an hour. Rest as- 
 sured, I do not underrate the danger of Zalika's re- 
 turn, but as long as Hartmut remains at my side he 
 will be safe from her, for she will not approach me 
 again. I pledge you my word for that." 
 
 "We will hope so," returned Wallmoden, rising 
 and giving his hand, "but do not forget that the 
 greatest danger lies in Hartmut himself. He is in 
 every respect the son of his mother. I hear you 
 will come with him to Burgsdorf the day after to- 
 morrow?" 
 
 ''Yes; he always spends the short autumn vaca- 
 tion with Willibald. I myself can probably stay 
 only for the day, but I shall surely come with him. 
 Au revoir !" 
 
 The Ambassador's Secretary departed, and Falk- 
 enried again approached the window, glancing only 
 hastily after the friend, who bowed once more. His 
 glance was again lost with the former gloom, in the 
 gray masses of fog. 
 
 "The son of his mother!" 
 
 The words rang in his ears, but there was no need 
 for another to tell him that. He had long known it, 
 and it was this knowledge that furrowed his brow 
 so deeply and caused those heavy sighs. 
 
 He was a man to offer himself to every open dan- 
 ger, but he had struggled in vain, with all his energy 
 for years, against this unfortunate inheritance of the 
 blood in his only son. 

 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 "Now I request that this utter foolishness shall 
 end, for my patience is exhausted. There has been 
 an awful turmoil in all Burgsdorf for three days, as 
 if the place were conjured. Hartmut is full of fool- 
 ishness from head to toe. When once he gets free 
 from the rein which his father draws so tight there is 
 no getting on with him. And you, of course, go 
 with him through thick and thin, following obedi- 
 ently everything that your lord and master starts. 
 You are a fine team !" 
 
 This lecture, delivered in very loud tones, came 
 from the lips of Frau von Eschenhagen of Burgs- 
 dorf, who sat at breakfast with her son and brother. 
 
 The large dining-room was in the lower story of 
 the old mansion, and was a rather bare room, the 
 glass doors of which led to a broad terrace, and from 
 there into the garden. Some antlers hung upon the 
 whitewashed walls, giving evidence of the Nimrod 
 proclivities of former owners. They were also the 
 only ornament of the room. 
 
 A dozen straightback chairs standing in stiff rows 
 like grenadiers, a heavy dining table, and two old- 
 fashioned sideboards constituted all of the furniture, 
 which, as one could see, had already served several 
 generations. 
 
 Articles of luxury, such as carpets, wallpaper or 
 paintings, were not there. The inmates were appar- 
 ently satisfied with the old, inherited things, al- 
 
 12
 
 THE SIGH OF FLAME. 13 
 
 though Burgsdorf was one of the richest estates in 
 the vicinity. 
 
 The appearance of the lady of the house corre- 
 sponded fully with the surroundings. She was 
 about forty years old ; of tall, powerful figure, bloom- 
 ing complexion, and strong, heavy features, which 
 were very energetic, but which could never have been 
 beautiful. Nothing escaped easily the glance of 
 those sharp, gray eyes; the dark hair was combed 
 back plainly; the dress was simple and serviceable, 
 and one could see that her hands knew how to 
 work. 
 
 This robust person lacked gracefulness, certainly, 
 but possessed something decidedly masculine in car- 
 riage and appearance. 
 
 The heir and future lord of Burgsdorf, who was 
 scolded in this way, sat opposite his mother, listen- 
 ing, as in duty bound, while he helped himself boun- 
 tifully to ham and eggs. He was a handsome, 
 ruddy- faced boy of about seventeen years, with fea- 
 tures which might portray great good nature, but no 
 surplus of intellect. His sunburned face was full of 
 glowing health, but otherwise bore little resemblance 
 to his mother's. It lacked her energetic expression. 
 The blue eyes and light hair must have been an in- 
 heritance from the father. With his powerful but 
 awkward limbs he looked like a young giant, and 
 offered the completest contrast to his Uncle Wall- 
 moden, who sat at his side, and who now said with 
 a tinge of sarcasm : 
 
 "You really ought not to make Willibald respon- 
 sible for the pranks and tricks. He is certainly the 
 ideal of a well-raised son." 
 
 "I should advise him not to be anything else. 
 Obeying of orders is what I insist upon," exclaimed 

 
 U THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen, slapping the table with such 
 force as to cause her brother to start nervously. 
 
 "Yes, one learns that under your regime," he re- 
 plied, "but I would like to advise you, dear Regine, 
 to do a little more for the mental training of your 
 son. I do not doubt that he will grow up a splendid 
 farmer under your leadership, but something more 
 is required in the education of a future lord, and as 
 Willibald has outgrown tutors, it may be time to 
 send him off." 
 
 "Send him " Frau Regine laid down knife 
 
 and fork in boundless amazement. "Send him off!" 
 she repeated indignantly. "In gracious name, where 
 to?" 
 
 "Well, to the University, and later on let him 
 travel, that he may see something of the world and 
 its people." 
 
 "And that he may be totally ruined in this world 
 and among these people ! No, Herbert, that will not 
 do. I tell you right now. I have raised my boy in 
 honesty and the fear of God, and have no idea of 
 letting him go into that Sodom and Gomorrah from 
 which our dear Lord keeps the rain of fire and brim- 
 stone by His long-suffering alone." 
 
 "But you know this Sodom and Gomorrah only by 
 hearsay, Regine," interrupted Herbert sarcastically. 
 "You have lived in Burgsdorf ever since your mar- 
 riage, but your son must one day enter life as a man 
 you must acknowledge that." 
 
 "I do not acknowledge anything," declared Frau 
 von Eschenhagen stubbornly. "Willy shall be a 
 thoroughly capable farmer. He is fitted for that 
 and does not need your learned trash for it. Or do 
 you, perhaps, wish to take him in training for a dip- 
 lomat. That would be capital fun !"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 15 
 
 She laughed loudly, and Willy, to whom this prop- 
 osition seemed as ridiculous, joined in in the same 
 key. 
 
 Herr von Wallmoden did not indulge in this hilar- 
 ity, which seemed to jar upon his nerves. He only 
 shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "I do not intend that, indeed; it would probably 
 be lost pains ; but I and Willibald are now the only 
 representatives of the family, and if I should remain 
 unmarried " 
 
 "Iff Are you contemplating marriage in your 
 old age?" interrupted his sister in her inconsiderate 
 manner. 
 
 "I am forty-five years old, dear Regine. That is 
 not usually considered old in a man," said Wall- 
 moden, somewhat offended. "At any rate, I con- 
 sider a late contracted marriage the best, because 
 then one is not influenced by passion as was Falken- 
 ried to his great misfortune, but one allows reason to 
 guide the decision." 
 
 "May God help me! Must Willy wait until he 
 has fifty years upon his back and gray hairs upon 
 his head before he marries!" exclaimed Frau von 
 Eschenhagen, horrified. 
 
 "No ; for he must consider the fact that he is an 
 only son and future lord of the estates; besides, it 
 will depend upon an individual attachment. What 
 do you say, Willibald?" 
 
 The young future lord, who had just finished his 
 ham and eggs, and was now turning with unappeased 
 appetite to the wurst, was apparently greatly sur- 
 prised at having his opinion asked. Such a thing 
 happened so seldom that he was now thrown into a 
 spell of deep musing, declaring as the result of it : 
 
 "Yes; I shall probably have to marry some time,
 
 ID THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 but mamma will find me a wife when the time 
 comes." 
 
 "That she will, my boy," affirmed Frau von 
 Eschenhagen. "That is my affair; you do not need 
 to worry about it at all. You will remain here in 
 Burgsdorf, where I shall have you under my eyes. 
 Universities and travels are not to be considered 
 that is decided." 
 
 She threw a challenging glance at her brother, but 
 he was regarding with a kind of horror the enor- 
 mous amount of eatables which his nephew was pil- 
 ing upon his plate for the second time. 
 
 "Do you always have such a healthy appetite, 
 Willy?" he asked. 
 
 "Always," assured Willy with satisfaction, taking 
 another huge piece of bread and butter. 
 
 "Yes; God be thanked, we do not suffer from 
 indigestion here," said Frau Regine, somewhat 
 pointedly. "We deserve our meals honestly. First 
 play and work, then eat and drink, and heartily 
 that keeps soul and body together. Just look at 
 Willy, how he has prospered with that treatment. 
 He need never be ashamed to be seen." 
 
 She slapped her brother upon the shoulder in a 
 friendly manner at these words, but so heartily that 
 Wallmoden hastily pushed his chair out of her reach. 
 His face betrayed plainly that his hair was "stand- 
 ing on end" again; but he gave up the enforcing of 
 his rights as guardian in the face of these primitive 
 conditions. 
 
 Willy, on the contrary, apparently discovered that 
 he had turned out extraordinarily well, and looked 
 very pleased at this praise of his mother, who con- 
 tinued now rather vexedly : 
 
 "And Hartmut has not come to breakfast again !
 
 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 1? 
 
 He seems to allow himself all sorts of irregularities 
 here at Burgsdorf. but I shall lecture the young man 
 when he comes, and make him " 
 
 "Here he is already!" cried a voice from the gar- 
 den. 
 
 A shadow fell athwart the bright sunshine that 
 poured in through the open window, in which there 
 suddenly appeared a youthful form, which swung it- 
 self through from the outside. 
 
 "Boy, are you out of your senses that you enter 
 through the window?" exclaimed Frau von Eschen- 
 hagen indignantly. "What are the doors for?" 
 
 "For Willy and other well-raised people," laughed 
 the intruder mirthfully. "I always take the short- 
 est route, and this time it led through this 
 window." 
 
 With one jump he landed in the middle of the 
 room from the high sill. 
 
 Hartmut Falkenried, like the future lord of 
 Burgsdorf, stood at the border between boyhood 
 and manhood, but beyond that likeness it required 
 but a glance to see the superiority of Hartmut in 
 every respect. 
 
 He wore the cadet uniform, which became him 
 wonderfully, but there was something in his whole 
 appearance indicative of a revolt against the strict 
 military cut. 
 
 The tall, slender boy was a true picture of youth 
 and beauty, but this beauty had something strange 
 and foreign about it; the movement and whole ap- 
 pearance had a wild, unruled element ; and not a fea- 
 ture reminded one of the powerful, soldierly figure 
 and grave composure of the father. The thick, curly 
 hair of a blue-black color, falling over the high brow, 
 denoted a son of the South, rather than a German;
 
 18 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the eyes also, which glowed in the youthful face, did 
 not belong to the cold, calm North ; they were mys- 
 terious eyes, dark as night, yet full of hot, passion- 
 ate fire. Beautiful as they were, there was some- 
 thing uncanny about them. 
 
 And now the laugh, with which Hartmut looked 
 from one to another of the assembly, had more of 
 the supercilious about it than of a boy's hearty mirth. 
 
 "You introduce yourself in a very unconventional 
 manner," said Wallmoden sharply; "you seem to 
 think that no etiquette is to be observed at Burgs- 
 dorf. I hardly think your father would have per- 
 mitted such an entrance into a dining-room." 
 
 "He does not take such liberties with his father," 
 said Frau von Eschenhagen, who fortunately did 
 not feel the stab which lay for her also in her 
 brother's words. "So you finally come now, Hart- 
 mut, when we have finished breakfast? But late 
 people do not get anything to eat you know that." 
 
 "Yes, I know it," returned Hartmut, quite uncon- 
 cerned ; "therefore I got the housekeeper to give me 
 some breakfast. You can't starve me out, Aunt 
 Regine. I am on too good terms with all your 
 people." 
 
 "So you think you will be able to take all sorts of 
 liberties unpunished," cried the lady of the house 
 angrily. "You break all the rules of the house ; you 
 leave no person nor thing in peace; you stand all 
 Burgsdorf upon its head! We shall know how to 
 stop all that, my boy. I shall send a messenger over 
 to your father to-morrow, to ask him to kindly come 
 for his son, who can be taught no punctuality or 
 obedience." 
 
 This threat was effective ; the boy grew serious and 
 found it best to yield.
 
 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 19 
 
 "Oh, all that is only jesting," he said. "Am I 
 not to utilize the short vacation " 
 
 "For all sorts of foolishness?" interrupted Frau 
 von Eschenhagen. "Willy in all his life has not 
 done so many pranks as you in these last three days. 
 You will ruin him for me by your bad example and 
 make him also disobedient." 
 
 "Oh, Willy can't be ruined ; all pains are thrown 
 away with him," confessed Hartmut frankly. 
 
 The young lord did not look, indeed, as if he had 
 any inclination to disobedience. Quite unconcerned 
 by all this conversation, he calmly finished his 
 breakfast by still another piece of bread and 
 butter; but his mother was highly incensed over 
 this remark. 
 
 "You are doubtless extremely sorry for that," she 
 exclaimed. "You have taken pains enough to ruin 
 him. Very well, it remains as I said to-morrow I 
 write to your father." 
 
 "To come for me? You will not do that, Aunt 
 Regfine. You are too good to do that. You know 
 very well how strict papa is how harshly he can 
 punish. You surely will not accuse me to him you 
 have never done so before." 
 
 "Leave me alone, boy, with your flatteries." Frau 
 Regine's face was still very grim, but her voice al- 
 ready betrayed a perceptible wavering, and Hart- 
 mut knew how to take the advantage offered. With 
 the artless frankness of a boy, he laid his arm around 
 her shoulders. 
 
 "I thought you loved me a little bit, Aunt Regine. 
 I I have anticipated this trip to Burgsdorf so joy- 
 ously for weeks. I have longed until I was sick, for 
 forest and lake, for the green meadows and the wide, 
 blue sky ; I have been so happy here but, of course,
 
 20 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 if you do not want me, I shall leave immediately; 
 you do not need to send me away." 
 
 His voice sank to a soft, coaxing whisper, while 
 the large, dark eyes helped with the pleading only 
 too effectively. They could speak more fervently 
 than the lips; they seemed, indeed, to have peculiar 
 power. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen, who to Willy and all 
 Burgsdorf, was the stern, absolute ruler, now al- 
 lowed herself to be moved to compliance. 
 
 "Well, then, behave yourself, you Eulenspiegel," 
 she said, running her fingers through his thick curls. 
 "As to sending you away, you know only too well 
 that Willy and all my people are perfectly foolish 
 about you and so am I." 
 
 Hartmut shouted in his happiness at these last 
 words, and kissed her hand in fervent gratitude. 
 Then he turned to his friend, who had now happily 
 mastered his last sandwich, and was regarding the 
 scene before him in quiet amazement. 
 
 "Are you through with your breakfast at last, 
 Willy? Come on; we wished to go to the Burgsdorf 
 pond now don't be so slow and deliberate. Good- 
 by, Aunt Regine. I see that Uncle Wallmoden is 
 not pleased in the least that you have pardoned me. 
 Hurrah ! Now we are off for the woods." 
 
 And away he dashed over the terraces and down 
 to the garden. There was in this unruliness an 
 overflowing youthful happiness and strength that 
 were enchanting; the lad was all life and fire. Willy 
 trotted behind him like a young bear, and they dis- 
 appeared in a few seconds behind the trees and 
 shrubberies. 
 
 "He comes and goes like a whirlwind," said Frau 
 von Eschenhagen, looking after them. "That boy
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 21 
 
 cannot be restrained when once the reins are slack- 
 ened." 
 
 "A dangerous lad!" declared Wallmoden. "He 
 understands how to rule even you, who otherwise 
 rule supreme. It is the first time in my knowledge 
 that you pardon disobedience and unpunctuality." 
 
 "Yes, Hartmut has something about him that 
 really bewitches a body," exclaimed Frau von Es- 
 chenhagen, half vexed over her yielding. "When 
 he looks at one with those glowing, black eyes, and 
 begs and pleads besides, I would like to see the one 
 who could say no. You are right ; he is a dangerous 
 lad." 
 
 "Yes, very true; but let us leave Hartmut alone 
 now and consider the education of your own -son. 
 You have really decided " 
 
 "To keep him at home. Do not trouble yourself, 
 Herbert. You may be an important diplomat and 
 carry the whole political business in your pockets, 
 but nevertheless I do not surrender my boy to you. 
 He belongs to me alone, and I keep him settled!" 
 
 A hearty slap upon the table accompanied this 
 "settled," with which the reigning mistress of Burgs- 
 dorf arose and walked out of doors ; but her brother 
 shrugged his shoulders, and muttered half audibly : 
 "Let him become a country squire, for all I care it 
 may be best, anyhow."
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 IN the meantime, Hartmut and Willibald had 
 reached the forest belonging to the estate. The 
 Burgsdorf pond, a lonely water bordered by rushes 
 in the midst of the forest, lay motionless, shining 
 in the sunlight of the quiet morning hour. 
 
 The young lord found for himself a shady place 
 upon the bank, and devoted himself comfortably and 
 persistently to the interesting occupation of fishing, 
 while the impatient Hartmut roamed around, start- 
 ing a bird here, plucking rushes and flowers there, 
 and finally indulging in gymnastics upon the trunk 
 of a tree which lay half in the water. 
 
 "Can you never be quiet in one place ? You scare 
 off all the fishes," said Willy, displeased. "I have 
 not caught a thing to-day." 
 
 "How can you sit for hours in one spot waiting 
 for the stupid fishes but, of course, you can roam 
 through field and forest all the year round whenever 
 you like. You are free free !" 
 
 "Are you imprisoned?" asked Willy. "Are not 
 you and your companions out of doors every day?" 
 
 "But never alone never without restraint and 
 supervision. We are eternally on duty, even in the 
 hours of recreation. Oh, how I hate it this duty 
 and life of slavery!" 
 
 "But, Hartmut, what if your father should hear 
 that?"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 23 
 
 "He would punish me again, then, as usual. He 
 has nothing for me but severity and punishment. I 
 don't care it's all the same to me." 
 
 He threw himself upon the grass, but harsh and 
 disagreeable as his words sounded, there was in 
 them something like a pained, passionate complaint. 
 
 Willy only shook his head deliberately fastening a 
 new bait to his hook meanwhile, and deep silence 
 reigned for a few moments. 
 
 Suddenly something dashed down from on high, 
 lightning-like; the water, just now so motionless, 
 splashed and foamed, and in the next moment a 
 heron rose high in the air, carrying the struggling, 
 silver-shining prey in his bill. 
 
 "Bravo ! that was a splendid shot," cried Hartmut, 
 starting up, but Willy scolded vexedly. "The 
 
 con robber strips our whole pond. I shall tell 
 
 the forester to keep an eye on him." 
 
 "A robber!" repeated Hartmut, as his eyes fol- 
 lowed the heron, which now disappeared behind the 
 tree-tops. "Yes, surely; but it must be beautiful 
 such a free robber's life high up in the air. To dash 
 down from the heights like a flash of lightning to 
 grab the booty, then soar high with it again where no 
 one can follow that is worthy of the chase." 
 
 "Hartmut, I actually believe you have a good no- 
 tion to lead such a robber's life," said Willy, with the 
 deep horror of a well-raised boy for such inclina- 
 tions. 
 
 His companion laughed, but it was again that 
 harsh, strange laugh which had in it nothing youth- 
 ful. 
 
 "And if I should have it, they would know how to 
 get it out of me at the cadets' school. There is 
 obedience discipline the Alpha and Omega of all
 
 24 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 things, and one finally learns it, too. Willy, have 
 you never longed for wings ?" 
 
 "I? Wings?" ejaculated Willy, whose full atten- 
 tion was again directed to hook and line. "Non- 
 sense! who could wish for impossibilities?" 
 
 "I wish I had some," cried Hartmut, flaming up. 
 "I wish I were one of the falcons of which we hear. 
 Then I would soar high up into the blue air always 
 higher and higher toward the sun, and would never, 
 never come back." 
 
 "I think you are crazy," said the young lord calm- 
 ly; "but I have not caught anything yet; the fish 
 will not bite at all to-day. I must try another spot." 
 
 He gathered up his fishing paraphernalia and went 
 to the other side of the pond. 
 
 Hartmut threw himself upon the ground again. 
 
 How could he expect that the stolid, matter-of- 
 fact Willibald should harbor thoughts of flying! 
 
 It was one of those autumn days which seem to 
 charm back the summer for a few short hours the 
 sunshine was so golden, the air so mild, the woods 
 so fresh and fragrant. Thousands of brilliant 
 sparkles danced upon the water; the rushes whis- 
 pered low and mysteriously as the air breathed 
 through them. 
 
 Hartmut lay quite motionless, listening to this 
 mystery of whispering and fluttering. The wild, 
 passionate flame, which had flared up almost un- 
 cannily when he spoke of the bird of prey, had dis- 
 appeared from his eyes. Now they were riveted 
 dreamily upon the shining blue of the sky, with a 
 consuming longing in their depths. 
 
 Light footsteps drew near, almost inaudible on the 
 soft forest soil ; the bushes rustled as if brushed by a 
 silken garment, and parted ; a female figure emerged
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 25 
 
 noiselessly and stopped short, fixing an intent look 
 upon the young dreamer. 
 
 "Hartmut!" 
 
 He started and sprang up quickly. He did not 
 know the voice, nor the stranger, but it was a lady, 
 and he bowed chivalrously. 
 
 "Gracious lady 
 
 A slender and trembling hand was laid hastily 
 and warningly upon his arm. 
 
 "Hush not so loud your companion might hear 
 us, and I must speak with you, Hartmut with you 
 alone." 
 
 She stepped back again and motioned him to fol- 
 low. Hartmut hesitated a moment. How came 
 this stranger, whose face was closely veiled, but who, 
 to judge by her dress, belonged to the highest class, 
 at this lonely forest pond? And what was the 
 meaning of the familiar "thou" from her to him, 
 whom she saw now for the first time ? But the mys- 
 tery of the encounter began to interest him, and he 
 followed her. 
 
 They stopped under the protection of the bushes 
 where they could not be seen from the other side, and 
 the stranger slowly raised her veil. 
 
 She was no longer in her youth a woman still 
 in her thirties but the face with the dark, flashing 
 eyes possessed a strange fascination, and the same 
 charm was in the voice, which, even in the whisper, 
 was soft and deep, with a foreign accent, as if the 
 German which she spoke so fluently was not her na- 
 tive tongue. 
 
 "Hartmut, look at me. Do you really not re- 
 member me ? Have you not kept some recollection 
 from your childhood that tells you who I am ?" 
 
 The young man shook his head slowly, and yet
 
 26 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 there arose in his mind a remembrance, misty and 
 dreamlike, that told him he did not now hear this 
 voice for the first time that he had seen this face 
 before in times long, long past. Half timidly, half 
 transfixed, he stood there gazing upon the stranger, 
 who suddenly stretched out both arms toward him. 
 
 "My son ! my only child ! do you not know your 
 mother?" 
 
 Hartmut retreated, startled. 
 
 "My mother is dead," he said in a low tone. 
 
 The stranger laughed bitterly; it sounded exactly 
 like that harsh, unchildlike laugh which had come 
 from the lips of the lad only a short while ago. 
 
 "So that is it; they have called me dead. They 
 would not leave you even the memory of your 
 mother. But it is not true, Hartmut. I live I 
 stand before you. Look at me ! look at my features, 
 which are yours also. They could not take those 
 from you. Child of my heart, do you not feel that 
 you belong to me?" 
 
 Still Hartmut stood motionless, looking into the 
 face in which he saw his own reflected as in a mirror. 
 There were the same features, the same abundant, 
 blue-black hair; the same large, deep black eyes 
 yes even the strange demoniac expression which 
 glowed like a flame in the mother's eyes, glimmered 
 as a spark in the eyes of the son. The natural re- 
 semblance showed that they were of the same blood, 
 and now the voice of that blood woke up in the 
 young man. 
 
 He did not ask for explanations for proofs ; the 
 confused, dream-like recollections suddenly became 
 clear. Only one more second of hesitation, then he 
 threw himself into the arms which were open for 
 him.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 27 
 
 "Mother!" 
 
 In the exclamation lay the glowing devotion of the 
 lad, who had never known what it was to possess a 
 mother, and who had longed for it with all his pas- 
 sionate nature. 
 
 His mother! As he lay in her arms while she 
 overwhelmed him with passionate caresses with 
 tender, fond names such as he had never heard, all 
 else disappeared in the flood of overwhelming de- 
 light. 
 
 Several minutes passed thus, then Hartmut disen- 
 gaged himself from the embrace which would have 
 detained him. 
 
 "Why have you never been with me, mamma?" 
 he asked vehemently. "Why did they tell me that 
 you were dead?" 
 
 Zalika drew back. In a moment all the tenderness 
 vanished from her face ; a light kindled there of wild, 
 deadly hatred, and the answer came hissing from her 
 lips: 
 
 "Because your father hates me, my son, and be- 
 cause he did not wish to leave me even the love of 
 my only child when he thrust me from him." 
 
 Hartmut was silent with consternation. He knew 
 well that no one dared mention his mother's name 
 in his father's presence that his father had once 
 silenced him with the greatest harshness when he 
 had ventured to ask for her, but he had been too 
 young to muse over the why. 
 
 Zalika did not give him time for it now. She 
 stroked the dark, curly hair back from the high fore- 
 head, and a shadow rested on her face. 
 
 "You have his brow," she said slowly, "but that is 
 the only thing to remind of him; everything else 
 belongs to me to me alone. Every feature tells
 
 28 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 that you are wholly mine. I knew it would 
 be so." 
 
 Again she embraced him, overwhelming him with 
 caresses, which Hartmut returned as passionately. 
 It was an intoxication of happiness to him like one 
 of the fairy tales of which he had so often dreamed, 
 and he gave himself up to the charm unquestion- 
 ingly and unreservedly. 
 
 But now Willy made himself heard on the oppo-. 
 site bank, calling loudly for his friend, and remind- 
 ing him that it was time to return home. 
 
 Zalika started. 
 
 "We must part. Nobody must know that I have 
 seen you and spoken with you, particularly your 
 father. When do you return to him?" 
 
 "In eight days." 
 
 "Not until then?" The tone was triumphant. 
 "I shall see you every day until then. Be here at 
 the pond to-morrow at the same hour. Dispense 
 with your companion under some pretext, so that 
 we may be undisturbed. You will come, Hartmut ?" 
 
 "Certainly mother, but " 
 
 She did not give him time for an excuse, but con- 
 tinued in the same passionate whisper: 
 
 "Above all, be silent to everybody; do not forget 
 that. Farewell, my child, my beloved only son. Au 
 revoir!" 
 
 One more fervent kiss upon Hartmut's brow, then 
 she vanished in the bushes as mysteriously as she had 
 appeared. It was quite time, for Willy appeared on 
 the scene, his approach being heralded by his heavy 
 stamping upon the forest ground. 
 
 "Why do you not answer?" he demanded. "I 
 have called three times. Did you fall asleep ? You 
 look as if you had been startled from a dream."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 29 
 
 Hartmut stood as if stunned, gazing upon the 
 bushes in which his mother had disappeared. At 
 his cousin's words he straightened himself and drew 
 his hand across his brow. 
 
 "Yes, I have been dreaming," he said, slowly; 
 "quite a wonderful, strange dream." 
 
 "You might rather have been fishing," said Willy; 
 "just see what a splendid catch I got over on the 
 other bank. A person ought not to dream in broad 
 daylight. He ought to be properly occupied, my 
 mother says and my mother is always right."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 THE families of Falkenried and Wallmoden had 
 been friendly for years. As owners of adjoining 
 estates they visited each other frequently; the chil- 
 dren grew up together, and many mutual interests 
 drew the bonds of friendship still closer. 
 
 As both families were only comfortably well off, 
 the sons had their own way to make, which, after 
 completing their education, Major Hartmut von 
 Falkenried and Herbert Wallmoden had done. They 
 had been playmates as children, and had remained 
 true to that friendship when grown to manhood. 
 
 At one time the parents thought to cement this 
 friendship by a marriage between the at that time 
 Lieutenant Falkenried and Regine Wallmoden. 
 The young couple seemed in perfect accord w r ith it, 
 and all looked propitious for the match, when some- 
 thing took place which brought the plan to a sudden 
 end. 
 
 A cousin of the Wallmoden family an incorri- 
 gible fellow who, through divers bad capers, had 
 made it impossible to remain at home, had, long ago, 
 gone out into the wide world. After much travel 
 and a rather adventurous life, he had landed in Rou- 
 mania. where he acted as inspector upon the estates 
 of a rich Bojar. The rich man died, and the in- 
 spector thought best to retrieve his lost fortunes and 
 position in life by marriage with the widow. 
 
 It was consummated, and he returned to his old
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 31 
 
 home, accompanied by his wife, for a visit to his 
 relatives, after an absence of more than ten years. 
 
 Frau von Wallmoden's bloom of youth had long 
 passed, but she brought with her her daughter by her 
 first marriage Zalika Rojanow. 
 
 The young girl, hardly seventeen years old, with 
 her foreign beauty and charm of her glowing tem- 
 perament, burst like a meteor upon the horizon of 
 this German country nobility, whose life flowed in 
 such calm, even channels. 
 
 And she was a strange object in this circle, whose 
 forms and manners she disregarded with sovereign 
 indifference, and who stared at her as at a being 
 from another world. There was many a serious 
 shaking of heads and much condemnation, which was 
 not uttered aloud, because they saw in the girl only 
 a temporary visitor, who would disappear as sud- 
 denly as she had come into view. 
 
 Just about this time Hartmut Falkenried came 
 from his garrison to the paternal estates, and be- 
 came acquainted* with the new relatives of his 
 friends. He saw Zalika and recognized in her his 
 fate. It was one of those passions which spring up 
 lightning-like which resemble the intoxication of a 
 dream, and are paid for only too frequently with the 
 penance of the whole life. 
 
 Forgotten were the wishes of the parents, his own 
 plans for the future forgotten the quiet affection 
 which had drawn him to his playmate Regine. He 
 no longer had eyes for the domestic flower which 
 bloomed young and fresh for him ; he breathed only 
 the intoxicating perfume of the foreign wonder- 
 plant. All else disappeared before her, and in a 
 quiet hour with her he threw himself at her feet, 
 confessing his love.
 
 32 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Strangely enough, his feelings were returned. 
 Perhaps it was the truth of extremes meeting which 
 drew Zalika to a man who was her opposite in every 
 respect; perhaps she was flattered by the fact that 
 a glance, a word from her could change the grave, 
 calm and almost gloomy nature of the young officer 
 to enthusiasm. 
 
 Enough, she accepted his proposal and he was per- 
 mitted to embrace her as his betrothed. 
 
 The news of this engagement created a storm in 
 the whole family circle; entreaties and warnings 
 came from all sides ; even Zalika's mother and step- 
 father opposed it, but the universal disapproval only 
 increased the determination of the young couple, 
 and six months later Falkenried led his young wife 
 into his home. 
 
 But the voices who prophesied misfortune to this 
 marriage were in the right. The bitterest disap- 
 pointment followed the short term of happiness. It 
 had been a dangerous mistake to believe that a 
 woman like Zalika Rojanow, grown up in boundless 
 freedom and accustomed to the uncontrolled, ex- 
 travagant life of the families of the Bojars of her 
 country, could ever submit herself to German views 
 and conditions. 
 
 To gallop about on fiery horses ; to associate freely 
 with men who spent their time in hunting and gam- 
 bling, and who surrounded themselves in their 
 homes with a splendor which went hand in hand with 
 the most corrupted indebtedness of estates such 
 was life as she had known it so far, and the only life 
 which suited her. 
 
 A conception of duty was as foreign to her as the 
 knowledge of her new position in life. And this 
 woman was to accommodate herself now to the
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 33 
 
 household of a young officer of but limited means, 
 and to the conditions of a small German garrison! 
 
 That this was impossible was proved in the first 
 weeks. Zalika began by throwing aside every con- 
 sideration, and furnishing her house in her usual 
 style, squandering heedlessly her by no means in- 
 significant dowry. 
 
 In vain her husband entreated, remonstrated; he 
 found no hearing. She had only sarcasm for forms 
 and rules which were holy to him; only a shrug of 
 the shoulder for his strict sense of honor and ideas 
 of decorum. 
 
 Very soon they had the most vehement contro- 
 versies, and Falkenried recognized too late the seri- 
 ous error which he had committed. He had counted 
 upon the all-powerful efficacy of love to battle 
 against those warning voices which had pointed out 
 the difference of descent, education and character, 
 but he was forced now to recognize that Zalika had 
 never loved him ; that caprice alone, or a sudden out- 
 burst of passion, which died as suddenly, had 
 brought her to his arms. 
 
 She saw in him now only the uncomfortable com- 
 panion who begrudged her every pleasure of life; 
 who, with his foolish his ridiculous ideas of honor, 
 fettered and bound her on every side. Still, she 
 feared this man, whose dominant will succeeded al- 
 ways in bowing her characterless nature under his 
 rod. 
 
 Even the birth of little Hartmut was not sufficient 
 to reconcile this unhappy marriage ; it only held it, 
 apparently, together. Zalika loved her child pas- 
 sionately ; she knew her husband would never permit 
 her to keep it if they separated. This alone retained 
 her at his side, while Falkenried bore his domestic
 
 34 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 misery with concealed pain, putting forth every ef- 
 fort to hide it at least from the world. 
 
 Nevertheless, the world knew the truth ; it knew 
 things of which the husband did not even dream and 
 which were kept concealed from him through sheer 
 compassion. 
 
 But finally the day came when the deceived hus- 
 band was told what was no secret to others. 
 
 The immediate result following was a duel in 
 which Falkenried's opponent fell. Falkenried him- 
 self was imprisoned, but was soon pardoned. 
 
 Every one knew that the offended husband had 
 only vindicated his honor. 
 
 In the meantime, steps were taken for a divorce, 
 which was granted in due time. Zalika made no 
 opposition. She dared not approach her husband; 
 she trembled before him since that hour of separa- 
 tion, when he had called her to account; but she 
 made desperate efforts to secure the possession of 
 her child, fighting as for life. 
 
 It was in vain. Hartmut was given uncondition- 
 ally to his father, who knew how to prevent every 
 approach of the mother with iron inflexibility. 
 
 Zalika was not even allowed to see her son again, 
 and it was only after convincing herself entirely on 
 that point that she left returning to the home of 
 her mother. 
 
 She had seemed lost to and forgotten by her for- 
 mer husband until she suddenly reappeared in Ger- 
 many, where Major Falkenried now held an impor- 
 tant position in the large military school at the 
 Residenz. 
 
 ****** 
 
 It was about a week after the arrival of Hartmut 
 at Burgsdorf. Frau von Eschenhagen was in he.r
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 35 
 
 sitting-room with Major Falkenried, who had but 
 just arrived. 
 
 The topic of their conversation seemed to be very 
 serious and of a rather disagreeable nature, for Falk- 
 enried listened with a gloomy face to his friend, 
 who was speaking. 
 
 "I noticed Hartmut's changed demeanor the third 
 or fourth day. The boy, whose mirth at first knew 
 no bounds, so that I even threatened to send him 
 back home, suddenly became subdued. He com- 
 mitted no more foolish pranks, but roamed for hours 
 through the woods alone, and when he returned was 
 always dreaming with his eyes open, to such an ex- 
 tent that one had almost to awake him. 'He is be- 
 ginning to get sensible,' said Herbert; but I said, 
 'Things are not going right; there is something be- 
 hind all this,' and I questioned my Willy, who also 
 appeared quite peculiar. He was actually in the 
 plot. He had surprised the two one day. Hart- 
 mut had made him promise to keep silent, and my 
 boy positively hid something from me, his mother! 
 He confessed only when I got after him seriously. 
 Well, he will not do it a second time. I have taken 
 care of that." 
 
 "And Hartmut ? What did he say ?" interrupted 
 the Major hastily. 
 
 "Nothing at all, for I have not spoken a syllable 
 to him about it. He would probably have asked 
 me why he should not see and speak to his own 
 mother, and only his father can give him the an- 
 swer to that question." 
 
 "He has probably heard it already from the other 
 side," said Falkenried bitterly; "but he has hardly 
 learned the truth." 
 
 "I fear so, too, and therefore I did not lose a min-
 
 36 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 ute in notifying you after discovering the affair. 
 But what next ?" 
 
 "I shall have to interfere now," replied the Major 
 with forced composure. "I thank you, Regine. I 
 apprehended trouble when your letter called me so 
 imperatively. Herbert was right. I ought not to 
 have allowed my son to leave my side for an hour 
 under the circumstances. But I believed him safe 
 from every approach here at Burgsdorf. And he 
 anticipated the trip with such pleasure he longed 
 for it almost passionately. I did not have the heart 
 to refuse him. He is happy, anyway, only when 
 absent from me." 
 
 There was deep pain in the last words, but Frau 
 von Eschenhagen only shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "That is not the fault of .the boy alone," she said 
 straightforwardly. "I also keep my Willy under 
 good control, but nevertheless he knows that he has 
 a mother whose heart is full of him. Hartmut does 
 not know that of his father. He knows him only 
 from a grave, unapproachable side. If he had an 
 idea that you idolize him secretly " 
 
 "He would abuse the knowledge and disarm me 
 with his caressing tenderness. Shall I allow myself 
 to be ruled by him as every one else is who comes 
 into his presence ? His comrades follow him blindly 
 although he brings punishment upon them by his 
 pranks. He has your Willibald completely under 
 control yes, even his teachers treat him with par- 
 ticular indulgence. I am the only one he fears, and 
 consequently the only one he respects." 
 
 "And you think by fear alone to succeed with the 
 boy, who is doubtless now being overwhelmed with 
 the most senseless caresses! Do not turn away, 
 Falkenried; you know I have never mentioned that
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 37 
 
 name to you, but now that it is brought forward so 
 prominently, one may speak it. And since we hap- 
 pen to be upon the subject, I tell you frankly that 
 nothing else could be expected since Frau Zalika's 
 appearance. It would have done no good to have 
 kept Hartmut from Burgsdorf, for one cannot treat 
 a seventeen-year-old lad like a little child. The 
 mother would have found her way to him in spite of 
 all and it was her right. I would have done just 
 so, too." 
 
 "Her right !" cried the Major angrily. "And you 
 tell me that, Regine?" 
 
 "I say it because I know what it is to have an only 
 child. That you should take the child from its 
 mother was right such a mother was not fit for the 
 raising of a boy but that you now refuse to let her 
 see her son again after twelve years is harshness 
 and cruelty, which hatred alone can teach you. How- 
 ever great her faults may be, that punishment is too 
 severe." 
 
 Falkenried stared gloomily before him he might 
 have felt the truth of the words. Finally he said, 
 slowly : 
 
 "I would never have thought that you would take 
 Zalika's part. I offended you bitterly once for her 
 sake I broke a bond " 
 
 "Which had not even been tied," interrupted Frau 
 von Eschenhagen. "It was a plan of our parents 
 nothing more." 
 
 "But the idea was dear and familiar to us from 
 childhood. Do not attempt to excuse me, Regine; 
 I only know too well what I did at that time to you 
 and to myself." 
 
 Regine fixed her clear, gray eyes upon him, but 
 there was a moist gleam in them as she replied :
 
 38 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Well, yes, Hartmut ; now since we are both long 
 past our youth, I may, perhaps, confess that I liked 
 you then. You might have been able to make some- 
 thing better of me than I am now. I was always a 
 self-willed child not easy to rule; but I would have 
 followed you perhaps you alone of all the world. 
 When I went to the altar with Eschenhagen three 
 months after your marriage, matters were reversed. 
 
 I took the reins into my own hands and began to 
 command, and since then I have learned it thor- 
 oughly But now, away with that old story, 
 
 long since past. I have not thought hard of you 
 because of it you know that. 
 
 "We have remained friends in spite of it, and if 
 you need me now, in advice as well as deed, I am 
 ready to help you." 
 
 She offered her hand, which he grasped. 
 
 "I know it, Regine, but I alone can advise here. 
 Please send Hartmut to me. I must speak to him." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen arose and left the room, 
 murmuring as she went : "If only it is not too late 
 already! She blinded and enraptured the father 
 once. She has probably secured her son now."
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 HARTMUT entered the room and closed the door 
 behind him, but remained standing near it. Falken- 
 ried turned toward him. 
 
 "Come nearer, Hartmut ; I must speak with you." 
 
 The youth obeyed, drawing near slowly. 
 
 He already knew that Willibald had had to con- 
 fess; that his rendezvous with his mother had been 
 betrayed; but the awe with which he always ap- 
 proached his father was mingled to-day with defi- 
 ance, which was not unnoticed by the Major. 
 
 He scanned the youthful, handsome person of his 
 son with a long, gloomy glance. 
 
 "My sudden arrival does not seem to surprise 
 you," he began; "you probably know what brought 
 me here." 
 
 "Yes, father, I surmise it." 
 
 "Very well, we do not need then to continue with 
 preliminaries. You have learned that your mother 
 is still living. She has approached you and you are 
 in communication with her. I know it already. 
 When did you see her for the first time ?" 
 
 "Five days ago." 
 
 "And since then you have spoken with her daily?" 
 
 "Yes, near the Burgsdorf pond." 
 
 Question and reply alike sounded curt and calm. 
 
 Hartmut was accustomed to this strict, military 
 manner, even in his private intercourse with his 
 father, who never allowed a superfluous word, a 
 
 39
 
 40 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 hesitation or evasion in the answers. This tone was 
 kept up even to-day to veil his painful excitement 
 from the eyes of his son. Hartmut saw only the 
 grave, unmoved face; heard only the sound of cold 
 severity as the Major continued : 
 
 "I will not make it a reproach to you, as I have 
 never forbidden you anything regarding it ; the sub- 
 ject has never been mentioned between us. But 
 since matters have gone so far, I will have to break 
 the silence. You thought your mother dead, and I 
 have silently allowed you to think so, for I wished 
 to save you from reminiscences which have poisoned 
 my life. I meant that your youth, at least, should 
 be free from it. It seems that it cannot be, so you 
 may hear the truth." 
 
 He paused for a moment. It was torture to the 
 man, with his delicate sense of honor, to talk on this 
 subject before his son, but there was no longer a 
 choice he must speak on. 
 
 "I loved your mother passionately when a young 
 officer, and married her against the wish of my pa- 
 rents, who saw no good to result from a marriage 
 with a woman of foreign race. They were right, 
 the marriage was deeply unfortunate, and we finally 
 separated at my desire. I had an undeniable right 
 to demand the separation, and also the possession 
 of my son, which was granted me unconditionally. 
 1 cannot tell you any more, for I will not accuse the 
 mother to the son ; therefore let this suffice you." 
 
 Short and harsh as this explanation sounded, it 
 yet made a strange impression upon Hartmut. The 
 father would not accuse the mother to him, who had 
 been hearing daily the most bitter accusation, abuse 
 and slander against the father. 
 
 Zalika had put the whole blame of the separation
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 41 
 
 upon her husband, upon his unheard-of tyranny, and 
 she found only too willing a listener in the youth 
 whose unruly nature suffered so intensely under that 
 severity. And yet those short, earnest words now 
 weighed more than all the passionate outbursts of 
 the mother. Hartmut felt instinctively upon which 
 side the truth stood. 
 
 "But now to the most important point," resumed 
 Falkenried. "What has been the subject of your 
 conversation ?" 
 
 Hartmut had not expected this question, and a 
 burning blush suffused his face. He was silent and 
 looked to the ground. 
 
 "Ah, so ! you do not dare to repeat it to me ; but 
 I request to know it. Answer, I command you!" 
 
 But Hartmut remained silent; he only closed his 
 lips more firmly, and his eyes met his father's with 
 dark defiance. . 
 
 Falkenried now drew nearer. 
 
 "You will not speak ? Has a command from that 
 side, perhaps, made you silent? Never mind, your 
 silence says more than words. I see how much es- 
 tranged from me you have become, and you would 
 become lost entirely to me if I should leave you 
 longer under that influence. These meetings with 
 your mother must be ended. I forbid them. You 
 will accompany me home to-day and remain under 
 my supervision. Whether it seems cruel to you or 
 not, it must be so, and you will obey." 
 
 But the Major was mistaken when he thought to 
 bow his son to his will by a simple command. 
 
 Hartmut had been in a school during these last 
 days where defiance against the father had been 
 taught him in the most effectual manner. 
 
 "Father, you will not you cannot command
 
 42 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 that," he burst forth now with overpowering ve- 
 hemence. "It is my mother who is found again; 
 the only one in the whole world who loves me. I 
 shall not let her be taken from me again as she has 
 already been taken. I shall not allow myself to be 
 forced to hate her because you hate her. Threaten 
 punish me do whatever you will with me, but I do 
 not obey this time. I will not obey." 
 
 The whole unruly, passionate nature of the young 
 man was in these words; the uncanny fire flamed 
 again in his eyes; the hands were clenched; every 
 fibre throbbed in wild rebellion. He was apparently 
 decided to do battle against the long-feared father. 
 
 But the burst of anger which he so confidently ex- 
 pected did not come. Falkenried only looked at 
 him silently, but with a glance of grave, deep re- 
 proach. 
 
 "The only one in the whole world who loves you !" 
 he repeated slowly. "You have, perhaps, forgotten 
 that you still have a father." 
 
 "Who does not love me, though," cried Hartmut 
 in overwhelming bitterness. "Only since I have 
 found my mother have I known what love is." 
 
 "Hartmut!" 
 
 The youth looked up, startled by the strange, 
 pained tone which he heard for the first time, and 
 the defiance which was about to break forth again 
 died on his lips. 
 
 "Because I have no pet names and caresses for 
 you ; because I have raised you with seriousness and 
 firmness, do you doubt my love?" said Falkenried, 
 still in the same voice. "Do you know what this 
 severity toward my only, my beloved child has cost 
 me?" 
 
 "Father!"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 43 
 
 The word sounded still timid and hesitating, but 
 no longer with the old fear and awe; it now con- 
 tained something like budding faith and trust; like 
 a happy but half-comprehended surprise, and with it 
 Hartmut's eyes hung as if riveted upon his father's 
 features. Falkenried now put his hand upon his 
 son's arm, drawing him nearer, while he continued : 
 
 "I once had high ambitions, proud hopes of life, 
 great plans and aspirations, which came to an end 
 when a blow fell upon me from which I shall never 
 be able to rally. If I still aspire and struggle, it is 
 from a sense of duty and because of you, Hartmut. 
 In you centers all my ambition ; to make your future 
 great and happy is the only thing which I yet desire 
 of life ; and your future can be made great, my son, 
 for your gifts are extraordinary ones; your will is 
 strong in good as well as evil. But there is yet 
 something dangerous in your nature, which is less 
 your fault than your doom, and which must be taken 
 in hand in time, if it is not to develop and dash you 
 into destruction. I had to be severe to banish this 
 unfortunate tendency; it has not been easy for me." 
 
 The face of the youth was covered by a deep blush. 
 With panting breath he seemed to read every word 
 from his father's lips, and now he said in a whisper, 
 in which the suppressed joy could scarcely be hid- 
 den: 
 
 "I have not dared to love you so far. You have 
 always been so cold so unapproachable, and I " 
 
 He broke off and glanced up at his father, who 
 now put his arm around Hartmut's shoulders, draw- 
 ing him still closer to him. Then eyes looked deep 
 into eyes, and the voice of the iron man broke as he 
 said, lowly : 
 
 "You are my only child, Hartmut, the only thing
 
 44 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 which has remained to me from a dream of happi- 
 ness that dispersed in bitterness and disappointment. 
 I lost much at that time and have borne it ; but if I 
 should lose you you I could not bear it." 
 
 His arms closed around his son tightly, as if they 
 could never be detached. Hartmut had thrown 
 himself sobbing upon his father's breast, and father 
 and son held each other in a long, passionate em- 
 brace. 
 
 Both had forgotten that a shadow from the past 
 still stood threateningly and separatingly between 
 
 them. 
 
 ****** 
 
 In the meantime, Frau von Eschenhagen, in her 
 dining-room, was giving Willy a curtain lecture. 
 She had done so, in fact, this morning, but was of 
 the opinion that a double portion would not come 
 amiss in this case. The young heir looked com- 
 pletely crushed. He felt himself in the wrong, as 
 well toward his mother as toward his friend, and yet 
 he was quite blameless. He allowed himself to be 
 lectured patiently, like an obedient son, only throw- 
 ing an occasional sad look over at the supper which 
 already stood upon the table, although his mother 
 did not take any notice of it at all. 
 
 "This is what comes of having secrets behind the 
 backs of parents," she said severely, concluding her 
 lecture. 
 
 "Hartmut is getting what he deserves in yonder ; 
 the Major will not treat him very mildly. I think 
 you will let playing helpmate in such, a plot alone in 
 the future." 
 
 "But I have not helped in it," Willy defended 
 himself. "I had only promised to be silent and I 
 had to keep my word."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 45 
 
 "You ought not dare to keep silence to your 
 mother; she is always an exception," Frau Regine 
 said decidedly. 
 
 "Yes, mamma, Hartmut probably thought so, too, 
 when it concerned his mother," remarked Willibald, 
 and the remark was so correct that she could not 
 well say anything against it; but that angered her 
 the more. 
 
 "That is different entirely different," she said 
 curtly ; but the young lord asked persistently : 
 
 "Why is it entirely different?" 
 
 "Boy, you will kill me yet with your questions and 
 talking," cried his mother angrily. "That is an 
 affair which you do not and shall not understand. 
 It is bad enough that Hartmut has brought you in 
 connection with it at all. Now do you keep quiet, 
 and do not concern yourself further about it. Do 
 you hear?" 
 
 Willy was dutifully silent. It was perhaps the 
 first time in his life that he had been reproved for 
 too much talking; besides, his Uncle Wallmoden, 
 who had just returned from a drive, entered now. 
 
 "Falkenried has already arrived, I hear," he said, 
 approaching his sister. 
 
 "Yes," she replied. "He came immediately upon 
 receiving my letter." 
 
 "And how has he borne the news?" 
 
 "Outwardly very calm, but I saw only too well 
 how it rent his heartstrings. He is alone now with 
 Hartmut, and the storm will probably burst." 
 
 "I am sorry ; but I prophesied this turn of affairs 
 when I learned of Zalika's return. He ought to 
 have spoken then to Hartmut. Now I fear he will 
 but add a second mistake to the first one by trying to 
 accomplish a separation by force and dictating.
 
 46 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 This unfortunate obstinacy which knows only 'either 
 or' ! It is least of all in the right place here." 
 
 "Yes, the meeting yonder lasts too long for me," 
 said Frau von Eschenhagen with concern. "I shall 
 go and see how far the two have gotten, whether it 
 offends the Major or not. Remain here, Herbert ; I 
 shall return directly." 
 
 She left the room, which Wallmoden paced discon- 
 solately. His nephew sat alone at the supper table, 
 about which nobody seemed to think. He did not 
 dare to begin eating by himself, for a regular tur- 
 moil reigned to-day in Burgsdorf, and the Frau 
 Mamma was in a very ungracious mood. But for- 
 tunately she returned after a few minutes, and her 
 face was beaming with satisfaction. 
 
 "The affair is settled in the best way," she said in 
 her short and decided tone. "He has the boy in his 
 embrace. Hartmut is hanging upon his father's 
 neck, and the rest will arrange itself easily now. 
 God be praised ! And now you may eat your sup- 
 per, Willy. The confusion which has disturbed our 
 whole household has come to an end." 
 
 Willy did not allow himself to be told twice, but 
 made brisk use of the coveted permission. But 
 .Wallmoden shook his head and muttered : "If it 
 were only truly at an end !"
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 NEITHER Falkenried nor his son had noticed that 
 the door had been quietly opened and closed again. 
 Hartmut still clung to his father's neck. He seemed 
 to have lost in a moment all awe and reserve, and 
 was overwhelmingly lovable in his new-found, 
 stormy caresses, the charm of which the Major had 
 rightly feared would disarm him. He spoke but lit- 
 tle, but again and again he pressed his lips upon the 
 brow of his son, looking steadily into the beautiful 
 face, full of life, which pressed so close to his own. 
 
 Finally Hartmut asked in a low voice : "And my 
 mother?" 
 
 A shadow passed again over Falkenried's brow, 
 but he did not release his son from his arms. 
 
 "Your mother will leave Germany as soon as she 
 is convinced that she must in the future, as in the 
 past, stay away from you," he said, this time with- 
 out harshness, but with decision. "You may write 
 to her. I will allow a correspondence with certain 
 restrictions, but I cannot I dare not permit a per- 
 sonal intercourse." 
 
 "Father, think " 
 
 "I cannot, Hartmut ; it is impossible." 
 
 "Do you hate her, then, so very much ?" asked the 
 youth reproachfully. "You wished the separation 
 not my mother I know it from herself." 
 
 Falkenried's lips quivered. He was about to 
 speak the bitter words and tell his son that the sepa- 
 
 47
 
 48 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 ration had been at the command of honor; but he 
 looked again in those dark, inquiring eyes, and the 
 words died unspoken. He could not accuse the 
 mother to the son. 
 
 "Let that question rest," he replied gloomily; "I 
 cannot answer it to you. Perhaps you will learn my 
 reasons later and will understand them. I cannot 
 spare you the hard choice now. You can belong 
 only to one the other you must shun. Accept it as 
 a doom." 
 
 Hartmut bowed his head ; he might have felt that 
 nothing further could be gained. That the meet- 
 ings with his mother had to end when he returned to 
 the strict discipline of the school, he knew ; but now 
 a correspondence was permitted, which was more 
 than he had dared to hope for. 
 
 "Then I will tell mamma so," he said in a crest- 
 fallen way. "Now, since you know everything, I 
 may see her openly, may I not?" 
 
 The Major started; he had not considered this 
 possibility. 
 
 "When were you to see her again ?" he asked. 
 
 "To-day, at this hour, at the Burgsdorf pond. 
 She is surely awaiting me there now." 
 
 Falkenried seemed to battle with himself. A 
 warning voice arose in him not to allow this leave- 
 taking, yet he felt that to refuse would be cruel. 
 
 "Will you be back in two hours ?" he asked finally. 
 
 "Certainly, father; even earlier if you desire it." 
 
 "Go, then," said the Major, with a deep breath. 
 One could hear how reluctant was the permission 
 which his sense of duty forced from him. "We 
 shall drive home as soon as you return. Your vaca- 
 tion ends shortly, anyway." 
 
 Hartmut, who was just about to leave, came to a
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 49 
 
 standstill. The words recalled to him what he had 
 entirely forgotten in the last half hour : the discipline 
 and severity of the service which was awaiting him. 
 Heretofore he had not dared to betray his aversion to 
 it openly, but this hour which banished the awe of 
 his father broke also the seal from his lips. Obey- 
 ing a sudden impulse, he turned and put his arms 
 again around the neck of his father. 
 
 "I have a request," he whispered, "a great, great 
 request which you must grant me ; and I know you 
 will do it as a proof that you love me." 
 
 A furrow appeared between the Major's eyebrows 
 as he asked with slight reproach: "Do you require 
 proofs of it ? Well, let's hear it." 
 
 Hartmut nestled still more closely to him; his 
 voice had again that sweet, coaxing sound which 
 made his prayers so irresistible, and the dark eyes 
 implored intensely, beseechingly. 
 
 "Do not let me become a soldier, father. I do not 
 love the calling for which you have decided me. I 
 shall never learn to love it. If I have bowed until 
 now to your will, it has been with aversion, with 
 secret grumbling, and I have been unbearably un- 
 happy, only I did not dare to confess it to you." 
 
 The furrow on Falkenried's brow sank deeper, 
 and he released his son slowly from his embrace. 
 
 "That means, in other words, that you do not like 
 to obey," he said harshly, "and just that is more im- 
 portant to you than to any one else." 
 
 "But I cannot bear any compulsion," Hartmut 
 burst forth passionately, "and the military service is 
 nothing but duty and fetters. To obey always and 
 eternally never to have a will of your own to bow 
 day after day to an iron discipline and strict, cold 
 forms by which every individual movement is sup-
 
 50 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 pressed. I cannot bear it any longer. Everything in 
 me demands freedom for light and life. Let me go, 
 father ; do not keep me any longer in these bonds. I 
 die I suffocate under them." 
 
 To a man, who was heart and soul a soldier, he 
 could not have done his cause greater harm than by 
 these imprudent words. It sounded like a stormy, 
 glowing prayer. His arm yet lay around his father's 
 neck, but Falkenried now straightened himself sud- 
 denly and pushed him back. 
 
 "I should consider the service an honor and no 
 fetter," he said cuttingly. "It is sad that I should 
 have to recall that to my son's mind. Freedom 
 light life ! You think perhaps that one can throw 
 himself at seventeen years into life and grasp all its 
 treasures. The longed-for freedom for you would 
 be only recklessness, ruin, destruction." 
 
 "And what if it should be so !" cried Hartmut, to- 
 tally beside himself. "Better go to ruin in freedom 
 than to live in this depression. To me it is a chain 
 a fetter slavery- " 
 
 "Be silent ! not a word further," commanded Falk- 
 enried so threateningly that the youth grew silent 
 despite his awful excitement. "You have no choice, 
 and take care that you do not forget your duty. You 
 must become an officer and fulfill your duty com- 
 pletely as does every one of your comrades. When 
 you are of age, I no longer have any power to hinder 
 you. You may then resign, even if it give me my 
 deathblow to see my only son flee the service." 
 
 "Father, do you consider me a coward?" Hart- 
 mut burst forth. "I could stand a war I could 
 fight " 
 
 "You would fight foolhardily and rush blindly 
 into every danger; and with this obstinacy which
 
 THE StGtt OF FLAME. 51 
 
 knows no discipline you would destroy yourself and 
 your men. I know this wild, boundless desire for 
 freedom and life to which no barrier, no duty is 
 sacred. I know from whom you have inherited it 
 and where it will finally lead; therefore I keep you 
 securely in the 'fetters,' no matter whether you hate 
 it or not. You shall learn to obey and to bow your 
 will while yet there is time; and you shall learn it. 
 I pledge my word to that." 
 
 Again the old, inflexible harshness sounded in his 
 voice ; every line of tenderness, of softness, had dis- 
 appeared, and Hartmut knew his father too well to 
 continue supplication or defiance. He did not an- 
 swer a syllable, but his eyes glowed again with that 
 demoniac spark which robbed him of all his beauty ; 
 and around his lips, which were pressed closely to- 
 gether, there settled a strange, bad expression as he 
 now turned to go. 
 
 The Major's eyes followed him. Again the warn- 
 ing voice came to him like a presentiment of evil, and 
 he called his son back. 
 
 "Hartmut, you are sure to be back in time? You 
 give me your word?" 
 
 "Yes, father." The answer sounded grim, but 
 firm. 
 
 "Very well. I shall trust you as a man. I let 
 you go in peace with this promise which you have 
 given me. Be punctual." 
 
 Hartmut had been gone but a few moments when 
 Wallmoden entered. 
 
 "Are you alone?" he asked, somewhat surprised. 
 "I did not wish to disturb you, but I saw Hartmut 
 hasten through the garden just now. Where was 
 he going so late?" 
 
 "To his mother, to take leave of her."
 
 52 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 The Secretary started at this news. "With your 
 consent ?" he asked quickly. 
 
 "Certainly, I have permitted him to go." 
 
 "How imprudent ! I should think that you knew 
 now how Zalika manages to get her own way, and 
 yet you leave your son to her mercy." 
 
 "For only half an hour to say farewell. I could 
 not refuse that. What do you fear? Surely no 
 force. Hartmut is no longer a child to be borne into 
 a carriage and carried off in spite of his resistance." 
 
 "But if he should not refuse a flight?" 
 
 "I have his word that he will return in two hours," 
 said the Major with emphasis. 
 
 "The word of a seventeen-year-old lad !" 
 
 "Who has been raised a soldier and who knows 
 the importance of a word of honor. That gives me 
 no care ; my fear lies in another direction." 
 
 "Regine told me that you were reconciled," re- 
 marked Wallmoden, with a glance upon the still 
 clouded brow of his friend. 
 
 "For a few moments only; after that I had to be- 
 come again the firm, severe father. This hour has 
 showed me how hard the task is to bend, to educate 
 this roving nature. Nevertheless I shall conquer 
 him." 
 
 The Secretary approached the window and looked 
 out in the garden. 
 
 "It is twilight already, and the Burgsdorf pond is 
 half an hour's distance," he said, half aloud. "You 
 ought to have allowed the rendezvous only in your 
 presence, if it had to take place." 
 
 "And see Zalika again? Impossible! I could 
 not and would not do that." 
 
 "But if the leave-taking end differently from what 
 you expect if Hartmut does not return ?"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 53 
 
 "Then he would be a scoundrel to break his 
 word!" burst out Falkenried; "a deserter, for he 
 carries the sword already at his side. Do not offend 
 me with such thoughts, Herbert; it is my son of 
 whom you speak." 
 
 "He is also Zalika's son ; but do not let us quarrel 
 about that now. They await you in the dining 
 room. And you will really leave us to-day ?" 
 
 "Yes, in two hours," the Major said, calmly and 
 firmly. "Hartmut will have returned by that time. 
 My word stands for that."
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE gray shadows of twilight were gathering in 
 forest and field, becoming closer and denser with 
 every moment. The short, foggy autumn day drew 
 near its close. Through the heavy-clouded sky the 
 night lowered sooner than usual. 
 
 A female figure paced impatiently and restlessly 
 up and down the bank of the Burgsdorf pond. She 
 had drawn the dark cloak tightly around her shoul- 
 ders, but was unmindful of her shivering, caused by 
 the cold evening air. Her whole manner was fever- 
 ish expectation and intense listening for the sound 
 of a step which could not as yet be heard. 
 
 Zalika had arranged the meetings with her son for 
 a later hour, when it was desolate and dim in the 
 forest, since the day Willibald had surprised them 
 and had to be admitted into the secret. They had 
 parted, however, before dark, so that Hartmut's late 
 return should not cause suspicion at Burgsdorf. He 
 had always been punctual, but now his mother had 
 waited in vain for an hour. 
 
 Did a trifle detain him, or was the secret betrayed ? 
 One had to expect that, since a third party knew it. 
 
 Deathlike silence reigned in the forest; the dry 
 leaves alone rustled beneath the hem of the gown of 
 the restlessly moving woman. 
 
 Night shades already lingered under the tree-tops ; 
 a cloud of mist floated over the pond where it was 
 lighter and more open; and over there where the 
 
 64
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 55 
 
 water was bordered by a marsh, whitish-gray veils 
 of mist arose yet more thickly. The wind blew 
 damp and cold from over there, like the air of a 
 vault. A light footstep finally sounded at a dis- 
 tance, coming nearer in the direction of the pond 
 with flying haste. Now a slender figure appeared, 
 scarcely recognizable in the gathering dusk. 
 Zalika flew toward him, and in the next moment her 
 son was in her arms. 
 
 "What has happened?" she demanded, amidst 
 the usual stormy caresses. "Why do you come so 
 late? I had given up in despair seeing you to-day. 
 What kept you back?" 
 
 "I could not come any sooner," panted Hart- 
 mut, still breathless from his rapid run. "I come 
 from my father." 
 
 Zalika started. 
 
 "From your father? Then he knows " 
 
 "Everything." 
 
 "So he is at Burgsdorf? Since when? Who 
 notified him? 
 
 The young man, with fluttering breath, reported 
 what had happened, but he had not finished when 
 the bitter laugh of his mother interrupted him. 
 
 "Naturally they are all in the plot when it con- 
 cerns the tearing of my child from me. And your 
 father, he has probably threatened and punished 
 and made you suffer for the heavy crime of having 
 been in the arms of your mother?" 
 
 Hartmut shook his head. 
 
 The remembrance of that moment when his 
 father drew him to his breast stood firm, in spite 
 of the bitterness with which that scene had 
 ended. 
 
 "No," he said in a low voice; "but he com-
 
 56 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 manded me not to see you again, and requested ir- 
 revocable separation from you." 
 
 "And yet you are here? Oh, I knew it!" 
 
 The exclamation was full of joyous victory. 
 
 "Do not triumph too soon, mamma," said the 
 youth bitterly. "I came only to say farewell." 
 
 "Hartmut!" 
 
 "Father knows it. He allowed me this meet- 
 ing, and then " 
 
 "Then he will grasp you again, and you will be 
 lost to me forever, is it not so?" 
 
 Hartmut did not answer; he folded his mother 
 in his arms, and a wild, passionate sob, which had 
 in it as much of anger as pain, escaped his breast. 
 
 It had now grown quite dark; the night had 
 commenced; a cold, gloomy autumn night, with- 
 out moon or star shining, but over there upon the 
 marsh where lately the veils of mist floated, some- 
 thing now shot up with a bluish light, glimmering 
 dimly in the fog, but growing brighter and clearer 
 like a flame; now appearing, now disappearing, and 
 with it a second and a third. The will-o'-the-wisp 
 had commenced its ghostly, uncanny play. 
 
 "You weep," cried Zalika, pressing her son closely 
 to her; "but I have seen it coming long ago, and if 
 your Eschenhagen had not betrayed us, the day 
 you had to return to your father would have 
 brought your forced choice between separation or 
 decision." 
 
 "What decision? What do you mean?" asked 
 Hartmut, perplexed. 
 
 Zalika bent over him, and, although they were 
 alone, her voice sank to a whisper. 
 
 "Will you bow feebly and defenselessly to a 
 tyranny which tears asunder the sacred bond b$-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 57 
 
 tween mother and child, and which stamps under 
 foot our rights as well as our love? If you can do 
 that, you are not my son ; you have inherited nothing 
 of the blood that flows in my veins. He sent you to 
 bid me farewell, and you accept it patiently as a last 
 favor. Have you really come to take leave of me, 
 perhaps for years ? Actually, have you ?" 
 
 "I have to," interrupted the youth despairingly. 
 "You know father and his iron will. Is there any 
 possibility of anything else?" 
 
 "If you return to him, no. But who forces you?" 
 
 "Mamma, for God's sake!" shrieked Hartmut, 
 terrified. But the encircling arms did not release 
 him, and the hot, passionate whisper again reached 
 his ear : 
 
 "What frightens you so at the thought? You 
 will only go with your mother, who loves you devot- 
 edly, and who will henceforth live for you alone. 
 You have told me repeatedly that you hate the voca- 
 tion which is forced upon you, that you languish 
 with longing for freedom. There is no choice there 
 for you ; when you return your father will keep you 
 irrevocably in the fetters. If he knew that you 
 would die of them, he would not let you free." 
 
 She had no need to tell that to her son ; he knew 
 it better than she did. Only an hour ago he had 
 seen the full inflexibility of his father, his hard "You 
 shall learn to obey and bow your will." 
 
 His voice was almost smothered in bitterness as 
 he answered : "Nevertheless, I must return. I have 
 given my word to be back at Burgsdorf in two 
 hours." 
 
 "Really," said Zalika, sharply and sarcastically; 
 "I thought so. Usually you are nothing but a boy, 
 whose every step is prescribed ; whose every moment
 
 58 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 
 
 counted out; who ought not even to have his own 
 thoughts ; but as soon as the retaining of you is con- 
 cerned, you are given the independence of a man. 
 Very well ; now show that you are not only grown in 
 words, but that you can also act like a man. A 
 forced promise has no value. Tear asunder this in- 
 vincible chain with which they want to bind you and 
 make yourself free." 
 
 "No no," murmured Hartmut, with a renewed 
 attempt to free himself. But he did not succeed. 
 He only turned his face and looked with fixed eyes 
 out into the night, into the desolate, silent forest 
 darkness and over yonder where the will-o'-the-wisp 
 still carried on its ghostly dance. 
 
 Those quivering, tremulous flames appeared now 
 everywhere; seeming to seek and flee from each 
 other, they floated over the ground, disappearing or 
 dissolving in the ocean of fog, only to reappear 
 again and again. There was something ghastly yet 
 fascinating in this spectre-like play; the demoniac 
 charm of the depths which that treacherous mire 
 concealed. 
 
 "Come with me, my Hartmut," implored Zalika, 
 now in those sweet, coaxing tones which were so 
 effectively at hers as well as at her son's command. 
 "I have foreseen everything and prepared for it. I 
 knew that a day like this had to come. My carriage 
 awaits me half an hour's distance from here. It 
 will take us to the next station, and before anybody 
 at Burgsdorf thinks you will not return, the train 
 will have carried us into the far country. There are 
 freedom, light and happiness. I will lead you out 
 into the great distant world, and after you know 
 that, you will breathe with relief and shout like a re- 
 deemed man. I myself know how one released
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 59 
 
 feels. I too have borne that chain which I riveted 
 myself in foolish error, but I would have broken it 
 in the first year but for you. Oh, it is sweet, this 
 freedom. You will feel it, too/' 
 
 She knew only too well how to succeed. Free- 
 dom, life, light! These words found a thousand- 
 fold echo in the heart of the young man, whose pas- 
 sionate thirst for freedom had been so far sup- 
 pressed. This promised life shone with a magic 
 splendor like a beacon before him. He needed only 
 to stretch forth his hand and it was his. 
 
 "My promise," he murmured with a last attempt 
 to gather strength. ''Father will look at me with 
 contempt if " 
 
 "If you have reached a great, proud future?" 
 Zalika interrupted him passionately. "Then you 
 can go before him and ask if he dares consider you 
 with contempt. He would keep you upon the 
 ground while you have wings which will carry you 
 high up. He does not understand a nature like 
 yours; he will never learn to understand it. Will 
 you languish and go to ruin for only a word's sake ? 
 Go with me, my Hartmut with me, to whom you 
 are all in all out into freedom." 
 
 She drew him along, slowly but irresistibly. He 
 still resisted, but did not tear himself away; and 
 amidst the prayers and caresses of his mother this 
 resistance slowly gave way he followed. 
 
 A few moments later the pond lay wholly de- 
 serted; mother and son had disappeared; the sound 
 of their steps died away. Night and silence brooded 
 alone. Only over yonder in the fog of the marsh 
 fluttered that noiseless spectral life. It floated and 
 vanished, rose and sank again in restless play the 
 mysterious sign of flame.
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE warm, golden light of a clear September day 
 lay over the green ocean of forest, which stretched as 
 far as the eye could reach. These immense forests 
 had covered this part of Southern Germany for 
 countless years ; trees one hundred years old were no 
 rarity among them. The whole bore the character 
 of a mountainous forest, for hills and dales suc- 
 ceeded one another. 
 
 While the railroads spun their web all around the 
 country, drawing one place after another within 
 their grasp, this "Wald," as these miles and miles of 
 wooded land were briefly called by the people, lay 
 still and deserted, like a green island, almost un- 
 touched by the life and strife around. 
 
 Here and there a village rose from the forest 
 green, or an old castle, almost in ruins, gray and 
 dilapidated. There was one exception to it, in a 
 powerful, old, gray edifice which stood upon a height 
 and overlooked the whole vicinity. This was 
 "Furstenstein," once the hunting lodge of the sov- 
 ereign, but at present the habitation of the Chief of 
 all the foresters. 
 
 The castle dated from the beginning of the last 
 century and had been built with all the waste of 
 
 60
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 61 
 
 space of that epoch when the hunting lodge of the 
 Prince had to accommodate for weeks the whole 
 court suite. 
 
 Furstenstein was only partly visible at a distance, 
 for the forest covered all the castle mount, the gray 
 walls, the steeples and bow windows lifting them- 
 selves from among the crown of green firs. The 
 size of the old structure was only apparent when one 
 stood before the entrance portal, for many additions 
 belonging to later times were attached to it. It was 
 to be understood that decay here was carefully kept 
 back, for the numerous rooms of the upper floors 
 were kept in readiness for the commands of the 
 Prince, who came here occasionally in the fall. 
 
 The similarly extensive lower floor was given to 
 the chief of the forest department, Herr von Scho- 
 nan, who had lived here for years, and who knew 
 how to make the loneliness agreeable by keeping a 
 very hospitable house and by frequent sociable visit- 
 ings in the neighborhood. 
 
 He was entertaining guests at present. His sis- 
 ter-in-law, Frau Regine von Eschenhagen, had ar- 
 rived yesterday, and her son was also expected. 
 
 The two daughters of the house of Wallmoden 
 had made very desirable matches, the elder one 
 marrying the lord of the Burgsdorf estates and the 
 younger one Herr von Schonan, who belonged to a 
 wealthy South German family. In spite of the dis- 
 tance separating them, the sisters and their families 
 had remained in intimate association, and even after 
 the death of the younger one, which had occurred 
 several years previously, these family connections 
 were continued. 
 
 This friendship, however, had a quality of its 
 own, for Herr von Schonan was always on the war-
 
 162 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 path with his sister-in-law. As both natures were 
 terse and inconsiderate they came to a tussle at 
 every opportunity, made up regularly, deciding to 
 keep the peace in future, but the promise was broken 
 just as regularly. A new difference of opinion 
 would come up in the next hour, the dispute would 
 be carried on with fullest passion, until it again 
 raged with undiminished power. 
 
 Just at present a very unusual harmony seemed to 
 prevail between the two, who sat upon the terrace 
 before the entrance room. 
 
 The Chief Forester, who in spite of his advanced 
 years, was still a very stately man, with strong, sun- 
 burned features and slightly gray but thick hair and 
 beard, was leaning comfortably back in his chair, 
 listening to his sister-in-law, who, as usual, was 
 monopolizing the conversation. 
 
 Frau Regine was now near her fiftieth year, but 
 had scarcely changed in the last decade. The years 
 could not make much impression upon her strong 
 physique; a little wrinkle perhaps here and there in 
 the face, a few silver threads mingled with the dark 
 hair; but the gray eyes had lost none of their keen 
 clearness; the voice was as full and steady, the car- 
 riage just as energetic as formerly. It was very evi- 
 dent that the lady bore the sceptre in her domain 
 now as before. 
 
 "As I said, Willy will be here in a week," she was 
 saying. "He had not quite finished with his har- 
 vest work, but it will soon end, and then he will be 
 ready for the betrothal. The affair has long been 
 settled between us, but I decidedly advocated the 
 delay, for a young girl of sixteen or seventeen years 
 has all sorts of childish tricks still in her head, and 
 cannot preside well over an orderly household. But
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 63 
 
 Antonie is now twenty years old and Willy twenty- 
 seven ; this suits exactly. You are satisfied, are you 
 not, brother, that we now arrange the betrothal of 
 our children?" 
 
 ''Quite satisfied," affirmed the Chief Forester; 
 "and we are of the same opinion in all else concern- 
 ing it. Half of my money will fall to my son after 
 my death, the other half to my daughter, and you 
 can also be at rest about the dower which I have set 
 apart for the wedding." 
 
 "Yes, you have not been stingy about it. As to 
 Willy, you know he has had possession of the Burgs- 
 dorf estates for three years. The money, according 
 to the will, remains in my hands. After my death it 
 will, of course, fall to him. The young couple will 
 not be in need. Sufficient care has been taken for 
 that ; therefore all is decided." 
 
 "Yes, decided. We will celebrate the betrothal 
 now and the wedding in the spring." 
 
 The thus far clear sky was darkened now by the 
 first cloud. Frau von Eschenhagen shook her head 
 and said dictatorially : 
 
 "That will not do, the wedding must occur in the 
 winter, for Willy will not have time to marry in the 
 spring." 
 
 "Nonsense! One always has time to marry," de- 
 clared Schonan, just as dictatorially. 
 
 "Not in the country," persisted Frau Regine; 
 "there the motto is, first work and then pleasure. It 
 has always been so with us, and Willy has learned 
 it, too." 
 
 "But I emphatically beg that he will make an ex- 
 ception in the case of his young wife, otherwise the 
 deuce may take him !" cried the Chief angrily. "Be- 
 s,ides, you know my conditions, Regine. My girl
 
 64 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 has not seen your son for two years ; if he does not 
 please her, she shall have a free choice." 
 
 He had attacked his sister-in-law in a most sensi- 
 tive spot. She straightened herself to her fullest 
 height in her offended motherly pride. 
 
 "My dear Moritz, I credit your daughter with 
 some taste at least. Besides, I believe in the old 
 custom of parents choosing for their children. It 
 was so in our time and we have fared well with it. 
 What do young people know of such important 
 things? But you have always allowed your chil- 
 dren their own way too much. One can see there is 
 no mother in the house." 
 
 "Is that my fault?" demanded Schonan, angrily. 
 "Should I have given them a stepmother? In fact, 
 I wished to once, but you would not consent to it, 
 Regine." 
 
 "No, I had enough of marriage with one trial/' 
 was the dry answer, which roused the Forester still 
 more. He shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. 
 
 "Why, I shouldn't think that you could possibly 
 complain of the late Eschenhagen. He and all his 
 Burgsdorf danced entirely after your piping. Of 
 course, you would not have gotten the upper hand 
 of me so easily." 
 
 "But I should have had it in a month," remarked 
 Frau Regine with perfect composure, "and I should 
 have taken you under my command first of all, 
 Moritz." 
 
 "What! you tell me this to my face? Shall we 
 try it, then?" shouted Schonan in a passion. 
 
 "Thank you, I shall not marry a second time. 
 Do not trouble yourself." 
 
 "I have not the slightest idea of it. I had enough 
 of it with that one jilting; you do not need to do it
 
 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 65 
 
 a second time"; with which the Chief Forester 
 pushed back his chair angrily and left. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen remained quietly seated. 
 After awhile she called in a quite friendly manner : 
 "Moritzl" 
 
 "What is it?" sounded crossly from the other side 
 of the terrace. 
 
 "When is Herbert to come with his young 
 wife?" 
 
 "At twelve o'clock," came the curt reply. 
 
 "I am glad of that. I have not seen him since he 
 was sent to your capitol, but I have always said that 
 Herbert was the pride of our family, whom one 
 could parade anywhere. He is now Prussian Am- 
 bassador to His Excellency at your court." 
 
 "And a young husband of fifty-six years, besides," 
 said Herr von Schonan scornfully. 
 
 "Yes, he took his time to marry, but then he has 
 made a splendid match for all that. It was surely 
 no little thing for a man of his years to win a wife 
 like Adelaide, young, beautiful, rich " 
 
 "And of burgher descent," interrupted Schonan. 
 
 "Nonsense! Who asks nowadays after a pedi- 
 gree when a million is involved. Herbert can make 
 use of it. He has had to get along with small 
 means all of his life, and the position of ambassador 
 will require more display than the salary will admit 
 of. And my brother does not need to be ashamed 
 of his father-in-law, for Stahlberg is one of our first 
 industry men and a man of honor from tip to toe, 
 besides. It was a pity that he died after the mar- 
 riage of his daughter, for she has surely made a 
 sensible choice." 
 
 "Pouf ! You call it a sensible choice when a girl 
 of eighteen takes a husband who could be her
 
 06 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 father?" cried the Chief, drawing near in the heat 
 of the controversy. "Of course when one becomes 
 a baroness and the wife of the Prussian Ambassa- 
 dor, one plays a big role in society. This beautiful, 
 cool Adelaide, with her 'sensible' ideas which would 
 do credit to a grandmother, is not congenial to me 
 at all. A sensible girl who falls heels over head in 
 love and declares to her parents, This one or none at 
 all,' is much more to my taste." 
 
 "Well, these are beautiful ideas for a father!" 
 cried Frau von Eschenhagen indignantly. "It is 
 exceedingly fortunate that Toni has taken after my 
 sister and not after you, for otherwise you might 
 live to see the like in her. Stahlberg raised his 
 daughter better. I know from himself that she 
 obeyed his wish when she gave her hand to Herbert, 
 and so, of course, it is all right and as it should be. 
 But you do not understand anything about educating 
 children." 
 
 "What! I, a man and a father, not understand 
 the bringing up of children?" shouted Schonan, 
 cherry-red with vexation. 
 
 The two were in the best possible condition to fly 
 at each other again, but fortunately they were inter- 
 rupted this time, for a young girl, the daughter of 
 the house, stepped out on the terrace. 
 
 Antonie von Schonan could not be called exactly 
 pretty, but she had a stately figure like her father 
 and a fresh, blooming face, with light brown eyes. 
 Her brown hair was folded in simple plaits around 
 her head and her dress, although suitable to her posi- 
 tion, was also plain. But Antonie was in those 
 years when youth displaced every other charm, and 
 as she drew near, fresh, healthy, stately in her whole 
 appearance, she was exactly the. daughter-in-law
 
 THE SIGK OF FLAME. 67 
 
 after Frau von Eschenhagen's own heart, and she 
 nodded in a friendly way to her. 
 
 "Father, the carriage is returning from the sta- 
 tion," said the young lady in a very deliberate, some- 
 what drawling tone. "It is already at the foot of 
 the castle mount. Uncle Wallmoden will be here in 
 fifteen minutes." 
 
 "What, tausend! They have driven like light- 
 ning!" exclaimed the Chief Forester, whose face 
 brightened at the news. "Are the rooms all in 
 order?" 
 
 Toni nodded as calmly as if that were a self-evi- 
 dent fact. As her father started off to look for the 
 carriage which was to bring his guests, Frau von 
 Eschenhagen said with a glance at the little basket 
 which the 3'oung girl carried : "Well Toni, you have 
 been busy again?" 
 
 "I have been in the kitchen garden, dear aunt. 
 The gardener insisted that there were no pears ripe 
 as yet, but I looked for myself and gathered a bas- 
 ketful." 
 
 "That is right, my child," said her future mother- 
 in-law, highly satisfied. "One must have her eyes 
 and hands everywhere, and never rely upon servants. 
 You will some day be a splendid housekeeper. But 
 now let us go. We will also meet the uncle."
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 HERR VON SCHONAN was already in advance and 
 just descending the wide stone steps which led to the 
 castle court, when a man emerged from one of the 
 side buildings and came to a standstill, bowing his 
 greeting respectfully. 
 
 "Hallo, Stadinger; what are you doing at Fur- 
 stenstein?" cried the Chief Forester. "Come up 
 here." 
 
 The man obeyed the command. He walked ac- 
 tively with firm, erect carriage, in spite of his snow- 
 white hair, and a pair of keen, dark eyes shone from 
 his tanned face. 
 
 "I have been with the Herr Steward, Herr Ober- 
 forstmeister," he replied, "to ask if he could not let 
 me have a few of his people to help me, for every- 
 thing is topsy-turvy with us at Rodeck just now. 
 We have not hands enough for the work." 
 
 "Ah, yes; Prince Egon has returned from his 
 travels in the Orient; I heard of it," said Schonan. 
 ''But how does it happen that he comes to Rodeck 
 this time, this small forest nook which offers neither 
 room nor comforts?" 
 
 "Heaven alone knows that; one never dares ask 
 why with our young Highness. The news came one 
 morning, and the castle had to be put in order, good 
 or bad. I have had pains and worry enough to get 
 ready in two days." 
 
 "I believe that. Rodeck has not been inhabited
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 69 
 
 for years, but now there will be life once more in the 
 old walls." 
 
 "But the old walls will be stood on their head with 
 it all," grumbled the castle keeper. "If you only 
 knew how it looks there, Herr Oberforstmeister. 
 The whole hunting hall is packed full of lion and 
 tiger skins and all manner of mounted animals, and 
 the live parrots and monkeys sit about in every room. 
 There is such a noise and making of faces that one 
 cannot hear a word at times ; and now His Highness 
 has announced to me, besides, that a whole herd of 
 elephants and a large sea serpent are on their way 
 here. I think apoplexy will overtake me." 
 
 "What is on the way here?" demanded Schonan, 
 who could not believe his ears. 
 
 "A sea serpent and a dozen elephants. I have 
 remonstrated with might and main. 'Your High- 
 ness,' I have said, 'we cannot house any more of the 
 beasts, particularly not the sea serpent, for such a 
 beast needs water, and we have no pond at Rodeck. 
 As to the elephants well, we will just have to tie 
 them to the trees in the forest. If we cannot do 
 that, I do not know what to do/ 'Good,' says His 
 Highness, 'we will tie them to the trees, it will be a 
 picturesque sight; and we will send the sea serpent 
 to board at Furstenstein. That pond is large 
 enough.' I beg of you, Herr Oberforstmeister, he 
 will populate the whole neighborhood with those 
 awful beasts." 
 
 The Chief Forester laughed aloud and patted the 
 shoulder of the old man, who seemed to enjoy his 
 special favor. 
 
 "But, Stadinger, did you really take that in ear- 
 nest ? Don't you know your Prince ? It seems that 
 he has not become more settled by his absence."
 
 70 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "No, really not," sighed Stadinger, "and what His 
 Highness does not know, Herr Rojanow will surely 
 find out. He makes it ten times worse. Oh, dread- 
 ful that such a madcap should fall to our lot !" 
 
 "Rojanow? Who is that?" asked Schonan, be- 
 coming attentive. 
 
 "Yes, that is what nobody knows exactly, but he 
 is everything with us since His Highness cannot 
 live without him. He found this friend somewhere 
 back there in the heathen lands. The friend him- 
 self may be half a heathen or a Turk; he looks just 
 like it, with his dark hair and his fiery eyes, and he 
 knows how to command from the very bottom. He 
 sometimes drives all the servants helter-skelter with 
 his orders and actions, as if he was lord and master 
 of Rodeck. But he is handsome as a picture al- 
 most more so than our Prince, who has given strict 
 orders that his friend has to be obeyed like him- 
 self." 
 
 "Probably some adventurer who takes advantage 
 of the Prince. I can imagine that," muttered Scho- 
 nan, continuing aloud: "Well, may God help you, 
 Stadinger ! I must go now to meet my brother-in- 
 law. Do not let any gray hairs grow on account of 
 the sea-serpent. If His Highness threatens you 
 with it again, just tell him I would offer the Fur- 
 stenstein pond with pleasure, but I must see it alive 
 before me first." 
 
 He nodded laughingly at the old man, who looked 
 much comforted, and walked toward the entrance 
 portal. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen and her niece had also ap- 
 peared, and the carriage now came in sight upon 
 the broad forest road of the castle mount, rolling, a 
 few minutes later, into the castle court.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. ?1 
 
 Regine was the first to greet them. She shook 
 her brother's hand so heartily that he drew back 
 with a slight shudder. The Chief Forester remained 
 in the background; he stood somewhat in awe of 
 his diplomatic brother-in-law, whose sarcasm he 
 secretly feared; while Toni allowed neither her 
 uncle, His Excellency, nor his beautiful wife to rouse 
 her from her composed deliberation. 
 
 The years had not passed Herbert von Wall- 
 moden by as lightly as they had his sister; he had 
 aged considerably; his hair had turned quite gray, 
 and the sarcastic lines around his mouth had become 
 more pronounced; otherwise he was still the cool, 
 aristocratic diplomat perhaps a few degrees cooler 
 and more reticent than formerly. The superiority 
 which he had borne to his surroundings seemed to 
 have grown with the high position which he filled 
 at present. 
 
 The young wife at his side would probably have 
 been taken by every stranger for his daughter. He 
 had truly shown good taste in his choice. 
 
 Adelaide von Wallmoden was, indeed, beautiful, 
 although of that composed, serious beauty which 
 usually aroused only calm admiration, but she seemed 
 equal in every respect to the high position in life 
 brought her by this marriage. 
 
 The young wife, scarcely nineteen years old, and 
 who had been married but six months, showed per- 
 fect ease of manner an unexceptional mastery of 
 all forms, as if she had lived for years beside her 
 elderly husband. 
 
 To his wife Wallmoden was politeness and atten- 
 tion personified. He now offered his arm to lead 
 her to her room, returning in a few minutes to join 
 his sister, who awaited him on the terrace.
 
 72 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 The attitude of these two to each other was in 
 many respects a strange one. The brother and sis- 
 ter were of the most pronounced opposites in appear- 
 ance as well as character, and usually of opinion as 
 well ; but the blood relationship gave them, in spite 
 of this difference, a feeling of closest union. This 
 was evident as they sat together now after the long 
 separation. 
 
 Although Herbert was somewhat nervous during 
 the conversation, for Regine did not find it neces- 
 sary to subdue her peculiar manner, causing him 
 embarrassment more than once with her inconsid- 
 erate questions and remarks, he had long ago learned 
 to consider that as unavoidable, and surrendered 
 himself to it now with a sigh. 
 
 At first they spoke of the coming betrothal of 
 Willibald and Toni, which had Wallmoden's full 
 approval. He thought the match very suitable, and 
 besides, every one in the family had been long ac- 
 quainted with it. 
 
 But now Frau von Eschenhagen began an en- 
 tirely different subject. "Well, and how do you feel 
 as a husband, Herbert?" she asked. "You have cer- 
 tainly taken your time for it, but better late than 
 never, and to speak the truth, you have had extraor- 
 dinarily good luck in spite of your gray hair." 
 
 The Ambassador did not seem very well pleased at 
 this allusion to his age. He pressed his thin lips 
 together for a moment, and then replied with some 
 sharpness : "You should really be a little more care- 
 ful in your expressions, dear Regine. I know my 
 age very well, but the position in life which I brought 
 my wife as a wedding gift should counteract the 
 difference of the years somewhat." 
 
 "Well, I should think the dowry she brought you
 
 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 73 
 
 was not to be slighted," remarked Regine, quite un- 
 concerned as to the rebuke. "Have you already 
 presented her at court?" 
 
 "Yes, two weeks ago, at the Summer Residenz. 
 Mourning for my father-in-law prevented it before. 
 We shall have open house in the winter as my posi- 
 tion requires. I was most pleasantly surprised at 
 Adelaide's manner at court. She moved upon the 
 strange ground with an ease and composure which 
 were truly admirable. I saw there again how happy 
 my choice was in every respect. But I wish to in- 
 quire after several things at home. First of all, 
 how is Falkenried?" 
 
 "Surely you do not need to ask me that? Are 
 you not in regular correspondence with him?" 
 
 "Yes, but his letters grow shorter and more mono- 
 syllabic. I wrote him at length about my marriage, 
 but received only a very laconic reply. But you 
 must see him frequently, since he has been called to 
 the position of Secretary of War. The city is near." 
 
 "You are mistaken there. The Colonel shows 
 himself very rarely at Burgsdorf, and he is becom- 
 ing more and more reticent and unapproachable." 
 
 "I am sorry to hear that; but he used always to 
 make an exception of you, and I hoped much from 
 your influence since he is back in your vicinity. 
 Have you not tried, then, to renew the old inti- 
 macy ?" 
 
 "I did at first, but finally had to give it up, for 
 I saw that it was painful to him. Nothing can be 
 done there, Herbert. Since that unfortunate catas- 
 trophe which both of us lived through with him he 
 has changed into stone. You have seen him several 
 times since then and know the ruin that has worked 
 there."
 
 74 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Wallmoden's brow clouded and his voice was 
 harsh as he returned : "Yes, that scoundrel that 
 Hartmut lies heavy upon his heart, but more than 
 ten years have passed since then, and I hoped that 
 Falkenried would return to sociable life in time." 
 
 "I have never had that hope; that blow went to 
 the root of life. I shall never forget that evening at 
 Burgsdorf while I live. How we waited and waited 
 first with restlessness and anxiety, then with dead- 
 ly fear. You guessed the truth directly, but I would 
 not permit myself to believe it and Falkenried! 
 I can see him yet as he stood at the window, looking 
 fixedly out into the night pale as a corpse, with 
 teeth tightly clenched, having for every fear ex- 
 pressed the one reply, 'He will come he must come. 
 I have his word for it.' And when, in spite of all, 
 Hartmut did not come when the night wore on and 
 we finally learned upon inquiry at the railroad sta- 
 tion that the two had arrived there in a carriage and 
 taken the express train God in heaven ! How the 
 man looked when he turned to leave, so mute and 
 stiff ! I made you promise not to leave his side, for 
 I believed that he would blow his brains out." 
 
 "You judged him wrongly," said Wallmoden de- 
 cisively. "A man like Falkenried considers it cow- 
 ardice to lay hands on his life, even if that life has 
 become torture to him. He stands up even to a lost 
 post. Although what would have happened if they 
 had let him go that time I do not dare to surmise." 
 
 "Yes, I knew that he had asked for his dismissal, 
 because to serve after his son had become a deserter 
 did not accord with his ideas of honor. It was the 
 step of despair." 
 
 "Yes, truly; and it was fortunate that his chiefs 
 would not dispense with his military genius and
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 75 
 
 force. The chief of the general's staff took the af- 
 fair in his own hands and brought it before the king. 
 They concluded finally to treat the whole unfortu- 
 nate occurrence at least as far as it could concern 
 the father as the act of a heedless boy, for which 
 a highly deserving officer could not be held account- 
 able. Falkenried had to take back his request for 
 resignation, was transferred into a far-away garri- 
 son, and the affair silenced as much as was possible. 
 It is, indeed, buried and forgotten now after ten 
 years by all the world." 
 
 "It is not forgotten by one," finished Regine. 
 "My heart burns sometimes when I think of what 
 Falkenried was once, and what he is now. The 
 bitter experience of his marriage had made him 
 rather serious and unsocial, but occasionally the full 
 charming amiability of his manner would break 
 through, warm and hearty, from his inmost heart 
 all that is over. He knows now only the iron sever- 
 ity of duty a/1 else is dead. Even the old friendly 
 relations have become painful to him. One has to 
 let him go his own way." 
 
 She broke off with a sigh, which betrayed how 
 near to her heart was the friend of her youth, and 
 laying her hand upon the arm of her brother, she 
 continued : "Perhaps you are right, Herbert, in 
 that one chooses best and most sensibly in late years. 
 Yo do not need to fear the fate of Falkenried. Your 
 wife comes from a good race. I knew Stahlberg 
 well. He had worked up to the heights of life with 
 firmness and ability, and even as a millionaire he 
 remained the upright man of honor he had ever 
 been. Adelaide is the daughter of her father in 
 every respect. You have chosen well and you 
 my heartfelt wishes for your happiness,"
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 RODECK, the hunting lodge belonging to the pos- 
 sessions of the Prince of Adelsberg, was about two 
 hours' distance from Furstenstein, in the midst of 
 deepest forest loneliness. The small building, 
 erected without much taste, contained at the most 
 about a dozen rooms, whose old-fashioned and 
 shabby furniture had been put in as good order as 
 the short notice of the coming of the Prince per- 
 mitted. 
 
 The little castle had not been inhabited for years 
 and looked somewhat dilapidated, but when one 
 emerged from the deep, dark forest into the opening, 
 and beheld at the end of the wide green sward the 
 old gray edifice with its tall, spiked roof and four 
 steeples at the corners, it had truly something of the 
 forest idyl about it. 
 
 The Adelsbergs had once been a reigning family, 
 but a family that had long since lost its sovereignty. 
 They had retained, however, the princely title, an 
 enormous fortune, and a very extensive property. 
 The once numerous family counted at present but 
 few representatives; the main branch only a single 
 one the Prince Egon, who, as lord of all the family 
 estates, besides being closely related to the reigning 
 house through his late mother, played an important 
 role among the nobility of the land. 
 
 The young Prince had always been considered a 
 
 76
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. W 
 
 rover, who at times followed very eccentric notions 
 and bothered himself very little about princely eti- 
 quette when he wished to follow some momentary 
 whim. The old Prince had been very strict with his 
 son, but his death made Egon von Adelsberg the 
 sole master of his own will very early in life. 
 
 He had now returned from a tour in the Orient 
 which had kept him in foreign lands two years, but 
 instead of occupying the princely palace in town, or 
 one of his other castles which were furnished with 
 every conceivable splendor for a summer or fall 
 visit, he took a notion to go to the old forest nook 
 the little half-forgotten Rodeck which was not pre- 
 pared for the honor of receiving its master, and 
 could offer but scant accommodation. 
 
 Old Stadinger was right: one must never ask 
 Prince Egon why. Everything depended entirely 
 upon his momentary caprice. 
 
 In the morning of a sunny autumn day, two gen- 
 tlemen in hunting costume stood upon the lawn at 
 Rodeck talking with the castle-keeper, while a light 
 open carriage stood upon the gravel road, ready for 
 departure. At a casual glance the two young men 
 bore a certain resemblance to each other. They had 
 tall, slender figures, deeply tanned faces, and eyes in 
 which glowed the whole fiery gayety and courage of 
 youth, but upon closer examination the wide differ- 
 ence between them was apparent. 
 
 The Southern coloring of the younger one, who 
 might, perhaps, be about twenty-four years old, was 
 caused, apparently, by a prolonged stay under a hot 
 sun, for the light, curly hair and blue eyes did not 
 match it they betrayed the German. A light beard, 
 curly like the hair, framed a handsome, open face, 
 which, however, did not follow any strict line of
 
 IS THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 beauty. The forehead was rather too low, but there 
 was something like bright sunshine in this face 
 which charmed and won everybody. 
 
 His companion, several years his senior, had 
 nothing of this sunny quality, although his appear- 
 ance was more imposing. Slender like the younger 
 one, he towered above him in height, and his dark 
 complexion was not caused by the sun alone. It was 
 of that olive tint which allows a pale face to still 
 look fresh, and the blue-black hair which fell in thick 
 waves over the high brow made the apparent pale- 
 ness more noticeable. The face was beautiful, with 
 its noble, proud lines so firmly and energetically 
 pronounced, but upon it appeared also deep shadows 
 lying over brow and eyes ; such shadows as one sel- 
 dom finds on youthful features. 
 
 The large, dark eyes, which had in their depths 
 something gloomy, told of hot, unruled passions. 
 In their flashing there was something uncanny but 
 mysteriously attractive. One felt that they could 
 charm with demoniac power ; in fact, the whole per- 
 sonality of the man possessed this uncanny, entranc- 
 ing charm. 
 
 "But I cannot help you, Stadinger," said the 
 younger of the two gentlemen. "The newly arrived 
 lot has to be unpacked and a place found for them. 
 Where? that is your affair." 
 
 "But, Your Highness, if that is absolutely impos- 
 sible?" argued the castle-keeper, in a tone indicat- 
 ing that he stood in rather familiar relations to his 
 young master. "Not a nook is free any more in 
 Rodeck. I have had trouble enough already to 
 house the servants which Your Highness brought 
 along, and now every day boxes large as houses ar- 
 rive, and always it is 'Unpack, Stadinger/ 'Find.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 79 
 
 room, Stadinger/ and in the meantime the rooms 
 stand empty by the dozen in the other castles." 
 
 "Do not grumble, old forest spirit, but find room," 
 interrupted the Prince. "The arrivals have to be 
 put up here at Rodeck, at least for the present, and 
 if the worst comes you will have to give up your own 
 lodgings." 
 
 "Yes, certainly ; Stadinger has room enough in his 
 lodgings," joined in the second gentleman. "I shall 
 arrange it myself and measure it all." 
 
 "And Lena can help you with it," added the 
 Prince, supporting the proposal of his friend. "She 
 is at home, is she not?" 
 
 Stadinger measured the gentlemen from head to 
 foot, then answered drily : 
 
 "No, Your Highness, Lena is away." 
 
 "Where?" cried the Prince, starting up. "Where 
 has she gone?" 
 
 "To town," was the laconic reply. 
 
 "What! I thought you intended keeping your 
 grandchild at home all winter." 
 
 "That has been changed," replied the castle-keeper 
 with imperturbable composure. "My old sister Rosa 
 only is at home now. If you wish to measure my 
 dwelling with her help, Herr Rojanow, she would 
 consider it a high honor." 
 
 Rojanow glanced at the old man in no very 
 friendly way, and the young prince said reproach- 
 fully : 
 
 "Now listen, Stadinger, you treat us in quite an 
 unaccountable manner. You even take Lena away 
 from us, the only one who was worth looking at. 
 All else here in the female line have the sixties be- 
 hind them, and their heads positively shake from 
 old age; and the kitchen women you got from
 
 80 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Furstenstein to help actually offend our sense of 
 beauty." 
 
 "Your Highnesses do not need to look at them," 
 suggested Stadinger. "I look out that the servants 
 do not come into the castle, but if Your Highness 
 goes into the kitchen like the day before yester- 
 day " 
 
 "Well, must I not inspect my servants at times? 
 But I shall not go into the kitchen a second time 
 you have taken care of that. I have my suspicions 
 that you have gathered here all the very ugliest of 
 the Wald to celebrate my arrival. You ought to be 
 ashamed, Stadinger." 
 
 The old man looked sharply and fixedly into his 
 master's eyes, and his voice sounded very impressive 
 as he answered : 
 
 "I am not ashamed a bit, Your Highness. When 
 the late Prince, Your Highness' father, gave me this 
 post of rest he said to me, 'Keep order at Rodeck, 
 Stadinger I rely upon you.' Well, I have kept 
 order for twelve years in the castle, and in my house 
 particularly, and I shall do that in future. Has 
 Your Highness any orders for me?" 
 
 "No, you old, rude thing," cried the Prince, half 
 laughing, half angry. "Make haste and get away. 
 We do not need any curtain lectures." 
 
 Stadinger obeyed. He saluted and marched off. 
 
 Rojanow looked after him and shrugged his shoul- 
 ders sarcastically. 
 
 "I admire your patience, Egon. You allow your 
 servants very far-reaching liberty." 
 
 "Stadinger is an exception," replied Egon. "He 
 allows himself everything; but he was not so much 
 in the wrong when he sent Lena away. I believe I 
 should have done the same in his place."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 81 
 
 "But it is not the first time that this old castle- 
 keeper has taken it upon himself to call you and me 
 to order. If I were his master he would have his 
 dismissal in the next hour." 
 
 "If I tried that it would turn out badly for me," 
 laughed the Prince. "Such old family heirlooms, 
 who have served for three generations, and have 
 carried the children in their arms, will be treated 
 with respect. I cannot gain anything there with 
 orders and prohibitions. Peter Stadinger does what 
 he will, and occasionally lectures me just as he sees 
 fit." 
 
 "If you suffer it such a thing is incomprehen- 
 sible to me." 
 
 "Yes, it is a thing you do not comprehend, Hart- 
 mut," said Egon more seriously. "You know only 
 the slavish submission of the servants in your coun- 
 try and the Orient. They kneel and bow at every 
 opportunity, yet steal and betray their masters when- 
 ever they can and know how. Stadinger is of an 
 enviable simplicity. My 'Highness' does not intimi- 
 date him in the least. He often tells me the har,d- 
 est things to my face; but I could put hundreds of 
 thousands in his hands he would not defraud me of 
 one iota of it. If Rodeck were in flames and I in 
 the midst of it, the old man, with all his sixty years, 
 would stand by me without a second thought. All 
 this is different with us in Germany." 
 
 "Yes; with you in Germany," repeated Hartmut 
 slowly, and his glance was lost dreamily in the dusk 
 of the forest. 
 
 "Are you still so prejudiced against it?" asked 
 Egon. . "It cost me persuasion and prayers enough 
 to get you to accompany me here you fought so 
 against entering German territory."
 
 82 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "I wish I had not entered it," said Rojanow, 
 gloomily. "You know " 
 
 "That all sorts of bitter remembrances have their 
 origin here for you yes. you have told me that ; but 
 you must have been a boy then. Have you not yet 
 overcome the grudge against it? You have the 
 most obstinate reticence, anyway, upon this point. 
 I have not yet heard what it really was that " 
 
 "Egon, I beg of you, leave the subject," inter- 
 rupted Hartmut, harshly. "I have told you once for 
 all that I cannot and will not speak of it. If you 
 mistrust me, let me go. I have not forced myself 
 upon you, you know that; but I cannot bear these 
 inquiries and questions." 
 
 The proud, inconsiderate tone which he used to- 
 ward his friend did not seem to be anything new to 
 the Prince. He merely shrugged his shoulders and 
 said pacifyingly: 
 
 "How irritable you are again to-day! I believe 
 you are right when you insist that German air makes 
 you nervous. You are entirely changed since you 
 put foot on this soil." 
 
 "It is possible. I feel that I torture you and my- 
 self with these whims; therefore let me go, Egon." 
 
 "I know better ! Have I taken so much pains to 
 catch you, just to let you fly off again now? No, 
 no, Hartmut, I shall not let you go by any means/' 
 
 The words sounded playful, but Rojanow seemed 
 to take them wrongly. His eyes lighted up almost 
 threateningly as he returned : 
 
 "And what if I will leave?" 
 
 "Then I shall hold you like this." 
 
 With an indescribably charming expression, Egon 
 threw his arm around his friend's shoulder. "And 
 I shall ask if this bad, obstinate Hartmut can bring
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 83 
 
 his conscience to desert me. We have lived to- 
 gether almost two years, and have shared danger 
 and joy like two brothers, and now you would storm 
 out into the world again without asking about me. 
 Am I, then, so little to you ?" 
 
 Such warm, heartfelt beseeching was in the words 
 that Rojanow's irritation could not live. His eyes 
 lit up with an expression which showed that he re- 
 turned just as intensely the passionate, enthusiastic 
 affection which the young Prince bore him, even if 
 he was, in their mutual relationship, the domineering 
 one. 
 
 ''Do you believe that for the sake of any one else I 
 would have come to Germany?" he asked in a low 
 voice. "Forgive me, Egon. I am an unstable na- 
 ture. I have never been able to stay long in any 
 place since since my boyhood." 
 
 "Then learn it now here at my home," cried Egon. 
 "I came to Rodeck especially to show you my coun- 
 try in its entire beauty. This old edifice, which 
 nestles in the midst of the deep forest like a fairy 
 castle, is a piece of forest poetry such as you could 
 not find in any of my other possessions. I know 
 your taste but I must really leave you now. You 
 will not drive with me over to Furstenstein ?" 
 
 "No; I will enjoy your much-praised forest 
 poetry, which, it appears, is already tiresome to you, 
 as you wish to make calls." 
 
 "Yes ; I am no poet like you, who can dream and 
 be enthused all day," said Egon, laughing. "We 
 have led the life of hermits for a full week, and I 
 cannot live on sunshine and forest perfume and the 
 curtain lectures of Stadinger alone. I need people, 
 and the Chief Forester is about the only person in the 
 neighborhood. Besides, this Herr von Schonan is a
 
 84 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 splendid, jolly man. You will yet meet and know 
 him, too." 
 
 He motioned to the waiting carriage, gave his 
 hand to his friend, sprang to his seat and rolled 
 away.
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 ROJANOW looked after him until the vehicle had 
 disappeared behind the trees, then he turned and 
 took one of the paths which led into the forest. He 
 carried his gun over his shoulder, but evidently did 
 not think of hunting-. Lost in thought, he walked 
 further and further aimlessly, without noticing the 
 road or direction, until deepest forest loneliness sur- 
 rounded him. 
 
 Prince Adelsberg was right ; he knew his friend's 
 taste. This forest poetry took full possession of 
 him. He finally came to a standstill and drew a 
 deep breath, but the cloud upon his brow would not 
 dispel; it grew darker and darker as he leaned 
 against the trunk of a tree and allowed his eyes to 
 roam about. Something not of peace or joy was 
 depicted in those beautiful features, which all the 
 sunny beauty around could not erase. 
 
 He saw this country for the first time ; his former 
 home was far removed in the northern part of Ger- 
 many; nothing here reminded him directly of the 
 past, and yet just here something awoke in him 
 which seemed to have long been dead something 
 which had not made itself felt in all those years 
 when he crossed oceans and countries, when intoxi- 
 cating waves of life surrounded him and he drank 
 with full thirsty draughts the freedom for which he 
 had sacrificed so much everything. 
 
 The old German woods! They rustled here in 
 
 the south as up there in the familiar north ; the same 
 
 n
 
 86 THE SIGtt OP FLAME. 
 
 breath floated through the firs and oaks here which 
 whispered there in the crowns of the pines ; the same 
 voice which had once been so familiar to the boy 
 when he lay upon the mossy forest soil. He had 
 heard many other voices since, some coaxing and 
 flattering, some intoxicating and enthusiastic, but 
 this voice sounded so grave and yet so sweet in the 
 rustling of the forest trees the fatherland spoke to 
 the lost son ! 
 
 Something moved yonder in the bushes. Hart- 
 mut looked up indifferently, thinking that some 
 game was passing through, but instead of that he 
 saw the glimmer of a light dress. A lady emerged 
 from a narrow side path which wound through the 
 forest, and stood still, apparently undecided as to the 
 direction she ought to take. 
 
 Rojanow had started at the unexpected sight. It 
 awoke him suddenly from his dream and called him 
 back to reality. The stranger had also noticed him. 
 She, too, seemed surprised, but only for a moment ; 
 then she drew near and said with a slight bow: 
 "May I ask you, sir, to show me the road to Fur- 
 stenstein ? I am a stranger here and have .lost my 
 way in my walk. I fear I have wandered consider- 
 ably from my path." 
 
 Hartmut had scanned the appearance of the young 
 lady with a quick glance, and immediately decided 
 to act as guide. Although he did not know the road 
 about which she had asked knew only the direction 
 in which it lay it troubled him but little. He made 
 a deeply polite bow. 
 
 "I place myself entirely at your service, gracious 
 Fraulein. Furstenstein is, indeed, rather far from 
 here, and you cannot possibly find the road by your- 
 self, so I must beg you to accept my escort."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 8? 
 
 The lady seemed to have expected the right direc- 
 tion to be pointed out, and the proffered escort was 
 evidently not especially welcome, but she may have 
 been afraid of losing her way a second time, and the 
 perfect politeness with which the offer was made 
 scarcely left her any choice. She bowed after a mo- 
 ment's hesitation and replied: "I shall be very 
 much obliged to you. Please let us go." 
 
 Rojanow pointed out a narrow, half-covered path 
 which led in the direction of Furstenstein, and en- 
 tered it without further ado. He decided to retain 
 his role as guide, for the little adventure began to 
 interest him. 
 
 His protege was, indeed, beautiful enough to 
 make the encounter interesting. The pure, delicate 
 oval of her face ; the high, clear brow surrounded by 
 shining blonde hair; the lines of the features all 
 was perfect symmetry, but there was something 
 chilling in the strong regularity of these lines, which 
 was rather increased by a mark of energetic will 
 power most plainly pronounced. The young lady 
 could not be more than eighteen or nineteen years 
 old at the utmost, but she had nothing of the charm 
 of mirth and gayety belonging to that age. The 
 large blue eyes looked as calm and grave as if a girl- 
 ish dream had never brightened them, and the same 
 cold, proud composure was visible in the carriage 
 and whole appearance. 
 
 This tall, slender figure affected one like a chill- 
 ing breath. Her plain but elegant apparel showed 
 that she belonged to the high classes. 
 
 Rojanow had time enough to observe her as he 
 walked now behind her and now before, bending 
 back the low-hanging bows, or warning of the un- 
 evenness of the ground. This narrow forest path
 
 88 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 
 
 was truly not comfortable, and proved itself not 
 very appropriate for the toilet of a lady. More than 
 once her dress was caught by the bushes ; the veil of 
 her hat was entangled in the boughs at every oppor- 
 tunity, while the mossy soil proved at times very 
 damp and foggy. 
 
 All of this, however, was borne with perfect in- 
 difference, but Hartmut felt that he was not doing 
 himself much credit with his post as guide. 
 
 "I am sorry to have to lead you over such a rough 
 path, Fraulein," he said courteously. "I am really 
 afraid of fatiguing you, but we are in the densest 
 forest and there is no choice whatever." 
 
 "I am not easily fatigued," was the calm rejoin- 
 der. "I care little for the roughness of the road if 
 it only leads to the desired end." 
 
 The remark sounded somewhat unusual from the 
 lips of a young girl. Rojanow seemed to think so, 
 and smiled rather sarcastically as he repeated : 
 
 "If it only leads to the desired end ? Quite so 
 that is my opinion, but ladies are usually of a dif- 
 ferent mind ; they wish to be borne softly over every 
 inconvenience." 
 
 "All of them ? There are also women who prefer 
 to go alone, without being led like a child." 
 
 "Perhaps, as an exception. I prize the chance 
 which gives me the good fortune of meeting such a 
 charming exception " 
 
 Hartmut was about to utter a bold compliment, 
 but suddenly grew silent, for the blue eyes looked 
 at him with an expression that made the words die 
 upon his lips. 
 
 At this moment the lady's veil was caught again 
 by a thorny bush, which held it fast relentlessly. 
 She stood still, but hardly had her companion
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 89 
 
 stretched forth his hand to disengage the delicate 
 fabric, when she tore herself free with a quick motion 
 of the head. The veil remained hanging in shreds 
 on the bough, but his help had become totally super- 
 fluous. 
 
 Rojanow bit his lip. This adventure was devel- 
 oping quite differently from what he had expected. 
 He had thought to play the agreeable in that bold, 
 vainglorious manner which had become his second 
 nature toward ladies, to a timid young being who 
 trusted herself entirely to his protection, but he was 
 being shown back to his proper place by a mere 
 glance at his first attempt. It was made very clear 
 to him that he was to be guide here and nothing else. 
 
 Who, then, in truth, was this girl who, with 
 her eighteen or nineteen years, already showed 
 the perfect ease of a great lady and who knew so 
 well how to make herself unapproachable? He con- 
 cluded to have light about it at any cost. 
 
 The narrow path now ended; they emerged into 
 an opening, the forest continuing on the other side. 
 
 It was not easy to be a guide here, where one was 
 as little acquainted with the country as Hartmut, 
 but he would never confess his ignorance now. 
 
 Apparently quite certain, he kept in the same di- 
 rection, choosing one of the wood roads which 
 crossed through the forest. There must surely be a 
 spot somewhere which would offer a free outlook 
 and make it possible to find the right road. 
 
 The wider path now permitted them to walk side 
 by side, and Hartmut took immediate advantage of 
 it to start a conversation, which thus far had been 
 impossible, since they had had to struggle with so 
 many obstacles. 
 
 "I have neglected so far to introduce myself, gra-
 
 90 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 
 
 cious Fraulein," he commenced. "My name is Ro- 
 janow. I am at present at Rodeck, a guest of 
 Prince Adelsberg, who enjoys the privilege of being 
 your neighbor, since you live at Furstenstein." 
 
 "No; I am likewise only a guest there," replied 
 the lady. 
 
 The princely neighbor seemed to be as indifferent 
 to her as the name of her companion ; at all events, 
 she did not seem to consider it necessary to give her 
 name in return, but accepted the introduction with 
 that proud, aristocratic movement of the head which 
 seemed to be peculiar to her. 
 
 "Ah, you live, then, at the Residenz, and have 
 taken advantage of the beautiful fall weather for an 
 excursion here?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 It sounded as monosyllabic and rebuking as pos- 
 sible, but Rojanow was not the man to be rebuked. 
 He was accustomed to have his personality felt 
 everywhere to meet with consideration and im- 
 portance, particularly among the ladies, and he felt 
 it almost an insult that this oft-tested success was 
 denied him here. But it excited him to enforce a 
 conversation which apparently was not desired. 
 
 "Are you satisfied with your stay at Fursten- 
 stein?" he began anew. "I have not yet been there, 
 and have only seen the castle from afar, but it seems 
 to overlook the whole vicinity. A peculiar taste is 
 needed, however, to find the country beautiful." 
 
 "And this taste does not seem to be yours." 
 
 "At any rate, I do not love the monotony, and 
 here one has the same view everywhere. Forest 
 and forest and nothing but forest ! It is enough 
 sometimes to create despair." 
 
 It sounded like suppressed resentment. The poor
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 91 
 
 German forests had to atone for torturing the re- 
 turned prodigal to such an extent that he had been 
 upon the point several times of fleeing from their 
 whispering and rustling. He could not bear it 
 this grave, monotonous tune of old times which the 
 leaves whispered to him. 
 
 His companion heard, of course, only the sarcasm 
 in the remark. 
 
 "You are a foreigner, Herr Rojanow ?" she asked 
 calmly. 
 
 A dark shadow passed again over Hartmut's 
 brow. He hesitated for a moment, then replied 
 coldly: "Yes, gracious Fraulein." 
 
 ''I thought so ; your name, as well as appearance, 
 betrays it, and therefore your opinion is conceiv- 
 able." 
 
 "It is certainly an unbiased opinion," said Hart- 
 mut, irritated by the reproach contained in the last 
 words. "I have seen a great deal of the world, and 
 have but now returned from the Orient. Whoever 
 has known the ocean in its brilliant, transparent blue, 
 or its majestic, stormy uproar; whoever has enjoyed 
 the charm of the tropics, and been intoxicated with 
 their splendor and coloring to him these evergreen 
 forest depths appear but cold and colorless, like all 
 of these German landscapes, anyhow." 
 
 The contemptuous shrug of the shoulders with 
 which he concluded seemed to finally arouse his 
 companion from her cool indifference. An expres- 
 sion of displeasure flitted across her features, and her 
 voice betrayed a certain excitement as she answered : 
 "That is probably solely and entirely a matter of 
 taste. I know, if not the Orient, at least the south 
 of Europe. Those sun-glaring, color-shining land- 
 scapes intoxicate for the moment, certainly, and then
 
 92 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 they weary one. They lack freshness and strength. 
 One can dream and enjoy there, but not live and 
 work. But why argue about it ? You do not under- 
 stand our German forests." 
 
 Hartmut smiled with undeniable satisfaction. He 
 had succeeded in breaking the icy reticence of his 
 companion. All of his charming politeness had 
 been without effect, but he saw now that there was 
 something which could call life into those cold fea- 
 tures, and he found it attractive to draw it out. If 
 he offended by it, it did not matter; it gave him 
 pleasure. 
 
 "That sounds like a reproof which, alas! I have 
 to accept," he said, with an undisguised sneer. "It 
 is possible that this understanding is wanting in 
 me. I am accustomed to measure nature differently 
 from most people. Live and work! It depends 
 greatly upon what one calls living and working. I 
 have lived for years in Paris, that mighty centre of 
 civilization, where life throbs and flows in a thou- 
 sand streams. Whoever is used to being borne on 
 those sparkling waves cannot bring himself again 
 into narrow, petit views into all those prejudices 
 and pedantries which in this good Germany are 
 called 'life.' ' 
 
 The contemptuous stress which he put upon the 
 last words had something of a challenge in it, and 
 reached its aim. 
 
 His companion came to a sudden standstill and 
 measured him from head to foot, while from the 
 formerly cold, blue eyes there flashed a spark of 
 burning anger. She seemed to have an angry reply 
 upon her lips, but suppressed it. She only straight- 
 ened herself to her fullest height, and her words were 
 few and of icy, haughty reprimand.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 93 
 
 "You forget, mein Herr, that you speak to a Ger- 
 man. I remind you of it." 
 
 Hartmut's brow glowed dark-red under this stern 
 reproof, and yet it was directed only to the stranger 
 the foreigner who forgot the consideration of a 
 guest. 
 
 If this girl had an idea who spoke so to her if 
 she knew ! Hot, burning shame rose suddenly with- 
 in him, but he was man of the world enough to con- 
 trol himself immediately. 
 
 "I beg your pardon," he said with a slight, half- 
 sarcastic bow. "I was under the impression that we 
 were exchanging only general views, which have the 
 right of unbiased opinions. I am sorry to have 
 offended you, gracious Fraulein." 
 
 An inimitable, proud and disdainful motion of 
 the head assured him that he did not even possess 
 the power to offend her. She shrugged her shoul- 
 ders in a barely perceptible manner. 
 
 "I do not wish to bias your opinions in the least, 
 but as our views are so widely different on this mat- 
 ter, we will do better to discontinue our conversa- 
 tion." 
 
 Rojanow was not inclined to continue it. He knew 
 now that those cold, blue eyes could flash. He had 
 wished to see it had caused it to happen, and yet 
 the matter had ended differently from what he had 
 anticipated. He glanced with a half hostile look 
 at the slender figure at his side, and then his eyes 
 roamed resentfully again in the bitterly abused green 
 depths of the forest.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THIS forest loneliness had, however, something 
 fascinating in it. It was touched by the first slight 
 breath of autumn; that touch which has not yet 
 brought withering and death, but has only steeped 
 the landscape in richer coloring. Here and there 
 brilliant red and gold flashed through the bushes, 
 but the forest itself still rested fresh and aromatic 
 in its green dusk. 
 
 Beneath the crowns of the century-old trees bend- 
 ing gracefully toward each other, deep, cool shadows 
 glided, and in the openings golden sunshine lay glis- 
 tening on the flowers which bloomed here in the 
 light. Occasionally in the distance the bright mir- 
 ror of a small pond glittered, resting lonely, as if 
 lost in the midst of the deep forest. 
 
 Through the profound quiet all around could be 
 heard the low rustling of the mighty trees and the 
 humming and singing of thousands of insects that 
 seemed to float upon the rays of the sun : all of those 
 mysterious voices which are heard only in solitude 
 the sweet, dreamy language of the forest. It lured 
 and coaxed irresistibly with its green depths, which 
 stretched endlessly, always further and further, as if 
 it wished to keep forever within its charm the two 
 now walking through it. 
 
 But suddenly quite an unexpected obstacle ap- 
 peared before them. Dashing and roaring from the 
 thickly grown heights, a broad forest brook made a,
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 95 
 
 .Way for itself with merry haste through bushes and 
 rocks. 
 
 Rojanow paused in his walk and took in the situa- 
 tion with a quick glance, but as nowhere could a 
 ford or bridge be discovered, he turned to his com- 
 panion. 
 
 "I fear we are in trouble ; the brook seems to put 
 an end to our path. It is usually easy to cross on 
 the moss-covered stones at the bottom, with some 
 care, but yesterday's rain has covered them com- 
 pletely." 
 
 The young lady was looking anxiously for some 
 crossing place. "Would it not be possible further 
 down?" she asked, pointing down the stream. 
 
 "No, for the water is deeper and more rapid there. 
 We must cross here at this place. Of course, you 
 cannot go through the water. You will permit me, 
 Fraulein, to carry you over?" 
 
 The offer was made with perfect courtesy and re- 
 serve, but Rojanow's eyes flashed triumphantly. 
 Chance was avenging him now on the unapproach- 
 able one, who would not suffer his assistance even 
 in the disengaging of her veil from a thorn bush. 
 She had now to entrust herself unconditionally to 
 his help, there was no choice but to allow herself to 
 be carried in his arms to the other bank. 
 
 He drew near as if the permission sought had been 
 granted, but she recoiled. 
 
 "I thank you, Herr Rojanow." 
 
 Hartmut smiled with an irony which he took no 
 pains to conceal. He was master of the situation 
 now and intended to remain so. 
 
 "Do you desire to turn back ?" he asked. "More 
 than an hour would be lost, whereas if we cross here 
 {he. other side will be reached in a few moments,
 
 96 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 You can trust yourself to my arms without fear 
 the crossing will be quite without danger." 
 
 "I think so, too," was the calm reply, "and there- 
 fore I shall try it alone." 
 
 "Alone ? That is impossible, Fraulein !" 
 
 "Impossible to walk through a forest brook? I 
 do not consider that a particularly heroic deed." 
 
 "But the water is deeper than you think. You 
 will get a thorough wetting, and besides it is really 
 impossible." 
 
 "I am not effeminate in the least and do not catch 
 cold easily. Be so kind as to go first. I will fol- 
 low." 
 
 That was plain enough, and sounded so com- 
 manding that remonstrance was not possible. Hart- 
 mut bowed a silent assent and waded through the 
 water, which could do no damage to his high hunt- 
 ing boots. 
 
 It was. indeed, rather deep and violent, so that he 
 had to be careful in getting a firm foothold upon the 
 stones. A slight smile played around his lips as he 
 stood on the other bank and awaited his companion, 
 who had refused his protection so haughtily. Let 
 her try coming alone ; the water would frighten her ; 
 she would not be able to battle with it, and would 
 be compelled to call him to help her in spite of her 
 reluctance. 
 
 She had followed him without hesitation. With 
 her delicate, thin boots offering no resistance what- 
 ever, she already stood in the water, which was cold, 
 but she seemed scarcely to feel it. Catching up her 
 dress with both hands, she advanced carefully and 
 slowly, but quite surely, to the middle of the 
 brook. 
 
 But here in the midst of the dashing, foaming
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 97 
 
 flood, it required the firm step of a man to hold its 
 own. The slender, soft foot of the lady searched in 
 vain for a hold upon the slippery stones. The high 
 heels of the dainty boots were as much of a detri- 
 ment as the dress, the hem of which was caught by 
 the waves. 
 
 The courageous pedestrian apparently lost the con- 
 fidence hitherto displayed. She slipped several times 
 and finally stood still. A questioning glance flew 
 over to the bank where Rojanow stood, firmly de- 
 cided not to lift his hand to help her until she asked 
 for it. 
 
 She may have read this resolution in his eyes, and 
 it seemed to give her back instantly her failing 
 strength. She stood immovable a moment, but the 
 determined expression in her features was in full 
 play. Suddenly she slipped from the flooded stones 
 into water a foot deep, where she now, indeed, 
 gained terra firma directly on the bottom of the 
 brook, and could walk unmolested to the other bank. 
 She grasped a branch of a tree, instead of Hartmut's 
 offered hand, and by its aid swung herself to dry 
 land. 
 
 Naturally she was very wet. The water ran from 
 her dress, which she had released from her grasp 
 without consideration, but with perfect unconcern 
 she turned to her escort and said : "Shall we con- 
 tinue on our way? It cannot be very far to Fur- 
 stenstein." 
 
 Hartmut did not return a syllable, but something 
 like hatred sprang up within him for this woman, 
 who would rather slip into the cold flood than trust 
 herself to his arms. The proud, spoiled man whose 
 brilliant traits had heretofore won all hearts, felt so 
 much more keenly the humiliation which was forced
 
 98 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 upon him here. He almost cursed the whole en- 
 counter. 
 
 They walked on. From time to time Rojanow 
 threw a glance upon the heavy, wet hem of the dress 
 which trailed on the ground beside him, but other- 
 wise he bestowed his whole attention upon the sur- 
 roundings, which seemed to get lighter. This 
 forest thickness must end some time! 
 
 His supposition was correct. He had been suc- 
 cessful in his leadership, for the path taken at ran- 
 dom proved the right one. In about ten minutes 
 they stood upon a slight elevation which offered a 
 free outlook. Over yonder,- above an ocean of tree- 
 tops, rose the towers of Furstenstein, while a broad 
 road, which could be plainly seen, wound to the foot 
 of the castle mount. 
 
 "There is Furstenstein," said Hartmut, turning 
 for the first time to his companion, "although it will 
 be about half an hour's walk from here." 
 
 "That is of no consequence," she interrupted him 
 quickly. "I am very grateful to you for your guid- 
 ance, but I cannot now miss the road, and I should 
 not like to trouble you further." 
 
 "As you wish, gracious Fraulein," Rojanow said, 
 coldly. "If you desire to dismiss your guide here 
 he will not force himself upon you." 
 
 The reproach was understood. The young lady 
 herself might feel that a man who had guided her 
 through the forest for hours might well deserve a 
 different dismissal, even if she found it necessary to 
 keep him at a distance. 
 
 "I have already detained you too long," she said 
 graciously, "and since you have introduced yourself, 
 Herr Rojanow, let me give you my name also before 
 we part A4elai4e von WaUrnoden,"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 99 
 
 Hartmut started slightly and a burning blush 
 covered his face as he repeated slowly, "Wall- 
 moden !" 
 
 "Is the name familiar to you?" 
 
 "I believe I have heard it before, but it was in 
 in North Germany." 
 
 "Most probably, for that is my husband's home." 
 
 Unmistakable surprise was depicted in Rojanow's 
 face as the supposed young girl announced herself a 
 married woman, but he bowed politely. 
 
 "Then I beg your pardon, gracious lady, for the 
 wrong address. I could not anticipate that you were 
 married. In any case, I have not the honor of 
 knowing your husband even by name, for the gen- 
 tleman who was then known to me was already ad- 
 vanced in years. He belonged to the diplomatic 
 corps, and his name was, if I am not mistaken, Her- 
 bert von Wallmoden." 
 
 "Quite right; my husband is at present Ambassa- 
 dor at the court of this country. But he will be 
 anxious about my long stay. I must not tarry 
 longer. Once again, my thanks, Herr Rojanow." 
 
 She bowed slightly and took the descending road. 
 Hartmut stood motionless, looking after her, but an 
 ashy paleness was on his face. 
 
 So he had hardly set foot upon German soil be- 
 fore there met him a name and connection with old 
 times which was at least painfully disagreeable to 
 him. 
 
 Herbert von Wallmoden, brother of Frau von 
 Eschenhagen, guardian of Willibald, and friend 
 of 
 
 Rojanow suddenly broke off in his thoughts, for 
 a sharp, painful stab sank into his breast. 
 
 As if to throw something from him he straight-
 
 100 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 ened himself, and again the harsh, offensive sarcasm 
 trembled around his lips, over which he had such 
 masterly command. 
 
 "Uncle Wallmoden has made a fine career at 
 least," he murmured, "and seems to have had good 
 luck besides. His hair must have been gray a long 
 time, and yet with it he conquers a young, beautiful 
 girl. Of course an ambassador is always a good 
 match, hence the cool, aristocratic manner which 
 does not consider it worth the while to bend to other 
 mortals. Probably the diplomatic school of the 
 husband has educated his chosen one especially for 
 this position. Well, he has succeeded admirably." 
 
 His eyes still followed the young wife, who had 
 already reached the foot of the hill, but now a deep 
 furrow appeared in his brow. 
 
 "If I should meet Wallmoden here and it can 
 scarcely be avoided he will recognize me beyond a 
 doubt. If he then tells her the truth if she learns 
 what has happened and looks at me again with 
 
 that look of contempt " In wild, out-breaking 
 
 wrath he stamped his foot upon the ground, then 
 laughed bitterly. 
 
 "Pah! what do I care? What does this blond, 
 blue-eyed race, with their indolent, cold blood, know 
 of the longing for freedom of the storm of pas- 
 sions of life in general? Let them pass judgment 
 upon me ! I do not fear the meeting. I shall know 
 how to hold my own." 
 
 Throwing back his head in proud defiance, he 
 turned his back upon the slender female figure yet 
 visible, and walked back into the forest.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 AT the home of the Chief of all the foresters, the 
 talked-of family fete for which Wallmoden and his 
 young wife had expressly come, had taken place 
 according to programme, and the lord of Burgs- 
 dorf and Antonie von Schonan were formally be- 
 trothed. 
 
 The young couple had long known that they were 
 intended for each other, and were perfectly con- 
 tented therewith. 
 
 Willibald, like a good son, was still of the opinion 
 that the selection of his future wife was solely the 
 business of his mother, and he had quietly waited 
 until she found it convenient to betroth him. Still 
 it was agreeable to him that it was just Cousin Toni 
 he was to marry. 
 
 He had known her since their childhood; she 
 suited him admirably, and what was of some import- 
 ance, she made no demands for the romantic part of 
 the engagement, which, with the best will in the 
 world, he could not have complied with. 
 
 Toni exhibited the good taste which Frau Regine 
 credited her with. Willy pleased her very much, 
 and the prospect of becoming mistress of stately 
 Biirgsdorf pleased her still better. So all was in 
 perfect accord. 
 
 The betrothed couple were at present in the recep- 
 tion room where the piano stood and Antonie was 
 
 entertaining her betrothed with music at the request 
 
 101
 
 102 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 of her father. She herself considered music a very 
 tiresome and superfluous affair; but the Chief For- 
 ester had insisted that his daughter should demon- 
 strate not only her ability as a housekeeper, but that 
 she had also been educated in the higher arts. 
 
 He was walking up and down the terrace with his 
 sister-in-law, with the original intention of listening 
 to the music, but instead of that they were quarrel-- 
 ing again, although they had started out with a 
 peaceful conversation about the happiness of the 
 children. This time the quarrel seemed to be of a 
 very violent nature. 
 
 "I really do not know what to think of you, 
 Moritz," said Frau von Eschenhagen with a very 
 red face. "You do not seem to have any sense of the 
 impropriety of this acquaintance. When I ask you 
 who this bosom friend of Toni's really is the one 
 who is expected at Waldhofen you answer me in 
 the calmest manner possible that she is a singer, and 
 recently engaged at the Court Theatre. An actress ! 
 a theatre princess! one of those frivolous crea- 
 tures " 
 
 "But, Regine, do not get so excited," interrupted 
 von Schonan vexedly. "You act as though the poor 
 thing was already lost body and soul, because she has 
 appeared on the stage." 
 
 "So she is," declared Regine; "whoever once en- 
 ters this Sodom and Gomorrah is not to be saved 
 they go to their ruin there." 
 
 "Very flattering to our Court Theatre," said 
 Schonan drily. "Besides, all of us go there." 
 
 "As audience that is quite different. But I have 
 always been against it. Willy has been allowed to 
 attend the theatre but seldom, and then only in my 
 company ; but while I fulfil my maternal duty, con-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 103 
 
 scientiously protecting my son from any touch with 
 those circles, you give his future wife over freely to 
 their poisonous influences. It is worthy of a cry to 
 heaven!" 
 
 Her voice had grown very loud, partly through 
 indignation and partly that she might be heard, for 
 the musical performance in the room, whose glass 
 doors stood wide open, was of a rather loud nature. 
 
 The young lady had a somewhat hard touch and 
 her performance reminded one of the working of an 
 ax in hard wood. Although her three listeners had 
 strong nerves, a low conversation had become an 
 impossibility. 
 
 "Let me explain this matter to you," said the 
 Chief Forester pacifyingly. "I have already told 
 you that this case is an exception. Marietta Volk- 
 mar is the granddaughter of our good old physician 
 at Waldhofen. He had the misfortune to lose his 
 son in the prime of life the young widow followed 
 her husband in the next year, and their child, the 
 little orphan, came to her grandfather. That hap- 
 pened when I was promoted here to Furstenstein, 
 ten years ago. Dr. Volkmar became my house 
 physician; his granddaughter the playmate of my 
 children, and because the school in Waldhofen was 
 very poor, I offered to let the little one participate 
 in the lessons of my children. The friendship dates 
 from then. 
 
 "Later on, when Toni was sent to boarding school 
 for two years, and Marietta went to the city for her 
 musical education, this daily intercourse was, of 
 course, broken, but Marietta visits us regularly when 
 she comes to her grandfather during her vacations, 
 and I do not see why I should prohibit it as long as 
 the girl remains good and true."
 
 104 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen had listened to the expla- 
 nation without abating her severity in the least, and 
 now she laughed ironically. 
 
 "Good and true at the theatre ! One knows how 
 things go there, but you seem to take it just as easy 
 as this Dr. Volkmar, who looks so venerable with his 
 white hair, and yet consents to his granddaughter 
 a young soul entrusted to his care going on the 
 path to destruction." 
 
 Herr von Schonan made an impatient gesture. 
 
 "Regine, you are usually such a sensible woman, 
 but you have never wished to be reasonable on this 
 point. The theatre and everything connected with 
 it has always been under a ban to you. The de- 
 cision has not been an easy one for the doctor. I 
 know that; and if one like me can sit in the warm 
 nest and support one's children, one should not break 
 the staff over other parents who struggle with bitter 
 cares. Volkmar still works night and day with all 
 his seventy years, but the practice brings him but 
 little, for our vicinity is poor, and Marietta will be 
 quite without means after his death." 
 
 ''She ought to have become a governess or com- 
 panion, then ; that is a decent vocation." 
 
 "But a miserable vocation. One knows well how 
 the poor things are treated and overworked. If a 
 child of mine, whom I loved, had to decide her lot in 
 life, and it was told me that she had a fortune in 
 her throat and that a splendid future was assured 
 her well, I should let her go on the stage, depend 
 upon that." 
 
 This confession knocked the bottom out of the 
 barrel. Frau Regine stood for a moment quite still 
 in affright ; then she said solemnly : "Moritz, I 
 shudder at you."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 105 
 
 "I don't care. If it gives you any pleasure to 
 shudder, keep at it; but if Marietta comes to Fur- 
 stenstein as usual, I shall not repulse her, and I also 
 have nothing against Toni's going to see her in 
 Waldhofen." 
 
 Herr von Schonan had also to speak very loud, for 
 his daughter was pounding the keys so that the win- 
 dows rattled, and the strings of the piano were seri- 
 ously endangered. The Chief Forester, while in the 
 heat of the controversy, noticed this as little as did 
 his sister-in-law, who now replied with much sharp- 
 ness: 
 
 "Well, then, it is at least a good thing that Toni is 
 to marry soon. Then the friendship with this the- 
 atre princess will come to an end, depend upon that. 
 Such guests are not suffered at our respectable 
 Burgsdorf, and Willy will not allow his wife the 
 correspondence which seems now to be going on at a 
 lively rate." 
 
 "That means that you will not allow it," shouted 
 von Schonan, mockingly. "Willy has nothing to 
 forbid or allow ; he is only the obedient servant of his 
 gracious Frau Mamma. It is unjustifiable how you 
 keep that boy under your thumb when he is of age, 
 betrothed, and soon to be a husband." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen, offended, straightened 
 herself. 
 
 "I believe I am more conscientious with my re- 
 sponsibilities than you are. Do you wish to re- 
 proach me for raising my son with filial reverence 
 and love?" 
 
 "Oh, well; there is a point where conscientious- 
 ness ceases and maltreating commences. You have 
 already made Willy quite silly with your eternal su- 
 pervision. He did not dare to even propose on his
 
 106 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 own account; when the matter began to get too 
 long for you, you interfered as usual. 'Why these 
 preliminaries, children ? You shall have each other 
 you wish it, your parents consent, you have my 
 blessing therefore kiss each other and bring the 
 thing to an end.' That is your standpoint. I, too, 
 had filial reverence and affection, but if my parents 
 had come into my wooing like that they would have 
 heard something very different. But Willy accepted 
 it calmly. I truly believe he was glad that he did 
 not have to make a formal proposal." 
 
 The excitement of the twain had again risen to the 
 boiling point, and it was now well that the noise 
 inside had so increased that they could not hear each 
 other further. 
 
 Fraulein Antonie had strength at least in her 
 hands, and as she seemed to consider that the most 
 important thing, her performance sounded as if a 
 regiment of soldiers were storming an attack. 
 
 It was too much for her father. He suddenly 
 broke off the conversation and entered the room. 
 
 "But, Toni, you- do not need to break the new 
 piano," he said with vexation. "What piece are 
 you playing?" 
 
 Toni sat at the piano, laboring in the sweat of her 
 brow; not far removed sat her betrothed upon a 
 sofa, his head supported by his arm and eyes shaded 
 by his hand, apparently quite entranced with the 
 music. 
 
 The young lady turned at her father's question 
 and said in her usual slow voice, "I was playing the 
 March of the Janissaries, papa. I thought it would 
 please Willy, since he, too, has been a soldier." 
 
 "So? But he served as a dragoon," muttered 
 Schonan, approaching his future son-in-law, who
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 107 
 
 did not seem to appreciate the delicate attention, for 
 he gave no sign of approval. 
 
 "Willy, what do you say to it ? Willy, do you not 
 hear? I actually believe he has fallen asleep." 
 
 Alas ! the supposition proved correct. While the 
 March of the Janissaries thundered over the keys, 
 Willy had softly and sweetly fallen asleep, slumber- 
 ing so soundly that he did not even now awake. This 
 seemed too much for his mother, who had also ap- 
 proached. She grasped his arm sharply. 
 
 "But, Willy, whatever does this mean ? Are you 
 not ashamed of yourself?" 
 
 The young lord, shaken and scolded on all sides, 
 finally aroused himself and sleepily gazed around. 
 
 "What what shall I Yes, it was beautiful, 
 
 dear Toni." 
 
 "I believe it," cried the Chief with an angry 
 laugh. "Do not trouble yourself to play any more, 
 my child. Come, we will let your groom-elect have 
 his nap out in peace. He has good nerves; one 
 must confess that." 
 
 Saying which he took his daughter's arm and left 
 the room, where the fullest maternal wrath now 
 broke over poor Willibald. Frau von Eschenhagen, 
 already provoked by the preceding conversation, did 
 not spare her son, but justified only too well the re- 
 proaches of her brother-in-law. She scolded the en- 
 gaged and soon-to-be-a-husband young man like a 
 schoolboy. 
 
 "This surpasses everything conceivable," she con- 
 cluded in highest indignation. "Your father was 
 not very much at courting, but if he, after two days' 
 betrothal, had fallen asleep while I was entertaining 
 him with my music, I should have aroused him very 
 unceremoniously. Now, do you go immediately to
 
 108 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 your fiancee and beg her pardon. She is quite right 
 to feel offended." 
 
 With which she grasped him by the shoulder and 
 pushed him very emphatically toward the door. 
 
 Willy accepted it all very humbly and remorse- 
 fully, for he was indeed shocked at his untimely 
 slumber; but he could not help it he had been so 
 sleepy and the music was so wearying. 
 
 Quite crushed, he entered the next room, where 
 Toni stood, rather offended, at the window. 
 
 "Dear Toni, do not think hard of me," he began 
 hesitatingly; "it was so hot and your playing had 
 something so pacifying." 
 
 Toni turned. That this march, with her playing 
 of it, should be pacifying was new to her; but when 
 she saw the crushed mien of her betrothed, who 
 stood like a prisoner before her, her good nature 
 conquered, and she held out her hand. 
 
 "No, I am not angry with you, Willy," she said 
 cordially. "I do not care either for the stupid 
 music. We will do something more sensible when 
 we are at Burgsdorf." 
 
 "Yes, that we will," exclaimed Willy, joyfully 
 pressing the offered hand. He had not yet aspired 
 to even a kiss upon the hand. "You are so good, 
 Toni." 
 
 When Frau von Eschenhagen entered soon after- 
 ward, she found the couple in perfect harmony, en- 
 gaged in a highly interesting conversation about 
 dairy affairs, which were somewhat different in the 
 two localities of Burgsdorf and Furstenstein. This 
 was a subject over which Willy did not fall asleep, 
 and his mother congratulated herself secretly upon 
 this splendid daughter-in-law, who showed no incon- 
 venient sensitiveness.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 109 
 
 The young man found opportunity almost directly 
 to prove himself grateful for the indulgence of his 
 betrothed. Toni complained that a package which 
 she had ordered and which was needed for the sup- 
 per table had not yet come. It had arrived safely at 
 the post office, but, it seemed, with a wrong address, 
 and had not been delivered to the messenger, who 
 in the meantime had been dispatched elsewhere. No 
 other servant was at liberty to go, and the time of 
 need for it was drawing near. Willibald hastened 
 to offer his services, which were joyfully accepted by 
 his fiancee.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WALDHOFEN was the most important village of 
 the vicinity, but still only a small place. It was 
 about half an hour's distance from Furstenstein and 
 formed a kind of centre for all the scattered villages 
 and hamlets of the Wald. 
 
 It looked very desolate and forlorn during the 
 afternoon hours, when nobody was on the streets; 
 so thought Herr von Eschenhagen as he walked 
 across the market place, where the post office was 
 situated. 
 
 He finished the errand which had brought him to 
 Waldhofen, and found a man to carry the parcel to 
 the castle. Then, since the streets of the quiet little 
 place offered no diversion, he turned into a lane 
 which led to the high road behind the gardens of the 
 houses. 
 
 The path was rather boggy ; yesterday's rain had 
 made it quite without a foothold in places. Yet 
 Willibald was farmer enough not to care about such 
 things, but marched on unconcernedly. 
 
 He was in an exceedingly happy mood. It was 
 surely a pleasant thing to be betrothed, and he did 
 not doubt in the least that he would lead a very 
 happy life in the future with his good Toni. 
 
 At this moment a carriage came toward him, 
 making its way laboriously through the boggy soil, 
 and apparently bringing travellers, for a large trunk 
 was strapped on behind, and the inside seemed to 
 
 contain various travelling appurtenances, 
 
 uo
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. Ill 
 
 Willibald could not help wondering why they 
 used this lane, which, in its present condition, was 
 very tiresome ; indeed the driver seemed dissatisfied. 
 He turned in his seat to consult with the traveller, 
 who so far had not been visible. 
 
 "It really does not go any further, Fraulein. I 
 told you so before. We cannot get through here, the 
 wheels stick in the mud. We are in a fix now." 
 
 "But it is not far now," said a fresh voice from 
 the inside; "only a few hundred paces. Just try it 
 again." 
 
 "What is not possible is not possible," returned 
 the driver with philosophical composure. "We can- 
 not get through that mire before us; we must turn 
 back." 
 
 "But I do not wish to drive through town." The 
 voice had a spice of defiance in it now. "If it is not 
 possible to drive on, I shall dismount." 
 
 The driver stopped, the door was opened, and a 
 light, slender figure sprang from the carriage with 
 such sure aim as to reach a higher spot across the 
 mire. There she remained and glanced around 
 searchingly: but as the lane made a bend nearby, 
 only a little of it could be overlooked. The young 
 lady seemed to observe this with dissatisfaction. 
 Then her glance fell upon Herr von Eschenhagen, 
 who, approaching from the other direction, now 
 reached the bend. 
 
 "Please, mein Herr, is the lane passable?" she 
 called. He did not answer directly, being petrified 
 with admiration of her daring and graceful jump. 
 Why, she flew through the air like a feather and yet 
 stood firm and safe upon her feet where she landed. 
 
 "Do you not hear?" repeated the Fraulein impa- 
 tiently; "I asked if the lane is passable."
 
 112 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Yes, I have walked over it," said Willibald, 
 somewhat confused by the dictatorial questioning. 
 
 "I see that, but I have no boots like yours and 
 cannot wade through the mire. Is it possible to 
 pass along the hedges ? Great heavens ! at least an- 
 swer me." 
 
 "I I believe so. It is somewhat dry over 
 yonder." 
 
 "Well, I shall try, then. Turn back, driver, and 
 deliver my baggage at the post office. I will send 
 for it. Wait, I will take that satchel with me. 
 Hand it across." 
 
 "But the satchel is too heavy for you, Fraulein," 
 remonstrated the driver, "and I cannot leave the 
 horses alone." 
 
 "Well, then, this gentleman will carry it for me. 
 It is not far to our garden. Please, mein Herr, take 
 the satchel, the small one upon the back seat with 
 the black leather lining. But do make haste." 
 
 The little foot stamped the ground impatiently, 
 for the young lord stood there with open mouth. 
 He could not comprehend how a total stranger could 
 dispose of him so nonchalantly, nor how so young a 
 girl could command in such a way. 
 
 At the last very ungracious words, however, he 
 made haste to approach and take the designated 
 satchel, which seemed the proper thing to be done. 
 
 "So," she said shortly. "You, driver, stop at the 
 post office, and now forward into the bogs of Wald- 
 hofen!" 
 
 She picked up her gray travelling dress and 
 walked close to the hedge, where the road was some- 
 what higher and dryer. 
 
 Willibald, of whom no notice was taken, trotted 
 behind her with the satchel. He had never seen
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 113 
 
 anything so graceful as this slender figure, which 
 did not reach to his shoulder, and he occupied him- 
 self in observing this figure, because he had nothing 
 else to do. 
 
 The young girl had something exceedingly 
 charming and graceful in her motions, as well as 
 her whole appearance; but the small head, with 
 the dark hair curling from under her hat, was car- 
 ried with undeniable spirit. The face was rather 
 irregular in outline, but lovely with its dark, roguish 
 eyes, while the small, rosy mouth, around which lay 
 a line of refractory defiance, and the two dimples in 
 the chin, made it perfectly charming. The gray 
 travelling dress, in spite of its plainness, was very 
 tasteful and met the requirements of fashion. The 
 young traveller apparently did not belong to the 
 home-made villagers of Waldhofen. 
 
 The road around the corner proved indeed some- 
 what dryer, but one had to keep to the little, raised 
 path near the hedge and to jump at times over damp 
 places. Conversation was, therefore, not possible, 
 and Willy, in truth, never thought of commencing 
 it. He carried the satchel patiently, accepting just 
 as patiently the fact that his companion did not con- 
 cern herself in the least about him, until, after ten 
 minutes' walk, they stood at the low gate of a 
 garden. 
 
 The young girl bent over the pickets and pushed 
 an inside bolt ; then she turned. 
 
 "Many thanks, mein Herr. Please give me my 
 satchel now." 
 
 In spite of its small dimensions, the bag was 
 rather heavy, much too heavy for the little hands 
 outstretched for it. Willibald was seized with a 
 sudden attack of chivalry not a usual fault with
 
 114 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 him and declared that he would carry it to the 
 house, which was accepted with a gracious nod. 
 
 They passed through a small, but carefully kept, 
 garden to an old, plain house, and entered through 
 the back door into a cool, dusky hall, where their ar- 
 rival was immediately perceived. An old servant 
 rushed out of the kitchen. 
 
 "Fraulein! Fraulein Marietta! Have you come 
 already to-day? Ach, what joy " 
 
 She got no further, for Marietta flew to her and 
 pressed her little hand upon her mouth. 
 
 "Be still, Babette ! Speak quietly ; I want to sur- 
 prise him. Is he at home?" 
 
 "Yes, the Herr Doctor is in his study. Do you 
 wish to go there, Fraulein ?" 
 
 "No; I will steal into the sitting room and sing 
 his favorite song. Careful now, Babette; so that 
 he does not hear us." 
 
 Like a fairy she slipped lightly and noiselessly to 
 the other side of the house and opened a door. 
 Babette followed her, not noticing, in the joy and 
 surprise of her Fraulein's return, that some one else 
 stood in the dark hall. The door was left wide 
 open, a chair was carefully moved, and directly a 
 low prelude began in trembling notes, probably from 
 a venerable old piano ; but it sounded like the music 
 of a harp, and then a voice arose, clear and sweet 
 and joyous as a lark. 
 
 It did not last many minutes, for a door opposite 
 was hastily opened, and a white-haired old man ap- 
 peared. 
 
 "Marietta, my Marietta ! is it really you ?" 
 
 "Grandpapa!" was cried back, joyfully. The 
 song broke off and Marietta threw herself upon her 
 grandfather's neck.
 
 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 115 
 
 "You naughty child, how you have frightened 
 me!" he scolded, tenderly. ''I did not expect you 
 until the day after to-morrow, and intended to meet 
 you at the station. Now I hear your voice, and do 
 not dare to believe my ears." 
 
 The young girl laughed merrily as a child. She 
 was more than happy and content. 
 
 "Yes, the surprise has been a complete success, 
 grandpapa. I drove into the lane and actually 
 stuck in the bog. I came in the back door. What 
 do you want, Babette?" 
 
 "Fraulein, the man who brought the bag is still 
 there," said the old servant, who had but just ob- 
 served the stranger. "Shall I pay him for you?" 
 
 The young lord still stood there with the satchel 
 in his hand. But now Dr. Volkmar turned and ex- 
 claimed in great embarrassment : "Gracious heavens ! 
 Herr von Eschenhagen !" 
 
 "Do you know the gentleman?" Marietta asked 
 without much surprise, for her grandfather was ac- 
 customed to meet all of Waldhofen in his office of 
 physician. 
 
 "Certainly. Babette, take the valise from the gen- 
 tleman. I beg your pardon, mein Herr. I did not 
 know that you were already acquainted with my 
 granddaughter. " 
 
 "No, we are not acquainted in the least," declared 
 the girl. "Will you not present the gentleman to 
 me, grandpapa?" 
 
 "Certainly, my child. Herr Willibald von Esch- 
 enhagen of Burgsdorf " 
 
 "Toni's betrothed!" interrupted Marietta, gaily. 
 "Oh, how funny that we should meet in the middle 
 of a bog! If I had only known, Herr von Eschen- 
 hagen, I would not have treated you so badly. I let
 
 116 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 
 
 you follow me like a regular porter. But why did 
 you not say something?" 
 
 Willibald did not say anything now, but looked 
 mutely at the little hand which was cordially ex- 
 tended to him. Feeling that he had to either say or 
 do something, he grasped the rosy little hand in his 
 giant fist and squeezed and shook it heartily. 
 
 "Oh!" cried the young lady, retreating horrified; 
 "you have an awful handshake, Herr von Eschen- 
 hagen. I believe you have broken my fingers." 
 
 Willibald turned red with confusion and stam- 
 mered an excuse. Fortunately, Dr. Volkmar now 
 invited him to enter, which invitation he accepted 
 silently, and Marietta narrated in a very laughable 
 way her meeting with him. She treated her friend's 
 betrothed like an old acquaintance, for she had long 
 known of their engagement. She asked him about 
 Toni, about the Chief Forester and all the house- 
 hold, her small, red mouth rattling on like a mill 
 wheel. 
 
 Still the young lord was almost mute. The clear 
 voice which sounded, even in talking, like the twit- 
 tering of birds, utterly confused him. 
 
 He had only met the doctor yesterday, when the 
 latter had called at Furstenstein. There had been 
 some casual mention of a certain Marietta a friend 
 of Toni's but he did not know anything further, 
 for his fiancee was not very communicative. 
 
 "And this naughty child allows you to stand in 
 the hall without ceremony, while she seats herself at 
 the piano to notify me of her arrival," said Volk- 
 mar, shaking his head. "That was very naughty, 
 Marietta." 
 
 The young girl laughed and shook her curly head. 
 
 "Oh, Herr von Eschenhagen will not be offended
 
 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 11? 
 
 at that, and therefore he may listen while I sing you 
 your favorite song again. You scarcely heard a 
 note of it before. Shall I begin now ?" 
 
 Without waiting for an answer, she ran to the 
 piano, and again that silvery, clear voice arose, en- 
 trancing the ear with its charm. She sang an old, 
 simple , carol, but it sounded as soft and sweet and 
 coaxing as if spring and sunshine had suddenly en- 
 tered the desolate rooms of the old house. It spread 
 sunshine over the face of the old, white-haired man, 
 where many a line of care and anxiety was visible. 
 He listened with a smile, half sad, half happy, to 
 the song which may have reminded him of his 
 youth. But he was not the only attentive listener. 
 
 The young lord of Burgsdorf, who two hours 
 previously had fallen asleep amidst the thunders of 
 "The Janissaries' March" who, in perfect accord 
 with his betrothed, had considered silly music a tire- 
 some thing now listened to those soft, floating 
 sounds as intently as if they brought him a revela- 
 tion. 
 
 He sat there, bent over, his eyes fixed immovably 
 upon the young girl, who apparently put all her soul 
 into the song, moving her head to and fro with an 
 infinitely graceful motion. 
 
 When the song ended he breathed deeply and 
 passed his hand across his brow. 
 
 "My little singing bird," said Dr. Volkmar, ten- 
 derly bending over his granddaughter and kissing 
 her brow. 
 
 "Well, grandpapa, my voice has not exactly de- 
 teriorated in the last few months, has it?" she asked, 
 teasingly, "but it does not seem to please Herr von 
 Eschenhagen. He does not say a word about it." 
 
 She glanced with a childish pout over at Willi-
 
 118 THE SIGtt OF FLAME. 
 
 bald, who now also arose and approached the piano. 
 A slight flush suffused his face, and his usually quiet 
 eyes flashed as he said in a low tone: "Oh, it was 
 beautiful, very beautiful !" 
 
 The young singer may have been accustomed to 
 other compliments, but she felt the deep, honest ad- 
 miration in the laconic words, and knew very well 
 the impression the song had made. She smiled, 
 therefore, as she replied: "Yes, the song is beauti- 
 ful. I have always had a regular triumph when I 
 sang it as an addition to my role." 
 
 "To your role!" replied Willibald, not under- 
 standing the expression. 
 
 "Yes, in the play from which I have just returned. 
 Oh, it has been a splendid success, grandpapa. The 
 manager would gladly have prolonged it, but I had 
 already given the greater part of my vacation to it, 
 and I wished to be with you at least a few weeks.*' 
 
 The young lord listened with increasing astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 Play! vacation! manager! What could all that 
 mean? The doctor saw his surprise. 
 
 "Herr von Eschenhagen does not know your vo- 
 cation, my child," he said, quietly. "My grand- 
 daughter has been educated for the opera." 
 
 "How dryly you say that, grandpapa!" cried 
 Marietta, springing up. Straightening herself to 
 the fullest height of her dainty figure, she added, 
 with mock solemnity: "For five months a member 
 of the highly respected Ducal Court Theatre, a per- 
 son of official honors and renown !" 
 
 Member of the Court Theatre ! Willibald almost 
 shuddered at those awful words. The obedient son 
 of his mother shared her disdain of "actresses." 
 Involuntarily he receded a step and glared horrified
 
 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 119 
 
 at the young lady who had imparted such awful 
 news to him. She laughed merrily at this motion. 
 
 "You are not compelled to show so exceeding 
 much respect and awe, Herr von Eschenhagen. I 
 will allow you to remain near the piano. Has not 
 Toni told you that I am on the stage?" 
 
 "Toni no !" Willibald burst out, having lost his 
 composure completely. "But she is waiting for me. 
 I must return to Furstenstein. I have tarried here 
 already too long." 
 
 "You are very polite," laughed the girl, gayly. 
 "That is not very flattering to us, but since you are 
 engaged you must naturally return to your fiancee." 
 
 "Yes, and to my mamma," said Willibald, who 
 had a dark feeling that something awful threatened 
 him, before which his mother appeared as a saving 
 angel. "I beg your pardon, but I have stayed here 
 already too long " 
 
 He stopped, for he remembered that he had al- 
 ready said that once, and searched for other words, 
 but could not find any, and, unhappily, repeated the 
 phrase for the third time. 
 
 Marietta almost choked with laughter, but Dr. 
 Volkmar declared politely that they did not wish to 
 detain him any longer, and begged him to take his 
 regards to the Chief Forester and Fraulein von 
 Schonan. 
 
 The young lord scarcely heard. He looked for 
 his hat, made a bow, stammered a few words of 
 adieu and ran off as if his head was burning. He 
 had but one thought that he must leave as quickly 
 as possible; that gay, teasing laugh made him 
 crazy. 
 
 When Volkmar, who had escorted Willibald to 
 the door, returned, his granddaughter was wiping
 
 120 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the tears from her eyes, quite overcome with 
 laughter. 
 
 "I believe something is wrong with Toni's be- 
 trothed here," she cried, putting a delicate ringer to 
 her forehead. "At first he ran behind me, mutely 
 carrying the bag like a fish wife ; then he seemed to 
 thaw at my singing, and now he is seized with an 
 attack of something and runs away to Furstenstein 
 to his 'mamma,' so quickly that I could not even 
 send a greeting to his betrothed." 
 
 The doctor smiled a little plaintively. He had 
 observed closely and guessed whence came this sud- 
 den change of manner in his guest. 
 
 "The young man has probably not had much in- 
 tercourse with ladies," he said, evasively; "and he 
 seems to stand somewhat in awe of his mother, but 
 he appears to please his fiancee very well, and that is 
 surely the most important thing." 
 
 "Yes, he is handsome," said Marietta, somewhat 
 thoughtfully; "even very handsome. But I believe, 
 grandpapa, he is also very stupid." 
 
 In the meantime Willibald had run like a storm to 
 the next corner, where he came to a standstill and 
 tried to collect his thoughts, which were in great 
 confusion. It was a long time before he succeeded, 
 but he looked back once more to the doctor's house 
 before he walked on. 
 
 What would his mother say to it ? She who had 
 placed the whole world of actresses under a ban; 
 and she was right. Willy plainly felt that some- 
 thing bewitching belonged to the tribe; one had to 
 beware of them. 
 
 But what if this Marietta Volkmar should take a 
 notion to visit her friend at Furstenstein? The 
 young lord ought to have been horrified at the
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 121 
 
 thought, and was convinced that he was horrified; 
 but with all that the strange flash returned to his 
 eyes. He suddenly saw in the reception room, at 
 the piano where Toni had been a little while ago, a 
 small, delicate figure, whose dark, curly head moved 
 to and fro like a bird, and the thunder of the march 
 changed into the soft, rippling notes of the old carol, 
 while between all again sounded the gay, silvery 
 laugh which also was music. 
 
 And all this loveliness must be ruined and lost 
 because it belonged to the stage ! Frau von Eschen- 
 hagen had often expressed such an opinion, and 
 Willibald was too good a son not to consider her an 
 oracle. But he heaved a deep sigh, and murmured : 
 "Oh, what a pity ; what a great pity !"
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 ABOUT half way between Furstenstein and 
 Rodeck, where the forest mountains rose to their 
 greatest height, lay the Hochberg, a popular resort 
 for sight-seeing on account of its magnificent views. 
 The old stone tower upon its summit, the last rem- 
 nant of an otherwise totally demolished castle ruin, 
 had been made an object of interest, and at its foot 
 nestled a little inn, which entertained numerous 
 guests from the neighborhood. Strangers did not 
 often come into these almost unknown forest moun- 
 tains and valleys. Visitors of any sort were some- 
 what rare now in the fall, but to-day's beautiful 
 weather had enticed several people out on the trip. 
 Half an hour ago two gentlemen had arrived on 
 horseback, attended by a groom, and now a carriage, 
 bringing more sight-seers, drove up to the inn. 
 
 Upon the flat roof of the tower, near the stone 
 breastwork, stood the two gentlemen, the younger 
 one zealously occupied in pointing out and explain- 
 ing the various points of interest. 
 
 "Yes, our Hochberg is renowned for its views." 
 he said. "I was obliged to show them to you, Hart- 
 mut. Is not the view over this wide, green forest 
 ocean incomparable?" 
 
 Hartmut did not answer ; he seemed to be looking 
 through the glass for some distant point. 
 
 "Where is Furstenstein? Ah, there. It seeir.s 
 
 to be an enormous old structure." 
 
 122
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 123 
 
 "Yes, the castle is worth seeing," assented Prince 
 Adelsberg. "But, outside of that, you were wise to 
 remain at home the other day ; I was bored to death 
 by the visit." 
 
 "So? You seemed to think a great deal of the 
 Chief Forester." 
 
 "Certainly, I like to chat with him; but he had 
 driven out and returned only just before I left. His 
 son is not at Furstenstein. He is studying at the 
 school for foresters, so I had to wait upon Fraulein 
 von Schonan ; but that pleasure was not exactly in- 
 teresting. A word every five minutes and a minute 
 to every word. Very many domestic virtues, but 
 very little behind the forehead. I kept the conver- 
 sation going by the sweat of my brow, and then had 
 the honor of meeting the betrothed of the Baroness 
 a genuine, undiluted country squire, with a very 
 energetic mamma, who has him and the future 
 daughter-in-law under complete control. We had 
 an exceedingly brilliant conversation, finally landing 
 on turnip culture, in which I was thoroughly in- 
 structed. The visit was bearable only when the 
 Chief Forester returned with his brother-in-law, the 
 Baron Wallmoden." 
 
 Rojanow still held the glass directed upon Fur- 
 stenstein, listening, apparently, indifferently. Now 
 he repeated questioningly : "Wallmoden?" 
 
 "The new Prussian Ambassador to our court, a 
 genuine diplomat in appearance; aristocratic, cool 
 and buttoned up to the chin ; also having very agree- 
 able manners. Her Excellency, the Frau Baroness, 
 was not visible, which I bore with composure, since 
 the husband already has gray hair, and consequently 
 the lady would probably be of an age which one ap- 
 proaches only with veneration,"
 
 124 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 A peculiarly bitter expression played around 
 Hartmut's lips as he now lowered the glass. 
 
 He had kept his encounter with Frau von Wall- 
 moden from his friend. Why mention the name? 
 He wished to be reminded of it as little as possible. 
 
 "But our romantic forest solitude will soon be 
 ended," continued Egon. "I heard from the Chief 
 Forester that the court will come to Furstenstein 
 this year for the hunting season, and I can then ex- 
 pect a visit from the Duke. I am not very delighted 
 at the prospect, for my highly honored uncle has a 
 habit of holding forth to me just as frequent and 
 just as impressive moral sermons as Stadinger, and 
 I must naturally keep the peace then. But I shall 
 present you at this visit, Hartmut. You consent?" 
 
 "If you consider it necessary, and the etiquette of 
 your court allows " 
 
 "Bah! the etiquette is not so strictly adhered to 
 with us. Besides, the Rojanows belong to the no- 
 bility of your country, do they not?" 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "Well. then, you are in every case entitled to the 
 presentation. I consider it by all means desirable, 
 for I have set my mind on seeing your 'Arivana' at 
 our Court Theatre ; and as soon as the Duke knows 
 you and your work, that will be done beyond a 
 doubt." 
 
 The words betrayed the passionate admiration the 
 young Prince felt for his friend ; but the latter only 
 shrugged his shoulders slightly. 
 
 "Possibly, particularly if you plead for me; but I 
 do not like to succeed under protection. I am no 
 poet of renown. Indeed, I'm not sure whether I 
 am a poet ; and if my work cannot smooth a way for 
 itself "
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 125 
 
 "You would be obstinate enough to keep it from 
 publicity; that is like you. Have you no ambition 
 at all?" 
 
 "Perhaps only too much, and from that arises 
 originally what you call my obstinacy. I never 
 could bow down and subordinate myself in life. I 
 could not ; my whole nature rose against it, and I am 
 not at all suited to the ways of your court." 
 
 "Who told you that?" laughed Egon. "They 
 will flatter and spoil you there, just like everywhere 
 else. It is your nature to rise everywhere like a 
 meteor, and one does not expect these stars to travel 
 in old routes. Besides, you have from the start the 
 exceptional position of guest and foreigner, and 
 when you are once summoned by the halo of poesy, 
 then " 
 
 "Then it is with that you intend to keep me here 
 in your country?" 
 
 "Well, then, yes. I do not think that I alone 
 possess the power to keep you here permanently, you 
 wild, restless guest ; but a rising poet's name is a fet- 
 ter which one does not slip off so easily, and I have 
 sworn to myself since this morning not to let you go 
 again at any price." 
 
 Rojanow started and looked at him inquiringly. 
 
 "Why just since this morning?" 
 
 "That is my secret for the present," said Egon, 
 jestingly. 
 
 "Ah, more guests are coming here, it seems." 
 
 A step was heard upon the narrow, winding stone 
 stairs, and the bearded face of the tower watch- 
 man appeared at the opening which led to the 
 platform. 
 
 "Please take care, gracious lady," he said, warn- 
 ingly, looking back with concern; "the last steps are
 
 126 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 very steep and much worn. So, now we are at the 
 top." 
 
 He offered a helping hand to the lady who fol- 
 lowed him, but she did not need it, ascending easily 
 with effort. 
 
 "What a beautiful girl !" whispered Prince Adels- 
 berg to his friend, who, instead of replying, made a 
 deep and formal bow before the lady. She could 
 not conceal a certain surprise at the sight of him. 
 "Ah, Herr Rojanow, you here?" 
 
 "I am admiring the view from the Hochberg, 
 which may also have attracted you, Your Excel- 
 lency." 
 
 The face of the Prince betrayed boundless aston- 
 ishment when the "beautiful girl" was called "Ex- 
 cellency," and when he saw that she was not a 
 stranger to his friend. He speedily drew near for 
 an introduction to this acquaintance, and Hartmut 
 could not avoid presenting the Prince Adelsberg to 
 the Baroness Wallmoden. 
 
 He touched upon the forest encounter very 
 lightly, for the lady found it convenient to-day to 
 enshroud herself in her haughty reserve. It was 
 hardly necessary, for Rojanow observed the strictest 
 reticence. Both seemed decided to treat the ac- 
 quaintance as a very slight and formal one. 
 
 Egon had thrown a glance of the liveliest re- 
 proach upon his friend. He could not understand 
 how Hartmut could have kept such a meeting to 
 himself; but, after that, he cast himself with ardor 
 into the conversation. He announced himself a 
 neighbor, mentioned his recent call at Furstenstein, 
 and expressed his regret at having missed Frau von 
 Wallmoden at that time. A conversation was com- 
 menced, in which the Prince exhibited his amiability
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 127 
 
 and vivacity, while retaining the reserve of eti- 
 quette. He knew from the beginning that he stood 
 before the wife of the Ambassador, whom one could 
 not approach with a bold compliment, as Hartmut 
 had ventured. 
 
 Finally his happy, unaffected good humor suc- 
 ceeded in diminishing the icy atmosphere which sur- 
 rounded the beautiful woman, and he had the good 
 fortune of being permitted to show and explain to 
 her the surrounding country.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HARTMUT did not join in the conversation with 
 his usual vivacity, and when he again drew out the 
 glass from his pocket, at the Prince's request, he 
 suddenly missed his letter-case. 
 
 The watchman offered at once to look for it, but 
 Rojanow declared he would do it himself. He re- 
 membered exactly the place where something had 
 slipped to the floor when he came up the stairs, 
 which he had not noticed at the time. It was the 
 letter-case, no doubt, and he would find it with little 
 trouble and return. Saying which, he bowed and 
 departed. 
 
 Under other circumstances Egon would doubtless 
 have thought it strange that his friend should refuse 
 the offer of the old man and take upon himself the 
 trouble of searching the dark stairway, but he was 
 at present so totally occupied with his office of ex- 
 planatory exhibitor that he did not seem to regret 
 being left alone. 
 
 Frau von Wallmoden had accepted the glass 
 which he offered her and followed with apparent at- 
 tention his explanations as he pointed out all the 
 various heights and villages. 
 
 "And over yonder, behind those hills, lies Ro- 
 deck," he concluded ; "the little hunting lodge where 
 we live like two hermits, cut off from all the world, 
 having only the company of monkeys and parrots, 
 which we brought from the Orient, and which have 
 
 already become quite melancholy." 
 
 \m
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 129 
 
 "You do not look at all like a hermit, Your High- 
 ness," said the young Baroness, with a fleeting 
 smile. 
 
 "In truth, I have not much taste for it; but at 
 times Hartmut has perfect attacks of the ailment, 
 and then I bury myself in solitude for weeks for his 
 pleasure." 
 
 "Hartmut! That is a thoroughly German name, 
 and it is also surprising that Herr Rojanow speaks 
 German with such fluency and without even a for- 
 eign intonation. Yet he introduced himself to me 
 as a foreigner." 
 
 "Certainly. He comes from Roumania, but was 
 raised by relatives in Germany, from whom also he 
 may have inherited the German name," said the 
 Prince, simply. 
 
 It was plainly to be seen that he knew nothing 
 further of the origin of his. friend. "I became ac- 
 quainted with him at Paris, when I was about to 
 begin my trip to the East, and he decided to accom- 
 pany me. It was my good star of fortune that 
 brought him to me." 
 
 "You seem infatuated with your friend." 
 
 There was something like disapprobation in the 
 tone. 
 
 "Yes, Your Excellency, I am indeed," affirmed 
 Egon, warmly ; "and not I alone. Hartmut is one of 
 those genial natures who conquers and wins people 
 by storm wherever he appears. You should see and 
 hear him when he is heart and soul enthusiastic. 
 Then his soul flames like fire into yours. He en- 
 velops everything with his warmth ; one has to fol- 
 low where his flight leads." 
 
 The enthusiastic eulogy found a very cool listener. 
 The young lady seemed to bend all he.r attention
 
 130 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 upon the landscape, as she replied: "You may be 
 correct. Herr Rojanow's eyes betray something of 
 it, but such fiery natures make upon me an impres- 
 sion more uncanny than sympathetic." 
 
 "Perhaps because they bear the demoniac lines 
 which are peculiar to genius. Hartmut has them. 
 He startles me sometimes, and yet the dark depths 
 of his nature draw me irresistibly to him. I have 
 actually forgotten how to live without him and shall 
 try everything to retain him in our country." 
 
 "In Germany? You will hardly succeed in that, 
 Your Highness. Herr Rojanow has a poor opinion 
 of our fatherland. He betrayed that to me the day 
 before yesterday in rather an offensive way." 
 
 The Prince became attentive. The words at once 
 explained the cold reserve, which was not usually 
 Hartmut's manner toward a beautiful woman, and 
 which had surprised him at the first moment. But 
 he smiled. 
 
 "Ah, that was the reason why he did not speak of 
 the encounter. Your Excellency has probably 
 shown him your displeasure. It serves him right. 
 Why does he prevaricate with such persistency? 
 He has irritated me often enough with this assumed 
 depreciation, which I accepted then in good faith; 
 but I know better now." 
 
 "You do not believe in it?" Adelaide suddenly 
 turned from the view to the speaker. 
 
 "No, I have the proof of it in my hands. He is 
 infatuated with our German land. You look at me 
 incredulously, Your Excellency. May I impart a 
 secret to you?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "I was looking for Hartmut this morning in his 
 room, but did not find him, I found, instead, a
 
 SIGN" OF FLAME. 131 
 
 poem upon his desk, which he had probably forgot- 
 ten to lock up, for it was surely not intended for my 
 eyes. I stole it, without any compunction of con- 
 science, and carry the spoils still with me. Will you 
 permit me to read it ?" 
 
 "I do not understand the Roumanian language," 
 said Frau von Wallmoden, with cool satire. "Herr 
 Rojanow has scarcely condescended to compose a 
 poem in German." 
 
 Instead of answering, Egon drew out the paper 
 and opened it. "You are prejudiced against my 
 friend ; I see it. But I do not like you to regard him 
 in the wrong light in which he has placed himself. 
 May I justify him with his own words?" 
 
 "If you please." 
 
 The words sounded indifferent, and yet Adelaide's 
 gaze was riveted with a strange expectancy upon the 
 paper, which seemed to contain only a few hastily 
 written stanzas. Egon read. 
 
 They were German verses, indeed ; but of a per- 
 fection and harmony which could belong only to a 
 master of the language. The pictures they conjured 
 up before the listener were strangely familiar. 
 Deep, dreamy forest solitude, touched by the first 
 breath of approaching autumn ; endless green depths 
 which beckoned and charmed irresistibly with their 
 twilight shadows; aromatic meadows flooded with 
 sunlight; small, still waters, which gleamed in the 
 distance, and the foaming forest brook roaring 
 down from the heights. 
 
 And this picture had taken on life and language. 
 That which whispered in it was the old, old song of 
 the forest itself; its murmuring and rustling its 
 mysterious working gathered into words which en- 
 chanted the ear of the listener like melody, while
 
 132 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 through it all floated and moaned a deep, unspeak- 
 able longing for this forest peace. 
 
 The Prince read warmly at first, then with great 
 enthusiasm. Now he dropped the sheet and asked 
 triumphantly : 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 The young Baroness had listened spellbound. 
 She did not look at the reader, but stared motionless 
 into the blue distance. At the question she started 
 slightly and hastily turned. 
 
 "What did you say, Your Highness?" 
 
 "Is this the language of a depredator of our 
 fatherland? I believe not," said Egon in most de- 
 cided tones, but greatly as he was engrossed with 
 his friend's poetry, he could still notice how excep- 
 tionally beautiful Frau von Wallmoden looked at 
 this moment. 
 
 Of course, it must have been the setting sun which 
 lent the rosy coloring to her face and the brilliancy 
 to her eyes, for her bearing was as cold as her 
 answer. 
 
 "It is really surprising that a foreigner should 
 command the German language so perfectly." 
 
 Egon looked at her in amazement. Was this all ? 
 He had expected a different impression. "And 
 what do you think of the poem itself?" he asked. 
 
 "Quite excellent. Herr Rojanow seems indeed 
 to possess much poetic talent. But here is your 
 glass, Your Highness. I thank you. I must be 
 thinking of the descent now, as I do not wish to keep 
 my husband waiting too long." 
 
 Egon folded up the paper slowly and deposited it 
 in his breast pocket. He felt the icy breath now 
 surround again the beautiful woman, which chilled 
 him to the heart.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 133 
 
 "I already have the honor of an acquaintance with 
 His Excellency," he said. "May I renew it to- 
 day?" 
 
 A slight bow gave the permission to accompany 
 her. They left the platform, but the Prince had 
 grown somewhat monosyllabic. He felt offended 
 for his friend, and now regretted having given this 
 poetry, the beauty of which carried him away, to a 
 lady who had no understanding of, nor appreciation 
 whatever for, poetry.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 HARTMUT descended the stairs slowly after his 
 leave-taking, the lost letter-case resting safely in its 
 usual place. It had served its purpose as a pretext 
 to free its possessor a little while. 
 
 Adelaide von Wallmoden had casually mentioned 
 having come with her husband, who remained down 
 at the inn because he disliked the troublesome climb- 
 ing of the steep stairs. 
 
 Hartmut could not therefore evade a meeting 
 with him, but it should at least take place without 
 witnesses. If Wallmoden should recognize the son 
 of his friend, whom he had known only as a boy, he 
 might not be able to master his surprise. 
 
 Hartmut did not fear this meeting, even if it were 
 inconvenient and uncomfortable to him. There was 
 but one face in the whole world he feared only one 
 face to which he would not dare lift his eyes and 
 that face was far away; probably he would never 
 see it again. Every one else he met with the proud 
 defiance ol a man who had only done right in with- 
 drawing from a hated vocation. 
 
 He was decided upon not permitting any expres- 
 sion of reproach, but, if he should be recognized, to 
 request the Ambassador in the most decided manner 
 to consider certain old connections, with which he 
 had so totally broken, as no longer existing. With 
 this conclusion he emerged into the open air. 
 
 Herbert Wallmoden sat with his sister upon the 
 
 134
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 135 
 
 little veranda of the inn. The Chief Forester had 
 been too much occupied with the approaching ar- 
 rival of the court, the hunting expeditions of which 
 he had to arrange, to accompany the party. The 
 betrothed couple had also remained at home ; but the 
 day for the little trip could not have been more 
 pleasant. 
 
 "This Hochberg is really worth seeing," said 
 Frau von Eschenhagen, her eyes roaming over the 
 country. "We have almost the same view here as 
 upon the top of the tower. Why climb and over- 
 heat oneself and lose one's breath on those never- 
 ending steps?" 
 
 "Adelaide was of a different opinion," replied 
 Wallmoden, with a casual glance at the tower. 
 "She does not know fatigue nor how to get over- 
 heated." 
 
 "And also how not to catch cold. She proved 
 that the day before yesterday, when she came home 
 drenched through. She did not catch the least 
 cold." 
 
 "Nevertheless, I have requested her to take an 
 escort for her future walks," said the Ambassador, 
 calmly. "To get lost in the forest, wade a creek, 
 and be guided to the right path by the first hunter 
 one comes across are things which must not occur 
 again. Adelaide agreed with me and promised im- 
 mediately to obey my wishes." 
 
 "Yes, she is a sensible woman, a thoroughly 
 healthy nature from which anything romantic or 
 adventurous is far removed," complimented Regine. 
 "But there seem to be more visitors upon the tower. 
 I thought we should be the only guests to-day." 
 
 Wallmoden looked indifferently at the tall, slen- 
 der gentleman who now emerged from the small
 
 136 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 tower door and walked toward the inn. Frau von 
 Eschenhagen also looked at him carelessly ; but sud- 
 denly her glance grew keener, and she started. 
 
 "Herbert look!" 
 
 "Where?" 
 
 "That stranger there. What a strange resem- 
 blance!" 
 
 "To whom?" asked Herbert, growing more at- 
 tentive and looking sharply at the stranger. 
 
 "To impossible! That is not only a resem- 
 blance. It is he himself." 
 
 She sprang up, pale with excitement, and her look 
 fastened itself upon the features of the man just 
 now putting his foot upon the first step of the 
 veranda. She met his eyes, those dark, glowing 
 eyes, which had so often shone upon her from the 
 face of the boy, and the last doubt disappeared. 
 
 "Hartmut Hartmut Falkenried you " 
 
 She was suddenly silenced by Wallmoden's lay- 
 ing his hand heavily upon her arm and saying 
 slowly, but with emphasis: "You are mistaken, 
 Regine. We do not know this gentleman." 
 
 Hartmut stopped short when he caught sight of 
 Frau von Eschenhagen, who had been hidden by the 
 foliage. He was not prepared for her presence. 
 At the moment he recognized her the words of the 
 Ambassador reached his ear. He knew that icy 
 tone only too well ; it forced the blood to his brow. 
 
 "Herbert!" Regine looked doubtingly at her 
 brother, who still held her by the arm. 
 
 "We do not know him," he repeated in the same 
 tone. 
 
 "Is it possible that I have to tell you that, 
 Regine?" 
 
 She understood now his meaning. With a half
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 137 
 
 threatening, half painful glance, she turned her back 
 upon the son of her friend and said, with deep bit- 
 terness : 
 
 "You are right. I was mistaken." 
 
 Hartmut started, and in rising anger he drew a 
 step nearer. 
 
 "Herr von Wallmoden !" 
 
 "Did you speak to me?" The tone was as sting- 
 ing and scornful as before. 
 
 "You have anticipated my wishes, Your Excel- 
 lency," said Hartmut, forcing himself to be calm. 
 "I wished to ask you not to recognize me. We are 
 strangers to each other." 
 
 He turned and walked off defiantly, tall and erect, 
 and entered the house by another door. 
 
 Wallmoden looked after him with darkened brow. 
 Then he turned to his sister. 
 
 "Could you not control yourself better, Regine? 
 Why have a scene at such a meeting? This Hart- 
 mut does not exist any longer for us." 
 
 Regine's face betrayed only too well how much 
 this encounter had shocked her. Her lips still 
 quivered as she replied : 
 
 "I am no practiced diplomat like you, Herbert. I 
 have not learned to be still when one whom I 
 thought dead or ruined suddenly appears before 
 me." 
 
 "Dead ? that was hardly to be expected at his age. 
 Ruined, corrupted? that might be nearer it. His 
 life up to the present moment has lain in that di- 
 rection." 
 
 "Do you know about it ?" Frau von Eschenhagen 
 started with surprise. "Do you know of his life?" 
 
 "Partly. Falkenried was too much my friend for 
 me not to investigate what became of his son. Of
 
 138 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 course, I was silent to him as well as you concerning 
 it; but as soon as I had returned to my office that 
 time, I used our diplomatic relations, which reach 
 everywhere, to inquire about it." 
 
 "Well, what did you learn?" 
 
 "Principally only that which was to be expected. 
 Zalika had turned her steps directly homeward with 
 her son. You know that her stepfather our cousin 
 Wallmoden was already dead when she returned 
 to her mother after the divorce. The connections 
 on our side were thereby broken off, but I learned 
 that shortly before Zalika's reappearance in Ger- 
 many she had come into the possession of the Roja- 
 now estates." 
 
 "Zalika? Did she not have a brother?" 
 
 "Yes, he had charge of the estates for ten years, 
 but died, unmarried, from an accident while hunt- 
 ing, and, since his mother's second marriage had re- 
 sulted in no descendant, Zalika entered now upon 
 the inheritance at least in name for through the 
 reckless management of the Bojar, the most of it 
 belonged to the Jews. Nevertheless, she now felt 
 herself master, and planned the coup of getting pos- 
 session of her son. The old, wild life was then con- 
 tinued upon the estates for a few years, with sense- 
 less management, until everything was gone. Then 
 mother and son, like a couple of gypsies, went out 
 into the wide world." 
 
 Wallmoden narrated this with the same cold con- 
 tempt which he had shown to Hartmut, and the 
 same horror and aversion were pictured in the face 
 of his sister that strictly duteous and moral lady. 
 Nevertheless, a certain degree of sympathy was in 
 her voice as she asked: "And you have not heard 
 anything of them since?"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 139 
 
 "Yes, several times. A casual mention of the 
 name led me to the track. While I was at the em- 
 bassy at Florence, they were in Rome; a few years 
 later they appeared in Paris, and there I heard of 
 the death of Frau Zalika Rojanow." 
 
 "So she is dead," said Frau von Eschenhagen, in 
 a low voice. "What do you think they have lived 
 on all these years?" 
 
 Wallmoden shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "What do all adventurers who wander homeless 
 over the world live on? They may perhaps have 
 saved something from the wreck, perhaps not. At 
 any rate, they visited all the salons in Paris and 
 Rome. A woman like Zalika finds help and protec- 
 tion everywhere. She had the title of nobility as 
 daughter of a Bojar, and the forced sale of the Rou- 
 mania property was probably not known, so it played 
 a prominent part in their success. Society opens its 
 doors only too quickly to this element if it knows 
 how to keep up appearances, which seems to have 
 been the case here. By what means, that, of course, 
 is another question." 
 
 "But Hartmut, whom she forcibly carried into 
 such a life what of him?" 
 
 "An adventurer what else?" said the Ambassa- 
 dor, with intense harshness. "He always had an in- 
 clination that way; he will have developed finely in 
 such a school. I have not heard anything of him 
 since the death of his mother, three years ago." 
 
 "And you kept it a secret from me ?" said Regine, 
 reproachfully. 
 
 "I wished to spare you. You had taken this 
 scoundrel this Hartmut too much into your 
 heart. I was afraid you might be carried away in a 
 hint to Falkenried,"
 
 140 -THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "You took unnecessary pains. I have ventured 
 but once to speak of the past to Falkenried. He 
 looked at me I shall never forget that look and 
 said, with an awful expression: 'My son is dead 
 you know that, Regine. Let the dead rest!' I 
 shall certainly not mention that name to him again." 
 
 "Then I do not need to caution you when you 
 return home," replied Wallmoden. "But you ought 
 not to speak of it to Willibald, either. His good 
 nature might play him a trick when he learns that 
 his once great friend lives in the neighborhood. It 
 is best for him to hear nothing of it. I shall cer- 
 tainly ignore this gentleman at a possible second 
 meeting, and Adelaide does not know him at all. 
 She does not even know that Falkenried had a 
 son." 
 
 He broke off and arose, for his young wife now 
 appeared in the door of the tower. 
 
 Prince Adelsberg renewed the acquaintance of 
 yesterday and inquired innocently if his friend, 
 Rojanow, had passed by here. He could not ex- 
 plain his absence. 
 
 A glance from Wallmoden warned his sister, who 
 was proof this time against surprise. Wallmoden 
 himself regretted not having seen the gentleman, 
 and said that he was just about to leave with his 
 wife and sister, having only awaited the former's 
 return. The order for the carriage was given at 
 once, to which Egon accompanied them, taking leave 
 of them with a deep bow, but following the carriage 
 with attentive eyes. 
 
 Hartmut stood alone at a window of the inn, also 
 observing the departure. The same ashy paleness 
 again overspread his face, which had gleamed there 
 at the first mention of the name of Wallmoden ; but
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 141 
 
 now it was the whiteness of a wild anger which al- 
 most shocked him. 
 
 He had expected questions and reproaches, which, 
 of course, he had intended to refute haughtily; but 
 was met instead with a complete ignoring, which 
 was a deadly insult to his pride. Wallmoden's harsh 
 warning to his sister, "We do not know him have 
 I to remind you of that ?" had wrought up his whole 
 being. He felt the annihilation contained in it. 
 And the woman, who had always shown him a 
 mother's love even Frau von Eschenhagen had 
 joined her brother in turning her back upon him, as 
 upon a person one is ashamed to have once known. 
 This was too much. 
 
 "Well, here you are!" Egon's voice came from 
 the door. "You disappeared as if the earth had 
 swallowed you. Has the unlucky letter-case been 
 found?" 
 
 Rojanow turned. He was obliged to recall the 
 pretext he had used. 
 
 "Yes, indeed," he answered absently, "it lay upon 
 the stairs." 
 
 "Well, the guide would have found it just as well. 
 Why did you not come back ? Very polite of you to 
 leave Frau von Wallmoden and me without cere- 
 mony. You have not even taken leave of the lady. 
 His Excellency's highest displeasure is sure to fall 
 upon you." 
 
 "I shall know how to bear the misfortune," said 
 Hartmut, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 The Prince drew near and laid his hand jestingly 
 upon his friend's shoulder. 
 
 "So? It is probably because you fell into dis- 
 grace yesterday. It is not your usual way to run 
 off where the entertainment of a beautiful lady is
 
 143 THE SIGN OF FLAME, 
 
 concerned. Oh, I know all about it. Her Excel- 
 lency has given you a lecture over your loving ti- 
 rades against Germany, and the spoiled favorite has 
 been offended. Why, one could afford to be told 
 the truth by such lips." 
 
 "You seem to be quite transported," sneered Hart- 
 mut. "Beware lest the husband be not jealous in 
 spite of his years." 
 
 "It is a strange couple," said Egon musingly, as if 
 lost in thought; "that old diplomat, with his gray 
 hair and immovable face, and his young wife with 
 her brilliant beauty like " 
 
 "An aurora which rises from a sea of ice. It is 
 only a question of which stood furthest below zero." 
 
 The young Prince laughed heartily. "Very poet- 
 ical and very malicious ; but you are not far wrong. 
 I have also felt something of this polar breath touch- 
 ing me chillingly several times ; but that is my luck. 
 Otherwise I would fall hopelessly in love with the 
 beautiful Excellency. But I think it is time for us 
 to leave, nicht ivahr?" 
 
 He went to the door to call the groom. Hartmut 
 following, threw one more glance out to where, 
 through an opening in the forest, the Ambassador's 
 carriage was again visible, and his hands clinched 
 involuntarily. 
 
 "We shall speak yet, Herr Wallmoden," he mut- 
 tered. "I shall remain now. He shall not think 
 that I fly from his presence. I shall allow Egon to 
 present me at court, and exert my utmost to make 
 my work a success. We shall see then if he dares 
 treat me like a first-class adventurer. He shall pay 
 for that tone and look !"
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 EVERYTHING at Furstenstein was in a state of 
 preparation for the arrival of the Court. Their stay 
 was to be of longer duration than for a short hunt- 
 ing expedition; they were to remain several weeks, 
 for which time the Duchess also was expected. The 
 upper stories of the castle, with their numerous 
 suites of rooms, were being aired and put in order. 
 A portion of the court officials and servants had al- 
 ready arrived. Extensive and festive preparations 
 were also being made in Waldhofen, through which 
 the Court was to pass on its way to the castle. 
 
 Wallmoden's stay, which, under ordinary circum- 
 stances, would have been short, was prolonged. The 
 Duke, who was pleased to distinguish the Ambas- 
 sador in every way, had heard of his attending a 
 family fete at Furstenstein, and had expressed a 
 wish to find him and his wife still there. The in- 
 vitation was equivalent to a command which had to 
 be obeyed. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen and her son also wished to 
 remain to look at the Court in close proximity ; and 
 the Chief Forester, who wished to distinguish him- 
 self in the probably extensive hunts, held daily con- 
 ferences with the Head Forester and his subordi- 
 nates, and put the whole forestry in motion. 
 
 There was much bustle already about the castle. 
 A sound of merry chattering and clear laughter 
 came from Fraulein von Schonan's room. Mari-
 
 144 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 etta Volkmar had come to her friend for an hour, 
 and as usual there was no end to the talking and 
 laughing. 
 
 Toni sat near the window, and Willibald, who 
 was acting as guard at his mother's command, stood 
 beside her. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen so far had not had her 
 way about the intercourse of the two girls. Her 
 brother-in-law had remained obstinate, and even her 
 future daughter-in-law, usually so compliant, ren- 
 dered unexpected resistance when the subject was 
 broached. 
 
 "I cannot, dear Aunt," Toni had answered. 
 "Marietta is so sweet and good that I cannot offend 
 her so bitterly." 
 
 Sweet and good! Frau Regine shrugged her 
 shoulders over the inexperience of the young girl, 
 whose eyes she did not wish to open, but she felt 
 bound to interfere, and concluded to act diplomatic- 
 ally this time. 
 
 Willibald, accustomed to confess everything to his 
 mother, had narrated to a fine point the encounter 
 with the young singer. Frau von Eschenhagen had 
 naturally been beside herself to think that the master 
 of Burgsdorf should have carried a satchel behind 
 the "theatre princess!" On the other hand, she 
 heard the description of his horror upon learning 
 who this lady really was, and his running away, with 
 high pleasure, and thought it exceedingly praise- 
 worthy that he objected to the role of guard over 
 the girl. Of course he disliked every touch with 
 such a person ; but since his mother found it beneath 
 her dignity to attend these meetings, he must pro- 
 tect his bride-elect. 
 
 He was given the curt command to never leave
 
 .THE SIGN OF FLAME. 145 
 
 the young ladies alone, but to report explicitly how 
 this Marietta actually behaved herself. After the 
 first report, which would undoubtedly be atrocious, 
 Frau Regine would impress upon her brother-in- 
 law's conscience the frivolous association he had 
 allowed his child; would call upon her son as wit- 
 ness, and request emphatically the breaking off of 
 the friendship. 
 
 Willibald had finally consented. He had been 
 present when Fraulein Volkmar made her first visit 
 to Furstenstein. He had accompanied his fiancee 
 when she returned the call at Waldhofen, and now 
 stood at his post to-day. 
 
 Antonie and Marietta talked about the expected 
 arrival of the Court, and the former, who had but 
 little taste in dress, asked her friend's advice, which 
 was gladly given. 
 
 "What must you wear? Roses, of course," said 
 Marietta; "white or delicate-colored ones. They 
 will look lovely with the dainty blue." 
 
 "But I do not like roses," declared Toni. "I in- 
 tended to wear asters " 
 
 "Then why not sunflowers? Do you wish to ap- 
 pear autumnal in spite of everything, although you 
 are a young girl and a bride-elect? And how can 
 you help liking roses? I love them passionately 
 and use them at every opportunity. I wanted so 
 much to wear a rose in my hair at the Mayor's party 
 to-night, and am quite unhappy because none are 
 to be found anywhere in Waldhofen. Of course it 
 is late in the season." 
 
 "The gardener has roses in the hothouse," re- 
 marked Antonie in the sleepy manner which was 
 such a sharp contrast to her vivacious friend. 
 
 The latter shook her head laughingly.
 
 14S THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "They are doubtless for the Duchess' use, and we 
 poor mortals dare not venture to ask for one. 
 What's the use? I must deny myself that pleas- 
 ure But to return to the dress question. You 
 
 are quite superfluous in this, Herr von Eschen- 
 hagen. You do not understand a thing about it and 
 must be bored to death, but in spite of it you do not 
 waver nor move; besides, what is there so remark- 
 able about me that you look at me so constantly?" 
 
 The words sounded very ungracious. Willy 
 started, for the last reproach was well founded. He 
 had been meditating upon how a fresh, half-open 
 rose would look in the dark, curly locks, and, of 
 course, had to subject the curls and the head be- 
 longing to them to a minute observation, which his 
 fiancee had passed unnoticed. 
 
 "Yes, Willy, go," she now said good-naturedly. 
 "You must really feel bored over our dress affairs, 
 and I have much to talk over yet with Marietta." 
 
 "Just as you wish, dear Toni," returned the young 
 lord; "but may I not come back?" 
 
 "Of course, as soon as you wish." 
 
 Willibald left the room, not in the least remem- 
 bering that he was deserting his post. He was 
 thinking of something quite different as he stood for 
 a few moments in the little ante-room. In conse- 
 quence of this meditation he finally descended the 
 stairs and turned his steps straight to the house of 
 the castle gardener. 
 
 He had scarcely left when Marietta sprang up 
 and exclaimed with comic vehemence: "Gracious 
 heavens! what a tiresome couple you are!" 
 
 "But, Marietta " 
 
 "Yes, whether you are offended or not, I declare 
 it is a sacrifice to friendship to stand it in your
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 presence, and I had anticipated such a jolly time 
 when I heard you were engaged. You were never 
 particularly lively, but your betrothed seems to have 
 lost his speech entirely. How did you manage to 
 become engaged ? Did he actually speak then, or 
 did his mamma attend to that?" 
 
 "Stop your foolishness," replied Antonie, dis- 
 pleased. "Willy is only so silent in your presence. 
 He can be quite entertaining when we are alone." 
 
 "Yes, over the new threshing machine he has 
 bought. When I came I listened a moment before 
 T entered. He was singing the praise of the before- 
 mentioned threshing machine, and you were listen- 
 ing attentively. Oh, you will reign as a model 
 couple, but may heaven protect me in mercy from 
 such a marriageable blessing!" 
 
 "You are very naughty. Marietta," said the young 
 Baroness, now really angry, but her mischievous 
 little friend instantly clung to her neck. 
 
 "Don't be mad, Toni. I do not mean any harm, 
 and wish you happiness with all my heart, but you 
 see my husband has to be of a different nature." 
 
 "Ah, and how, pray?" asked Toni, half pouting, 
 half reconciled by the coaxing plea. 
 
 "First, he has to be under my command, and not 
 under his mother's. Second, he must be a genuine 
 man in whose protection I feel safe. He need not 
 talk much I do that but he must love me so much 
 so much that he will not talk about papa or 
 mamma, or his estates, or the new threshing ma- 
 chine, but let them all go if only he has me." 
 
 Toni shrugged her shoulders with compassionate 
 superiority. 
 
 "You have very childish views at times, Marietta 
 but now let us talk about the dresses."
 
 148 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 
 
 "Yes, we will, before your elect returns and posts 
 himself at our side like a guard. He has a remark- 
 able talent for mounting guard. Now, you wear 
 with the blue silk " 
 
 The pending question was not destined to receive 
 a solution this time, either, for the door opened and 
 Frau von Eschenhagen entered, calling for Antonie, 
 whose presence was desired elsewhere. 
 
 Antonie arose obediently and left the room. Frau 
 Regine made no effort to follow her, but took her 
 vacant seat at the window instead. 
 
 The reigning mistress of Burgsdorf was not dip- 
 lomatically inclined like her brother ; she had to in- 
 terfere everywhere with force. She had become 
 impatient, for Willy had as good as reported noth- 
 ing. He grew red and stammered every time he 
 should have repeated what the "theatre princess" 
 had said and done, and his mother, who would not 
 believe in a harmless girls' chat, concluded to take 
 the affair in her own hands. 
 
 Marietta had dutifully risen at the entrance of the 
 older lady, whom she had scarcely seen at the first 
 visit, and whose hostile bearing she had not ob- 
 served in the joy of the first meeting. She only 
 thought that Toni's future mother-in-law had little 
 friendliness about her, but troubled herself no fur- 
 ther about the severe lady who was now meas- 
 uring her from head to foot, with the stern mien of 
 a judge. 
 
 In point of fact this Marietta looked just like 
 other young girls, but she was pretty very pretty, 
 which was that much worse. She wore her hair in 
 short curls that was improper; other bad attri- 
 butes would doubless make their appearance in the 
 conversation which was now begun.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 149 
 
 "You are a friend of the fiancee of my son?" 
 
 "Yes, gracious lady," was the unembarrassed re- 
 joinder. 
 
 "A friendship which dates from childhood, as you 
 were raised in the house of Dr. Volkmar?" 
 
 "Certainly; I lost my parents very early." 
 
 "Quite right ; my brother-in-law told me so. And 
 to what calling did your father belong?" 
 
 "He was a physician like my grandpapa," replied 
 Marietta, more amused than surprised at this ex- 
 amination, the object of which she did not guess. 
 "My mother was also the daughter of a physician 
 a whole medical family, is it not? Only I have 
 taken a different course." 
 
 "Alas, yes," said Frau von Eschenhagen with em- 
 phasis. 
 
 The young girl looked at her with surprise. Was 
 that a jest ? The mien of the lady was not at all 
 mirthful, though, as she continued : "You will ad- 
 mit, my child, that if one has the good fortune to 
 come from an honorable and respected family, one 
 ought to show oneself worthy of it. You ought to 
 have chosen your vocation accordingly." 
 
 "Mon Dieu! but I could not study medicine like 
 my father and grandfather," exclaimed Marietta, 
 breaking into an amused laugh. The affair gave 
 her endless fun, but the remark displeased her stern 
 judge, who replied with considerable sharpness: 
 
 "There are, God be thanked, plenty of proper 
 vocations for a young girl. You are a singer?" 
 
 "Yes, gracious lady, at the Court Theatre." 
 
 "I know it. Are you disposed to accept a dis- 
 missal ?" 
 
 The question was put so suddenly, in such a dom- 
 ineering tone, that Marietta involuntarily retreated.
 
 150 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 She was still of the opinion that the lord of Burgs- 
 dorf, with his obstinate silence and stormy leave- 
 taking, was not quite sane, and now she was struck 
 by the thought that it might be a family failing 
 which he had inherited from his mother, for it was 
 very apparent that everything was not quite right 
 with her. 
 
 "A dismissal?" she repeated. "But why?" 
 
 "For the sake of morality. I am willing to offer 
 you a helping hand. Turn aside from this path of 
 frivolity and I pledge myself to find a place as com- 
 panion for you." 
 
 Now at last the young singer comprehended the 
 object of the conversation. Half angrily and half 
 scornfully she tossed back the little, curly head. 
 
 "I must thank you for it, but I love my work and 
 cannot think of exchanging it for a dependent posi- 
 tion. I am not fit, anyway, for an upper maid." 
 
 "I have expected this answer," said Frau von 
 Eschenhagen with a grim nod of the head," but I 
 consider it my duty to once more appeal to your 
 conscience. You are still very young and are there- 
 fore not responsible to a great extent for it; the 
 heaviest reproach falls on Doctor Volkmar, who al- 
 lowed the daughter of his son to accept such a call- 
 ing." 
 
 "Gracious lady, I must beg you to leave my grand- 
 father entirely out of the question," cried Marietta 
 indignantly. "You are Toni's future mother-in- 
 law otherwise I should not have stood this exam- 
 ination but I will not suffer an insult to my grand- 
 father from anybody on the earth." 
 
 In their excitement the two ladies had not no- 
 ticed that the door leading to the ante-room had 
 opened quietly, and that Willibald had appeared.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 151 
 
 He was much surprised when he saw his mother, 
 and hastily thrust in his pocket something 1 that he 
 carried carefully wrapped in paper, but he remained 
 standing in the door. 
 
 "I do not intend to argue with you," said Frau 
 von Eschenhagen in lofty tones, "but since I am 
 Toni's future mother-in-law, I have the right to 
 warn her of a friendship which does not seem proper 
 to me. Pray do not misunderstand me. I am not 
 haughty. The granddaughter of Dr. Volkmar 
 would be quite welcome to a continuance of friend- 
 ship, but a lady from a theatre probably has all of 
 her connections in theatrical circles, and here at 
 Furstenstein I hope you understand me?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, I understand you, gracious lady," cried 
 Marietta, whose face was suddenly suffused by a 
 deep blush. "You do not need to say anything 
 more. I ask but for one more word. Is Herr von 
 Schonan is Antonie of the same opinion as your- 
 self?" 
 
 "Chiefly so as to the matter of it, but, of course, 
 
 they do not wish with explanations to " A 
 
 very graphic shrug finished the sentence. 
 
 The otherwise just and truth-loving woman did 
 not even feel that she was plainly telling an untruth. 
 So taken up with her idea was she that she was 
 firmly convinced that the Chief Forester kept up the 
 intercourse only through a spirit of spite, and An- 
 tonie through her good nature, although it must be 
 uncomfortable to them, and she was firmly decided 
 to bring this thing to an end.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 BUT something unexpected happened now. Willi- 
 bald, who still stood upon the threshold, advanced 
 into the room and exclaimed, half entreatingly, half 
 reproachfully: "But, mamma!" 
 
 "Is it you, Willy ? What do you want here ?" de- 
 manded Frau von Eschenhagen, noticing him for the 
 first time, and to whom the interruption was very 
 unwelcome. 
 
 Willibald saw very well that his mother was very 
 ungraciously inclined, and was accustomed always 
 to retreat when he found her in that mood, but to- 
 day, with unusual courage, he remained. He drew 
 nearer and repeated, "But, mamma, I beg of you 
 Toni has never thought of Fraulein Volkmar's " 
 
 "How dare you ! do you wish to accuse me of an 
 untruth ?" the angered mother flamed. "What is it 
 to you that I speak with Fraulein Volkmar ? Your 
 fiancee is not here you see that therefore leave 
 us!" 
 
 The young lord grew darkly red at this tone, to 
 which he was accustomed ; he seemed to feel shame 
 at the treatment because of the young girl, and 
 looked as if he would offer some resistance, but at 
 a threatening, "Well, did you not hear?" the old 
 habit conquered. He turned hesitatingly and actu- 
 ally left the room, but the door remained slightly 
 ajar. 
 
 Marietta looked after him with scornfully curled 
 lips, then turned to her opponent. 
 
 152
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 153 
 
 "You may rest assured, gracious lady, that I have 
 come to Furstenstein for the last time. As the 
 Chief Forester received me with his usual cordiality, 
 and Antonie with the old affection, I did not com- 
 prehend that I now bear a stain in their eyes. I cer- 
 tainly would not have made myself troublesome 
 otherwise. It shall not happen again no, never!" 
 
 Her voice faltered ; with effort she suppressed the 
 tears, but they trembled bitterly and plaintively 
 around the little mouth, and Frau von Eschenhagen 
 felt that she had gone too far in her management of 
 the case. 
 
 "I did not wish to offend you," she said sooth- 
 ingly. "I only intended to make clear to you " 
 
 "You did not wish to offend me and yet tell me 
 such things," interrupted the young girl in an out- 
 burst of anger. "You treat me like an outcast, who 
 should not dare to approach decent circles, because 
 I earn my living, and give pleasure to mankind with 
 a gift which God has given me. You abuse my 
 good, dear old grandfather, who has made such 
 painful sacrifices for my education, who has let me 
 go into the world with such a heavy heart. Bitter 
 tears stood in his eyes when he drew me once more 
 into his arms at parting and said: 'Remain good, 
 my Marietta one can be good in every position. 
 I can leave you nothing. If I should close my eyes 
 in death to-day or to-morrow you would have to 
 struggle for yourself.' And I have remained good, 
 and I will remain good, even if it is not made easy 
 for me as it is for Toni, who is the daughter of a 
 rich father, and only leaves her paternal home to go 
 to the home of her husband. But I do not envy her 
 the good fortune of calling you mother." 
 
 "Fraulein Volkmar, you forget yourself," cried
 
 154 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 
 
 Regine, highly offended, rising to her fullest height ; 
 but Marietta was not intimidated, she only grew 
 more excited. 
 
 ''Oh, no; it is not I who forget myself. You are 
 the one you who insult me without cause, and I 
 know that the Chief Forester and Antonie are un- 
 der your influence if they turn from me. Never- 
 theless, I do not want any kindness nor friendship 
 which cannot stand more firmly, and I am done with 
 a friend who gives me up at the request of her 
 mother-in-law done with her once for all. Tell 
 her so, Frau von Eschenhagen. 
 
 She turned and left the room with a stormy ges- 
 ture, but in the ante-room the carefully preserved 
 composure gave way; pain overcame anger, and the 
 bravely suppressed tears burst forth hotly. The 
 young girl leaned her head against the wall in pas- 
 sionate, bitter sobbing over the insult. 
 
 Hearing her name called in a low, timid voice, she 
 looked up and saw Willibald von Eschenhagen 
 standing before her, holding out the paper which 
 he had dropped so hastily into his pocket. It was 
 folded back now, and disclosed a rose branch, bear- 
 ing a wonderfully beautiful and fragrant blossom 
 with two half-open buds. 
 
 "Fraulein Volkmar," he repeated, stammering, 
 "you wished a rose please accept " 
 
 Mute apology for his mother's rudeness could be 
 plainly seen in his eyes and his whole bearing. 
 Marietta suppressed her sobs, but the tears still glis- 
 tened in the dark eyes, which looked at him with an 
 inexpressibly contemptuous expression. 
 
 "No, I thank you, Herr von Eschenhagen," she 
 replied sharply. "You have probably heard what 
 has been said in there and have also probably re-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 155 
 
 ceived a command to shun me. Why do you not 
 obey?" 
 
 "My mother has done you wrong," Willibald said 
 half aloud, "and she also spoke without the knowl- 
 edge of the others. Toni does not know anything 
 about it, believe me " 
 
 "So you knew that and did not offer a word of 
 contradiction!" the girl interrupted, scarlet with 
 anger. "You listened to your mother insulting and 
 offending a defenseless girl and did not have chiv- 
 alry enough to oppose it ! Oh, yes, you tried it, but 
 were scolded and sent off like a schoolboy and 
 bore it meekly !" 
 
 Willibald stood there as if thunderstruck. He 
 had, indeed, felt the injustice of his mother deeply, 
 and wished to make it good to the best of his ability, 
 and now he was treated like this! He stared at 
 Marietta in deep perplexity, while she only grew 
 angrier at his silence. 
 
 "And now you come and bring me flowers," she 
 continued, with increasing passion, "secretly be- 
 hind your mother's back, and think that I will ac- 
 cept such an apology ! You would better learn first 
 how a man deports himself when he is witness to 
 such injustice. But now now I will show you 
 what I think of your present and of you!" 
 
 She tore the paper with its contents out of his 
 hand, threw it on the ground, and in the next second 
 her little foot stamped upon the fragrant blossoms. 
 
 "My, Fraulein " Willibald wavered between 
 
 shame and indignation, but a stern glance from the 
 hitherto saucy eyes silenced him, and the poor roses 
 were finished by a push from the small foot. 
 
 "So now we are at the end. If Toni really 
 knows nothing of this affair I shall be sorry, but in
 
 156 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 spite of it I must remain away in the future, for I 
 will not expose myself to fresh insults. May she 
 be happy. I could not be in her place. I am a poor 
 girl, but I would not accept a man who is still afraid 
 of his mother's switch no, not if he were ten times 
 lord of Burgsdorf !" 
 
 With which she disappeared, and left the poor 
 lord standing alone. 
 
 "Willy, what does this mean?" demanded the 
 voice of Frau von Eschenhagen, who appeared in 
 the door. As no reply came, she approached her 
 son with threatening mien. 
 
 "It was certainly a strange scene which I had to 
 look upon. Will you be so good as to explain what 
 it really meant? That little thing actually glared 
 with anger and said the most impertinent things to 
 your face, and you stood there like a sheep, without 
 defending yourself." 
 
 "Because she was right," murmured Willibald, 
 still looking at the roses. 
 
 "She was what?" demanded the mother, who 
 could not believe that she had heard aright. 
 
 The young lord raised his head and looked at her. 
 He had a peculiar expression on his face. 
 
 "She was right, I say, mamma. It is true, you 
 have treated me like a schoolboy. I ought not to 
 have submitted to it." 
 
 "Boy, I believe you are not in your senses," 
 said Frau Regine, but Willibald started in irri- 
 tation : 
 
 "I am no boy. I am lord of Burgsdorf and 
 twenty-seven years old. You forget that always, 
 mamma, and I have forgotten it always but now I 
 recall it." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen looked with boundless as-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 157 
 
 tonishment at her hitherto obedient son, who was 
 now suddenly making resistance. 
 
 "I actually believe you would like to be rebellious, 
 my boy. Do not try; you know I will not permit 
 it. What possesses you suddenly to be so arbitrary ? 
 While I try to end a highly improper intercourse 
 and put aside this Marietta, you go and, behind my 
 back, actually offer an apology for it even offer 
 her the roses which you had intended for your be- 
 trothed. Although I do not know how you came to 
 do it, it is the first time in your life but Toni will 
 not thank you for it. It served you right that the 
 little witch crushed them. You will leave such fool- 
 ishness alone in the future." 
 
 She scolded him in the usual tone without taking 
 any notice of his rebellion, but Willibald took it 
 wrongly this time. He who had but ten minutes be- 
 fore hidden the flowers in his pocket with fear now 
 had a touch of heroism. Instead of leaving his 
 mother in her belief and hushing the dangerous 
 storm, he positively challenged it. 
 
 "The roses were not destined for Toni at all, but 
 for Fraulein Volkmar," he explained defiantly. 
 
 "For " the word choked the terror-stricken 
 
 woman. 
 
 "For Marietta Volkmar ! She wanted to wear a 
 rose in her hair to-night, and since there were none 
 to be had in Waldhofen, I went to the castle gar- 
 dener and got those flowers. Now you know it all, 
 mamma." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen stood there like a pillar of 
 salt. She had turned ashy pale, for suddenly a 
 light had dawned upon her, but it showed her some- 
 thing so awful that she lost both speech and motion 
 for a while.
 
 158 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 But her old fire returned. She grasped her son's 
 arm as if she meant to have him in any case and 
 said curtly : 
 
 "Willy we leave to-morrow." 
 
 "Leave!" he repeated. "For where?" 
 
 "Home. We depart to-morrow morning at 8 
 o'clock, so that we can catch the fast train and arrive 
 at Burgsdorf the day after to-morrow. Go imme- 
 diately to your room and pack." 
 
 But the commanding tone made no impression 
 whatever on Willy this time. 
 
 "I shall not pack," he declared sullenly. 
 
 "You shall pack. I command you." 
 
 "No," defied the young lord. "If you want to 
 leave so badly, mamma, you can leave I remain 
 here." 
 
 This was unheard of, but it dispelled the last 
 doubt and the energetic woman, who still held her 
 son in her grasp, now shook him fiercely. 
 
 "Boy, wake up ! Come to your senses ! I believe 
 you do not know what is the matter with you. I 
 will tell you then. You are in love in love with 
 this Marietta Volkmar." 
 
 She threw the last words at him with annihilating 
 emphasis, but Willibald was not in the least annihi- 
 lated. He stood quite still from surprise for a mo- 
 ment. He had not thought of that, but now it be- 
 gan to dawn upon him. 
 
 "Oh," he said with a deep sigh, and something 
 like a smile flitted over his features. 
 
 " 'Oh !' is that your whole answer ?" burst forth 
 the enraged mother, who had hoped for a denial. 
 "You do not even deny it ? And I have to live to see 
 that in my own son whom I have raised who has 
 never been allowed to leave my side ! While I put
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 159 
 
 you there as a guard during those previous visits to 
 your fiancee she bewitches you that is plain and 
 even plays the virtuous, deeply offended one before 
 you this- " 
 
 "Mamma, stop; I cannot allow it," interrupted 
 Willibald, irritated beyond silence. 
 
 "You cannot allow it ? What does it mean " 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen suddenly paused and looked 
 toward the door, listening. "Toni is returning, 
 there your betrothed, to whom you have pledged 
 your word, who wears your ring. How will you ac- 
 count to her?" 
 
 She had finally struck the right chord. The 
 young lord started at this thought and bowed his 
 head mutely when Antonie entered, quite uncon- 
 cerned. 
 
 "You have returned already, Willy?" she asked. 
 "I thought but what is it? Has anything hap- 
 pened?" 
 
 "Yes," answered Frau Regine, grasping the reins, 
 as usual, decisively. "We have just received a com- 
 munication from Burgsdorf which forces us to de- 
 part to-morrow morning. You need not be fright- 
 ened, my child, it is nothing dangerous only a fool- 
 ishness" she laid sharp emphasis on the word 
 "a foolishness which has been committed, but which 
 will be removed just as speedily by quick interfer- 
 ence. I will tell you all about it later, but for the 
 present nothing can be done but by our departure." 
 
 Curiosity was not one of Antonie's faults, and 
 even this quite unexpected news was not able to 
 ruffle her composure. The statement that nothing 
 serious was concerned satisfied her entirely. 
 
 "Must Willy leave also ?" she asked without par- 
 ticular enthusiasm. "Cannot he at least remain?"
 
 160 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Answer your fiancee yourself, Willy," said Frau 
 von Eschenhagen, fixing her sharp, gray eyes upon 
 her son. "You know best what the circumstances 
 are. Can you really consent to stay here?" 
 
 A short pause. Willibald's glance met his 
 mother's; then he turned away and said in a sup- 
 pressed voice, "No, Toni, I must go home nothing 
 else is possible." 
 
 Toni accepted the decision, which would have 
 pained another girl deeply, with moderate regret, 
 and began to inquire directly where the travelers 
 would dine to-morrow, since the fast train had no 
 stoppage anywhere. This seemed to grieve her as 
 much as the separation, but she finally concluded that 
 it would be best for them to take a lunch along to 
 eat on the train. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen felt triumphant when she 
 went to her brother-in-law to notify him of their de- 
 parture, for which she had already found a pretext. 
 
 Many a thing could happen on the large estates to 
 afford an explanation. \ 
 
 Naturally, the Chief Forester must not learn the 
 truth any more than his daughter, although he had 
 caused the whole trouble in his blindness. 
 
 Regine did not doubt in the least that as soon as 
 she removed her Willy from the fascinating circle 
 of this "witch" he would return to reason. Had he 
 not shown it just now? 
 
 She would not see that honor toward his be- 
 trothed alone had conquered, and that it had been a 
 terrible mistake to expose his feelings to another. 
 
 "Wait, my boy," she muttered grimly. "I will 
 teach you to commence such things, and to rebel 
 against your mother. When once I have you at 
 Burg-sdorf, may God have mercy on you!"
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ON the appointed day the Duke, with the Duchess 
 and a numerous suite, arrived at Furstenstein, and 
 the life full of splendor which had been led in for- 
 mer times began again in the wide, beautiful hunt- 
 ing grounds of the Wald. 
 
 The present sovereign was no ardent huntsman, 
 and the hunting lodge of his ancestors had stood de- 
 serted for years, or was occupied only at long inter- 
 vals for a brief visit. Now, when a prolonged stay 
 was anticipated, the spacious castle scarce afforded 
 room enough for the guests; a part of them were 
 quartered in neighboring Waldhofen, which made 
 the little town, as well as the entire vicinity, very 
 festive in joyful excitement. 
 
 The owners of the neighboring castles and villas, 
 who, like Prince Adelsberg, belonged to the best 
 families of the land, were induced by the arrival of 
 the Court to take up their fall quarters there, too. 
 Nearly everybody had brought numerous guests, and 
 so an unusual life and bustle developed in the silent 
 Wald, the centre of which activity being, of course, 
 Furstenstein. 
 
 The castle shone to-night in fullest splendor; 
 every window of the upper floor was lighted, and in 
 the court torches threw their red light upon the walls 
 and towers gray with age. 
 
 It was the occasion of the first large fete since the 
 arrival of the princely family, to which were asked
 
 162 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 all the nobility of the neighborhood, the higher offi- 
 cials of the district, and, in short, everybody who 
 had any claim upon their sovereign's notice. 
 
 The castle, which was built in a grand style, con- 
 tained a number of gorgeous rooms of state, which, 
 with their old-fashioned but costly furnishings, and 
 the brilliant company moving through them, af- 
 forded a decidedly splendid spectacle. 
 
 The young wife of the Prussian Ambassador was 
 a new star among the ladies present. Mourning 
 for her father, who had died shortly after her mar- 
 riage, had kept her from all festivities, and she 
 entered to-day for the first time this brilliant circle, 
 where the position of her husband assured her 
 a prominent place, and where she was being treated 
 by the Duke and Duchess with noticeable dis- 
 tinction. 
 
 The rising of this new star was noticed by the 
 ladies, of course, with some displeasure. They 
 found Frau von Wallmoden very haughty in her 
 cool composure, and that she had very little occasion 
 for such bearing; for, of course, they all knew that 
 she was a born burgher, who did not properly be- 
 long in this circle, even if her father's wealth and 
 his prominent position with the industries of the 
 country gave her a certain distinction. Neverthe- 
 less, she moved upon the foreign soil with a strange 
 ease the husband must have schooled her well for 
 this first appearance. 
 
 The gentlemen were of a different opinion. They 
 found that His Excellency the Ambassador had 
 proved his talent most strikingly in his own cause. 
 He who already stood upon the border of old age 
 had understood how to gain, with the hand of this 
 young, beautiful wife, a fortune extensive enough
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 163 
 
 in itself, but magnified by rumor into the immeas- 
 urable. For this he was envied on all sides. 
 
 Wallmoden did not seem at all surprised at the 
 impression which the beauty and stateliness of his 
 wife too apparently caused, but accepted it as some- 
 thing natural. He had expected nothing else; the 
 contrary would have surprised him in the highest 
 degree. 
 
 At present he was standing in a window recess 
 with his brother-in-law, the Chief Forester, and 
 after exchanging a few indifferent remarks about 
 the fete and the guests, he asked casually: "What 
 sort of person is that whom Prince Adelsberg has 
 introduced? Do you know him?" 
 
 "You mean the young Roumanian?" said Scho- 
 nan. "No ; I see him to-day for the first time, but 
 have heard of him before. He is the bosom friend 
 of the Prince, whom he accompanied upon his East- 
 ern travels, and a young man handsome as a picture 
 his eyes positively sparkle with fire/' 
 
 "He impresses me as an adventurer," remarked 
 Wallmoden coldly. "How does he happen to have 
 an invitation? Has he been presented to the 
 Duke?" 
 
 "Yes, at Rodeck, if I am not mistaken ; the Duke 
 was there recently. Prince Adelsberg loves to throw 
 etiquette aside as much as possible. But this invita- 
 tion to-day signifies no acceptance, since everybody 
 has been asked." 
 
 The Ambassador shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Nevertheless, one should hesitate about bringing 
 such elements near one before they come well recom- 
 mended." 
 
 "Everything must be certified to with letter and 
 seal with you diplomats," laughed the Chief. "This
 
 1G-A THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Rojanow has certainly something aristocratic about 
 him, and one is never so strict, anyway, with a for- 
 eigner. I can well understand that our sovereigns 
 like to hear and see something different from the 
 usual court circle, which presents the same old tire- 
 some face from year to year. The Duke appears 
 to be quite captivated already with the Roumanian." 
 
 "Yes, it seems so," muttered Wallmoden, upon 
 whose brow a cloud gathered. 
 
 "But why should this concern us?" remarked 
 Schonan. "I will go now and look for Toni, who 
 has to appear now everywhere without her be- 
 trothed. That was another notion of Regine's. 
 She departed from us with her son like a skyrocket. 
 Your sister cannot be detained as soon as the beloved 
 Burgsdorf is brought into question. If she had 
 only left Willy with us! Everybody wonders that 
 my future son-in-law should take his departure be- 
 fore the fete. I cannot understand it at all." 
 
 "A stroke of good fortune that they are gone," 
 thought Wallmoden, as his brother-in-law left him. 
 "If Willibald had met his former friend and play- 
 mate here unexpectedly another scene similar to 
 that upon the Hochberg might have occurred. But 
 who would have thought that Hartmut would carry 
 his defiance so far as to appear in a circle where he 
 was sure to meet the Ambassador?" 
 
 Prince Adelsberg, who held in this circle one of 
 the highest positions through his name and relation- 
 ship to the reigning house, had, indeed, succeeded 
 with the presentation of his friend, and the Duke 
 seemed to have had a very favorable opinion of him 
 from the first meeting at Rodeck, for he now him- 
 self presented this young stranger to the Duchess. 
 
 This Rojanow, with the captivating charm of his
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 165 
 
 personality and the foreign air which surrounded 
 him, was. indeed, an extraordinary person, who had 
 only to appear to cause general observation. 
 
 To-day he displayed lavishly all the brilliant at- 
 tributes which were at his command. His conver- 
 sation sparkled with life and spirit, his fiery tem- 
 perament, which betrayed itself involuntarily, gave 
 to everything he said and did a peculiar charm, 
 while he proved himself in every respect master of 
 society forms and customs. In short, the prophecy 
 of the Prince was fulfilled. 
 
 Hartmut knew how to conquer everybody here by 
 storm, and had hardly put his foot upon the soil 
 when he reigned there by the power of his magnet- 
 ism. 
 
 This could not pass unnoticed by the Ambassador, 
 even if he did not come into direct contact with the 
 Roumanian. It was not difficult to evade each other 
 in the throng of guests, and a meeting was not de- 
 sired on either side. 
 
 Wallmoden walked through a side room, where 
 the Duke's sister, the Princess Sophie, had gathered 
 a large circle around her. 
 
 The Princess, who had married the younger son 
 of a princely house, had very early become a widow, 
 and had lived since then at the court of her brother, 
 where she was not in the least popular. While the 
 Duchess charmed everybody who came into her pres- 
 ence by her grace and kindness, the older sister was 
 considered haughty and intriguante. Everybody 
 stood in fear of the lady's sharp tongue, which had a 
 habit of saying something disagreeable to each and 
 every one. 
 
 Herr von Wallmoden did not escape this fate. 
 He was graciously beckoned to and received flat-
 
 166 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 
 
 teries on the beauty of his wife, which was not to be 
 denied. 
 
 "I offer you my congratulations, Your Excellency. 
 I was quite surprised when your young wife was 
 presented to me, for I had naturally expected to see 
 an elderly lady." 
 
 The "naturally" sounded very malicious, for Prin- 
 cess Sophie had known for months that the wife of 
 the Prussian Ambassador was only nineteen years 
 old, but he smiled in the most amiable way as he 
 replied: "Your Highness is very gracious. I can 
 only be grateful that my wife has had the good for- 
 tune to make a favorable impression upon you." 
 
 "Oh, you cannot doubt it. The Duke and 
 Duchess are quite of my opinion. Frau von Wall- 
 moden is really a beauty Prince Adelsberg seems 
 to think so, too. Perhaps you have not observed as 
 yet how very much he admires your wife?" 
 
 "Yes, Your Highness, I have observed it." 
 
 "Really? And what do you say to it?" 
 
 "I?" inquired Wallmoden with perfect tranquil- 
 lity. "It rests solely with my wife as to whether she 
 will permit the admiration of the Prince. If she 
 
 finds pleasure in it I do not give her any rules 
 
 in this respect." 
 
 "An enviable confidence which our young gentle- 
 men ought to pattern after," said the Princess, vexed 
 that the arrow had missed its aim. "It is surely 
 very agreeable to a young wife if the husband is not 
 jealous. Ah, there is Frau von Wallmoden herself, 
 with her cavalier, of course, at her side. My dear 
 Baroness, we were just speaking of you."
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 ADELAIDE VON WALLMODEN, who had just en- 
 tered in company with Prince Adelsberg, bowed her 
 recognition of the Princess' notice. 
 
 She made, indeed, a brilliant picture to-night, for 
 the splendid court toilet enhanced her beauty trium- 
 phantly. The costly brocade of the white dress, 
 which fell to her feet in heavy folds, suited the slen- 
 der figure admirably. The pearls encircling her 
 throat and the diamonds which sparkled in her 
 blond hair were perhaps the most costly of any 
 worn to-night ; but more sharply than ever appeared 
 the cold and serious expression of the young wife. 
 She did not in the least resemble others of her age 
 who were also married, but who claimed the right of 
 youth to dress in dainty laces and flowers. She 
 possessed nothing of their brightness the urbane 
 amiability which was so fully brought to view in 
 them. The severe, serious expression which was an 
 inheritance from her father, and so indelibly stamped 
 in her nature, betrayed itself in her character. 
 
 Egon kissed his exalted aunt's hand, and had been 
 honored with a few gracious words, but from the 
 first, the amiable attention of Her Highness was 
 quite taken up by the young Baroness, who was 
 immediately drawn into conversation. 
 
 "I was just expressing my pleasure to His Ex- 
 cellency that you find yourself so quickly at home 
 in our court circle, dear Baroness. You enter these 
 
 167
 
 168 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 circles to-day for the first time, if I understand 
 aright, and have lived hitherto in entirely different 
 surroundings. "You were born a " 
 
 "Stahlberg, Your Highness," was the calm re- 
 joinder. 
 
 "Quite right. I remember the name, which has 
 been spoken several times in my presence. It is 
 honorably known in your native town, I presume." 
 
 "Most gracious aunt, you must permit me to in- 
 form you better," joined in Prince Adelsberg, who 
 seldom permitted an opportunity of vexing his most 
 gracious aunt to pass by. "The factories of Stahl- 
 berg are world-renowned. They are as well known 
 across the ocean as they are here. I had an oppor- 
 tunity to learn all about them when I was in North- 
 ern Germany several years ago, and I can assure you 
 that those works those iron foundries and fac- 
 tories, with their colonies of officers and their army 
 of workmen, can well vie with many a small princi- 
 pality, whose sovereign, though, is not such an abso- 
 lute ruler as was the father of Her Excellency." 
 
 The Princess cast anything but a friendly glance 
 at her nephew ; his interference was not desired. 
 
 "Indeed! I had no idea of such magnificence," 
 she said in her most caustic tone. "We may, per- 
 haps, then greet His Excellency as such a ruler?" 
 
 "Only as administrator, Your Highness," re- 
 joined the Ambassador. "I am only the executor of 
 my father-in-law's will, and guardian of my young 
 brother-in-law, to whom the works will go when he 
 attains his majority." 
 
 "Ah, so? The son will probably know how to 
 keep the inheritance. It is really astonishing what 
 the energy of a single man can do in these days, and 
 it is so much more praiseworthy if he, like the father
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 169 
 
 of our dear Baroness, has come from humble circles. 
 At least I believe I have heard so, or am I mis- 
 taken?" 
 
 Princess Sophie knew very well that these re- 
 marks about the origin of his father-in-law were un- 
 pleasant to the Ambassador, a man of old Prussian 
 nobility, and it caused her great satisfaction that 
 the surrounding circle did not lose a word of the con- 
 versation, which was intended principally to humble 
 the lady of burgher descent. 
 
 But she was mistaken if she counted upon the 
 Baroness falling into embarrassment or evasion. 
 Instead of that she drew herself up in all her pride. 
 
 "Your Highness is quite correctly informed. My 
 father came to the Capital a poor boy without 
 means. He had to struggle hard, and worked for 
 years as a humble laborer, before he laid the founda- 
 tion to his later enterprises." 
 
 "How proudly Frau von Wallmoden says that!" 
 cried the Princess, smiling. "Oh, I love this filial 
 attachment above everything. So Herr Stahlberg 
 or perhaps von Stahlberg? the large manufac- 
 turers often bear a title " 
 
 "My father did not bear it, Your Highness," re- 
 plied Adelaide, meeting the glance of the royal lady 
 calmly and openly. "A title had indeed been offered 
 him, but he refused it." 
 
 The Ambassador pressed his thin lips together. 
 He could but find the remark of his wife very un- 
 diplomatic. The features of the Princess assumed 
 an angry expression, and she returned with biting 
 sarcasm : "Well, then, it is a good thing that this 
 aversion has not descended to the daughter. His 
 Excellency will know how to value it. I beg your 
 escort, Egon. I should like to look for my brother.'*
 
 170 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 She bowed to the circle and glided away on the 
 arm of the Prince, whose bearing plainly said : 
 
 ''Now comes my turn." 
 
 He was not mistaken. Her Highness had no 
 thought of finding the Duke, but took a seat in the 
 adjoining room with her young relative, whom she 
 wished to have to herself. 
 
 At first her anger burst forth at the unbearably 
 haughty Frau von Wallmoden, who boasted of her 
 father's burgher pride, while she had married a 
 Baron from vanity, for she could not possibly feel 
 any affection for a man old enough to be her father. 
 Egon was silent as to that, for he had already put 
 the same question to himself, How had this un- 
 equal match come to take place? without finding an 
 answer to it ; but his silence was now an offence. 
 
 "Well, Egon, have you nothing to say? But you 
 seem to have sworn allegiance to this lady ; you have 
 been constantly at her side." 
 
 "I do homage to beauty wherever I meet it; you 
 know that, most gracious aunt," expostulated the 
 Prince. But alas! he only called forth another 
 storm. 
 
 "Yes, alas! I know that. In this respect you 
 are of incomprehensible heedlessness. Perhaps you 
 do not remember all my admonishings and warnings 
 before your departure?" 
 
 "Ah, only too well," sighed Egon, who even now 
 felt quite stifled with the remembrance of the end- 
 less lecture which he had had to endure at that time. 
 
 "Really? But you have not returned any more 
 
 sensible or sedate. I have heard things Egon, 
 
 there is only one salvation for you you must 
 marry." 
 
 "For heaven's sake, anything but that!" Egon
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 171 
 
 started up so terrified that Princess Sophie opened 
 her fan indignantly. 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" she asked in cut- 
 ting tones. 
 
 "Oh, only my un worthiness to enter into that 
 state. Your Highness yourself have often assured 
 me that I was particularly fitted to make a wife 
 unhappy'' 
 
 "If the wife does not succeed in bettering you, of 
 course. I do not despair yet of that. But this is 
 not the place to speak of such things. The Duchess 
 is planning a visit to Rodeck, and I intend to ac- 
 company her." 
 
 "What a charming idea!" exclaimed Egon, who 
 was almost as much terrified by the proposed visit 
 as by the thought of marriage. "I am really proud 
 that Rodeck, which is usually such a small, tiresome 
 forest nook, can just now furnish you with some 
 curiosities. I brought many things from my travels, 
 among them a lion, two young tigers, several 
 snakes " 
 
 "But not live ones?" interrupted the horrified lady. 
 
 "Of course, Your Highness." 
 
 "But, mon Dieu! one is not sure of one's life 
 there." 
 
 "Oh, it is not so dangerous, although some of the 
 beasts have broken away from us already the 
 people are so careless at feeding time; but they have 
 always been secured again, and have not done any 
 harm as yet." 
 
 "As yet? That is a charming prospect, indeed," 
 said the Princess angrily. "You put the whole 
 neighborhood in danger. The Duke ought to pro- 
 hibit you such dangerous playthings." 
 
 "I hope not 4 for I am just now seriously occupied
 
 173 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 in attempting to tame some of them. But besides 
 these I can show you many domestic things that 
 are worth looking at. There are several girls among 
 my servants from this vicinity who look charming 
 in their peasant costumes." 
 
 Egon shuddered at the thought of his female ser- 
 vants "with wagging heads," whom he still em- 
 ployed under Stadinger's careful eye, but he had 
 speculated correctly. His gracious aunt was indig- 
 nant and measured him with an annihilating glance. 
 
 "So? You have such as that at Rodeck!" 
 
 "Certainly. There is Lena in particular, the 
 granddaughter of my steward, a charming little 
 thing, and when you give me the honor of your visit, 
 most gracious aunt " 
 
 "I shall leave it alone," interrupted the incensed 
 lady, using her fan violently. "It must be a pecu- 
 liar household which you carry on at Rodeck with 
 the young foreigner whom you have, perhaps, also 
 brought as a curiosity from your travels. He has 
 the face of a perfect brigand." 
 
 "My friend Rojanow ! He has been pining a long 
 time to be presented to Your Highness. You per- 
 mit it, I hope?" 
 
 Without waiting for an answer he hastened away 
 and took possession of Hartmut. 
 
 "Now it is your turn," he whispered, dragging 
 him along unceremoniously. "I have been the vic- 
 tim long enough, and my most precious aunt has to 
 have some one whom she can roast slowly. She in- 
 sists upon marrying me off-hand, and you have the 
 face of a perfect brigand, but, thank God ! she does 
 not come to Rodeck. I have taken care of that !" 
 
 In the next moment he stood before Her High- 
 ness, introducing his friend with his blandest smile.
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 HERR VON WALLMODEN had lingered in the circle 
 a few moments after the departure of the Princess ; 
 then, with his wife on his arm, he walked slowly 
 through the suite of rooms, greeting an acquaintance 
 here, conversing briefly there, until they finally 
 reached the last of the reception rooms, which was 
 rather deserted. 
 
 The tower room, opening directly from this, was 
 not generally used in entertainments, but for to- 
 night it had been transformed into a small, cosy 
 apartment with curtains and carpets and a pictur- 
 esque group of plants, and, with its dim lights, 
 offered a pleasing contrast to the blinding flood of 
 light and the commotion of the other rooms. 
 
 It was quite vacant now, which the Ambassador 
 seemed to have counted upon when he entered with 
 his wife and offered her a seat upon a divan. 
 
 "I must draw your attention to the fact, Adelaide, 
 that you did an unwise thing just now," he began 
 in a low tone. "Your remark to the Princess " 
 
 "Was self-defense," finished the young wife. 
 "You must have felt, as well as I did, what the ob- 
 ject of the conversation was." 
 
 "Nevertheless, at your first appearance you have 
 made for yourself an antagonist whose enmity can 
 materially render your own and my position more 
 difficult." 
 
 "Yours?" Adelaide looked at him in surprise. 
 
 Wl
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Are you, the Ambassador of a great power, to ask 
 the grace of a malicious woman who happens to be 
 related to a ducal family?" 
 
 "My child, you do not understand," returned 
 Wallmoden coldly. "An intriguing woman can be 
 more dangerous than a political opponent, and Prin- 
 cess Sophie is well known in that line. Even the 
 Duchess is known to be in fear of her malicious 
 tongue." 
 
 "That is the Duchess' affair. I am not in fear 
 of it." 
 
 "My dear Adelaide," said the Ambassador, with a 
 superior smile, "that proud turn of your head is very 
 becoming to you, and I approve entirely of your 
 making yourself unapproachable with it in other 
 circles, but you will have to leave it off at Court, as 
 well as several other things. One does not give 
 royalty a lesson before so many observers, and you 
 did that when you spoke of the refusal of the title. 
 In any case, it was not necessary for you to lay so 
 much stress upon the descent of your father." 
 
 "Should I perhaps have denied it?" 
 
 "No, for it is a well-known fact." 
 
 "Of which I am as proud as was my father." 
 
 "But you are not Adelaide Stahlberg any longer, 
 but the Baroness Wallmoden." The voice of the 
 Ambassador had acquired a certain sharpness. "And 
 you will admit that it is very contradictory to boast 
 of your burgher pride when you have given your 
 hand to a man of the old nobility." 
 
 A slight bitterness quivered around the lips of the 
 young wife, and although the conversation had been 
 carried on in low tones, her voice sank even lower as 
 she returned : "Perhaps you have forgotten, Her- 
 Jjert, why I gave you my hand,"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 175 
 
 ''Have you had cause to regret it?" he asked in- 
 stead of replying. 
 
 "No," said Adelaide, drawing a deep breath. 
 
 "I should think you could be satisfied with the 
 position you have at my side. Besides, you remem- 
 ber that I did not compel you. I left you perfectly 
 free choice." 
 
 The wife was silent, but the bitter expression did 
 not leave her lips. 
 
 Wallmoden arose and offered his arm. 
 
 "You must permit me, my child, to come to your 
 assistance sometimes in your inexperience," he said 
 in his usual polite tone. "So far I have had every 
 reason to be satisfied with your tact and manner. 
 To-day is the first time I have had to give you a 
 hint. May I ask if you are ready to return?" 
 
 "I should like to remain here a few moments 
 longer," said Adelaide in a smothered voice. "It 
 is so insufferably hot in the salons." 
 
 "Just as you desire, but I beg that you will not 
 remain too long, as your absence would cause re- 
 mark." 
 
 He saw and felt that she was offended, but found 
 it expedient not to notice it. Baron Wallmoden, 
 in spite of all his politeness and attention, under- 
 stood that in the training of his wife such kinds of 
 sentiment must not be encouraged. He left the 
 room, and Adelaide remained alone. She leaned 
 her head upon her hand, and with unseeing eyes 
 stared at the group of plants near her, whispering 
 
 almost inaudibly: "Free choice O, my God!" 
 
 * * " * * * # 
 
 In the meantime Prince Adelsberg and his friend 
 were being most graciously dismissed. They bowed 
 low before the Princess, who arose and left the
 
 176 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 
 
 salon with an unusually mild expression on her 
 sharp features. 
 
 "Hartmut, I believe you can magnetize," said 
 Egon under his breath. "I have seen many exam- 
 ples of your irresistibility, but that my most gra- 
 cious aunt has a regular attack of affability in your 
 presence is something never heard of before. It 
 puts all your other victories into the shade." 
 
 "Well, the reception was cool enough," laughed 
 Hartmut. "Her Highness really seemed to take me 
 for a brigand at first." 
 
 "But in ten minutes you stood in the full sunshine 
 of her grace, and have been dismissed a prime fa- 
 vorite. Do tell me what you have in you that every- 
 body, without exception, bows to your charm. One 
 might well believe in the old fairy tale of the rat- 
 catcher." 
 
 Again the harsh, repulsive sarcasm which took for 
 a moment every beauty from his face, passed over 
 Hartmut's lips, giving him a satanic expression. 
 
 "I understand how to play the thing they like best 
 to hear. It has a different sound to every one, but 
 if one knows how to strike the right chord, none 
 can resist it." 
 
 "None?" repeated Egon, while his glance passed 
 searchingly through the room. 
 
 "Not one, I tell you." 
 
 "Yes, you are a pessimist in this respect. I at 
 least recognize some exceptions. If I only knew 
 where Frau von Wallmoden was. I cannot see her 
 anywhere." 
 
 "His Excellency is probably reading her a lecture 
 upon the undiplomatic remark of a short time 
 since." 
 
 "Did you also hear it?" asked Egon quickly.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 177 
 
 "Yes; I stood in the door." 
 
 "Well, I do not in the least begrudge our most 
 gracious one the lesson. Naturally she was beside 
 herself about it, but do you really believe that the 
 Ambassador Hush! there he is himself." 
 
 It was, indeed, the Ambassador before them, just 
 returning from the tower room. An encounter now 
 could not be avoided, and the young Prince, who had 
 no idea of the existing connection, hastened to in- 
 troduce his friend. 
 
 "Allow me, Your Excellency, to make good a 
 neglect which was forced upon me that day upon 
 the Hochberg by the disappearance of my friend. 
 I only found him after your departure. Herr Hart- 
 mut Rojanow, Baron von Wallmoden." 
 
 The eyes of the two men met. The sharp, pene- 
 trating eyes of the one met the expression of chal- 
 lenging defiance in the other, but Wallmoden would 
 not have been the finished diplomat he was if he were 
 not equal to the present moment. 
 
 His greeting was cool but polite, only he turned 
 to the Prince alone with his answer, regretting not 
 being able to chat with the gentlemen, since he was 
 called to the Duke. 
 
 The whole meeting had lasted but two minutes, 
 but it had taken place. 
 
 "His Excellency is more taciturn to-day than 
 usual," remarked Egon, walking on. "Whenever 
 I see this cold, diplomatic face before me I have a 
 chill, and feel a pressing desire to seek warmer 
 zones." 
 
 "Therefore we follow so persistently the track of 
 the beautiful, cold aurora," said Hartmut, teasingly. 
 "Whom do we really seek in this walk through the 
 rooms which you continue so untiringly?"
 
 178 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "The Chief Forester," said the Prince, vexed at 
 seeing himself betrayed. "I wish to make you ac- 
 quainted with him, but you are in one of your railing 
 moods to-day. Perhaps I may find Schonan over 
 yonder in the armory. I shall look there." 
 
 He took a speedy departure, and actually turned 
 his steps to the armory, where the ducal couple was 
 at present, and where he also believed Adelaide von 
 Wallmoden to be. But, unfortunately, at the en- 
 trance he again crossed the path of his most gra- 
 cious aunt, who took possession of him. She wished 
 for more particulars of the interesting young Rou- 
 manian who stood, indeed, in the sunlight of her 
 favor, and her impatient nephew had to answer all 
 her questions willingly or otherwise.
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 THE fete progressed ; the assembly glided to and 
 fro as Hartmut walked slowly and apparently pur- 
 poselessly through the long suite of reception rooms. 
 He, too, looked for some one, and was more success- 
 ful than Egon. A hasty glance into the tower room, 
 the entrance of which was partly concealed by heavy 
 portieres, showed him the hem of a white train 
 which floated over the floor, and the next moment 
 he had crossed the threshold. 
 
 Adelaide von Wallmoden was still sitting in the 
 same position, and slowly turned her head toward 
 the intruder. Suddenly she started, but only for 
 an instant, then with her habitual composure she re- 
 turned the deep bow of the young man who remained 
 standing at the door. 
 
 "I hope I have not disturbed Your Excellency," 
 he said. "I fear you came here for solitude into 
 which I have broken suddenly, but it happens quite 
 unintentionally." 
 
 ''I only took refuge here from the smothering heat 
 of the salons." 
 
 "The same cause brought me here, and since I 
 did not have the honor to-day to greet you, permit 
 me to do so now." 
 
 The words sounded very formal. Rojanow had 
 drawn nearer, but remained standing at a respec- 
 table distance. Nevertheless, the start at his en- 
 trance had not been passed by unobserved by him. 
 
 179
 
 180 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 A peculiar smile hovered around his lips as he di- 
 rected his eyes upon the young Baroness. 
 
 She had made a gesture as if to rise and leave the 
 room, but seemed to remember in time that so sud- 
 den a move would look like flight. She remained 
 seated and leaned over the plants. Absently she 
 picked one of the large crimson japonicas as she 
 replied to the question about her health, but that 
 line of severe will-power appeared again, sharply 
 and distinctly, just as in that moment when she 
 stood in the middle of the brook. That day she 
 had stepped without hesitation into ankle-deep water 
 rather than accept the help which was offered her; 
 but that had occurred in the forest loneliness. No 
 such obstacle had to be overcome here in the ducal 
 castle, filled with the pomp of a fete; but the man 
 with the dark, consuming glance was here, and he 
 did not remove his eyes from her face. 
 
 "Shall you remain at Rodeck any length of time ?" 
 asked Adelaide in the indifferent tone with which 
 remarks are exchanged in society. 
 
 "Probably a few weeks longer. Prince Adelsberg 
 will hardly leave his castle as long as the Duke is at 
 Furstenstein. I intend to accompany him to the 
 Residenz later on." 
 
 "And we shall then learn to know you as a 
 poet?" 
 
 "Me, Your Excellency?" 
 
 "I learned so from the Prince." 
 
 "Oh, that is only Egon's idea," said Hartmut, 
 lightly. "He has settled it in his mind that he must 
 see my Arivana upon the stage." 
 
 "Arivana! A strange title." 
 
 "It is an Oriental name for an Indian legend, 
 whose poetical charm had prepossessed me so
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 181 
 
 strangely that I could not resist the temptation to 
 form it into a drama." 
 
 "And the heroine of the drama is Arivana?" 
 
 "No; that is only the name of an ancient, sacred 
 spot, around which this legend clings. The name of 
 the heroine is Ada." 
 
 Rojanow uttered the name softly, hesitatingly; 
 but his eyes flamed up triumphantly, as he saw 
 again the same slight quiver he had seen at his en- 
 trance. Slowly he approached a few steps, con- 
 tinuing : "I heard the name for the first time upon 
 India's soil, and it had a sweet foreign sound for 
 me, which I retained for my heroine, and now I 
 learn here that the abbreviation of a German name 
 is just like it." 
 
 "Of the name Adelaide yes. I was always 
 called so at home ; but it is nothing peculiar that the 
 same sounds return in different languages." 
 
 The words sounded repellent, but the young wife 
 did not lift her eyes; she gazed fixedly upon the 
 flower with which her fingers toyed. 
 
 "Certainly not," assented Hartmut; "I only no- 
 ticed it. It was no surprise, since all legends are 
 repeated in all nations. They have a greater or less 
 difference in appearance, but that which lives in 
 them the passion, the happiness and joy of the peo- 
 ple that is the same everywhere." 
 
 Adelaide shrugged her shoulders. 
 
 "I cannot argue about that with a poet, but I do 
 believe that our German legends possess other fea- 
 tures than the Indian dreams of myths." 
 
 "Perhaps so, but if you look deeper you will find 
 these features familiar. This Arivana myth, at 
 least, has similar lines. The hero, a young priest 
 who has consecrated body and soul to his deity
 
 182 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the sacred, burning fire is overwhelmed by earthly 
 love, with all its fervor and passion, until his 
 priestly vow perishes in its intensity." 
 
 He stood quietly and respectfully before her, but 
 his voice had a strangely suppressed sound, as if, 
 hidden behind this narrative, there was another and 
 secret meaning. 
 
 Suddenly the Baroness raised her eyes and di- 
 rected them fully and seriously upon the face of the 
 speaker. "And the end?" 
 
 "The end is death, as in most mystic legends. The 
 breaking of the vow is discovered, and the guilty 
 ones are sacrificed to the offended deity; the priest 
 dies in the flames with the woman he loves." 
 
 A short pause followed. Adelaide arose with a 
 rapid movement. She apparently wished to break 
 off the conversation. 
 
 "You are right; this legend has something 
 familiar, if it were only the old doctrine of guilt and 
 atonement." 
 
 "Do you call that guilt, gracious lady?" Hart- 
 mut suddenly dropped the formal title. "Well, yes, 
 by man it is called guilt, and they too punish it with 
 death, without thinking that such punishment can 
 be ecstasy. To perish in the flames after having 
 tasted of the highest earthly happiness, and to em- 
 brace this happiness even in death that is a glori- 
 ous, divine death, worthy a long life of dull mo- 
 notony. The eternal, undying right of love glows 
 there like signs of flame in the sky, in spite of all 
 laws of mankind. Do you not think such an end 
 enviable ?" 
 
 A slight paleness covered the face of the Baro- 
 ness, but her voice was firm as she answered : 
 
 "No; enviable only is death for an exalted, holy
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 183 
 
 duty the sacrifice of a pure life. One can forgive 
 sin, but one does not admire it." 
 
 Hartmut bit his lips, and a threatening glance 
 rested on the white figure which stood so solemn 
 and unapproachable before him. Then he smiled. 
 
 "A hard judgment, which strikes my work also, 
 for I have put my whole power into the glorifica- 
 tion of this love and death. If the world judge like 
 you Ah, permit me, gracious lady." 
 
 He quickly approached the divan where she had 
 been sitting, where, with her fan, the japonica also 
 had been left. 
 
 "Thank you," said Adelaide, stretching out her 
 hand ; but he gave her only the fan. 
 
 "Your pardon. While I was composing my 
 Arivana on the veranda of a small house in India, 
 this flower bloomed and glowed from its dark green 
 foliage everywhere, and now it greets me here in the 
 cold North. May I keep this flower?" 
 
 Adelaide made a half reluctant gesture. 
 
 "No, why should you ?" 
 
 "Why should I? For a remembrance of the 
 severe opinion from the lips of a lady who bears the 
 lovely name of my mystic heroine. You see, gra- 
 cious lady, that the white japonica blooms here 
 also, delicate, snowy flower; but unconsciously you 
 broke the glowing red one, and poets are supersti- 
 tious. Leave me the flower as a token that my 
 work, in spite of all, may find favor in your eyes 
 after you learn to know it. You have no idea how 
 much it means to me." 
 
 "Herr Rojanow I " She was about to 
 
 utter a refusal, but he interrupted her, and con- 
 tinued in low, but passionate, tones : 
 
 "What is a single flower to you, broken carelessly,
 
 184 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 
 
 and which you will allow to fade as carelessly * 
 But to me leave me this token, gracious lady; I 
 I beg for it." 
 
 He stood close beside her. The charm which he, 
 as a boy, had unconsciously exerted when he mad? 
 people "defenseless" with his coaxing, he, as a man, 
 recognized as a power which never failed, and 
 which he knew how to use. His voice bore again 
 that soft, suppressed tone which charmed the ear 
 like music; and his eyes those dark, mysterious 
 eyes were fixed upon the girl before him with a 
 half gloomy, half beseeching expression. 
 
 The paleness of her face had deepened, but she 
 did not answer. 
 
 "I beg of you," he repeated, more lowly, more 
 beseechingly, as he pressed the glowing flower to his 
 lips ; but the very gesture broke the spell. Adelaide 
 suddenly drew herself up. 
 
 "I must ask you, Herr Rojanow, to return the 
 flower to me. I intended it for my husband." 
 
 "Ah, so? I beg your pardon, Your Excellency." 
 
 He handed her the flower with a deep bow, which 
 she accepted with a barely noticeable inclination of 
 the head. Then the heavy white train glided past 
 him, and he was alone. 
 
 In vain! Everything glided off this icy nature. 
 
 Hartmut stamped his foot angrily. Only ten 
 minutes ago he had passed such harsh judgment on 
 all women, without an exception, to the Prince. 
 Now he had sung again that charming tune which 
 he had tried so often successfully, and had found 
 one who resisted it. But the proud, spoiled man 
 would not believe that he could lose the game which 
 he had won so often, when just here he was so anx- 
 ious to win it
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 185 
 
 And would it really remain only a game? He 
 had not as yet accounted to himself for it, but he felt 
 that the passion which drew him to the beautiful 
 woman was mingled at times with hatred. 
 
 They were conflicting emotions which had been 
 deeply stirred when he w r alked by her side through 
 the forest half admiring, half repellent. But it 
 was just that which made the chase so interesting 
 to the practised huntsman. 
 
 Love ! The high, pure meaning of the word had 
 remained foreign to the son of Zalika. When he 
 learned to feel, he was living at his mother's side, 
 she who had made such shameful play of her hus- 
 band's love; and the women with whom she asso- 
 ciated were no better. The later life which she led 
 with her son, unsettled and adventurous, with no 
 firm ground under their feet, had finally crushed out 
 the last remnant of idealism in the young man. He 
 learned to despise before he learned to love, and 
 now he felt the merited humiliation given him to be 
 an insult. 
 
 "Struggle on," he muttered; "you battle against 
 yourself. I have seen and felt it; and the one who 
 does that, does not conquer in such a struggle."
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 A SLIGHT noise at the entrance caused Hartmut 
 to look up. It was the Ambassador who appeared 
 on the threshold, casting a searching glance into the 
 room. He came for his wife, whom he thought 
 still there. 
 
 He started at sight of Hartmut, and for a 
 moment seemed undecided. Then he said, half 
 audibly: "Herr Rojanow." 
 
 "Your Excellency." 
 
 "I should like to speak to you privately." 
 
 "I am at your service." 
 
 Wallmoden entered, but took up his position so as 
 to keep the entrance in view. It was hardly neces- 
 sary, for the doors of the dining room had just been 
 thrown open, and the whole assembly floated there. 
 The salon adjoining the tower room was already 
 empty. 
 
 "I am surprised to see you here," the Ambassa- 
 dor began in suppressed tones, but with the same 
 insulting coldness which he had shown at the first 
 meeting, and which brought the blood to the young 
 man's brow. He drew himself up threateningly. 
 
 "Why, Your Excellency?" 
 
 "The question is superfluous. At any rate, I re- 
 quest you not to again force me into the position I 
 was brought into a short while ago, when Prince 
 Adelsberg introduced you to me." 
 
 "The forced position was mine," returned Hart- 
 
 186
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 187 
 
 mut, just as sharply. "I will not assert that you 
 consider me an intruder here, for you, best of all, 
 know that I have a right to this intercourse." 
 
 "Hartmut von Falkenried would have had a 
 right, of course; but that has changed." 
 
 "Herr von Wallmoden!" 
 
 "Not so loud, if you please," interrupted the Am- 
 bassador. "We might be overheard, and it would 
 surely not be desirable to you that the name I just 
 now uttered should be heard by outsiders." 
 
 "It is true that at present I carry my mother's 
 name, to which I surely have a right. If I laid 
 aside the other, it happened out of considera- 
 tion " 
 
 "For your father," finished Wallmoden, with 
 heavy emphasis. 
 
 Hartmut started. This was an allusion which he 
 could not bear yet. 
 
 "Yes," he replied, curtly. "I confess that it 
 would be painful to me if I were forced to break this 
 consideration." 
 
 "And why? Your role here would be played 
 out, anyway." 
 
 Rojanow stepped close to the Ambassador with a 
 passionate gesture. 
 
 "You are the friend of my father, Herr von Wall-, 
 moden, and I have called you uncle in my boyhood ; 
 but you forget that I am no longer the boy whom 
 you could lecture and master at that time. The 
 grown man looks at it as an insult." 
 
 "I intend neither to offend you nor to renew old 
 connections, which neither of us consider as exist- 
 ing," said Wallmoden, coldly. "If I desired this 
 conversation, it was to declare to you that it will not 
 be possible to me, in my official position, to see you
 
 188 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 
 
 in intercourse with the Court, and be silent when it 
 would be my duty to enlighten the Duke." 
 
 "Enlighten the Duke! About what?" 
 
 "About several things which are not known here 
 and which have probably remained unknown to 
 Prince Adelsberg. Please do not fly into a passion, 
 Herr Rojanow. I would do this only in an extreme 
 case, for I have to spare a friend. I know how a 
 certain incident hurt him ten years ago, which is 
 now forgotten and buried in our country, and, if all 
 this should come up again and be brought into pub- 
 licity, Colonel Falkenried would die of it." 
 
 Hartmut blanched. The defiant reply did not 
 cross his lips. "He would die of it." The awful 
 word., the truth of which he felt only too well, 
 forced aside for the moment even the insult of the 
 remark. 
 
 "I owe my father alone an account of that occa- 
 sion," he replied in a painfully suppressed voice; 
 "only him and nobody else." 
 
 "He will hardly ask for it. His son is dead to 
 him; but let that rest. I speak especially now of 
 later years ; of your stay at Rome and Paris, where 
 you lived with your mother in lavish style, although 
 the estates in Roumania had had to be sacrificed at a 
 forced sale." 
 
 "You seem to be all-knowing, Your Excellency !" 
 hissed Rojanow in great anger. "We had no idea 
 that we were under such conscientious surveillance. 
 We lived upon the balance of our fortune which had 
 been rescued from the wreck." 
 
 "Nothing was rescued; the money was entirely 
 lost to the last penny." 
 
 "That is not true," interrupted Hartmut, 
 stormily.
 
 .THE SIGN OF FLAME. 189 
 
 "It is true. Am I really better informed about 
 it than you?" The voice of the Ambassador 
 sounded cuttingly sharp. "It is possible that Frau 
 Rojanow did not want her son informed of the 
 source from which she derived her means, and left 
 him in error about it intentionally. I know the 
 circumstances. If they have remained unknown to 
 you- so much the better for you." 
 
 "Take care not to insult my mother," the young 
 man burst^forth; "or I shall forget that your hair is 
 gray, and demand satisfaction." 
 
 "For what? For a statement for which I can 
 produce the proofs ? Lay aside such foolishness, of 
 which I shall take no notice. She was your mother, 
 and is dead now; therefore we will go no deeper 
 into this point. I should only like to put this ques- 
 tion to you : Do you intend, even after this conver- 
 sation, to remain here and appear in the circle into 
 which Prince Adelsberg has introduced you?" 
 
 Hartmut had turned deathly pale at the hint of 
 the muddy origin of his mother's means, and the 
 numb terror with which he looked at the speaker be- 
 trayed that he indeed knew nothing about it. But 
 at this last question he regained his composure. 
 
 His flashing eyes met those of his opponent, and 
 a wild decision sounded in his voice as he replied: 
 "Yes, Herr von Wallmoden, I remain." 
 
 The Ambassador did not seem to have expected 
 this defiance; he probably thought to have accom- 
 plished the matter more easily, but he retained his 
 composure. 
 
 "Really? Well, you are accustomed to playing a 
 high hand, and you seem to wish here also but 
 hush ! Some one is coming. Reconsider the mat- 
 ter, perhaps you will change your mind."
 
 190 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 He quickly entered the adjoining room, in which 
 the Chief Forester now appeared. 
 
 "Where have you hidden yourself, Herbert?" he 
 asked, when he beheld the Ambassador. "I have 
 looked everywhere for you." 
 
 "I wished to find my wife." 
 
 "She is already in the dining room, like every- 
 body else, and where you are being missed. Come, 
 it is high time that we get something to eat." 
 
 Herr von Schonan took possession of his brother- 
 in-law in his ever jovial manner and went off with 
 him. 
 
 Hartmut stood still in his place. He struggled 
 for breath ; the excitement threatened to choke him. 
 Shame, hatred, anger, all floated wildly through his 
 heart. That hint of Wallmoden's had hurt him ter- 
 ribly, although he but half understood it. It tore 
 asunder the veil with which he had half uncon- 
 sciously, half intentionally shrouded the truth. He 
 had, indeed, believed that a remnant of their wealth, 
 rescued from the wreck, had given him and his 
 mother their income. But it was not the first time 
 that he had shut his eyes to what he did not wish to 
 see. 
 
 He had enjoyed life in deep draughts without 
 calling himself to account for it when the hand of 
 his mother had so suddenly torn him from the en- 
 forced paternal education into unlimited freedom; 
 when he exchanged the routine of the strictest 
 duties for a life full of intoxicating enjoyments. 
 He had then been too young to judge, and later on 
 it was then too late; habit and example had 
 woven too unyielding a net around him. Now, for 
 the first time, it was being shown him clearly and 
 unmistakably what the life was that he had led so
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 191 
 
 long the life of an adventurer; and as an adven- 
 turer he had been pointed out the exit from society. 
 
 But hotter than the shame of that burned the 
 affront which had been given him, and hatred for 
 the man who had forced this indisputable truth upon 
 him. The unfortunate inheritance from his mother, 
 the hot, wild blood which had once been fatal to the 
 boy, welled up like a stream of fire, and every other 
 thought went down in a sensation, wild and limit- 
 less, of thirst for revenge. 
 
 His handsome features were distorted beyond 
 recognition when he finally left the room, with 
 tightly closed teeth. He knew and felt but one 
 thing that he must have revenge revenge at any 
 price !
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 IT was very late when the fete came to an end. 
 After the withdrawal of the ducal couple, a general 
 move for departure took place. Carriage after car- 
 riage rolled down the Schlossberg; the bright lights 
 were extinguished, and Furstenstein began to 
 shroud itself in darkness and silence. 
 
 In the apartments devoted to the Ambassador and 
 his wife, however, the lights still burned. 
 
 Adelaide stood at the window in her rich robe of 
 the fete and looked out into the night like one lost 
 in thought, but it was with a peculiar, weary ges- 
 ture that she leaned her head against the window 
 panes. 
 
 Wallmoden sat at the writing table, glancing 
 through some letters and dispatches which had ar- 
 rived in the last hour. They seemed to contain im- 
 portant news, for he did not lay them aside with 
 other papers to receive attention to-morrow morn- 
 ing, but grasped a pen and hastily wrote a few lines, 
 then arose and quickly approached his wife. 
 
 "This comes unexpectedly," he said. "I shall 
 have to go to Berlin." 
 
 Adelaide turned in surprise. "So suddenly?" 
 
 "Yes; I thought to accomplish this very serious 
 affair by letter, but the Minister expressly desires a 
 personal interview. Therefore I shall take leave of 
 the Duke to-morrow morning for a period of about 
 a week, and depart immediately." 
 
 The young bride's features could not be distin- 
 
 XM
 
 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 193 
 
 guished in the semi-darkness, but her breast heaved 
 with a deep sigh, which betrayed a perhaps uncon- 
 scious relief. 
 
 ''At what hour do we leave?" she asked quickly; 
 "I should like to notify my maid." 
 
 "We? This is entirely a business trip, and, 
 naturally, I go alone." 
 
 "But I could accompany you." 
 
 "What for? You understand that it means an 
 absence of only a week or two." 
 
 "No matter. I I should like to see Berlin 
 again." 
 
 "What a whim !" said Wallmoden, shrugging his 
 shoulders. "I shall be so occupied this time that I 
 could not accompany you anywhere." 
 
 The young wife had approached the table and 
 now stood in the full light of the lamp. She was 
 much paler than usual, and her voice had a sup- 
 pressed sound as she returned: "Well, then, I shall 
 go home. I should really not like to remain here 
 alone at tntrstenstein without you." 
 
 "Alone?" The Ambassador looked at her in as- 
 tonishment. "You will be with our relatives, whose 
 guests we are. How long have you been so desir- 
 ous of protection ? It is a thing I have not observed 
 in you so far. I do not understand you, Adelaide. 
 What is this strange caprice of wishing to accom- 
 pany me at all hazards?" 
 
 "Accept it as a caprice, then, but let me go with 
 you, Herbert ; I beg of you." 
 
 She laid her hand entreatingly upon his arm, and 
 her eyes were directed with almost an expression of 
 fear upon her husband's face, whose thin lips parted 
 in a sarcastic smile. It was that superior smile, 
 which could be so insulting at times.
 
 194 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 
 
 "Ah, so? Now I understand. That scene with 
 the Princess has been disagreeable to you. You 
 fear renewed annoyances, which will probably not 
 fail to come. You must lose this sensitiveness, my 
 child. On the contrary, you ought to be aware of 
 the fact that this encounter alone puts you to the 
 necessity of remaining here. Every word, every 
 look is interpreted at Court, and a sudden departure 
 on your part would give rise to all sorts of specula- 
 tions. You have to hold your own now, if you do 
 not wish to make your connections with the Court 
 forever difficult." 
 
 The young wife's hand slipped slowly from his 
 arm, and her look sank to the floor at this cool re- 
 joinder to her almost beseeching entreaty the first 
 she had uttered in her short marriage. 
 
 "Hold my own," she repeated, in a low voice. "I 
 do that, but I hoped you would remain at my 
 side." 
 
 "That is not possible just now, as you see; be- 
 sides, you understand in a masterly manner how to 
 defend yourself. You have shown that to me as 
 well as to the whole Court to-day, but I am sure the 
 hint I gave you will be considered, and that you 
 will be more cautious with your answers in the 
 future. At any rate, you will remain at Fursten- 
 stein until I return for you." 
 
 Adelaide was silent. She saw that nothing was 
 to be gained here. 
 
 Wallmoden stepped back to the writing table and 
 looked at the document just received; then he 
 grasped the sheet on which he had written the 
 answer and folded it. 
 
 "One thing more, Adelaide," he said, carelessly; 
 "the young Prince Adelsberg was constantly at
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 195 
 
 your side to-night. He pays homage to you in 
 rather a conspicuous manner." 
 
 "Do you wish me to decline these attentions?" 
 she asked, indifferently. 
 
 "No; I only ask you to draw the necessary limit, 
 so that no idle talk may ensue. I do not intend to 
 cut short your social victories. We do not live in 
 burgher circumstances, and it would be ridiculous in 
 my position to play the jealous husband who views 
 every attention paid his wife with suspicion. I 
 leave this entirely to your own tact, in which I have 
 unlimited confidence." 
 
 All of this sounded so tranquil, so sensible, so 
 boundlessly indifferent, Herr von Wallmoden 
 might, indeed, be exonerated from any thought of 
 jealousy. The openly offered admiration of the 
 young, charming Prince caused him no anxiety; he 
 quietly left his wife to her "tact." 
 
 "I shall attend to this dispatch myself," he con- 
 tinued ; "as we have a telegraph station in the castle 
 since the Duke's arrival. You should ring for your 
 mail, my child; you look somewhat fatigued and 
 probably feel so. Good night." 
 
 He left the room, but Adelaide did not follow the 
 advice. She had drawn near the window again, 
 and a half bitter, half pained expression trembled 
 on her lips. She had never felt so painfully as at 
 this moment that she was nothing more to her hus- 
 band than a shining jewel which one exhibits, a wife 
 whom one treats with perfect politeness and atten- 
 tion because she brought in her hand a princely for- 
 tune, and to whom a request could be denied with 
 equal politeness; a request which might have been 
 so easily granted. 
 
 Night rested over the forest; the sky was cloudy
 
 196 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 and dark, with here and there a solitary star glim- 
 mering through the flying clouds. A pale face 
 looked up to the gloomy sky; not with the cold, 
 proud composure the world was accustomed to see, 
 but with an expression of beseeching entreaty. 
 
 The young wife pressed both hands to her bosom, 
 as if the pain and unrest were there. She had 
 wished to flee from the dark power whose approach 
 she had felt, and which was drawing the circles 
 nearer and closer around her. She had wished to 
 flee to her husband's protection. In vain! He 
 would go away and leave her alone, and another re- 
 mained another, who, with dark, glowing eyes and 
 thrilling voice, wielded such a mysterious, irresist- 
 ible power. "Ada," the name with its sweet, for- 
 eign sound, floated near her like a spirit's breath. 
 It was her name which the legend of the Arivana 
 bore!
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 OCTOBER had come, and autumn began to show 
 its reign in a marked manner. The foliage of the 
 trees bore gay tints; the country was wrapped, 
 morning and night, in mist. The nights sometimes 
 brought frost, while the days were unusually fine 
 and sunny. 
 
 With the exception of that large fete which had 
 collected the whole community, and the hunts, 
 which were naturally prominent at this time of the 
 year, no particular festivities took place. 
 
 The Duke, as well as his wife, loved to entertain 
 small circles, and did not wish to disturb the quiet 
 and freedom of their autumn visit with brilliant 
 entertainments. On that account excursions were 
 more often taken. The forest hills were being ex- 
 plored on horseback and in carriages, and the ducal 
 table daily held a large number of guests. Adelaide 
 von Wallmoden belonged to this small circle. The 
 Duchess, who had learned in what manner her sis- 
 ter-in-law tried to make the position of the young 
 Baroness more difficult, counterbalanced it with 
 greater affability, drawing Adelaide into her pres- 
 ence at every opportunity; and the Duke, who 
 wished to distinguish the Ambassador and his wife, 
 was well satisfied with it. 
 
 Wallmoden was still in Berlin. The two weeks 
 he had appointed for his trip had passed away, and 
 yet nothing was said of his return. 
 
 197
 
 198 THE SIGK OF FLAME. 
 
 One of the most frequent visitors at Furstenstein 
 was Egon von Adelsberg, the pronounced favorite 
 of his princely relatives; and his friend, Rojanow, 
 was always honored with an invitation. The 
 young Prince had prophesied correctly. Hartmut 
 was like a shining meteor, whom all eyes followed 
 with admiration, and of whom it was not expected 
 that he should follow in the old beaten track of 
 Court life. 
 
 He had read his Arivana to them at the request of 
 the Duchess, and with it had gained a perfect tri- 
 umph. The Duke had immediately promised him a 
 performance of the drama in the Court Theatre, and 
 Princess Sophie turned her special favor upon the 
 young poet. 
 
 The surrounding Court circle, of course, followed 
 the example of the princely people in this case only 
 too gladly, for the charm he exercised was uni- 
 versal. 
 
 The hunting carriage of Prince Adelsberg stood 
 before the castle of Rodeck. It was still early, and 
 the misty October morning seemed to promise a 
 clear, beautiful day. Egon had just appeared upon 
 the terrace in full hunting costume and was speak- 
 ing with the castle steward, who followed him. 
 
 "And so you wish to look at the hunt also?" he 
 asked. "Of course, Peter Stadinger has to be 
 wherever anything is to be seen. My valet has also 
 asked leave of absence, and I believe the whole 
 population of the Wald will turn out to-day to be 
 at the hunting grounds." 
 
 "Yes, Your Highness, such things are not often 
 to be seen," said Stadinger. "The great Court and 
 gala hunts have become rare in our Wald. Hunt- 
 ing goes on everywhere, but then the gentlemen are
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 199 
 
 mostly by themselves, like here at Rodeck, and if the 
 ladies are not there " 
 
 "Then it is unbearably tiresome," completed the 
 Prince. "Quite my opinion ; but you are otherwise 
 prejudiced against womankind, and cry out if any 
 one who has not reached a good old age comes with- 
 in the borders of Rodeck. Have you changed your 
 opinion in your old days ?" 
 
 "I meant the high princely ladies, Your High- 
 ness," declared the old servant, with particular em- 
 phasis. 
 
 "The high princely ladies could only honor me 
 with a visit upon the occasion of a drive. I cannot 
 invite them, as I am a bachelor." 
 
 "And why is Your Highness still a bachelor?" 
 asked Stadinger in reproachful tones. 
 
 "Man, I believe you also have matrimonial plans 
 for me as well as the world has," laughed Egon. 
 "Spare your pains; I shall not marry." 
 
 "That is not right, Your Highness," persisted 
 Stadinger, who gave his master his title at least 
 once in every sentence because it was "respectable" 
 so to do, while at the same time he took the liberty 
 of lecturing him upon every occasion ; "and it is also 
 unchristian! ike, for matrimony is a holy state, in 
 which one feels well off. Your sainted father was 
 married and so was I." 
 
 "Oh, of course, you too. You are even grand- 
 father of a most charming granddaughter, whom 
 you have most cruelly sent off. When does she 
 come back, anyhow?" 
 
 The steward thought best to lose the last 
 question, but he remained obstinately at his sub- 
 ject. 
 
 "Your Highness, the Duchess and the Princess
 
 200 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Sophie are of the same opinion. Your Highness 
 should consider the subject seriously." 
 
 "Well, since you exhort so paternally, I will con- 
 sider it. But, concerning the Princess Sophie, she 
 intends to drive to Bucheneck, which is the meet- 
 ing place of to-day's hunt; it may be possible she 
 will notice you there and may speak to you." 
 
 "Very probable, Your Highness," confirmed the 
 old man, complacently. "Her Highness always 
 honors me by speaking to me, because she knows me 
 as the oldest servant of the ducal house." 
 
 "Very well. If the Princess should ask casually 
 after the snakes and animals which I have brought 
 back from my travels, you say that they have al- 
 ready been sent to one of my other castles." 
 
 "It is not necessary at all, Your Highness," Stad- 
 inger assured him, benevolently; "the most illustri- 
 ous aunt already knows all about it." 
 
 "Knows all about what? Have you told her 
 anything?" 
 
 "At your service. The day before yesterday, 
 when I was at Furstenstein, Her Highness had just 
 returned from a drive and graciously beckoned me 
 to approach and asked me Her Highness likes to 
 do that " 
 
 "Yes, Heaven knows!" groaned the young 
 Prince, who already scented mischief. "And what 
 did you answer?" 
 
 " 'Your Highness may rest easy,' I said ; 'we have 
 only monkeys and parrots of the live animals in the 
 castle. Serpents have never been there. A large 
 sea serpent, though, was to have arrived, but he died 
 on the voyage, and the elephants tore themselves 
 lose at the embarking and ran back to the palm for- 
 ests at least, so His Highness says. To be sure,
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 20i 
 
 we have two tigers, but they are stuffed ; and of the 
 lions, there is only the skin, which lies in the ar- 
 mory. Therefore Your Highness may see that the 
 beasts cannot break loose and do harm.' ' 
 
 "Oh, but you have fixed things now with your 
 chattering!" cried Egon, exasperated. "And the 
 Princess, what did she say?" 
 
 "Her Highness only smiled and inquired what 
 kind of female servants we had at Rodeck, and if 
 the girls of this vicinity were among them; but I 
 said then here Stadinger drew himself up con- 
 sciously " 'The servants in service at the castle I 
 have hired. They are all industrious and reliable ; I 
 have looked out for that. But His Highness runs 
 when he puts eyes on them, and Herr Rojanow runs 
 still more; and the gentlemen have never gone back 
 into the kitchen since the first time they went 
 there.' After that Her Highness was most gra- 
 cious and condescended to praise me and dismissed 
 me in the very highest satisfaction." 
 
 "And I should like to run you to perdition in the 
 very highest dissatisfaction," the Prince burst forth, 
 wrathfully. "You unlucky old Waldgeist, what 
 have you been doing again ?" 
 
 The old man, who apparently thought that he had 
 done his part extremely well, looked at his master in 
 perplexity. 
 
 "But I have only said the truth, Your Highness." 
 
 "There are cases where one must not say the 
 truth." 
 
 "So ? I did not know that till now." 
 
 "Stadinger, you have quite an abominable way of 
 answering. Have you told the Princess also that 
 Lena has been in town for the past four weeks ?" 
 
 "At your service, Your Highness."
 
 203 THE SIGtf OP FLAME. 
 
 "What is the matter with Stadinger again?" in^ 
 quired Hartmut, who emerged from the castle, also 
 dressed for the hunt, and who had heard the last of 
 the conversation. 
 
 "He has committed a first-class foolishness/' 
 grumbled Egon, but he was met with bad success by 
 the "oldest servant of the ducal house," who drew 
 himself up, deeply offended. 
 
 "With your permission, Your Highness, I have 
 not committed the foolishness." 
 
 "Do you mean perhaps that I have done it?" 
 
 Stadinger looked at his master keenly from the 
 corner of his eye, after which he said deliberately: 
 "That I do not know, Your Highness; but it may 
 be so." 
 
 "You are a churl !" cried the Prince, hotly. 
 
 "Known for that through all the Wald, Your 
 Highness." 
 
 "Come, Hartmut; nothing can be done with the 
 old, grumbling bear to-day," said Egon, half laugh- 
 ing, half vexed. "At first he gets me into scrapes, 
 and then he lectures me on top of it. May gra- 
 ciousness help you, Stadinger, if you give any more 
 such reports !" 
 
 With which he entered the carriage with Roja- 
 now. Stadinger remained standing in military po- 
 sition and saluted as was demanded by his idea of 
 the respectful, for respect was the main thing, al- 
 though he did not in the least think of giving in by 
 so doing. His Highness, Prince Egon, had to do 
 that; he could not come up with his Peter Stad- 
 inger.
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 EGON was evidently of the same opinion as he 
 narrated the proceeding to his friend, and concluded 
 with comic despair : "Now you can imagine what a 
 reception will be mine from the most illustrious 
 aunt. She has guessed that I wished to keep her 
 away from Rodeck. My morals are rescued in her 
 eyes, but at the expense of my veracity. Hartmut, 
 do me the favor of showering your sweetest affabil- 
 ity upon my revered aunt. If necessary, compose 
 a poem for her as a lightning rod; otherwise the 
 flash of her most high anger will annihilate me." 
 
 "Well, I should think you were weather-proof in 
 this respect," quoth Hartmut. "You have had to 
 have forgiveness for many similar escapades. The 
 Duchess and the younger ladies will be at the chase 
 on horseback, will they not?" 
 
 "Yes, they could not see much from a carriage. 
 Do you know that Frau von Wallmoden sits her 
 horse perfectly. I met her the day before yester- 
 day as she returned from a ride with her brother-in- 
 law, the Chief Forester." 
 
 "Ah, so? Well, one knows, then, where Prince 
 Adelsberg will be to-day exclusively." 
 
 Egon, who had been reclining comfortably, 
 straightened himself and looked at his friend in- 
 quiringly. 
 
 "Not so much sarcasm, if you please. Although 
 you are not to be found so frequently in the presence 
 of the afore-mentioned lady, and even pretend a cer- 
 
 203
 
 204 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 tain coldness toward her, I know you too well not 
 to see that we are only too much of the same 
 opinion." 
 
 "And if it were so, would you consider it a break 
 in our friendship?" 
 
 "Not in this case, where the object is unobtain- 
 able to both." 
 
 "Unobtainable!" That unpleasant smile again 
 passed over his lips. 
 
 "Yes, Hartmut," said the Prince, seriously, "the 
 beautiful, cold Aurora, as you have christened her, 
 remains true to her nature. She stands far re- 
 moved and unapproachable on the horizon, and the 
 ice sea from which she rises is not to be penetrated. 
 The lady has no heart; she is incapable of a passion- 
 ate feeling, and this gives her this enviable security. 
 Come, confess that here your power is wrecked. 
 The icy breath has chilled you, and therefore you 
 flee from it." 
 
 Hartmut was silent. He thought of those mo- 
 ments in the tower room, when he asked for the bril- 
 liant flower. It had been refused him, but it had 
 not been an icy breath which came from the Baron- 
 ess when she had trembled under the gaze of the 
 beseecher. 
 
 He had since seen her almost daily, but had rarely 
 approached her, although he knew that he held her 
 under his spell now as before. 
 
 "Nevertheless, I cannot get free from this foolish 
 infatuation," continued Egon, with a half dreamy 
 expression. "It seems to me that life and warmth 
 could grow up in that nature, and change the snow 
 region into a blooming world. If Adelaide von 
 Wallmoden were still free, I believe I should make 
 the attempt."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 205 
 
 Rojanow, who had been gazing into the misty 
 forest, lost in thought, turned quickly and sharply: 
 
 "What attempt? Does that perhaps mean that 
 you would offer her your hand ?" 
 
 "You seem really horror-stricken at the idea." 
 The Prince laughed aloud. "I meant that, indeed. 
 I have no prejudice against the manufacturing 
 world, like my most gracious aunt, whom such a 
 possibility would indeed throw into convulsions. 
 Strange to say, you seem to think so, too. Well, 
 both of you may rest easy. His Excellency, the 
 husband, has seized the prize ; but he truly does not 
 make a life of roses for her with his tiresome diplo- 
 matic face. Ah ! but the man has had enviable good 
 luck." 
 
 "Call no man happy before his death," muttered 
 Hartmut under his breath. 
 
 "A very wise remark, and one not quite new to 
 me. But you sometimes have something in your 
 eyes which frightens me. Do not be offended, 
 Hartmut; but you look like a demon at this 
 moment." 
 
 Rojanow made no answer. 
 
 The road now left the forest, and yonder Fur- 
 stenstein rose into view, where the ducal colors 
 floated in the morning breeze. Half an hour later 
 the carriage rolled into the castle court, where an 
 animated scene reigned. 
 
 The entire force of servants was at hand ; saddle 
 horses and carriages were ready, and the greater 
 number of invited guests had already arrived. 
 
 The start took place at the appointed hour, and 
 the bright light of the sun, breaking through the 
 mist, shone resplendent on the imposing cavalcade 
 as it moved down the Schlossberg.
 
 206 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 The Duke and Duchess led the party; then fol- 
 lowed the numerous suite and the whole assembly 
 of guests, and the grooms in full livery who were 
 permitted to go. 
 
 Out through the sunny autumn morning into the 
 forests and heights of the hunting preserves, where 
 it soon became lively. Firing resounded on all 
 sides ; the flying game broke through the thickets or 
 sped across the openings, now alone and now in 
 droves, only to be reached finally by a ball ; and the 
 usually quiet forest gave back the echo of the chase. 
 
 The Chief Forester had ordered out the entire 
 forester staff of the Wald, and had made all ar- 
 rangements so excellently that it brought him great 
 honor to lead the chase, which was not marred by 
 any accident. 
 
 Toward noon a rendezvous was held at Buche- 
 neck, a small ducal forest lodge situated in the 
 midst of the Wald, and which could afford shelter 
 in case of unfavorable weather. This was not nec- 
 essary to-day, for the weather had turned out to be 
 fine, only a little too warm for an October day. 
 The sun burned so hotly as to render it unpleasant 
 at luncheon, which was partaken of out of doors; 
 but otherwise all passed off happily and uncere- 
 moniously, and a gay scene developed upon the large 
 green meadow, at the border of which Bucheneck 
 was situated. 
 
 The entire hunting cortege was assembled here. 
 The Duke, who had been especially fortunate in the 
 chase to-day, was in the very best of spirits. The 
 Duchess chatted with animation to her surrounding 
 ladies, and the Chief Forester beamed with pleasure, 
 for the Duke had expressed his satisfaction in the 
 most flattering manner.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 20? 
 
 Frau von Wallmoden, who was near the Duchess, 
 was the subject of general admiration to-day. She 
 was, without doubt, the most beautiful of all the as- 
 sembled ladies, nearly all of whom needed rich 
 dressing and candle-light to bring out their beauty. 
 Here, in the bright, midday sun, in plain, dark rid- 
 ing habits, which permitted no colors or jewels, 
 many an otherwise admired appearance faded. The 
 young Baroness alone remained victorious in this 
 simplicity. Her tall, slender figure looked as if 
 formed for her habit, while the transparent clear- 
 ness and freshness of her skin, and the shining 
 blondness of her hair were even more to be admired 
 in daylight than at the night fete. Besides, she had 
 really proved herself an able horsewoman, who sat 
 in the saddle with as much ease as security; in short, 
 the "beautiful Aurora," as Frau von Wallmoden 
 was now called in the court circle since Prince 
 Adelsberg had given her that name, was admired 
 on all sides, and received the more attention as it 
 was known that she was to disappear for several 
 weeks. 
 
 The Ambassador had notified his wife yesterday 
 that his diplomatic work was now finished, but that 
 he would utilize his presence in North Germany in 
 looking after the Stahlberg works. 
 
 Important changes had been planned there, and 
 new improvements spoken of, for which a final de- 
 cision had to be made, and Wallmoden, as executor 
 and guardian of the heir, had the deciding voice in 
 it. His presence at the conference was indispen- 
 sable ; he had asked leave of absence from his office, 
 and had notified the Duke of a return later. 
 
 At the same time he left it to his wife to decide 
 whether she would remain at Furstenstein or take
 
 208 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the trip to her old home with him, if she wished to 
 see her brother. Now, after fully two weeks, no 
 one could misconstrue her departure. The young 
 wife had immediately chosen to go with her hus- 
 band, and had notified the Duchess that she should 
 leave on the morrow.
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 PRINCESS SOPHIE had arrived at Bucheneck with 
 her lady of honor and the elder ladies in carriages, 
 and now attempted, above everything, to lay hands 
 on her illustrious nephew; but he developed an in- 
 credible aptness at keeping out of her reach. He 
 was everywhere except in the near presence of his 
 most gracious aunt, until finally she lost patience 
 and ordered a gentleman to call Prince Adelsberg 
 into her presence. 
 
 Egon had to obey this command, but he used the 
 precaution of taking the "lightning rod" with him. 
 Rojanow was at his side when he stood before the 
 Princess. 
 
 "Well, Egon, do I really get a glimpse of you?" 
 was the not very gracious reception. "You seem to 
 have been taken possession of on all sides to-day." 
 
 "I am always ready for the service of my most 
 gracious aunt," declared Egon in honeyed accents; 
 but the sweetness did him no good. The Princess 
 measured him with an annihilating glance. 
 
 "As far as your knightly service to Frau von 
 Wallmoden leaves you time. She will give this 
 chivalry a glowing mention to her husband. You 
 may know him, perhaps?" 
 
 "Certainly. I revere him highly as a man, as a 
 diplomat and as His Excellency. Your Highness 
 may believe that." 
 
 "I believe you unconditionally, Egon. Your 
 
 209
 
 210 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 love for veracity is far above any doubts with me," 
 said the lady, with stinging sarcasm. "I just hap- 
 pen to remember speaking the day before yesterday 
 with the steward of Rodeck the old Stadinger 
 who is still very active for his years." 
 
 "But he suffers seriously from failing memory," 
 the Prince hastened to assure her. "I am sorry to 
 say that Stadinger forgets everything. Is it not 
 so, Hartmut? He positively does not know to-day 
 what he saw yesterday." 
 
 "On the contrary, I found that his memory was 
 exceptionally fresh. Besides, he is the oldest and 
 truest servant of your house, reliable careful " 
 
 "And a churl," interrupted Egon, sighing. 
 "Your Highness, you have no idea of the unlimited 
 gruffness which dwells in this Peter Stadinger. He 
 tyrannizes over Herr Rojanow and me shamefully. 
 I have actually thought of retiring him." 
 
 Of course, he did not dream of that. His High- 
 ness knew better than to make Peter Stadinger such 
 a proposition, and would have fared badly if he had. 
 But Princess Sophie, who had the reputation of 
 being very haughty and relentless toward her ser- 
 vants, now favored a very mild course. 
 
 "You should not do that," she remonstrated. "A 
 man who is now serving the third generation of the 
 ducal family may be pardoned such a thing, particu- 
 larly considering the somewhat loose housekeeping 
 which the young gentlemen lead at Rodeck. It 
 seems that they do not like to see visitors there, pre- 
 ferring the solitude." 
 
 "Ah, yes, the solitude!" sighed Egon, sentimen- 
 tally. "It does one so much good after the stormy 
 life of travel, and we enjoy it in full draughts. I 
 occupy myself mostly "
 
 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 2il 
 
 "With the taming of your wild animals," fin- 
 ished the Princess maliciously. 
 
 "No, with with my travelling memoirs, which 
 I intend to publish; and Hartmut composes melan- 
 choly songs. He has just now the material for a 
 ballad under his pen, to which Your Highness drew 
 his attention." 
 
 "Why, Herr Rojanow, have you really utilized 
 the theme?" asked the lady, whose face now sud- 
 denly beamed with sunshine, as she turned to the 
 young poet. 
 
 "Certainly, Your Highness. I am very grateful 
 to you for the suggestion," said Hartmut, who had 
 not the slightest idea what the subject was, but felt 
 that he had to go into action now. 
 
 "I am glad of that. I love poetry and seek it at 
 every opportunity." 
 
 "And with what understanding and apprecia- 
 tion !" cried Egon, enthusiastically. But he quickly 
 embraced the opportunity of slipping away, leaving 
 his friend behind as the victim. He hastened to the 
 presence of the Duchess, which meant the presence 
 of Frau von Wallmoden, where he seemed to feel 
 decidedly better than with his most gracious aunt. 
 
 The chase was resumed after luncheon was over. 
 It was now a hunt for large game, which was com- 
 menced with renewed zeal. 
 
 But the hitherto sunny weather changed in the 
 afternoon. The sky grew cloudy and dark, but it 
 remained warm, almost stifling, and a heavy bank 
 of cloud arose in the west. It looked as if one of 
 those late thunderstorms was preparing, which 
 passed at times over the Wald at this season. 
 
 The Duchess, with a portion of her attendants, 
 had taken her stand upon a hill which seemed to
 
 212 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 afford the best view, but soon the chase took an- 
 other quite unexpected direction, and the onlookers 
 made ready to follow. 
 
 Frau von Wallmoden met here with a slight acci- 
 dent. The girth of her saddle suddenly broke and 
 she sprang lightly from the stirrup, thus saving her- 
 self from a fall. It was not possible to continue her 
 ride, for although the accompanying groom could 
 have given her a horse, there was no lady's saddle at 
 hand; consequently she had to give up further par- 
 ticipation, and decided to walk back to Bucheneck, 
 to where one of the grooms would lead her horse. 
 
 Adelaide had requested the servant to precede 
 her, and she lingered on the hill which had become 
 quiet and lonely. It almost seemed that the acci- 
 dent had been welcome to her, since it relieved her 
 from attending the chase to the end. 
 
 It is always a relief when one can drop a mask 
 which has deceived the world and can breathe in 
 solitude, if it only brings conviction of the heavy 
 load one had to bear under that mask. 
 
 Where had the cold, proud calm vanished with 
 which the young wife had entered her new home 
 upon the arm of her husband? Now, when she 
 knew herself alone and unobserved, it could be 
 plainly seen that she had changed much. 
 
 That strong will-line which had made her re- 
 semble her father so much had become more pro- 
 nounced, but besides that there was another line 
 a painful one as of a person who has to struggle 
 with secret torture and anxiety. The blue eyes had 
 lost the cold, dispassionate expression. A deep 
 shadow rested within them which also told of 
 struggle and pain, and the blonde head drooped as if 
 under an invisible but heavy load.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 And yet Adelaide drew a breath of relief at the 
 thought that this would be the last day she should 
 spend at Furstenstein. By to-morrow she would 
 be far from here. Perhaps there would be rest in 
 the far removal of the dark power against which 
 she had struggled now for weeks so painfully, and 
 yet so vainly. 
 
 Perhaps she would get better if she did not see 
 those eyes day after day, nor hear that voice. 
 
 When she should have fled from the enchanted 
 circle the charm would have to break, and now at 
 last she could flee oh, the happiness of it! 
 
 The noise of the chase sounded in ever-increasing 
 distance, and was finally lost, but steps now sounded 
 in the forest which encircled the hill closely, and 
 warned the young Baroness that she was no longer 
 alone. She started to leave, but at the moment she 
 turned the one approaching emerged from under the 
 trees. 
 
 Hartmut Rojanow stood before her. 
 
 The meeting was so sudden and unexpected that 
 Adelaide's composure was not proof against it. 
 She retreated to the trunk of the tree, under the 
 boughs of which she had been standing, as if seek- 
 ing there a protection from this man, upon whom 
 she gazed with fixed, fearful eyes with the gaze 
 of a wounded animal which sees the huntsman ap- 
 proach. 
 
 Rojanow did not seem to notice it. He saluted 
 her and asked hastily: "You are alone, Your Ex- 
 cellency ? The accident did not ' have any serious 
 consequences ?" 
 
 "What accident?" 
 
 "It was said you had a fall from your horse." 
 
 "What exaggeration! The girth broke, but I
 
 214 THE SIGN OF tfLAME. 
 
 knew it in time to spring from the stirrup, while 
 the horse stood perfectly still that was the acci- 
 dent." 
 
 "God be praised! I heard something of a fall 
 an injury and as you did not reappear at the chase 
 I feared " 
 
 He paused, for Adelaide's glance showed him 
 plainly that she did not believe this pretense; prob- 
 ably he knew the whole occurrence and had learned 
 why and where Frau von Wallmoden had been left 
 behind. She now regained her composure. 
 
 "I thank you, Herr Rojanow, but your being at 
 all concerned was not necessary," she said coldly. 
 "You could have told yourself that had there been 
 a real accident the Duchess and the other ladies 
 would not have left me helpless in the forest. I 
 am on my way to Bucheneck." 
 
 She attempted to pass him. He bowed and 
 stepped aside as if to let her pass, but said in a low 
 voice : 
 
 "Gracious lady, I have yet to ask your pardon." 
 
 "My pardon! For what?" 
 
 "For a request which I uttered thoughtlessly and 
 for which I have had to suffer seriously. I only 
 asked for a flower. Is that, then, so severe a trans- 
 gression that one should be angry over it for 
 weeks ?" 
 
 Adelaide had paused almost without knowing it. 
 
 Again she was under the charm of these eyes 
 this voice, which held her fast as with magnetism. 
 
 "You are mistaken, Herr Rojanow. I am not 
 angry with you." 
 
 "Not? And yet it is this icy tone I have always 
 to hear since I dared approach you in that hour. 
 You have learned, too, to know my work, for which
 
 ME SIGtf OF FLAME. 215 
 
 I begged a recognition. You were present when I 
 read it at Furstenstein. My Arivana was praised 
 overwhelmingly on all sides, but from your mouth 
 alone I heard no word not one. Will you refuse 
 it even now?" 
 
 "I thought we were hunting to-day," said Ade- 
 laide with an attempt to pass the subject by, "where 
 it is surely not admissible to speak of poetical 
 works." 
 
 "We have both left the chase ; it is running now 
 toward the Rodeck forest. There is only forest 
 solitude here. Look at this autumn-tinted foliage 
 which warns so mournfully of fleeting existence 
 the silent water down there, those thunder clouds 
 in the distance. I believe there is a more endless 
 amount of poetry in all this than in the halls of 
 Furstenstein." 
 
 He pointed to the landscape which spread out be- 
 fore them, but no longer in the bright sunlight that 
 had favored the chase at the beginning. Now it lay 
 in the dim light of an overcast sky, which made 
 even the gay foliage appear withered and dull. 
 
 They could see far out into the mountains, which, 
 retreating on both sides, left the distance free. The 
 endless ocean of forest crowns which only a few 
 weeks ago waved green and airily in the breeze, now 
 bore the color of the fall. They shone from the 
 darkest brown to brilliant golden yellow in every 
 shade all around, and shining red gleamed from the 
 bushes and shrubs. 
 
 The dying forest adorned itself once more with 
 deceptive splendor, but it was only the coloring of 
 the passing away and dying. All life and bloom 
 were at an end. 
 
 Deep in the ravine lay a little forest lake, which,
 
 216 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 dark and motionless, seemed to dream in the wreath 
 of reeds and rushes which surrounded it. It re- 
 sembled strangely another pond that, far away in 
 North Germany, lay in the midst of a pine forest 
 the Burgsdorf pond which, like this one, ended in 
 a meadow where rich green beckoned, nourished by 
 the swamp and bog, hiding itself deceitfully beneath 
 it, and drawing the ignorant one into its depth 
 without hope of rescue. 
 
 Even now in daylight it seemed to breathe fog 
 and twilight, and when night should descend the 
 will-o'-the-wisp probably commenced here also its 
 ghostly play. 
 
 At the horizon, where in clear weather the sum- 
 mits of the mountains were visible, towered now a 
 dark bank of clouds. As yet in the distance, its 
 stifling breath rested already over the Wald, and at 
 times a dull light flashed from it. 
 
 Adelaide had not answered Hartmut's question. 
 She gazed out over the country to avoid looking 
 into the face of the man who stood before her, but 
 she felt the dark, passionate look which rested upon 
 her face, as she had always felt it in the last weeks, 
 as soon as Rojanow was in her presence. 
 
 "You are going away to-morrow, gracious lady," 
 he commenced agajn. "Who knows when you will 
 return and when I shall see you again? May not 
 I beg for your opinion ? May I not ask if my work 
 has found grace in the eyes of Ada?" 
 
 Her name again upon his lips; again that soft, 
 veiled, yet passionate, tone which she feared, and 
 yet to which she listened as to enchanting music ! 
 
 Adelaide felt that here she was a prisoner; there 
 was no chance for flight. She had to look the 
 danger full in the face.
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 ADELAIDE VON WALLMODEN turned slowly to- 
 ward her questioner, and her features betrayed that 
 she was determined to end the hard struggle the 
 struggle with her own self. 
 
 "You play strangely with this name, Herr Ro- 
 janow," she said emphatically and proudly. "It 
 stood over the poem which was put into my posses- 
 sion in a mysterious manner last week, written in a 
 strange hand, without signature " 
 
 "And which you read, nevertheless/' he inter- 
 rupted triumphantly. 
 
 "Yes, and burned." 
 
 "Burned!" 
 
 From Hartmut's eyes flashed again the uncanny 
 look which had startled even Egon and made him 
 exclaim, "You look like a demon!" 
 
 The demon of hate and revenge had risen wildly 
 against the man who had insulted him unto death 
 and whom he therefore wished to hurt unto death, 
 and yet he loved that man's wife as the son of Zalika 
 alone could love with wild, consuming passion; 
 but that which he felt at this moment resembled 
 hatred more than love. 
 
 "The poor leaf," he said with ill-concealed bitter- 
 ness. "And so it had to suffer death in the flames 
 perhaps it deserved a better fate." 
 
 "You ought not to have sent it to me, then. I 
 dare not and will not accept such poetry." 
 
 217
 
 218 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "You dare not, gracious lady ? It is the homage 
 of a poet which he lays at the feet of the woman 
 who has been his from the beginning of time and 
 you will concede that to him also." 
 
 The words came but half-aloud from his lips, but 
 so hot and passionate that Adelaide shuddered. 
 
 "You may pay homage like that to the women of 
 your country, and in such words," she said. "A 
 German woman does not understand it." 
 
 "But you have understood it, nevertheless," Hart- 
 mut burst forth, "and you also understood the doc- 
 trine of the intense ardor of my Arivana, which 
 bears off the victory over all human laws. I saw it 
 that evening when you turned your back apparently 
 so coldly upon me, while all the others overwhelmed 
 me with admiration. Do not deceive yourself, 
 Ada. When the divine spark falls into two souls it 
 flames up, in the cold north as well as the fervent 
 south, and it already burns within us. In this 
 breath of fire, will and will-power die the death ; it 
 smothers everything that has existed, and nothing 
 remains but the holy, blazing flame which shines 
 and makes happy, even if it destroys. You love me, 
 Ada I know it do not attempt to deny it, and I 
 I love you boundlessly." 
 
 He stood before her in the stormy triumph of the 
 victor, and his dark, demoniacal beauty had, per- 
 haps, never been as captivating as at this moment, 
 when the fire which breathed in his words burst also 
 from his eyes his whole being. 
 
 And he did speak the truth! 
 
 The woman who leaned there against the trunk of 
 the tree so deathly white, loved him as only a pure, 
 proud nature can love; that nature which so far 
 had lived in the delusion that her emotions would
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 219 
 
 forever lie in slumber, called by the world coldness 
 of heart. 
 
 Now she saw herself awaking before a passion 
 which found a thousand-fold echo in her own 
 breast; now that breath of flame floated around 
 her also with its scorching glow; now came the 
 test! 
 
 "Leave me, ^Herr Rojanow, instantly!" cried 
 Adelaide. 
 
 Her voice sounded half smothered, almost in- 
 audible, and she addressed a man who was not wont 
 to yield when he felt himself victorious. 
 
 He started to approach her hastily he suddenly 
 stood still. There was something in the eyes in 
 the bearing of the young Baroness which kept him 
 within bounds, but again he breathed her name in 
 that tone, the power of which perhaps he knew best 
 "Ada." 
 
 She shuddered and made a repellent gesture. 
 
 "Not that name. For you I am Adelaide von 
 Wallmoden. I am married you know that." 
 
 "Married to a man who stands on the border of 
 old age, whom you do not love, and who could not 
 give you any love if he were young. That cold, 
 calculating nature knows no emotion of passion. 
 The Court, his position, his promotion, are every- 
 thing to him his wife, nothing. He perhaps 
 boasts of the possession of a jewel which he does 
 not know how to value, and for which another 
 would give his soul's eternal bliss." 
 
 Adelaide's lips quivered. She knew only too well 
 that he was right, but she did not answer. 
 
 "And what binds you to this man?" continued 
 Rojanow, still more impressively. "A word a 
 single 'Yes' uttered by you without knowing its full
 
 220 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 meaning without knowing yourself. Shall it bind 
 you for your life? Shall it make us both miser- 
 able? No, Ada, love the eternal, undying right 
 of the human heart does not bow before that. Peo- 
 ple may call it guilt, they may call it doom. We 
 stand now under this doom, and must follow it; a 
 single word shall not part us." 
 
 Far off at the horizon the flame burst up with 
 such glaring light that it shone also over the open- 
 ing on the hill. 
 
 Hartmut stood for a moment in this light. He 
 was now so fully the son of his mother; resembling 
 so closely her beautiful but pernicious features ; but 
 it was that flash of lightning that brought Adelaide 
 back to consciousness; or had it shown her the un- 
 holy fire which burned in his eyes? She retreated 
 with an expression of unveiled horror. 
 
 "A solemnly given and accepted word is a vow," 
 she said slowly, "and he who breaks it breaks his 
 honor." 
 
 Hartmut started. Sudden and glaring like that 
 flash of lightning flamed up a remembrance in his 
 mind the resemblance of that hour when he had 
 given a solemn word a word of honor, and had 
 broken it! 
 
 Adelaide von Wallmoden straightened her slen- 
 der figure; her features still showed the deathly 
 pallor as she continued in a low but steady tone to 
 Rojanow : 
 
 "Abandon this persecution which I have felt for 
 weeks. I shudder before you at your eyes, your 
 words. I feel that it is destruction that goes out 
 from you, and one does not love that." 
 
 "Ada!" 
 
 Passionate entreaty sounded in the word, but the
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 221 
 
 low voice of Adelaide gained firmness quickly as 
 she continued : 
 
 "And you do not love me. It has often seemed 
 to me as if it were your hatred that pursued me. 
 You and your kind cannot love." 
 
 Rojanow kept silence in bewilderment. Who 
 taught this young woman, still so inexperienced in 
 life, to look so deeply into his inmost heart? He 
 had not made clear to himself yet how inseparably 
 hate and love were combined in his passion. 
 
 "And you tell this to the writer of Arivana!" 
 he burst out in bitterness. "They have called my 
 work the high song of love " 
 
 "Then they have let themselves be deceived by the 
 veil of the Oriental legend in which you shrouded 
 your characters. They saw then only the East 
 Indian priest sink with his beloved one under an 
 iron, inhuman law. You are perhaps a great poet, 
 and perhaps the world overwhelms you with praise, 
 but it tells me something different this fervent, 
 ardent doctrine of your Arivana. It has taught me 
 to know its creator a man who does not believe in 
 anything, and to whom nothing in the world is 
 sacred; no duty and no vow; no man's honor and 
 no woman's virtue who would not hesitate to drag 
 the highest into the dust as play for his passion. 
 I still believe in duty and honor; I still believe in 
 myself, and with this faith I offer defiance to the 
 doom you hold so triumphantly before me. I could 
 force myself to death, but never to your arms !" 
 
 She stood before him, not as just now in trem- 
 bling fear in the tortured wrestling with a secret 
 struggle, It seemed as if, with each of the anni- 
 hilating words, one ring of the chain which held 
 possession of her so mysteriously was broken. Her
 
 222 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 eyes met fully and freely the dark look which had 
 kept her a prisoner so long; the charm was broken 
 now and she felt it, and breathed like one rescued. 
 
 Again that flash in the distance noiseless, with- 
 out the rumbling of thunder but it was as if 
 heaven had opened in all its vastness. Fantastic 
 formation of clouds was in this flaring light forms 
 which seemed to wrestle and struggle with each 
 other, born of the storm, and yet that bank of cloud 
 stood motionless at the horizon and just as mo- 
 tionless stood the man, whose dark features showed 
 now an ashy paleness in the glare of the lightning. 
 
 His eyes were fixed upon the young woman, but 
 the wild fire in them had died out, and his voice 
 had a strange sound as he said: "And this is the 
 opinion I asked for? I am nothing more in your 
 eyes than an outcast ?" 
 
 "A lost man, perhaps. You have forced me to 
 this confession." 
 
 Hartmut slowly retreated a few steps. 
 
 "Lost!" he repeated hoarsely. "In your mean- 
 ing, perhaps, yes. You may rest assured, gracious 
 lady, I shall not approach you any more. One does 
 not desire to hear such words a second time you 
 stand so high and proud upon your virtue and, 
 judge so severely. Of course you have no idea what 
 a hot, wild life can make of a person who wanders 
 restlessly, without home and family, through the 
 world. You are right I have not believed in any- 
 thing, either upon high or here upon the earth 
 until this hour." 
 
 There was something in his tone, in his whole 
 bearing, that disarmed Adelaide. She felt that she 
 would not have to fear another burst of his passion, 
 and her voice softened involuntarily at her answer.
 
 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 223 
 
 "I do not judge anybody; but with my whole 
 mind and being I belong to another world, with 
 other laws than yours. I am the daughter of an 
 idolized father, who, all of his life, knew but one 
 road that of earnest, severe duty. On that he 
 worked himself up from poverty and want to wealth 
 and honor. He led his children along this road, 
 and his memory is the shield which covers me in 
 every hard hour. I could not bear it if I had to 
 cast down my eyes before the picture of my memory. 
 You probably have no father?" 
 
 A long, heavy pause ensued. Hartmut did not 
 answer, but his head sank under those words, the 
 crushing weight of which the Baroness had no idea, 
 and his eyes were upon the ground. 
 
 "No," he at last replied, hoarsely. 
 
 "But you have the memory of him and your 
 mother." 
 
 "My mother!" Rojanow started up suddenly and 
 violently. "Do not speak of her in this hour do 
 not speak to me of my mother." 
 
 It was an outburst of mingled bitterness, of accu- 
 sation and despair. The mother was being judged 
 by her son in this exclamation. He rejected her 
 memory as a desecration of this hour. 
 
 Adelaide did not understand him; she saw only 
 that she had touched a topic which did not admit 
 of explanation, and she also saw that the man who 
 stood before her now with this dark look with 
 this tone of despair was a different being from 
 that one who had approached her a quarter of an 
 hour ago. It was a dark, mysterious depth into 
 which she gazed, but it no longer caused her fear. 
 
 "Let us end this conversation," she said earnestly. 
 ''You will not seek a second, one I trust you. Bu.t
 
 224 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 one more word before we part. You are a poet. I 
 felt it in spite of all when I heard your work, and 
 poets are teachers of mankind. They can lead to 
 happiness or destruction. The wild flames of your 
 Arivana seem to burst forth from the depths of a 
 life which you yourself seem to hate. Look there!" 
 She pointed into the distance, which was now 
 lighted up again in a flaming glow. "Those are 
 also signs of flame, but they come from on high, 
 
 and they point to another road Farewell !" 
 
 ****** 
 
 She had disappeared long ago, but Hartmut still 
 stood as if rooted to the ground. He had not re- 
 plied with one word had made no motion ; he only 
 looked with hot, fixed eyes to where now one flash 
 of lightning after another tore the clouds asunder, 
 shrouding the whole country with a fiery cloak, and 
 then he looked at the little forest lake which re- 
 sembled so closely that one at Burgsdorf, with its 
 waving reed and the deceiving, foggy meadow, 
 which here also pressed so close to the water. 
 
 The boy had once dreamed among such whisper- 
 ing rushes of soaring up like the falcon of which 
 his race bore the name, in boundless freedom ever 
 higher toward the sun and at the same place the 
 decision over his fate had been made on that dark 
 autumn night, when the will-o'-the-wisp led its 
 ghostly dance. 
 
 But the deserter had not risen to the sun the 
 earth had held him fast ; the rich, green meadow had 
 drawn him down deeper and deeper. He had felt 
 at times that the intoxicating cup of freedom and 
 life which the hand of his mother gave him was 
 poisoned, but no precious memory shielded him; he 
 did not dare to think of his father.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Over there in the distance the forms of cloud 
 struggled and wrestled wilder and wilder; closer 
 and closer together they drew, and in the midst of 
 this struggle and this darkness the flames again 
 burst victoriously the powerful flames from on 
 high.
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 THE winter social life had commenced at the 
 Residenz, where the professional element played a 
 conspicuous role. The Duke, who loved and en- 
 couraged art, took great pride in gathering re- 
 nowned members of it into his presence, seeking to 
 retain them in his capitol, and, of course, society 
 followed largely in the same direction. 
 
 The young poet who was being so highly favored 
 by the Court, and whose first large work was to ap- 
 pear on the court stage, was from the first an inter- 
 esting person to everybody, and the tales which 
 were told about him served to increase this interest. 
 
 It was very unusual for a Roumanian to compose 
 his work in the German language, even when it 
 was whispered that he had received his education in 
 Germany. Besides that, he was the bosom friend, 
 and the guest here in town also, of Prince Adels- 
 berg, and all sorts of touching and wonderful stories 
 were narrated about this friendship. 
 
 Above all, Hartmut's personality gave him a fa- 
 vored position wherever he went. The young, 
 handsome, highly-gifted stranger, whom a half- 
 romantic, half-mysterious air surrounded, had only 
 to make his appearance even here to draw all eyes 
 upon him. 
 
 The rehearsal of Arivana had commenced imme- 
 diately after the return of the ducal party to the 
 Residenz, under the personal supervision of the 
 
 225
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 23? 
 
 poet; while Prince Adelsberg, who in his enthu- 
 siasm for the work of his friend, had changed into 
 a kind of manager, made life hard to the perform- 
 ers by all sorts of requests in regard to the filling of 
 characters and the setting of the play. 
 
 He knew how to get his way, and the scenery and 
 setting were brilliant ; the roles were all filled by the 
 first talent of the Court Theatre, and even the opera 
 singers were called into service, since one of the 
 roles required a rather extensive part of song. One 
 could not expect this from an actress, therefore a 
 young singer Marietta Volkmar was entrusted 
 with it. 
 
 The performance of the play, which was to have 
 taken place at a later date, was being hastened as 
 much as possible, as guests were expected at Court, 
 and the new drama, which toyed so poetically and 
 airily with the Indian legend as a background, was 
 to be performed before the illustrious guests. An 
 unusual success was anticipated. 
 
 This was the state of affairs at the return of 
 Herbert von Wallmoden, who was naturally pain- 
 fully surprised. Although he had learned from a 
 casual question to his wife that Rojanow still kept 
 up his intercourse at Furstenstein, and although he 
 had not counted upon a sudden disappearance on 
 Rojanow's part which would necessarily have caused 
 comment, still he had been of the firm opinion that 
 in spite of his haughty decision to remain, Hartmut 
 would consider it again and make his retreat as 
 soon as Prince Adelsberg left Rodeck. Surely he 
 would not dare to appear at the Prince's side at the 
 Residenz, where his stay might be made impossible 
 through those threatened "explanations." 
 
 But the Ambassador had not counted upon the
 
 228 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 unyielding defiance of -the man who ventured and 
 dared a high game here. Now, after a few weeks, 
 he found him in a favored position in every respect 
 and in closest intercourse with the court society. 
 
 If now, just before the performance of the drama 
 which the Duke favored so decidedly, and of which 
 the whole town was already talking, one should 
 publish the disclosures of the former life of the 
 poet, it would touch all circles unpleasantly and ap- 
 pear malicious. 
 
 The experienced diplomat did not deceive himself 
 about the fact that the deep displeasure which would 
 doubtless take possession of the Duke would then 
 fall back upon himself, because he had not spoken 
 before at the first appearance of Rojanow. Noth- 
 ing was left for him to do but to keep silence and 
 await developments. 
 
 Wallmoden was far from having an idea that a 
 heavy danger had threatened himself from that 
 quarter. He supposed that his wife knew Hart- 
 mut only as a companion of Prince Adelsberg. She 
 had never mentioned the name since, after her ar- 
 rival in Berlin, she answered a seemingly careless 
 question just as carelessly, and he had also kept 
 silence. She must not and should not learn any- 
 thing of those old connections which he had kept 
 from her from the beginning. 
 
 But he dared not be silent toward his nephew, 
 Willibald, if he did not wish to live to see an- 
 other scene of recognition like that upon the Hoch- 
 berg. 
 
 The young lord had accompanied his relatives to 
 South Germany; was to remain but a few days at 
 the Residenz, and go from there to Furstenstein to 
 his betrothed, for the Chief Forester had specially
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 229 
 
 requested that the visit, which was so suddenly 
 broken off in September, should be finished now. 
 
 "You were here barely a week," he wrote to his 
 sister-in-law, "and now I beg for my son-in-law a 
 little longer. Everything has been put in order 
 now at your much-loved Burgsdorf, and there is not 
 much to do in November. Therefore at least send 
 us Willy if you cannot get off. A refusal will not 
 be accepted. Toni expects her betrothed." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen saw that he was right and 
 was willing to send Willy for she, of course, de- 
 cided the matter. He had made no new attempt 
 to rebel against the maternal ruling, and seemed, 
 anyway, to have come to his senses completely 
 again. He was, perhaps, more quiet than before, 
 and threw himself with quite unusual zeal into his 
 agricultural work after his return, but otherwise 
 bore himself especially well. 
 
 He remained obstinate only upon one point: he 
 would not speak with his mother about that "silli- 
 ness" which had caused the sudden departure, and 
 avoided every explanation concerning it. Appar- 
 ently he was ashamed of that quickly-flaming affec- 
 tion, which probably had never been serious, and 
 did not wish to be reminded of it. 
 
 He wrote frequently to his fiancee, and received 
 just as punctual replies. The correspondence, how- 
 ever, was more of a practical than a tender nature, 
 and mostly concerned plans for their future lives 
 and farm arrangements ; but one saw from this that 
 the young lord considered his marriage, for which 
 the day had been set, as quite decided, and Frau 
 Regine, who deemed it her indisputable right to 
 read all of the letters of the engaged couple, de- 
 clared herself satisfied with them.
 
 230 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 
 
 So Willibald received a gracious permission to 
 visit his betrothed, which was now so much less 
 hazardous since the dangerous little person Mari- 
 etta Volkmar was at present at the Residenz, 
 where her position kept her. But to be quite sure, 
 Frau von Eschenhagen put her son under the pro- 
 tection of her brother, who, with his wife, had paid 
 a brief visit to Burgsdorf upon his return from the 
 Stahlberg works. 
 
 If Willibald, during the two or three days of his 
 visit at the Residenz, remained at Wallmoden's 
 house and went with them exclusively, no danger 
 was to be feared. 
 
 The Ambassador saw soon after his arrival that 
 he would be forced to enlighten his nephew regard- 
 ing Hartmut Rojanow, for the name was mentioned 
 on all sides already the first day. Willy, who at 
 that former time had been the confidant of the 
 secret rendezvous of Hartmut and his mother, and 
 knew her name, started upon hearing it, coupled 
 with a remark that a young Roumanian was the 
 gifted poet, which made him still more suspicious. 
 
 He glanced in perplexity at his uncle, who man- 
 aged to signal to him just in time not to question 
 any further, and who then embraced the first op- 
 portunity to tell him the truth. 
 
 He did this, of course, in the most inconsiderate 
 manner, and presented Hartmut as an adventurer 
 of the worst kind, whom he would in a very short 
 time force to give up the role which he was playing 
 here, without being in the least entitled to it. 
 
 Poor Willibald's head swam at the news. His 
 bosom friend to whom he had always been at- 
 tached with the fondest affection, and to whom he 
 still clung in spite of the harsh sentence which was
 
 THE SIGN 1 OF FLAME. 
 
 being pronounced upon him was here in his imme- 
 diate vicinity, and he was not to go to see him 
 was not even to recognize him if chance should 
 bring about a meeting. Wallmoden especially im- 
 pressed the latter upon his nephew, who, quite 
 stunned, promised obedience and silence, as well 
 toward Adelaide as to his fiancee and the Chief 
 Forester; but he could not understand the thing by 
 a long shot yet. He needed time for that as for 
 everything.
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 THE day upon which Arivana was to be pre- 
 sented had arrived. It was the first work of a 
 young author and quite unknown poet, but the cir- 
 cumstances made it a professional event, which was 
 viewed by everybody with intensest interest. 
 
 From the earliest hour the Court Theatre was 
 filled to its utmost capacity, and now the ducal 
 couple also appeared with their guests to occupy the 
 large court box. Although not formally announced, 
 the performance had the character of a benefit, to 
 which the brilliantly lighted house and the rich cos- 
 tumes and uniforms bore witness. 
 
 Prince Adelsberg, who appeared in the court box, 
 was as excited as if he had written the drama him- 
 self. Besides, he found himself in as rare as joyful 
 accord with his most gracious aunt, who had called 
 him to her, and was speaking about the work of the 
 poet. 
 
 "Our young friend seems to have caprices like all 
 poets," she remarked. "What a notion to change 
 the name of the heroine at the last moment !" 
 
 "It did not happen at exactly the last moment," 
 replied Egon. "The change was made at Rodeck. 
 Hartmut suddenly took a notion that the name 
 'Ada' was too cold and pure for his fiery heroine, 
 and so her name was changed forthwith." 
 
 "But the name Ada stands on the programme," 
 said the Princess. 
 
 232
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 233 
 
 "Yes, but it has been turned over to an entirely 
 different character of the drama, who appears only 
 in one scene." 
 
 "So Rojanow has made changes since his read- 
 ing at Furstenstein ?" 
 
 "Only a few; the piece itself has remained quite 
 the same, except the changing of names and that 
 short appearance of Ada ; but I assure Your High- 
 ness this scene which Hartmut has added to the 
 play is the most beautiful thing he has ever written." 
 
 "Yes, of course, you find everything beautiful 
 which comes from the pen of your friend," said the 
 Princess, but the indulgent smile with which she 
 dismissed the Prince showed that she was of the 
 same opinion. 
 
 In one of the proscenium boxes were seen the 
 Prussian Ambassador and his wife returned only a 
 day or two from his vacation. His presence at the 
 theatre to-day was indeed not of his free will, for 
 he would gladly have remained away from this per- 
 formance, but dared not out of consideration for his 
 position. The Duke himself had disposed of the 
 boxes, and had invited the foreign diplomats and 
 their ladies; there was no possibility of remaining 
 away, particularly as Herr and Frau von Wall- 
 moden had, only a few hours previously, partici- 
 pated in a large dinner at the ducal palace. 
 
 Willibald, who had won permission from his 
 uncle to at least get acquainted with the work of 
 his friend, sat in the parquette. Wallmoden was 
 not pleased with his presence here, but could not 
 well forbid him what he was going to do himself. 
 Willy, who with difficulty had found a seat, had not 
 thought that a member of the opera could be em- 
 ployed in the theatre, but when he opened the pro-
 
 234 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 
 
 gramme and came suddenly upon the name of 
 "Marietta Volkmar," whom he was to see to-night, 
 he folded the paper with a quick gesture and hid it 
 in his pocket, regretting now sorely having come to 
 the theatre. 
 
 The performance now commenced. The curtain 
 rose and the first scene passed quickly. It was a 
 kind of preface, to acquaint the audience with the 
 strange, fantastic world into which they were to be 
 introduced. 
 
 Arivana, the ancient, sacred place of sacrifice, ap- 
 peared in a magnificent and appropriate setting. 
 The most prominent character of the piece, the 
 young priest, who, in the fanaticism of his belief, 
 renounces utterly everything worldly and unholy, 
 enters, and the vow which removes him for time 
 and eternity from the world, and binds him body and 
 soul to his deity, resounds in powerful, soulful 
 verse. 
 
 The vow was offered the sacred fire flamed high, 
 and the curtain fell. 
 
 Applause, for which the Duke gave the signal, 
 came from all sides. Although it was assured that 
 a work which was encouraged and favored so by all 
 should have a certain success, at least upon its open- 
 ing night, there was something else mingled in the 
 applause. The audience already felt that a poet 
 spoke to them ; his creation had perhaps needed the 
 approval of the Court, but now, since it was before 
 them, it sustained itself. One was attracted and 
 held by the language the characters by the 
 theme of the drama, which already betrayed itself in 
 its principal features, and when the curtain rose 
 afresh, intense, expectant silence rested over the 
 vast audience hall.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 235 
 
 And now the drama developed upon a back- 
 ground as rich and glowing in color as were its 
 language and its characters. The magnificent ver- 
 dure, the fairy-like splendor of its temples and pal- 
 aces, the people with their wild hatred and wilder 
 love, and the severe, iron laws of their belief all, 
 all, was fantastic and strange; but the feeling and 
 acting of these people were familiar to every one, 
 for they stood under the power which was the same 
 centuries ago, as to-day, and which takes root the 
 same under the glowing sky of the tropics as in the 
 cold North the passion and power of the human 
 heart. 
 
 This was indeed a "glowing doctrine," and it 
 preached without restraint the right of the passions 
 to storm over law and institutions over oaths and 
 vows to reach their aims; a right such as Hart- 
 mut Rojanow had understood and practised with 
 his unreined will, who recognized no law or duty, 
 but who was all in all unto himself. 
 
 The awakening of the passion its powerful 
 growth, its final triumph were all depicted in 
 transporting language, in words and acts which 
 seemed to originate, now from the pure heights of 
 the ideal, and now from the depths of an abyss. 
 
 Not in vain had the poet shrouded his characters 
 in the veil of Oriental legend, but under this veil he 
 dared to speak and indorse that which would hardly 
 have been permitted him, and he did it with a bold- 
 ness which threw, igniting sparks into the hearts of 
 the listeners, enchaining them demoniacally. 
 
 Arivana's success was assured already at the sec- 
 ond act. The work was done by artists who be- 
 longed to the best on the stage, and they were doing 
 the best playing ever witnessed. Those^ taking the,
 
 236 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 principal roles especially acted with the perfection 
 of abandon which only real enthusiasm can give. 
 
 The heroine's name was no longer Ada. Another 
 form now bore this name one who was strangely 
 foreign to this excited picture of passions; one of 
 those tender, half-fairy-like beings with whom the 
 Indian legends inhabit the snow dwellings upon the 
 icy heights of the Himalayas cold and pure as the 
 eternal snow which shines upon them. 
 
 Only in one single instance, in the parting scene, 
 she floated on spirit's wings through the stormy, 
 excited gathering, remonstrating, entreating, warn- 
 ing; and Egon was right. The words which the 
 poet had put into her lips were, perhaps, the most 
 beautiful of the entire drama. It burst suddenly 
 like pure, heavenly light into the flaming glow of a 
 crater; but the scene was as short as beautiful. 
 Quick as a breath the apparition disappeared again 
 into her snow dwelling, and down yonder at the 
 moonlit bank of the river floated the entrancing song 
 of the Hindoo girl Marietta Volkmar's soft, swell- 
 ing voice under the coaxing charm of which the 
 cry of warning from the heights was dispelled and 
 unheeded. 
 
 The last act brought the tragic end; the break- 
 ing of the doom over the guilty pair; the death in 
 the flames. This death was no atonement, but a 
 triumph "a shining, divine death," and with the 
 flames there also flared up to heaven the demoniacal 
 doctrine of the unconditional right of the passions. 
 
 The curtain sank for the last time, and the ap- 
 plause, which had increased after every act, now 
 grew to a storm. Usually the applause at the court 
 performances was kept within measured bounds, but 
 to-day it broke over the barriers. The flames of
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 237 
 
 Arivana had kindled the enthusiasm with which 
 the whole house demanded the appearance of the 
 author. 
 
 Hartmut finally appeared without embarrass- 
 ment or timidity glowing with pride and joy; he 
 bowed acknowledgment to the audience, which to- 
 day offered him a drink he had never yet tasted in 
 his wildly tossed life. They were intoxicating, 
 these first sips from the cup of fame, and with this 
 intoxicating knowledge, the celebrated poet now 
 looked up to the proscenium box, whose occupants 
 he had long ago recognized. He did not find, how- 
 ever, what he sought. Adelaide was leaning back 
 in her chair, and her face was hidden by her open 
 fan. He saw only the cold, unmoved face of the 
 man who had insulted him so deeply, and who was 
 now a witness of his triumph. 
 
 Wallmoden understood only too well what the 
 flash of those dark eyes told him : "Do you dare yet 
 to despise me?"
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 THE following morning at an early hour Willi- 
 bald von Eschenhagen walked through the park, 
 which he wanted to see at least so he had told his 
 uncle. 
 
 The large, forest-like park which was situated 
 directly before the city, was indeed worth seeing, 
 but Willibald paid no attention to the landscape, 
 which did not look very inviting this bleak Novem- 
 ber day. 
 
 Without a glance to right or left he walked 
 quickly forward, taking aimlessly now this and now 
 that path, without noticing that he repeatedly re- 
 turned to the same spot. It seemed as if he wished 
 with this stormy walk to calm an inner unrest; he 
 had really gone out to be alone in the free, open air. 
 
 The young lord tried to persuade himself that it 
 was only the meeting again with the friend of his 
 youth that had taken him so completely out of his 
 composure. He had not heard anything of Hart- 
 mut for fully ten years did not even dare to men- 
 tion him at home, and now he suddenly saw the, 
 lost one again, with the halo of a growing poetical 
 glory around his head. Deeply and wonderfully 
 changed in appearance and manner, in spite of all 
 he was still the Hartmut with whom he had played 
 his boyish games so often. He should have recog- 
 nized him at the first glance without having been 
 prepared for the meeting. 
 
 Wallmoden, on the contrary, seemed to be dis- 
 
 ( 238
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 239 
 
 agreeably surprised at yesterday's success. He had 
 hardly spoken during the drive home; his wife as 
 little. She had stated in the carriage that the hot 
 air of the theatre had given her an intolerable head- 
 ache, and retired immediately upon their arrival 
 home. The Ambassador followed her example, 
 and when he gave his hand to his nephew, who 
 wished him good-night, he said curtly : "Our under- 
 standing remains the same, Willibald. You are to 
 keep silence toward everybody, whoever it be. Look 
 out that you do not betray yourself, for the name 
 Rojanow will be in everybody's mouth during the 
 next few days. He has had luck again this time 
 like all adventurers." 
 
 Willibald had accepted the remark silently, but 
 he still felt that it was something else which gave 
 the author of Arivana this success. 
 
 Under other circumstances he would have consid- 
 ered this work as something unheard of incom- 
 prehensible without understanding it, but, strange 
 to say, the understanding for it had dawned upon 
 him yesterday. 
 
 One could fall in love without the solemn ap- 
 proval of the respected parents, guardians and rela- 
 tions ; it happened not only in India, but it happened 
 here sometimes, too. One could also incautiously 
 and hastily burden oneself with a vow and break it 
 but what then ? 
 
 Yes, then came the doom which Hartmut had 
 pictured so horribly and yet so fascinatingly. Willy 
 was transporting in earnest the highly romantic 
 teachings of Arivana into Burgsdorf affairs, and 
 the doom suddenly assumed the features of Frau 
 von Eschenhagen, who, in her wrath, was surely 
 worse than an angry caste of priests.
 
 240 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 The young lord heaved a deep sigh. He thought 
 of the second act of the play, when, from the circle 
 of Hindoo girls who marched to the place of sacri- 
 fice, a delicate figure had stepped forth, inexpressi- 
 bly charming in the white, flowing garments, and 
 the wreath of flowers in her curls. His eyes had 
 hung riveted upon her, who appeared but twice or 
 thrice upon the stage, but after that her song had 
 sounded from the banks of the moonlit river. It 
 was the same clear, sweet voice which had en- 
 chanted the listener at Waldhofen, and now the old 
 mischief, which he had struggled down and thought 
 forgotten, was back again. It stood before him 
 with giant size, and the worst of it was that he did 
 not even consider it longer as a mischief. 
 
 The tireless walker now came for the third time 
 to a small temple, open in front, and in which stood 
 a statue, while a bench in the background invited 
 one to rest. 
 
 Willibald entered this time and sat down, less 
 from a desire to rest than to be able to follow his 
 thoughts undisturbed. 
 
 It was, perhaps, ten o'clock in the morning, and 
 the paths were at this hour almost deserted. Only 
 a solitary pedestrian a young man elegantly 
 dressed walked leisurely and with apparent aim- 
 lessness along the paths. He seemed to be expect- 
 ing some one, for he glanced impatiently now to- 
 ward town, and now toward the Parkstrasse which 
 bordered the park for some distance. 
 
 Suddenly he came toward the temple and took his 
 stand behind it, where he could keep the path in 
 view without being seen. 
 
 In about five minutes a young lady came from 
 the city a delicate, graceful figure, in dark cloak
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 241 
 
 and fur cape, with her fur cap pressed closely down 
 upon her curly head, and a muff in her hand, from 
 which peeped a roll of music. She was passing the 
 temple quickly, when suddenly she uttered an ejac- 
 ulation of displeased surprise: 
 
 "Ah Count Westerburg!" 
 
 The young man had approached and bowed. 
 
 "What a happy coincidence! How could I hope 
 that Fraulein Marietta Volkmar would take so early 
 a walk in the park!" 
 
 Marietta stood still and measured the speaker 
 from head to foot. Her voice had a half -angry, 
 half-contemptuous sound as she answered : 
 
 "I do not believe in this coincidence, Herr Count. 
 You cross my path too often and persistently for 
 that, although I have shown you sufficiently how 
 annoying your attentions' are to me." 
 
 "Yes, you are endlessly cruel to me," said the 
 Count, reproachfully, but with undeniable imperti- 
 nence. "You do not accept my calls, refuse my 
 flowers and offerings, and do not even return my 
 greetings when I pass you by. What have I done 
 to you? I have ventured to lay homage at your 
 
 feet in the form of jewels, which you returned to 
 j> 
 
 "With the request that you discontinue such im- 
 pertinences once for all," interrupted the young girl 
 vehemently. "I protest, besides, against your con- 
 tinued advances. You have actually lain in wait 
 for me here." 
 
 "Mon Dieu ! I only wished to beg your pardon 
 for that, boldness," assured Count Westerburg, ap- 
 parently submissive, but at the same time he stepped 
 into the middle of the narrow path, so that it was 
 impossible to pass. "I might have known that you
 
 242 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 are unapproachable, for everybody protests that 
 none protects her name so jealously as you, beauti- 
 ful Marietta." 
 
 "My name is Fraulein Volkmar !" cried Marietta, 
 angrily. "Keep your flattering speeches for those 
 who allow such things to be told them. I shall not 
 do it, and if your advances do not cease I shall have 
 to call in protection." 
 
 "Whose protection?" sneered the Count. "Per- 
 haps that of the old lady with whom you live and 
 who is always and everywhere at your side, except 
 in your walk to Professor Marani. The singing 
 studies at the old gentleman's are not dangerous, 
 and that is the only walk you take alone." 
 
 "Then you knew that I went to the Parkstrasse 
 at this hour ! Then it is actually an attack ! Please 
 let me pass. I wish to go." 
 
 She tried to pass by him, but the young man 
 stretched out his arms so that he filled the path. 
 
 "You will assuredly permit me to accompany 
 you, mein Fraulein. Only look, the path is quite 
 lonely and deserted; there is not a soul around. I 
 really must offer you my escort." 
 
 The path seemed, indeed, quite deserted, and an- 
 other girl might have been intimidated by this ref- 
 erence to her defencelessness, but the little Marietta 
 only drew herself up undauntedly. 
 
 "Do not dare to attempt to follow me by even a 
 step." she cried in deepest anger. "Your escort is 
 just as unbearable to me as your presence. How 
 often must I tell you that?" 
 
 "Ah, so angry !" cried the Count with a malicious 
 smile. "Well, I shall not have ventured this attack 
 for nothing. I shall at least repay myself with a 
 kiss from those charming, angry lips."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 243 
 
 He actually prepared to fulfil his threat, approach- 
 ing the quickly retreating girl, but at that moment, 
 propelled by an awful blow, he flew to one side and 
 fell full length upon the damp ground, where he 
 remained lying in a very pitiable plight. 
 
 Startled at this unexpected and stormy succor, 
 Marietta turned around, and her face, flushed from 
 insult and anger, bore expression of great amaze- 
 ment as she recognized her deliverer, who now stood 
 at her side, looking wrathfully at the form upon the 
 ground, as if it were his highest desire to quite 
 finish him. 
 
 "Herr von Eschenhagen you!" 
 
 In the meantime Count Westerburg had strug- 
 gled painfully to his feet and now drew near his 
 aggressor threateningly. 
 
 "How dare you ! Who gives you the right " 
 
 "I advise you to remain ten feet away from this 
 young lady," interrupted Willibald, placing himself 
 in front of Marietta, "or you will fly off again, and- 
 the second blow might not prove as soft as the 
 first." 
 
 The Count, a slender, far from powerful man, 
 measured the giant before him, whose fist he had 
 already felt, but one look was enough to convince 
 him that he would come out second best in an en- 
 counter. 
 
 "You will give me satisfaction if you are worth 
 it," he hissed in a half-choked voice. "Probably 
 you do not know whom you have before you " 
 
 "An impudent fellow whom one chastises with 
 pleasure," said Willy stolidly. "Please remain 
 standing where you are, or I will do it now. My 
 name is Willibald von Eschenhagen. I am lord of 
 Burgsdorf, and can be found at the mansion of the.
 
 244 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Prussian Ambassador if you should have more to 
 
 tell me If you please, mein Fraulein, you may 
 
 trust yourself unhesitatingly to my protection. I 
 pledge myself that you will not be molested fur- 
 ther." 
 
 And now something unprecedented, unheard of, 
 happened. Herr von Eschenhagen, without stam- 
 mering, without showing embarrassment of any 
 kind, offered his arm with a genuinely chivalrous 
 movement to the young lady, and carried her off 
 without concerning himself further about the Count.
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 MARIETTA had accepted the proffered arm with- 
 out speaking a word until, having reached a con- 
 siderable distance, she commenced, with a timidity 
 otherwise foreign to her manner: "Herr von Es- 
 chenhagen " 
 
 "Mein Fraulein." 
 
 "I I am very grateful for your protection, but 
 the Count you have insulted him even with a 
 blow. He will challenge you and you will have to 
 accept it." 
 
 "Of course, with the greatest pleasure," said 
 Willy, and his face was beaming as if the prospect 
 gave him unmixed delight. 
 
 His awkward, embarrassed manner had suddenly 
 disappeared; he felt himself a hero and deliverer, 
 and enjoyed the new position immensely. 
 
 Marietta looked at him in speechless amazement. 
 
 "But it is awful that this should happen for my 
 sake !" she commenced again, "and that it should be 
 just you." 
 
 "Perhaps that is not agreeable to you," said the 
 young lord, who in his present elated mood took 
 offence at the last remark. "But Fraulein, in such 
 a case one has no choice. Forced by necessity, you 
 had to accept me as protector, even if I did not 
 stand very high in your esteem." 
 
 A burning blush spread over Marietta's face at 
 the remembrance of that hour when she had poured
 
 246 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 out her supreme contempt on the man who now 
 took her part so gallantly. 
 
 "I thought only of Toni and her father," she 
 returned in a low voice. "I am blameless in this 
 matter, but if I should be the cause of your being 
 torn from your fiancee " 
 
 "Toni must accept it then as providential," said 
 Willy, upon whom the mention of his betrothed 
 made little impression. "One can lose his life any- 
 where, and one must not always expect the worst 
 
 consequences Where shall I carry you, Frau- 
 
 lein? To the Parkstrasse? I believe I heard that 
 you wished to go there." 
 
 She shook her head quickly. 
 
 "No, no ! I intended going to Professor Marani, 
 who is teaching me a new role, but I cannot sing 
 now it is impossible. Let us look for a carriage ; 
 we may find one over there. I would like to go 
 home." 
 
 Willibald turned his steps at once in the appointed 
 direction, and they walked on silently to the edge of 
 the park, where several cabs were standing. 
 
 The young girl stopped here and looked anxiously 
 and entreatingly at her companion. 
 
 "Herr von Eschenhagen must it really be? 
 Cannot the matter be smoothed over?" 
 
 "Hardly: I have given the Count a heavy blow 
 and called him an impudent fellow, and shall stand 
 to that, of course, if it should come to any explana- 
 tion ; but do not worry about that. The affair will 
 probably be settled with a few scratches by to- 
 morrow or the day after." 
 
 "And must I remain two or three days in this 
 anxious uncertainty ? Will you not at least send me, 
 jyord about it?"
 
 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 247 
 
 Willibald looked into the dark, tearful eyes, and 
 with that look there came into his eyes that strange 
 sudden glow as on that day when he heard the voice 
 of the "singvogelchen" for the first time. 
 
 "If everything passes off happily I shall come my- 
 self and bring you word," he replied. "May I?" 
 
 "Oh, certainly, certainly. But if an accident oc- 
 curs if you should fall?" 
 
 "Then keep me in better remembrance than here- 
 tofore, mein Fraulein," said Willibald, earnestly 
 and cordially. "You must have considered me a 
 great coward oh, do not say anything! You 
 were right. I felt it myself bitterly enough but 
 it was my mother whom I was accustomed to obey, 
 and who loves me very much. But you shall see 
 now that I know how a man must act when a de- 
 fenceless girl is being insulted in his presence. I 
 will now erase, if need be, with my blood, that bad 
 hour." 
 
 Without giving her time to reply he called one of 
 the waiting cabs, opened the door, and gave the 
 driver the street and number which Marietta had 
 given him. She entered the carriage and stretched 
 out her little hand to him once more. He held it 
 for a moment, then the young girl threw herself 
 back upon the cushion with a stifled sob, and the 
 carriage rolled away. 
 
 Willy followed it with his eyes until nothing 
 more could be seen of it, then he drew himself up 
 and said with a kind of grim satisfaction: "Now 
 take care, Herr Count ! It will be a real pleasure to 
 me now to fire until sight and hearing leave me."
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 TWILIGHT came on early this bleak November 
 day, and the Adelsberg palace was already lighted 
 when the Prince, returning from a short drive, 
 reached the portal. 
 
 "Is Herr Rojanow in his rooms?" he inquired of 
 the servant who hastened up. 
 
 "At your service, Your Highness," the man re- 
 plied, bowing low. 
 
 "Order the carriage at nine o'clock. We drive 
 to the ducal palace." 
 
 Egon mounted the stairs and entered the apart- 
 ments of his friend, which adjoined his own on the 
 first floor, and which, like all the rest of the princely 
 house, were furnished with antique splendor. 
 
 A lamp burned upon the table of the sitting-room. 
 Hartmut lay stretched upon a lounge in a position 
 indicative of utter weariness and exhaustion. 
 
 "Are you resting upon your laurels?" asked the 
 Prince, laughing and drawing near. "I cannot 
 blame you, for you have not had a moment's peace 
 to-day. It is really a rather trying business to be 
 a new rising star in the poetical firmament ; nerve 
 is required for it. The people actually fight each 
 other for the honor of being allowed to tell you 
 flatteries. You have held a grand reception to- 
 day." 
 
 "Yes, and now we have to go to the Court be- 
 sides," said Hartmut in a weary voice. The pros- 
 pect seemed to have no charm for him. 
 
 248
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 349 
 
 "We must, indeed. The illustrious ladies and 
 gentlemen wish also to bring their homage to the 
 poet my most gracious aunt at their head. You 
 know she is a kind of bel-esprit, and believes to have 
 found a kindred soul in you. Thank God, she does 
 not order me to her side so continually, and perhaps 
 through this she will forget those unfortunate 
 schemes for my marriage. But you seem to be very 
 unappreciative of the ducal favors which rained 
 upon you yesterday. What is the matter? You 
 hardly answer. Are you not well ?" 
 
 "I am tired. I wish I could escape all this noise 
 and flee to the quiet of Rodeck." 
 
 "Rodeck! Ah, it must be charming there at 
 present, with the November fogs, and the wet, leaf- 
 less forests ! Brrr ! a real spook's haunt !" 
 
 "Nevertheless, I have a real longing for that 
 gloomy solitude, and I shall go there soon for a few 
 days. I hope you have no objections?" 
 
 "I have very many objections to it," exclaimed 
 Egon, indignantly. "What notion is this, I beg of 
 you? Now, when the whole town lifts the poet of 
 Ariv^na upon the shield,- will you withdraw your 
 honored presence and escape all the triumphs and 
 attentions to bury yourself alive in a haunted little 
 forest nook, which is only bearable in sunshine! 
 Everybody will find it incomprehensible." 
 
 "I don't care. I need solitude now. I go to 
 Rodeck." 
 
 Egon shook his head. Although he was accus- 
 tomed to seeing his friend act in this domineering, 
 inconsiderate manner whenever the notion seized 
 him, and had himself spoiled him in this respect 
 with all his might, the present idea seemed too pre- 
 posterous.
 
 250 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 
 
 "I believe my most gracious aunt is right," he 
 said half reproachfully, half jestingly. "She re- 
 marked yesterday at the theatre, 'Our young poet 
 has caprices like all of his class.' I think so, too. 
 What is the matter now, really, Hartmut? Yes- 
 terday and to-day you beamed with triumph, and 
 now I have left you hardly an hour, when I find you 
 in a regular attack of melancholy. Have the papers 
 annoyed you? Perhaps it is some malicious, en- 
 vious critic?" 
 
 He pointed to the writing table, where the even- 
 ing papers lay. 
 
 "No, no," returned Rojanow quickly. But he 
 turned his head so that his face was in shadow. 
 "The papers contain only general remarks so far, 
 and they are all flattering. You know that I am 
 subject to such moods, which often overcome me 
 without cause." 
 
 "Yes, I know that, but now that good luck over- 
 whelms you on all sides, those moods should absent 
 themselves. But you really look haggard that 
 comes from the excitement through which both of 
 us have passed during these last few weeks." 
 
 He bent over his friend with concern, and Hart- 
 mut, in rising regret for his brusque manner, 
 stretched out his hand. 
 
 "Forgive me, Egon. You must have patience 
 with me it will pass off." 
 
 "I hope so, for I want to do proud with my poet 
 to-night. But I will go now, so that you can rest. 
 Do not let anybody disturb you. We have still 
 three hours before we have to go." 
 
 The Prince left the room. He had not seen the 
 bitter expression trembling around Hartmut's mouth 
 when he spoke of his overwhelming good fortune,
 
 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 25i 
 
 and yet he had spoken the truth. Fame was happi- 
 ness perhaps the highest in life and to-day had 
 confirmed the triumph of yesterday, until suddenly, 
 an hour ago, a sharp discord had fallen into the 
 flattering tune. 
 
 The young poet had scanned the papers which he 
 found upon his table on his return. They did not 
 contain explicit remarks about Arivana, but recog- 
 nized unanimously the great success and powerful 
 impression of the work, and promised detailed criti- 
 cism the next day. 
 
 Suddenly, in turning to the last page, Hartmut 
 came upon a name, at the sight of which intense, 
 anxious surprise overwhelmed him. 
 
 The next moment, however, he recognized that 
 he was not the one concerned in the article. It 
 stated that the last journey of the Prussian Am- 
 bassador to Berlin seemed to have been of greater 
 importance than was at first supposed. In an audi- 
 ence with the Duke immediately after his return, 
 Herr von Wallmoden had apparently brought some 
 very important things to light; and now, a high- 
 standing Prussian officer, who was the bearer of 
 important messages to His Highness, was expected. 
 It doubtless concerned military matters, and Colonel 
 Hartmut von Falkenried would arrive in a few days. 
 
 Hartmut dropped the paper as if it had suddenly 
 become red-hot iron. His father would come to 
 this place and would certainly hear everything from 
 Wallmoden must hear everything. The chance 
 of meeting was then very probable. 
 
 "When you shall have gained a great, proud fu- 
 ture, approach him again and ask if he still dares 
 to despise you." 
 
 Zalika had whispered it to her son when he strug-
 
 252 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 gled against flight against the breaking of his 
 word of honor. Now the beginning of his future 
 was made. The name Rojanow already bore the 
 laurel of the poet, and with that the whole past was 
 erased. It should be it must be! This convic- 
 tion flashed in the glance which Hartmut had 
 thrown so triumphantly up to the Ambassador's 
 box yesterday. 
 
 But now, when it meant the meeting of his 
 father's eyes, the defiant one trembled. Those eyes 
 were the only thing upon earth that he feared. 
 
 Hartmut was half decided to go to Rodeck and 
 return only when he heard through the papers that 
 "the high-standing officer" had left the Residenz. 
 
 Yet something kept him here a secret but burn- 
 ing longing. Perhaps the hour of reconciliation 
 had now come when the poet's fame rose so bril- 
 liantly ; perhaps Falkenried would see now that such 
 a power needed liberty and life to develop, and 
 would pardon the unfortunate, boyish folly which, 
 with his views, had hurt him so deeply. 
 
 Was he not his child? his only son, whom he had 
 embraced with such passionate tenderness that 
 night at Burgsdorf ? At this remembrance a long- 
 ing for those all-powerful arms, for the home which 
 should no longer be lost to him, for the whole boy- 
 hood which, although constrained, had yet been so 
 happy, pure and guiltless, flooded Hartmut 's in- 
 most heart.
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 AT this moment the door opened and the butler 
 entered, bearing upon a waiter a card. He pre- 
 sented it to Hartmut, who refused it with an impa- 
 tient gesture. 
 
 "Did I not tell you that I did not wish to see any 
 one else to-day? I wish to remain undisturbed." 
 
 "I told the gentleman so," replied the servant, 
 "but he begged me to at least give you his name 
 Willibald von Eschenhagen." 
 
 Hartmut started suddenly from his reclining posi- 
 tion. He could not believe that he had heard 
 aright. 
 
 "What is the gentleman's name?" 
 
 "Von Eschenhagen here is the card." 
 
 "Ah, let him enter, instantly !" 
 
 The servant departed, and Willibald entered the 
 next moment, but remained standing at the door 
 in uncertainty. Hartmut had sprung up and looked 
 toward him. Yes, there were the same familiar 
 features the dear, well-known face, the honest 
 blue eyes of his friend, and with the passionate cry, 
 "Willy my dear old Willy, is it you! You come 
 to me?" he threw himself stormily upon his breast. 
 
 The young lord, who had no idea how strangely 
 his appearance at this moment fitted into his friend's 
 dreams of his youth, was most perplexed over this 
 reception. He remembered how domineering Hart- 
 mut had always been to him, and how he had made 
 him feel his mental inferiority at every opportunity. 
 
 35?
 
 254 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 He had thought yesterday that the highly honored 
 author of Arivana would be still more imperious 
 and haughty, and now he found an overflowing ten- 
 derness. 
 
 "Are you glad, then, at my coming, Hartmut?" 
 he asked, still somewhat doubtful. "I was almost 
 afraid it would not be acceptable." 
 
 "Not acceptable, when I see you now after a lapse 
 of ten long years!" cried Hartmut reproachfully, 
 and he drew his friend down beside him, question- 
 ing him and covering him so with affection that 
 Willy lost all embarrassment and also returned to 
 the old familiarity. He said that he was in town 
 for only three days and that he was on his way to 
 Furstenstein. 
 
 "Oh, yes; you are betrothed," joined in Rojanow. 
 "I heard at Rodeck who was to be the Chief For- 
 ester's son-in-law, and have also seen Fraulein von 
 Schonan. Let me congratulate you with all my 
 heart/" 
 
 Willibald accepted the good wishes with a pecu- 
 liar face, and looked to the floor as he replied, half 
 audibly : "Yes, but to tell the truth, mamma made 
 the engagement." 
 
 "I should have known that," said Hartmut, laugh- 
 ing, "but you have at least said 'Yes' without being 
 forced?" 
 
 Willy did not answer. He studied the carpet 
 intently and suddenly asked quite disconnectedly: 
 "Hartmut, how do you do when you compose 
 poetry?" 
 
 "How do I do?" Hartmut with an effort sup- 
 pressed his laughter. "Really that is not easy to 
 tell. I do not believe that I can explain it suffi- 
 ciently."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 255 
 
 "Yes, it is a funny condition to make poetry," 
 assented the young man with a sad shake of the 
 head. "I experienced it last night when I returned 
 from the theatre." 
 
 "What! You compose poetry?" 
 
 "And such poetry!" cried Willy in high satisfac- 
 tion, but added in somewhat subdued tones : "Only 
 I cannot find rhymes, and it also sounds quite dif- 
 ferent from your verses. To tell the truth, it did 
 not run right, and I want to ask you how you do the 
 affair. You know it is not to be anything grand 
 like your Arivana only just a little poem." 
 
 "Of course to 'her,' " finished Hartmut. 
 
 "Yes, to her," assented the young lord with a 
 deep breath, and now his listener laughed aloud. 
 
 "You are a model son, Willy, one must confess. 
 It does happen sometimes that one is betrothed at 
 paternal or maternal command, but you dutifully 
 fall in love with your bride-elect besides, and even 
 compose poetry to her." 
 
 "But it is not to the right one," exclaimed Willi- 
 bald suddenly, with such a strained expression that 
 Rojanow looked at him in perplexity. He really 
 believed that his friend was not in his senses; and 
 Willibald must also have felt that he was making 
 a peculiar impression. He therefore began an ex- 
 planation, but anticipated himself so much and was 
 so vague, that the affair became only the more 
 tangled. 
 
 "In fact, I have had an encounter with a fellow 
 this morning who dared to insult a young lady 
 Fraulein Marietta Volkmar, from the Court The- 
 atre. I knocked him to the ground and I would do 
 it again to him or to anybody who gets too near 
 Fraulein Volkmar,"
 
 256 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 He stretched out his arm so threateningly that 
 Hartmut caught it quickly and restrained him. 
 
 "Well, I do not intend to get near her you can 
 spare me for the present. But what is Marietta 
 Volkmar to you the little mirror of virtue of our 
 opera who has so far been considered unapproach- 
 able?" 
 
 "Hartmut, I request that you speak of this lady 
 with reverence. In short, this Count Westerburg 
 has challenged me. I am going to exchange shots 
 with him, and hope to give him a good reminder." 
 
 "Well, you really are making good progress in 
 romance," said Hartmut, who listened with ever- 
 increasing interest. "You have been here only three 
 days and have commenced with a quarrel which 
 ends in a challenge, and are the knight and pro- 
 tector of a young singer have a duel for her sake. 
 Willy, for heaven's sake, what will your mother 
 say?" 
 
 "This concerns an affair of honor, and my mother 
 cannot interfere here," declared Willy with a really 
 heroic effect, "but now I must get a second here, 
 where I am quite a stranger and do not know a soul. 
 Uncle Herbert must not hear anything about it, of 
 course, or he would interfere with the police. So 
 I decided to come to you and ask you if you would 
 render me this service." 
 
 "That was what brought you," said Rojanow, in 
 a tone of painful disappointment. "I really be- 
 lieved old friendship had done it ; but, nevertheless, 
 of course, I am at your command. What weapons 
 does the challenge demand ?" 
 
 "Pistols!" 
 
 "Well, you know what to do with them. We 
 practiced often enough with a target at Burgsdorf,
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 257 
 
 and you were a good shot. I shall look up the sec- 
 ond of your opponent to-morrow morning and send 
 you word then. I have to do that in writing, as I 
 do not enter the house of Herr von Wallmoden." 
 
 Willy only nodded. He thought Wallmoden's 
 hostility was being reciprocated, but deemed it best 
 not to make any inquiries upon this point. 
 
 "Very well, just write me," he replied. "Ar- 
 range things as seems best to you; I shall be satis- 
 fied with everything; I have no experience in such 
 things. Here is the address of the second, and now 
 I must go. I have several things to put in order 
 yet, in case the worst happens." 
 
 He arose and extended his hand to his friend in 
 farewell, but Hartmut took no notice of it. His 
 eyes were fixed on the floor, as he said in low, hesi- 
 tating tones: "One thing more, Willy. Burgsdorf 
 is so near Berlin. Perhaps you often see " 
 
 "Whom?" asked Willibald, as Hartmut paused. 
 
 "My my father." 
 
 The young lord became visibly embarrassed at 
 the question. He had avoided the mention of Falk- 
 enried during the conversation, but did not seem to 
 be aware of his near arrival. 
 
 "No," he said, finally; "we hardly ever see the 
 Colonel." 
 
 "But does he not come to Burgsdorf as of old?" 
 
 "No, he has become very unsocial. But I hap- 
 pened to see him in Berlin when I went to meet 
 Uncle Herbert." 
 
 "And how does he look? Has he aged any dur- 
 ing these last years ?" 
 
 Willibald shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Of course he has aged ; you would hardly recog- 
 nize him with his white, hair."
 
 258 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "White hair!" Hartmut burst forth. "He is 
 hardly fifty-two years old. Has he been ill ?" 
 
 "Not that I know of. It came quite suddenly 
 in a few months at the time when he asked for his 
 discharge." 
 
 Hartmut blanched, and his eyes were strained fix- 
 edly upon the speaker. 
 
 "My father sought a discharge? He who is a 
 soldier through, body and soul; to whom his voca- 
 tion In what year was it ?" 
 
 "It did not come to an issue," said Willy, pacify- 
 ingly; "they did not let him go, but removed him to 
 a distant garrison, and he has been in the Ministry 
 of War for three years." 
 
 "But he wanted to leave in what year?" panted 
 Rojanow, in a sinking voice. 
 
 "Well, at the time of your disappearance. He 
 believed his honor demanded it, and, Hartmut, you 
 ought not to have done that to your father not 
 that. He almost died from it." 
 
 Hartmut made no answer, no attempt to defend 
 himself; but his breast heaved in deep, unsteady 
 breaths. 
 
 "We will not speak of it," said Willibald, stop- 
 ping short ; "it cannot be changed now. I shall ex- 
 pect your letter to-morrow. Get everything in 
 order. Good night." 
 
 Hartmut did not seem to hear the words did 
 not notice the departure of his friend. He stood 
 there immovable, with eyes on the floor, and only 
 after Willibald had long disappeared did he 
 straighten himself slowly and draw his hand across 
 his brow. 
 
 "He wished to leave!" he murmured; "to leave 
 the army because he thought his honor de-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 250 
 
 manded it. No no, not yet. I must go to 
 Rodeck." 
 
 The honored poet, upon whose brow Fate was 
 pressing the first laurel wreath who only yesterday 
 had challenged the whole world in this victorious 
 knowledge dared not meet the eye of his father. 
 He fled into solitude.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 IN one of the quieter streets, whose modest but 
 pleasant houses were mostly surrounded by gar- 
 dens, Marietta Volkmar lived with an old lady a 
 distant relative of her grandfather who was alone, 
 but willing and glad to be protection and company 
 to the young singer. 
 
 The two ladies led a life about which the ever- 
 busy tongue of gossip could find nothing to say, and 
 were much beloved by other members of the house. 
 Fraulein Marietta, with her pleasant, happy face, 
 was an especial favorite, and when her clear voice 
 rang through the house everybody stopped to listen. 
 But the singvogelchen had grown mute in the past 
 two days, and showed pale cheeks and eyes red from 
 weeping. The people shook their heads and could 
 not understand it until they heard from old Frau- 
 lein Berger that Dr. Volkmar was sick, and his 
 granddaughter was worried about him, but could 
 not obtain leave of absence without a more forcible 
 reason. 
 
 This was, indeed, no falsehood, for the old doc- 
 tor had really been suffering for several days from 
 a severe cold, but it offered no occasion for serious 
 concern. It was only a plausible explanation of 
 Marietta's changed demeanor, which was noticed 
 even by her colleagues at the theatre. 
 
 The singer was standing at the window, gazing 
 steadily out, in her plain but cosily furnished sit- 
 
 260
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 261 
 
 ting room, having just returned from a rehearsal, 
 while Fraulein Berger sat at a little table with her 
 needlework, casting anxious glances at her protegee. 
 
 "But, dear child, do not take this affair so sorely 
 to heart," she admonished. "You will wear your- 
 self out with this anxiety and excitement. Why 
 anticipate the worst at once ?" 
 
 Marietta did not turn. She was painfully pale, 
 and a suppressed sob was in her voice as she replied : 
 
 "This is now the third day, and yet I cannot learn 
 anything. Oh, it is awful to have to wait like this, 
 hour after hour, for bad news." 
 
 "But why must it be bad news?" the old lady 
 spoke consolingly. "Herr von Eschenhagen was 
 still well and bright yesterday afternoon. I in- 
 quired about him at your special request. He went 
 to drive with Herr and Frau von Wallmoden. The 
 affair has probably been settled amicably." 
 
 "I should have heard of it," said the young girl, 
 in a heartbroken way. "He promised me, and he 
 would have kept his word, I know. If misfortune 
 has really happened to him if he has fallen I be- 
 lieve I could not live !" 
 
 The last words were spoken so passionately that 
 Fraulein Berger looked at the speaker in dismay. 
 
 "Do be reasonable, Marietta," she entreated. 
 "How are you responsible for an impertinent man 
 insulting you, or the betrothed of your friend step- 
 ping in to your rescue? You really could not act 
 more despairingly if your own betrothed stood be- 
 fore the pistol." 
 
 The cheeks, just now so pale, flushed redly, and 
 Marietta turned to the window with a quick gesture. 
 
 "You do not understand, auntie," she said, in a 
 low voice; "you do not know how much love and
 
 262 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 
 
 kindness have been shown me in the house of the 
 Chief Forester how earnestly Toni begged my 
 forgiveness when she learned how deeply her future 
 mother-in-law had offended me. What will she 
 think of me when she hears that her betrothed has 
 been in a duel for my sake? What will Frau von 
 Eschenhagen say?" 
 
 "Well, they will at least be open to the convic- 
 tion that you are quite innocent in this affair, which, 
 if it ends well, they will not hear of. I do not 
 recognize or understand you in all this. You used 
 to laugh away every care and anxiety, but this time 
 you exaggerate it in a really incomprehensible man- 
 ner. You have scarcely eaten or drunk in two 
 days in your excitement; you must not sit at my 
 table to-day as you did yesterday and the day be- 
 fore. I tell you that ; and now I will look after the 
 dinner." 
 
 The kind old lady arose and left the room to pre- 
 pare some extra dainty with which to tempt her pro- 
 tegee's fleeting appetite. 
 
 She was right ; the merry, bright Marietta would 
 not now be recognized. Beyond a doubt it gave a 
 painful, depressed feeling to be brought before the 
 people of Furstenstein in so bad a light through 
 that occurrence in the park, and even here in town 
 her name, so carefully protected, might suffer if 
 something of it should be heard ; but, strange to say, 
 these possibilities remained in the background be- 
 cause of a fear which grew with every hour and was> 
 hardly to be borne any longer. 
 
 "With my blood, if it must be." 
 
 Unconsciously she whispered Willibald's last 
 words, and pressed her hot brow against the win- 
 dow pane. "Oh, my God, not that !"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 263 
 
 Suddenly at the street corner a figure appeared, 
 which attracted attention on account of its unusual 
 size. He came nearer with rapid steps and looked 
 searchingly at the house numbers. 
 
 With a suppressed cry of joy, Marietta sprang 
 from the window. She had recognized Herr von 
 Eschenhagen. She did not wait until he pulled the 
 bell, but hastened to open the door. Tears shim- 
 mered yet in her eyes, but her voice was jubilant as 
 she cried: "You come at last! God be praised!" 
 
 "Yes, here I am, well and whole," assured Willi- 
 bald, whose face lighted up at his reception. 
 
 Neither knew how they reached the sitting room. 
 To the young man it seemed as if a small, soft hand 
 had been laid upon his arm and had drawn him 
 along, all unresisting. But when they stood before 
 each other, Marietta noticed that a broad, black 
 bandage was around his right hand. 
 
 "Mon Dieu, you are injured!" she cried in fear. 
 
 "A slight scratch not worth mentioning," Wil- 
 libald said merrily, waving the hand. "I have 
 given the Count a more severe reminder, but it is 
 also only a glance shot in the shoulder, and not in 
 the least dangerous to his precious life. That man 
 could not even shoot right." 
 
 "Then you did have the duel ? I knew it." 
 
 "This morning at 8 o'clock. But you need fear 
 nothing more, mein Fraulein. You see everything 
 has passed off well." 
 
 The young singer drew a deep breath, as if re- 
 lieved of a mountain load. 
 
 "I thank you, Herr von Eschenhagen. No no, 
 do not refuse my thanks. You have endangered 
 your life for my sake. I thank you a thousand 
 times."
 
 264 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "There is no cause, Fraulein; I did it gladly," 
 said Willibald, cordially. "But, since I have stood 
 before the pistol now for your sake, you must permit 
 me to bring you a little token of remembrance. You 
 will not throw it at my feet again?" 
 
 He somewhat awkwardly because of his left 
 hand drew out from his pocket a white tissue 
 paper, and, opening it, disclosed a full-blown rose 
 with two buds. 
 
 Marietta dropped her eyes in confusion. Mutely 
 she accepted the flowers and fastened one of them 
 at her throat. Then she stretched out her hand to 
 the giver just as mutely. 
 
 He fully understood the apology. 
 
 "Of course you are accustomed to different floral 
 offerings," he said, apologetically. "I hear a great 
 deal of the homage people pay you." 
 
 The young girl smiled, but with a more pathetic 
 than happy expression. 
 
 "You have been a witness to what this homage is 
 at times, and it was not the first time it has hap- 
 pened. The gentlemen seem to think they are per- 
 mitted to venture anything when one is on the stage. 
 Believe me, Herr von Eschenhagen, it is often hard 
 to bear this lot, for which I am envied by so many." 
 
 Willibald listened intently to these words. 
 
 "Hard to bear ? I thought you loved your voca- 
 tion above everything, and would not leave it at any 
 price." 
 
 "Oh, surely I love it ; but I had not thought that 
 so much bitterness and hardship were connected 
 with it. My teacher, Professor Marani, says : 'One 
 must rise as on eagle's wings; then all the low and 
 vulgar will remain far below.' He may be right, 
 but one must be an eagle for that, and I am only a
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 265 
 
 'singvogelchen,' as my grandfather calls me, which 
 has nothing but its voice and cannot rise so high. 
 The critics often tell me that fire and strength are 
 wanting in my rendering. I feel myself that I have 
 no real dramatic talent. I can only sing, and would 
 rather do that at home in our green forests than 
 here in this golden cage." 
 
 The voice of the usually bright, cheery girl 
 sounded full of deeply suppressed emotion. This 
 last occurrence had shown her again very plainly 
 her unprotected position, and now her heart opened 
 to the man who had interfered so bravely for her. 
 
 He listened in rapt attention and seemed to read 
 the words from her lips, but at this truly sad report 
 his face beamed as if something very joyful was 
 being related, and now he interrupted vehemently: 
 
 "You long to get away from here? You would 
 like to leave the stage?" 
 
 Marietta laughed aloud, in spite of her sorrow. 
 
 "No, I really do not think of that, for what should 
 I do then ? My grandfather saved and economized 
 for years to make my education as a singer possible, 
 and it would be poor gratitude if I should be a bur- 
 den to him in his old age. He does not know that 
 at times his little singvogel longs for its nest, or that 
 life is made hard for her here. I am not usually 
 without courage. I persevere and stand strong 
 whenever it must be so. Do not let these, my la- 
 ments, be heard at Furstenstein. You are going 
 there?" 
 
 A shadow passed over the beaming face of young 
 Eschenhagen, and he was the one now to lower his 
 eyes. 
 
 "I, indeed, go to Furstenstein this afternoon," he 
 replied, in a strangely suppressed tone.
 
 266 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Oh, I ask this one thing more. You must tell 
 your betrothed everything : you hear ? every- 
 thing. We owe it to her. I shall write her to-day 
 about the occurrence, and you will confirm my letter 
 with your words yes?" 
 
 Willibald raised his eyes slowly and looked at the 
 speaker. "You are right, Fraulein. Toni must 
 hear everything the whole truth. I had already 
 decided on that before I came here; but it will be a 
 hard hour for me." 
 
 "Oh, surely not," said Marietta, encouragingly. 
 "Toni is good and full of trust. She will believe 
 your word and my word, that we are both innocent 
 in this affair." 
 
 "But I am not without guilt at least toward my 
 bride-elect," declared Willibald, earnestly. "Do 
 not look at me in such affright. You must hear it 
 later, anyway, and it is perhaps better that I tell you 
 myself. I am going to Furstenstein only to ask 
 Toni" he stopped short and drew a deep breath 
 "to give me back my troth." 
 
 "For heaven's sake, why?" cried the young girl, 
 horrified at this explanation. 
 
 "Why? Because it would be wrong should I 
 offer Toni my hand and stand with her at the altar, 
 with my heart as it is now. Because only now do 
 I see what the principal thing is for betrothal and 
 
 marriage because " He did not finish, but 
 
 his eyes spoke so plainly that Marietta fully under- 
 stood the rest. 
 
 Her face suddenly colored crimson. She drew 
 back and made a violently repellent gesture. 
 
 "Herr von Eschenhagen, be silent; do not speak 
 another word." 
 
 "But it is not my fault," Willibald continued, in
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 267 
 
 spite of the command. "I have struggled manfully 
 and tried truly to keep my promise during the 
 whole time I was at Burgsdorf. I believed it would 
 be possible ; but then I came here and saw you again 
 in 'Arivana' on that evening, and knew that the 
 struggle had been in vain. I had not forgotten you, 
 Fraulein Marietta not for an hour as often as I 
 had tried to make myself believe it, and I shall not 
 forget you all my life long. I shall confess this to 
 Toni openly, and shall also tell my mother when I 
 return to her." 
 
 The confession was made. The young lord, who 
 could not manage the first proposal at Furstenstein 
 alone, but had to be helped by his mother, now 
 spoke as warmly and heartily as openly and as 
 truly as a man must speak in such an hour. He 
 had learned it suddenly, and with the helplessness 
 which he shook off with such decision, there seemed 
 to fall off, too, all his awkwardness and ridiculous 
 manner. 
 
 He quickly approached Marietta, who had fled to 
 the window, and his firm voice grew unsteady as he 
 continued : "And now one question. You looked so 
 pale when you opened the door for me, and your 
 eyes spoke of tears. The affair may have been pain- 
 ful and mortifying to you; I can understand that, 
 but did you also fear a little for my welfare?" 
 
 No answer, but low sobs. 
 
 "Did you fear for me ? Only a little 'yes,' Mari- 
 etta. You have no idea how happy you would 
 make me." 
 
 He bent low over the young girl, who now slowly 
 raised the small, bowed head. In her dark eyes 
 there glowed a spark as of secret happiness. The 
 answer was ajrnost inaudible.
 
 268 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "I? Ach, I have almost died of fear these last 
 two days." 
 
 Willibald gave a joyful exclamation and drew 
 her to his breast; but only for a moment, then she 
 struggled from his embrace. 
 
 "No not now. Go now, please." 
 
 He released her at once and stepped back. 
 
 "You are right, Marietta; not yet. But, after I 
 have freed myself, I shall come again and ask for 
 another 'yes.' Farewell." 
 
 He hastened away before Marietta had scarce re- 
 covered control of herself. She was aroused by the 
 voice of Fraulein Berger, who, unnoticed by the 
 two, had stood upon the threshold of the adjoining 
 room for several moments, and who now ap- 
 proached in a state of horror. 
 
 "Child, for mercy's sake, what does it mean? 
 Do you not consider " 
 
 The young girl did not let her finish, but threw 
 both arms around her neck and wept passionately. 
 
 "Ah, now I know why I was so enraged at the 
 time he suffered his mother to insult me. It hurt 
 me so inexpressibly to believe him a coward ; I have 
 loved him from the first."
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 IN the house of the Prussian Ambassador every- 
 thing was in a state of preparation for the winter 
 festivities. When Wallmoden had entered his 
 present position, in the spring, society was already 
 scattered in all directions for the summer, and im- 
 mediately afterward occurred the sad event which 
 had put an end to all festivities for them. These 
 causes, however, were done with now. 
 
 The many halls and apartments of the Ambas- 
 sador's palace had been furnished with such splen- 
 dor as Herbert's circumstances, made brilliant by 
 his marriage, permitted ; and it was his intention to 
 have as magnificent a home as was possible to ob- 
 tain. Their first grand reception was to take place 
 next week, and in the meantime numerous calls were 
 being made and returned. 
 
 The Ambassador was also much occupied with 
 his official duties, and, besides, there was one thing 
 which ruined his peace of mind completely the suc- 
 cess of Arivana. If he had had doubts before about 
 opposing Rojanow's publicity, it had now become 
 quite impossible. The "adventurer" was raised 
 upon the shield and his poetical spirit was being 
 praised everywhere. The Court and society gener- 
 ally could not be forced now to drop him without 
 subjecting themselves to mortification, and it was 
 questionable, besides, if they would drop him at all, 
 since only hints and vague remarks could be given.
 
 270 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 That grand success had made Hartmut almost un- 
 approachable. 
 
 To add to the embarrassment of the Ambassa- 
 dor's position, Falkenried's arrival was expected in 
 the near future, from whom the truth could not be 
 kept, for fear he should hear it from outsiders. 
 
 The Colonel, of whose present trip nothing was 
 known when Wallmoden had seen him in Berlin a 
 short time ago, would be here in a few days and 
 would make his headquarters at the Ambassador's 
 palace, since he was no stranger to Adelaide. She 
 and her brother had, in a measure, grown up under 
 his eyes. 
 
 When, ten years ago, the then Major Falkenried 
 had been removed to the distant province, he had 
 been stationed at a post in the small town lying in 
 the immediate vicinity of the great Stahlberg works 
 and dependent almost entirely upon them. The 
 new Major was considered an excellent soldier, but 
 a pronounced man-hater, who enjoyed his duties 
 only, occupying all his spare time with military 
 studies, and who hated everything that came under 
 the head of society. 
 
 As he was alone, he was excused from keeping an 
 open house, and he exhibited himself only at houses 
 where his position imperatively demanded it. Such 
 consideration had to be shown the great manufac- 
 turer, who was the leader of the whole vicinity, and 
 who received and entertained as guests the first and 
 highest personages. 
 
 Stahlberg had been the only one whom the mili- 
 tary man approached. Although the grave and 
 gloomy reticence of the Major excluded real friend- 
 ship, yet the two men felt the highest esteem for 
 each other, and the. Stahlberg home was the only
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 271 
 
 place where Falkenried appeared occasionally of his 
 own free will. 
 
 He had had intercourse there for years and seen 
 the two children grow up. Therefore Wallmoden 
 was the more offended that Falkenried did not at- 
 tend his wedding, but excused himself through pres- 
 sure of official duties. 
 
 Adelaide knew little or nothing about the life of 
 the Colonel. She considered him childless and 
 heard only from her husband that he had been mar- 
 ried early in life, but had been separated from his 
 wife and was now a widower. 
 
 It was about a week after the return of the Wall- 
 modens that Falkenried's arrival was announced to 
 the young wife as she sat one day at her writing 
 table. She threw aside her pen, arose quickly and 
 hastened to her friend. 
 
 "You are heartily welcome, Colonel Falkenried. 
 We received your telegram, and Herbert intended 
 to meet you at the depot, but just at this hour he has 
 an audience with the Duke, and is still at the palace, 
 so we could only send the carriage." 
 
 Her greeting had all the cordiality which an old 
 friend of her father's could wish, but Falkenried's 
 response was not of a like kind. Coldly and seri- 
 ously he accepted the offered hand and the invita- 
 tion to be seated, as he thanked her for her welcome. 
 
 The Colonel had indeed changed, so much as 
 scarcely to be recognized. Were it not for the tall, 
 muscular form and strong, firm carriage, one could 
 have taken him for an old man. His hair the hair 
 of a man barely fifty years old was white as snow, 
 the brow furrowed deeply, and sharp lines were 
 buried in the face, making it look ten years older. 
 The features, once so expressive, appeared fixed and
 
 272 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 
 
 immovable now; the entire appearance and bearing 
 bespoke stern, impenetrable reticence. 
 
 Regine's words, "The man is turned to stone," 
 were only too true. One involuntarily gained the 
 impression that he had become a total stranger to 
 the world, and that all mankind had died off for 
 aught that moved him nothing was left except the 
 duties of his vocation. 
 
 "Perhaps I have disturbed you, Ada," he said, 
 using her old home name as he glanced at the writ- 
 ing table where lay a half-finished letter. 
 
 "There is plenty of time for that," replied the 
 young wife, lightly. "I was only writing to 
 Eugene." 
 
 "Ah ? I am the bearer of love from your brother. 
 I saw him the day before yesterday." 
 
 "I knew that he intended going to Berlin and to 
 see you. He has not seen you for nearly two years 
 now, and I, too, saw but little of you during our 
 journey through Berlin. We hoped you would 
 come to Burgsdorf, where we stayed for a few days, 
 and I believe that Regine felt very hurt that you did 
 not accept her invitation for this time, either." 
 
 The Colonel looked to the floor ; he knew why he 
 avoided Burgsdorf and its reminiscences. He had 
 hardly been there twice since his return to the 
 Capital. 
 
 "Regine knows how economical I have to be with 
 my time," he replied, evasively. "But, to return to 
 your brother, Ada; I should like to speak to you, 
 and therefore I am glad to find you alone. What is 
 the difficulty between Eugene and his brother- 
 in-law? Has something happened to alienate 
 them?" 
 
 A certain embarrassment was visible in Ade-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 273 
 
 laide's face at the question, but she answered 
 lightly : 
 
 "Nothing especial; the two are not very con- 
 genial." 
 
 "Not very congenial? Wallmoden is nearly 
 forty years his senior, and his guardian besides. 
 Your brother will not be of age for several years. 
 In such case the younger one must submit uncon- 
 ditionally." 
 
 "Certainly; but Eugene, although as good as 
 gold, is only too often rash and passionate as he has 
 always been." 
 
 "Alas, so he is. He will have to change consid- 
 erably if he wishes to fill, half as well as his father 
 did, the important and responsible position which 
 awaits him. But something else seems to be the 
 trouble here. I made a casual remark about your 
 marriage, Ada which event, to tell the truth, sur- 
 prised me, although I am on friendly terms with 
 your husband and said that I had not thought you 
 had so much ambition ; but at this Eugene burst out 
 and defended you in the most passionate manner, 
 and spoke of a sacrifice which his sister had made 
 for him. In short, he allowed himself to be carried 
 away into words and hints which surprised me in 
 the highest degree." 
 
 "You should not have paid any attention to it," 
 said Adelaide, with visible emotion. "A young, 
 hot head takes everything tragically. What did he 
 tell you?" 
 
 "In fact, nothing definite. He seems to have 
 given you his word to keep silent and not speak 
 without your permission ; but he seems to almost 
 hate his brother-in-law. What does all this 
 mean?"
 
 274 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 The young wife was silent; the conversation 
 seemed painful to her in the highest degree. 
 
 Falkenried looked at her searchingly as he con- 
 tinued : "You know it is not my way to inquire into 
 the secrets of others. I take but little interest in 
 the doings of people around me, but my friend's 
 honor comes into consideration here ; those remarks 
 contain a crimination. Of course, I could not allow 
 that, but when I remonstrated with your brother 
 and threatened to speak to Wallmoden about it, he 
 said: 'My Herr brother-in-law will explain the 
 affair diplomatically to you. He has proved a very 
 diplomat in it all. Ask Ada if you wish to learn 
 the truth/ I ask you first, therefore; but if you 
 cannot and will not answer, then I must speak to 
 your husband, from whom I cannot keep such re- 
 marks." 
 
 He spoke in a cold and measured tone, without 
 any excitement. The affair, apparently, caused him 
 no interest whatever. He considered it necessary 
 to take it up solely because a point of honor came 
 in question. 
 
 "Do not speak to Herbert about it, I beg of you," 
 interrupted Adelaide, quickly. "I shall have to ex- 
 plain to you, since Eugene allowed himself to be 
 carried away so far ; but he has taken the matter too 
 hard from the beginning. There is nothing dis- 
 honorable about it." 
 
 "I hope so, since Wallmoden is concerned," said 
 the Colonel, with emphasis.
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 THE young Baroness lowered her voice and 
 evaded the eyes of her listener as she commenced. 
 
 "You know that my engagement happened a year 
 ago at Florence. My father was even then very 
 ailing, and the physicians desired that he should re- 
 main in Italy during the winter. We went to Flor- 
 ence, intending to stay two months, and then make 
 further plans according to the wish of the invalid. 
 My brother had accompanied us, but was to return 
 home at the beginning of winter. 
 
 We took a villa outside the city, and, of course, 
 lived quite secluded. Eugene saw Italy for the first 
 time, and it was so mournful for him to sit day after 
 day in the lonely sick room, that I seconded his re- 
 quest to go to Rome for a short time. He finally 
 received permission. Oh, if I had never done it! 
 But I could not know how deeply his inexperience 
 would involve him then." 
 
 "That means that he followed up adventures, al- 
 though his father was at death's door." 
 
 "Do not . judge so harshly. My brother was 
 scarcely twenty years old then, and had always lived 
 under the eyes of a loving but very strict father. 
 The short freedom proved dangerous to him. The 
 young German, who had no knowledge of the world 
 whatever, was enticed into circles where high and 
 as it was afterward proved false gambling was the 
 order of the day, and where a number of bad, but 
 
 275
 
 276 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 outwardly charming, elements met. Eugene, in his 
 ignorance, did not understand it, and lost heavily, 
 until suddenly the party was raided by the police. 
 The Italians defended themselves, and it ended in a 
 fight, into which Eugene, too, was drawn. He only 
 defended himself, but he had the misfortune to in- 
 jure a policeman severely, and was arrested with 
 the others." 
 
 The Colonel had listened silently, with impassive 
 face, and his voice was as harsh as before as he said : 
 "And Stahlberg had to live to see this of his son, 
 who had been a model until then ?" 
 
 "He never heard of it ; it was only a momentary 
 losing of one's self a case of one misled, rather 
 than guilty, and it will not happen again. Eugene 
 has given me his word of honor for that." 
 
 Falkenried laughed so scornfully that his com- 
 panion looked at him in consternation. 
 
 "His word of honor! Yes, why not? That is 
 given as easily as it is broken. Are you truly so 
 trusting as to believe in the word of such a young 
 lad?" 
 
 "Yes, that I am," asserted Adelaide, in an injured 
 tone, while her eyes, earnest and reproachful, met 
 the gaze of the man whose awful bitterness she 
 could not explain. "I know my brother. In spite 
 of this escapade, he is the son of his father, and he 
 will keep his word to me and to himself I 
 know it." 
 
 "It is well for you if you can still believe and 
 trust. I have long forgotten how," said Falken- 
 ried, in a low but milder tone. "And what hap- 
 pened then?" 
 
 "My brother succeeded in being allowed to send 
 rne word immediately. 'Keep it from father, it
 
 THE SIGX OF FLAM& 
 
 would be his death,' he wrote. I knew better than 
 he did that our desperately ill father could not stand 
 such news. But we were alone in a foreign coun- 
 try, without friends or acquaintances, and help had 
 to be had instantly. In this extremity I thought of 
 Herr von Wallmoden, who at the time was at the 
 embassy at Florence. We had known him slightly 
 before, and he had called directly after our arrival 
 and placed himself at our command, should we need 
 the help of the Ambassador. He had come to our 
 house frequently, and now hastened to me imme- 
 diately upon receiving my request. I told him all, 
 and trusted him, beseeching his advice and help 
 and received it." 
 
 "At what price?" demanded the Colonel, with 
 darkly contracted brows. 
 
 Adelaide shook her head. 
 
 "No, no ; it is not 'as you think as Eugene also 
 believed. I was not forced. Herbert gave me free 
 choice, although he did not hide from me that the 
 occurrence was much worse than I feared; that 
 those sums lost in play must, nevertheless, be paid 
 if one wished to keep the affair from publicity; that, 
 in spite of all, it might get into the courts, on ac- 
 count of the injury to the policeman. He explained 
 to me that he might be brought into a wrong light 
 if he mixed himself up in such affairs. 'You desire 
 me to save your brother/ said he ; 'perhaps I can do 
 it, but I jeopardize my position my whole future 
 thereby. One makes such a sacrifice, perhaps, only 
 for his own brother, or his brother-in-law.' ' 
 
 Falkenried arose suddenly and took a turn 
 through the room. Then he stood still before the 
 young wife and said, in angry tones : "And you, of 
 course, believed that in your anxiety?"
 
 278 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 ''Do you mean that it was not so?" asked Ade- 
 laide, startled. 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders with a half-contemp- 
 tuous expression. 
 
 "Possibly. I do not know these diplomatic rea- 
 sons. I know only one thing; Wallmoden has, in- 
 deed, proved himself a great diplomat in the whole 
 affair. What did you answer him ?" 
 
 "I asked for time to think, everything had burst 
 so upon me. But I knew, that no moment was to be 
 lost, and that same evening I gave Herbert the right 
 to act for his brother-in-law." 
 
 "Of course," muttered the Colonel, with deep dis- 
 dain; "the wise, shrewd Herbert!" 
 
 "He obtained leave of absence immediately, and 
 went to Rome," continued the young Baroness, "re- 
 turning in a week, accompanied by my brother. He 
 had succeeded in freeing Eugene and withdrawing 
 him from the whole affair. Even the newspapers 
 did not mention the name of the young German who 
 had been involved in it. I do not know by what 
 means it was done. If one has powerful friends 
 and does not need to spare money, much is possible. 
 Herbert had spent money lavishly on all sides and 
 had brought into use every advantage made pos- 
 sible to him through his long years of diplomatic 
 work. He also cancelled the gambling debts, al- 
 though with his own bond. He told me later that 
 he had given half his fortune for that purpose." 
 
 "It was very magnanimous, since by this sacrifice 
 he won a cool million. And what did Eugene say 
 to this trade?" 
 
 "He knew nothing of it, and soon returned to 
 Germany, as had been decided at first. From that 
 time Herbert came to our house daily and knew how
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 279 
 
 to prepossess my sick father so well, that father 
 finally felt a desire for the union himself. Only 
 then did Herbert begin his wooing. I was grateful 
 to him for giving it this turn, only Eugene was not 
 deceived. He guessed everything, and forced the 
 truth from me. Since then he has tortured himself 
 with self-reproach and almost feels hostility toward 
 his brother-in-law, in spite of my repeated assur- 
 ance that I have never had cause to rue that step, 
 and that I have in Herbert the most attentive and 
 considerate husband." 
 
 Falkenried's eyes rested intently upon the face of 
 the young wife, as if he wished to read her most 
 secret thoughts. 
 
 "Are you happy ?" he asked, slowly. 
 
 "I am content." 
 
 "That is much in this life," said the Colonel in 
 the old, harsh tone. "We were not born to be 
 happy. I have done you wrong, Ada. I believed 
 the splendor of a high position, the desire to play a 
 first role in society as wife of the Ambassador, had 
 made you Frau von Wallmoden, but I am glad 
 that t judged you wrongly." 
 
 He stretched forth his hand. Some expression 
 was now in the icy gaze and an apology in the grasp 
 of the hand. 
 
 "You know everything now," concluded Ade- 
 laide, with a deep breath, "and I beg that you will 
 not touch upon the subject before Herbert. You 
 see, there was nothing dishonorable in his dealings. 
 I repeat to you that he used neither force nor per- 
 suasion. I was forced only by the power of cir- 
 cumstances. I could not expect that he would 
 make such sacrifices for a stranger." 
 
 "If a lady had sought me in such anxiety, I would
 
 280 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 have made the sacrifices unconditionally," declared 
 Falkenried. 
 
 "Yes, you ! I would have followed you also with 
 a lighter heart." 
 
 The avowal betrayed, unconsciously, how hard 
 had been the struggle which the young wife had not 
 mentioned by a word. But she spoke the truth. 
 
 She would much rather have given herself to the 
 gloomy, reticent man, with his harsh and often 
 offensive manner, if the sacrifice had to be made, 
 than to the ever polite and attentive husband, who, 
 in the face of her extremity had traded with it. 
 
 "You would have had a hard lot then, Ada," said 
 the Colonel, with a grave shake of the head. "I 
 am one of the men who cannot give or receive any- 
 thing more in this life. I have finished with it long 
 ago. But you are right ; it is better to let that sub- 
 ject remain untouched between Wallmoden and me, 
 for if I wished to tell him my true opinion about it 
 well, he will always be a diplomat." 
 
 Adelaide arose, breaking off the conversation, and 
 tried to assume a lighter tone. 
 
 "And now let me take you to your rooms at last. 
 You must be exhausted by the long trip." 
 
 "No, a single night's journey will not tire a sol- 
 dier. Duty makes harsher demands than that 
 on us." 
 
 He drew himself up straight and firm ; one could 
 see that his physical strength was yet unbroken. 
 Those muscles and sinews seemed like steel. It was 
 the features alone that bore the mark of age. 
 
 The eyes of the Baroness lingered upon them 
 thoughtfully, especially upon the brow which was 
 so deeply and heavily furrowed and yet was formed 
 so high and powerful under the white hair.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 281 
 
 It seemed to her as if she had seen that brow 
 somewhere else, under dark locks; but there could 
 not be a sharper contrast than between this too early 
 aged, care-lined face and that youthful head with 
 the foreign, southern beauty and the uncanny light 
 in the eyes. Yet it had been the same brow over 
 which the lightnings had flamed on that lonely for- 
 est height ; the same high, powerful curve ; even the 
 blue veins which were so pronounced at the tem- 
 ples a strange, incomprehensible likeness!
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 AFTER some hours the two friends were alone 
 together in Wallmoden's study. The latter had 
 just made the unavoidable as well as painful dis- 
 closure. He had told the Colonel under what cir- 
 cumstances Rojanow was in the city, and had un- 
 veiled to him uncompromisingly everything he 
 knew of Hartmut's life and that of his mother, 
 finally informing him of her death. 
 
 He had feared this hour, but the result was quite 
 different from what he had expected. Mutely 
 Falkenried leaned against the window with folded 
 arms and listened to the long explanations, without 
 interrupting by a word or gesture. His face re- 
 mained cold and impassive; no quiver, no motion 
 betrayed that he heard those things which must 
 bring anguish to his heart. He was now also "a 
 man of stone." 
 
 "I believed I owed these explanations to you," 
 concluded the Ambassador finally. "If I have kept 
 what I knew of the fate of -the two from you so long, 
 it was done solely that you might not be tortured 
 unnecessarily with what was hard enough for you 
 to overcome. But you had to learn now what has 
 happened, and how matters stand at present." 
 
 The Colonel retained his position and his voice 
 betrayed no mental excitement as he replied : 
 
 "I thank you for your good will, but you could 
 have spared yourself these explanations. What is 
 that adventurer to me?" 
 
 282
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 283 
 
 Wallmoden looked up amazed; he had not ex- 
 pected such a response. 
 
 "I thought it necessary to prepare you for the 
 possibility of meeting him," he returned. "As you 
 have heard, Rojanow now plays an important role; 
 he is celebrated everywhere. The Duke is deeply 
 wrapped up in him. You might meet him at the 
 castle." 
 
 "And what then? I do not know anybody by 
 the name of Rojanow, and he will not dare to know 
 me. We should pass each other as strangers." 
 
 The Ambassador's gaze rested searchingly upon 
 Falkenried's features as if to fathom this real cold- 
 ness or incomprehensible self-command. 
 
 "I thought you would receive the news of the 
 reappearance of your son very differently," he said, 
 half aloud. 
 
 For the first time he intentionally used this title ; 
 hitherto he had merely said Rojanow. But now, 
 for the first time also, an emotion was visible in the 
 calm figure at the window. But it was an emotion 
 of anger. 
 
 "I have no son remember that, Wallmoden. 
 He died to me that night at Burgsdorf, and the dead 
 do not rise." 
 
 Wallmoden was silent; the Colonel approached 
 him and laid his hand heavily upon his arm. 
 
 "You said just now that it was your duty to en- 
 lighten the Duke, and that you had not done so 
 solely out of consideration for me. I have, indeed, 
 but one thing to guard in the world the honor of 
 my name which, through that exposition, would 
 be at the mercy of the world's raillery and scorn. 
 Do what you think you must do I shall not hinder 
 you. But I shall also do what I have to do."
 
 284 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 His voice sounded as cold as before, but it con- 
 tained something so awful that the Ambassador 
 started up in affright. 
 
 "Falkenried, for heaven's sake, what do you 
 mean? How am I to interpret those words?" 
 
 "As you like. You diplomats define honor dif- 
 ferently at times from us. I am very one-sided 
 about it." 
 
 "I shall keep silence inviolably, I pledge you my 
 word," assured Wallmoden, who did not under- 
 stand the last bitter hint, for he had no idea of Ade- 
 laide's confession. "I had decided on that before 
 you came; the name of Falkenried shall not be sac- 
 rificed by me." 
 
 "Enough, and now no more of it. You have 
 prepared the Duke for what I bring?" asked Falk- 
 enried, passing on to an entirely different subject 
 after a short pause. "What has he to say to it ?" 
 
 Here again was the old iron, unbending will, 
 which put aside all questioning; but the sudden 
 change seemed to be acceptable to the Ambassador. 
 He was, here as well as elsewhere, the wise diplomat 
 who dreaded nothing so much as public exposure, 
 and who would never have thought of exposing 
 Hartmut, had he not feared that by a possible leak- 
 ing out of the truth later and of his knowledge of it, 
 it might be counted against him. Now, in the worst 
 case, he could cover himself with the promise he had 
 given the father. Even the Duke must acknowl- 
 edge that he Wallmoden had had to spare his 
 friend. The shrewd Herbert knew how to calcu- 
 late here, too. 
 
 The stay of Colonel Falkenried was only of short 
 duration, and during the time he had no rest. 
 Audience with the Duke conferences with high
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 285 
 
 military dignitaries, communications with his own 
 embassy all were crowded within a few days. 
 
 Wallmoden was hardly less occupied, until finally 
 everything was settled. The Ambassador, and 
 especially Colonel Falkenried, had reason to be sat- 
 isfied with the results, for everything had been suc- 
 cessful that was expected and desired by their gov- 
 ernment, and they could be sure of the highest ap- 
 preciation at home. 
 
 Only the most nearly connected circles knew that 
 something important was going on, and even in 
 these circles only a few knew the full importance 
 of the conferences. Scarcely anything was noticed 
 in public, which, therefore, occupied itself only the 
 more with its present favorite, the poet of Ari- 
 vana, whose incomprehensible behavior made him 
 so much more interesting in the Residenz. 
 
 Almost immediately after that brilliant triumph 
 of his work he had withdrawn from all praise and 
 homage, and had gone into "forest solitude," as 
 Prince Adelsberg laughingly informed all question- 
 ers. Where this solitude was, nobody learned. 
 Egon assured them that he had given his word not 
 to betray the place of his friend's seclusion, for he 
 needed rest after all his excitement, but would re- 
 turn in a few days. Nobody knew that Hartmut 
 was at Rodeck. 
 
 Within the week, one cold winter morning, the 
 carriage of Herr von Wallmoden stood at his palace 
 door. It seemed to be preparing for a long excur- 
 sion, for servants were carrying furs and travelling 
 rugs to it, while upstairs in the room where they 
 had just breakfasted, the Ambassador was taking 
 leave of Colonel Falkenried.
 
 286 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Until to-morrow evening, auf iviedersehen," he 
 was saying as he shook hands. "We sfcall be back 
 by that time without fail, and you will surely remain 
 a few days longer?" 
 
 "Yes, since the Duke wishes it so particularly," 
 answered the Colonel. "I have so reported it to 
 Berlin, and my report left on the same train that 
 carried yours." 
 
 "Yes, I believe they will be satisfied with these 
 reports; but it has been a hot time. We had no 
 rest all those days. Now, fortunately, everything 
 is arranged, and I can afford to absent myself for 
 twenty-four hours to drive to Ostwalden with Ade- 
 laide." 
 
 "Ostwalden is the name of your new country 
 home? I remember that you spoke of it yesterday. 
 Where is it situated ?" 
 
 "About two miles from Furstenstein. Schonan 
 drew my attention to it while we were with him 
 and I looked at the place at that time. It is rather 
 an extensive possession in the famous Wald, beau- 
 tifully situated, but the price was too high at first, 
 which has delayed the settlement. We have but 
 now come to a final understanding." 
 
 "I believe Ada is not quite satisfied with your 
 selection. She seems to have something against 
 the vicinity of Furstenstein," interrupted Falken- 
 ried, but the Ambassador only shrugged his shoul- 
 ders carelessly. 
 
 "A caprice, nothing more. At first Adelaide was 
 quite delighted with Ostwalden, but later she raised 
 all sorts of objections but I cannot pay any atten- 
 tion to that. I shall probably remain there for con- 
 siderable periods, as I no longer like to travel far in 
 ithe summer. A country seat which is only four
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 287 
 
 Hours removed from town is therefore of great value 
 to me. The castle itself is in rather a dilapidated 
 condition at present, but something can be made of 
 it. With appropriate changes and additions it can 
 be made a really superb residence, and I intend 
 doing that. I shall therefore look it over carefully, 
 so that the plans can be finished as soon as pos- 
 sible. I have not been there as yet since I bought it." 
 
 He made his statements with much evident satis- 
 faction over his plans. Herbert von Wallmoden, 
 who had originally possessed only a limited fortune, 
 and was compelled to expend it with great care, 
 had suddenly found it necessary to buy a sumptuous 
 place in town, where he lived only temporarily, and 
 to have a princely villa for his summer residence. 
 But he did not find it necessary to consider the 
 wishes of his wife, whose wealth made it possible to 
 him to play the great land-owner. 
 
 Falkenried may have had such ideas while listen- 
 ing, but he did not speak of them. He had turned 
 graver and stonier, if possible, in the last few days, 
 and if he really asked a question or made a remark 
 during the conversation, one could see it was but 
 mechanical, and because he had to say something. 
 
 Only when Adelaide entered, perfectly equipped 
 for the journey, he arose promptly and offered his 
 arm to lead her to the carriage. He lifted her in, 
 and Wallmoden, who followed her, leaned once more 
 from the carriage door. "We shall assuredly re- 
 turn to-morrow. Au revoir." 
 
 Falkenried bowed and stepped back ; It was in- 
 different to him whether he saw the "friend of his 
 youth again. v This, too, had lost its interest; but 
 when he ascended the steps, he murmured half 
 aloud ; "Poor A,da, she deserved a better fate !"
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 IN the meanwhile everything pursued its usual 
 course at Furstenstein. Willibald had been there a 
 week. He had arrived two days later than had been 
 expected, but the injury to his hand was the cause of 
 that. According to his explanation it had hap- 
 pened through his own carelessness, and the hand 
 was already rapidly getting well. 
 
 The Chief Forester found that his future son-in- 
 law had changed much for the better during the 
 short intervening time of his absence, and that he 
 had become much more earnest and decided ; and he 
 remarked to his daughter with the highest satisfac- 
 tion: "I believe that Willy is only now commenc- 
 ing to be human. One notices directly when his 
 lady mamma is not standing commandingly at his 
 side. 
 
 But Herr von Schonan did not have much time 
 at his disposal to notice the engaged couple, as he 
 was at present overwhelmed with official duties. 
 The Duke had ordered several changes in the forest 
 government to be made according to the suggestions 
 of the Chief Forester, who was now zealously occu- 
 pied in executing all of them. 
 
 He saw and heard daily that Antonie and Willy 
 were on the best terms, so he left them mostly to 
 themselves. 
 
 Meanwhile in the house of the doctor at Wald- 
 hofen care and anxiety had made their appearance. 
 
 288
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 289 
 
 The sickness of the doctor, which at first had given 
 no cause for fear, suddenly took a dangerous turn, 
 which was augmented greatly by the age of the pa- 
 tient. He had called persistently for his grand- 
 daughter, and she had been telegraphed for. She 
 had at once obtained leave of absence her role in 
 Arivana was filled by another and she hastened 
 without delay to Waldhofen. 
 
 Antonie showed a touching fidelity to her friend 
 at this time. Day after day found her at the home 
 of the Volkmars to console and cheer Marietta, who 
 clung to her grandfather with her whole soul. 
 
 Willibald seemed to be likewise necessary at these 
 consolations, for he accompanied Toni regularly, 
 and the Chief Forester thought it quite natural that 
 "the poor little thing" was being consoled and 
 helped to the best of their ability, more especially 
 as she had suffered so unmerited an insult in his 
 house, for which he could not to this day forgive 
 his sister-in-law. 
 
 Finally, after three long, sorrowful days and 
 nights, the doctor's strong constitution conquered; 
 the danger was passed, and hopes of a full recovery 
 were entertained. 
 
 Herr von Schonan, who was cordially attached 
 to the doctor, was heartily glad of it, and so every- 
 thing seemed to have come into the best of order. 
 
 But threatening weather arose from the north. 
 Without a word of warning Frau von Eschenhagen 
 suddenly appeared at Furstenstein. She had not 
 taken time to stop in town where her brother lived, 
 but came directly from Burgsdorf, and burst like a 
 hurricane upon her brother-in-law, who sat in his 
 room very comfortably reading the paper. 
 
 "All good spirits is it you, Regine?" he cried,
 
 290 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 amazed. "This is what I call a surprise; you ought 
 to have sent us word." 
 
 "Where is Willibald?" demanded Regine in a 
 dangerous tone, by way of answer. "Is he at Fur- 
 stenstein ?" 
 
 "Of course, where else should he be ? I believe he 
 has announced his arrival here to you." 
 
 "Let him be called immediately." 
 
 "But what is the matter?" asked Schonan, notic- 
 ing now for the first time his sister-in-law's excite- 
 ment. "Is there a fire at Burgsdorf, or what? I 
 cannot call Willy to you this moment, for he is at 
 AValdhofen " 
 
 "Probably at Dr. Volkmar's and she is probably 
 there, too." 
 
 "Who is 'she'? Toni has, of course, gone with 
 him. They visit that poor little thing daily Mari- 
 etta who was quite despairing at first. I must 
 speak a word with you on this point, Regine. How 
 could you offend the dear girl so deeply, and in my 
 house besides? I only heard of it afterward, 
 or " 
 
 A loud, angry laugh interrupted him. Frau von 
 Eschenhagen had .thrown hat and cloak upon a 
 chair and now drew close to her brother-in-law. 
 
 "Are you to reproach me because I tried to avert 
 the evil which you have brought upon yourself? 
 Of course you have always been blind and would 
 never listen to my warnings now it is too late." 
 
 "I believe you are not in your right mind, Re- 
 gine," said the Forester, who really did not know 
 what to think of it all. "Will you be so kind as to 
 tell me what you mean?" 
 
 Regine drew forth a newspaper and handed it to 
 him, pointing with her finger to a paragraph.
 
 THE SIGff OF FLAME. 291 
 
 "Read!" 
 
 Schonan obeyed, and now his face also grew red 
 in angry surprise. The article, which was dated 
 from the South German Residenz, read as follows: 
 
 "We have just learned that a duel with pistols 
 took place last Monday, very early in the morning, 
 in a remote part of our park. The opponents were 
 a well-known resident, Count W , and a young 
 North German landowner, W v. E , who is 
 visiting his relative here a high and distinguished 
 diplomat. The cause of the duel is reported to be a 
 member of our Court Theatre, a young singer who 
 bears the best of reputations. Count W was in- 
 jured in the shoulder. Herr v. E carried off a 
 slight wound in the hand, and departed immedi- 
 ately." 
 
 "Thunder and lightning!" burst forth the Chief 
 Forester, violently. "The betrothed of my Toni 
 has a duel for Marietta's sake ! So this is the cause 
 of the injured hand which he brought with him! 
 This is charming, indeed ! What else do you know 
 about it, Regine? My paper did not notice it." 
 
 "But mine did; it was copied from one of your 
 papers, as you see. I read it yesterday and has- 
 tened here at once. I did not even stop to see Her- 
 bert, who cannot have known anything about it, or 
 he would have notified me." 
 
 "Herbert will be here at noon," said Schonan, 
 throwing the paper angrily upon the table. "He is 
 at Ostwalden with Adelaide, and has written that 
 he will return by Furstenstein and stop over a few 
 hours. Perhaps he is coming on this account, but 
 that does not change anything in the matter. Has 
 that boy that Willibald gone crazy?"
 
 292 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Yes, that he has," assented Frau von Eschen- 
 hagen in like anger. "You made fun of me, Moritz, 
 when I exhorted you not to let your child associate 
 with an actress. Indeed, I had no idea that matters 
 could take such a turn until the moment I discov- 
 ered that Willy that my son was in love with 
 Marietta Volkmar. I snatched him instantly from 
 the danger and returned to Burgsdorf. This was 
 the reason of our sudden departure, which I kept 
 from you, because I considered Willy's condition 
 as a passing fancy. The boy seemed to have re- 
 turned .to his senses completely. I would not other- 
 wise have permitted him this journey; and to be 
 surer still, I placed him under the protection of my 
 brother. He cannot have been more than three or 
 four days in town, and now we must live to see 
 this!" 
 
 Quite exhausted, she threw herself into an arm- 
 chair. The Chief Forester began to stride about the 
 room vehemently. "And this is not the worst yet," 
 he cried. "The worst is the farce which the boy is 
 playing with his betrothed here. My child goes to 
 Waldhofen day after day, consoling and helping 
 wherever she can, and the Herr Willy always runs 
 along, and uses the opportunity as a rendezvous. 
 That is too outrageous ! You have raised something 
 nice in that son, Regine." 
 
 "Do you think I make excuses for him?" de- 
 manded Regine. "He shall answer to us both I 
 have come for that. He shall learn to know me." 
 
 She lifted her hand as if making a vow, and 
 Schonan, who was still racing through the room, 
 repeated angrily : "Yes, he shall learn to know us." 
 
 Then and there the door opened, and the betrayed 
 bride-elect entered into this wild excitement calm
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 293 
 
 and serene as usual, and saying in the most inno- 
 cent way: "I have just heard of your arrival, dear 
 aunt; you are very welcome." 
 
 She received no answer, but from both sides in- 
 stead sounded the question : "Where is Willibald?" 
 
 "He will be here directly; he has gone to the 
 castle gardener for a few moments, as he did not 
 know of his mother's arrival." 
 
 "To the gardener! Perhaps to get roses as be- 
 fore," burst forth Frau von Eschenhagen; but the 
 Chief Forester opened his arms and cried in pathetic 
 tones : 
 
 "My child! my poor betrayed child! Come to 
 me come into your father's arms." 
 
 He attempted to draw his daughter to his heart, 
 but Regine came upon the other side and also at- 
 tempted to draw her to her breast, crying out in 
 just as pathetic tones: "Compose yourself, Toni. 
 An awful blow confronts you, but you must bear it. 
 You must show your betrothed that he and his be- 
 trayal are an abomination to your deepest soul." 
 
 This stormy sympathy was rather startling, but 
 fortunately Antonie had strong nerves. So she 
 freed herself from the double embrace, stepped back, 
 and said with calm decision : "I do not think it 
 so. I begin only now to really like Willy." 
 
 "So much the worse," said Schonan. "Poor 
 child, you do not know yet; you have no idea of 
 anything! Your betrothed has had a duel for an- 
 other's sake." 
 
 "I know that, papa." 
 
 "For Marietta's sake," explained Frau von Es- 
 chenhagen. 
 
 "I know it, dear aunt." 
 
 "But he loves Marietta !" cried both in accord.
 
 294 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 
 
 "I know that, too," replied Toni, with superior 
 mien. "I have known it for a week." 
 
 The effect of this explanation was so crushing 
 that the two furious people became silent and looked 
 at each other in consternation. Toni continued 
 with imperturbable composure : 
 
 "Willy told me everything directly upon his ar- 
 rival. He spoke so beautifully and truly that I 
 wept with emotion. At the same time a letter ar- 
 rived from Marietta, in which she begged my par- 
 don, and that was still more touching. So nothing 
 was left to me but to give back to Willy his promise 
 and freedom." 
 
 "Without asking us?" exclaimed Regine. 
 
 "The asking would not have been of any use 
 here," said Toni, calmly, "for I could not marry a 
 man who tells me that he loves another. We have 
 therefore quietly dissolved our engagement." 
 
 "So? And I learn it only now? You have be- 
 come very independent suddenly," cried her father 
 angrily. 
 
 "Willy intended to speak to you the next day, 
 papa, but he could not have remained here any 
 longer after such an explanation, and just then oc- 
 curred the serious illness of Dr. Volkmar and Mari- 
 etta's arrival. She was in despair poor Marietta! 
 and Willy's heart almost broke at the thought of 
 leaving her alone in this anxiety and of going away 
 without knowing what turn the illness would take; 
 so I proposed to him to keep quiet for the present, 
 until the danger should be past ; but I went with him 
 to Waldhofen daily, so that he could see and con- 
 sole Marietta. They have been so grateful to me 
 those two. They have called me the guardian angel 
 of their love."
 
 THE SIGtt OF FLAME. 295 
 
 The young lady seemed to find this very touching, 
 too, for she carried her handkerchief to her eyes. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen stood stiff and rigid as a 
 statue, but Schonan folded his hands and said with 
 a resigned sigh : "May God bless your kindness, 
 my child! but such a thing has never happened be- 
 fore. And you have arranged the affair very 
 smoothly, I must confess. You have sat and looked 
 quietly on while your betrothed made love to an- 
 other girl." 
 
 Antonie shook her head impatiently. Appar- 
 ently she liked the role of guardian angel, and found 
 her position one she could fill without any great 
 exertion, since her affection for her betrothed had 
 always been a very cool one. 
 
 "There was no sign of love-making, as the doctor 
 was too seriously ill," she returned. "Marietta 
 cried incessantly and we had plenty to do to console 
 her. Now you see and understand that I am not 
 at all betrayed, and that Willy has acted openly and 
 honestly. I asked him myself to be silent to you, 
 and, in fact, the matter concerns us only " 
 
 "Do you think so ? It is therefore of no concern 
 to us?" interrupted the Chief Forester furiously. 
 
 "No, papa. Willy is of the opinion that we need 
 not mind our parents in this matter at all." 
 
 "What does Willibald mean?" demanded Frau 
 von Eschenhagen, who regained her speech at this 
 unheard-of assertion. 
 
 "That each must love the other before marrying, 
 and he is right," declared Toni, with unusual vivac- 
 ity. "It was not in our engagement at all in fact, 
 we were not even consulted but I shall not permit 
 it another time. I see now what it means for two 
 people to love each other with all their heart, and
 
 296 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 how remarkably Willy has changed through it. I, 
 too, want to be loved as Marietta is loved, and if I 
 do not find a man who loves me exactly like that 
 then I shall not marry at all." 
 
 And after this remark Fraulein Antonie walked 
 out of the room with much decision and a highly 
 elevated head, leaving father and aunt in an inde- 
 scribable condition. 
 
 The Chief Forester was the first to regain com- 
 posure, but suppressed vexation was still in his 
 voice as he turned to his sister-in-law and said: 
 "Your boy has managed nicely, I must confess, 
 Regine. Now Toni wants to be loved also, and be- 
 gins to get romantic ideas in her head, and Willy 
 seems to be far gone already in that respect. I ac- 
 tually believe he has managed to make this second 
 proposal by himself." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen paid no attention to this 
 bitter hint of her interference at the former time. 
 Her face bore an expression which promised noth- 
 ing good. 
 
 "You seem to look upon this affair from a comic 
 standpoint," she said. "I take it differently." 
 
 "That will not help you any," returned Schonan. 
 "When such a model son commences to rebel, the 
 affair is usually hopeless, especially when he is in 
 love. But I am curious to know how Willy behaves 
 himself as a lover it must be a remarkable sight !"
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 HERR VON SCHONAN'S curiosity was to be imme- 
 diately satisfied, for Willy now appeared. He had 
 heard of the arrival of his mother and was therefore 
 prepared for anything, for that there must be some- 
 thing especial to bring her to Furstenstein so unex- 
 pectedly, he knew. But the young lord did not 
 shrink back this time as he did two months ago, 
 when he timidly concealed the rose in his pocket. 
 His bearing betrayed that he was determined to 
 take up the unavoidable contest. 
 
 "Here is your mother, Willy," commenced the 
 Chief Fo'rester. "I suppose you are very much sur- 
 prised to see her here?" 
 
 "No, uncle, I am not," was the answer, but the 
 young man made no attempt to approach his mother, 
 for she stood there like a threatening storm cloud, 
 and her voice rumbled like distant thunder as she 
 said: "So you know why I have come?" 
 
 "I at least guess it, mamma, even if I cannot 
 understand how you have heard " 
 
 "The papers have told all there it lies," inter- 
 rupted Frau von Eschenhagen, pointing to the 
 table, "and, besides, Toni has told us everything 
 do you hear? everything!" 
 
 She pronounced this last word in an annihilating 
 tone. Willy was not moved from his composure, 
 but replied tranquilly: 
 
 "Well, I *shall not have to tell you, then. I 
 should have spoken to uncle to-day about it." 
 
 297
 
 298 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 This was too much. The storm cloud burst now 
 with thunder and lightning; it loaded and dis- 
 charged with such vehemence over the head of the 
 young lord that really nothing seemed left for him 
 to do but to disappear quickly under the ground, 
 which could not bear a person of his kind any 
 longer. 
 
 But he did not disappear ; he only bowed his head 
 to the storm, and when it finally subsided for Frau 
 Regine had necessarily to draw breath some time 
 he drew himself up and said : "Mamma, please let 
 me talk." 
 
 "You want to talk? that is remarkable," declared 
 Schonan, who was not used to such efforts from 
 his daughter's betrothed ; but Willibald actually be- 
 gan, hesitatingly and uncertainly at first, but he 
 gradually acquired firmness in speech and bearing. 
 
 "I am sorry that I have to offend you, but it could 
 not be helped. I am just as innocent about the duel 
 as Marietta is. She was being followed by an im- 
 pertinent fellow persistently. I protected her and 
 chastised the offender, who sent me a challenge, 
 which I never could nor would decline. I have to 
 beg Toni's pardon alone for loving Marietta, and 
 I did that immediately upon my arrival. She heard 
 everything and gave me back my pledge. Indeed, 
 we have broken our engagement much more inde- 
 pendently than we formed it." 
 
 "Oh, ho, is that meant for us ?" cried the Forester 
 angrily. "We did not force you both of you could 
 have said no if you had wished." 
 
 "Well, we do that now as a supplement," returned 
 Willibald, so quickly that Schonan looked at him 
 amazed. "Toni came to the same conclusion that 
 custom alone is not sufficient for marriage, and if
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 299 
 
 one has learned to know happiness, one wants to 
 possess it also." 
 
 Fran von Eschenhagen, who had not yet quite re- 
 gained her breath, started at these words as if bit- 
 ten by a snake. It had never entered her mind that 
 a second engagement would follow the first, now 
 broken. She had never contemplated this most 
 awful of possibilities. 
 
 "Possess it," she repeated. "What do you wish 
 to possess ? Does that mean perhaps that you want 
 to marry this Marietta this creature " 
 
 "Mamma, I beg you to speak in a different tone 
 of my future wife," her son interrupted her, so 
 gravely and decidedly that the angry mother stopped 
 indeed. "Toni has given me freedom; therefore 
 there is no wrong in my love for Marietta, and 
 Marietta's reputation is blameless I am convinced 
 of that. Whoever hurts or offends her has to an- 
 swer to me, even if it should be my own mother." 
 
 "Hear, hear ! the boy is coming out," murmured 
 the Chief Forester, with whom the sense of justice 
 overpowered his vexation, but Frau von Eschen- 
 hagen was far from listening to justice. 
 
 She had thought to crush her son with her ap- 
 pearance, and now he offered her resistance in this 
 never before heard of manner. 
 
 His manly behavior tried her most, as she recog- 
 nized by it how deep and powerful was the feeling 
 which could change him so completely. 
 
 "I will spare you the enforcement of it toward 
 your mother," she said with boundless bitterness. 
 "You are of age, and master of Burgsdorf. I can- 
 not prevent" you, but if you really bring this 
 Marietta yolkmar there as your wife. then I 
 leave."- "
 
 300 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 This threat did not miss its aim. Willibald 
 started and drew back. 
 
 "Mamma, you speak in anger." 
 
 "I speak in deepest earnestness. As soon as an 
 actress enters the house where I have lived and 
 worked for thirty years where I had hoped to lay 
 my head down for its final rest I shall leave the 
 house forever. She may reign there then. You 
 have the choice between her and your mother." 
 
 "But, Regine, do not force it to such a conclu- 
 sion," Schonan tried to pacify her. "You torture 
 the poor boy with this cruel 'either or.' ' 
 
 Regine did not listen to the exhortation. She 
 stood there white to the lips, her eyes immovably 
 fixed upon her son, and she repeated unyieldingly: 
 
 "Decide for yourself this girl or me." 
 
 Willibald had also turned pale, and his lips quiv- 
 ered painfully and bitterly as he said in a low tone: 
 
 "That's hard, mamma ; you know how I love you, 
 and how you hurt me with your going away; but 
 if you really are so cruel as to force me to choose, 
 well then" he straightened himself with decision 
 "then I choose my betrothed." 
 
 "Bravo!" cried the Chief Forester, forgetting 
 entirely that he was one of the offended ones. 
 "Willy, I feel like Toni. I begin only now to really 
 like you. I am positively sorry now that you will 
 not be my son-in-law." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen had not expected such a 
 turn of affairs. She had trusted in her old power, 
 which she now saw fall into fragments, but she was 
 not the woman to give in. She would not have 
 bent her obstinate will even if her life had depended 
 upon it. 
 
 "Good! then we have finished with each other,"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 30i 
 
 she said curtly, and turned to go without heeding 
 her brother-in-law, who followed her, trying to 
 pacify her; but before they reached the door it was 
 opened and a servant entered with a hasty an- 
 nouncement : 
 
 "The steward of Rodeck is outside and begs " 
 
 "I have no time now," stormed the impulsive 
 Schonan. "Tell Stadinger I cannot speak with him 
 at present. I have important family affairs ' 
 
 He did not finish, for Stadinger already stood 
 upon the threshold, having followed the servant 
 closely, and said in a peculiarly suppressed tone: 
 "I come about a family affair also, Herr Chief 
 Forester, but it is a sad one. I cannot wait, but 
 must speak to you immediately." 
 
 "But what is it?" asked Schonan, mystified. 
 "Has something happened? The Prince is not at 
 Rodeck so far as I know." 
 
 "No, mein Herr. His Highness is in town, but 
 Herr Rojanow is there and sends me. He begs 
 you and Herr von Eschenhagen to come to Rodeck 
 immediately, and you, gracious lady" he glanced 
 at Frau von Eschenhagen, whom he knew from her 
 former visits to Furstenstein "you would do well 
 to come likewise." 
 
 "But why? What has happened?" cried Scho- 
 nan, now really disturbed. 
 
 The old man hesitated; he had apparently been 
 charged to break the news gradually. Finally he 
 said : "His Excellency, Herr von Wallmoden, is at 
 the castle, and the Frau Baroness also." 
 
 "My brother!" interrupted Regine with appre- 
 hension. 
 
 "Yes, gracious lady. His Excellency fell out of 
 the carriage, and now he lies there unconscious,
 
 302 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 which means to the physician we called in great 
 haste that the matter is dangerous." 
 
 "In God's name! we must go at once, Moritz," 
 cried the frightened lady. 
 
 Herr von Schonan had already grasped the bell 
 rope and pulled it. 
 
 "The carriage as quick as possible!" he cried to 
 the servant. "How did it happen, Stadinger? Tell 
 us what you know." 
 
 "The Herr Baron was coming from Ostwalden 
 with the gracious lady, intending to come to Fur- 
 stenstein," responded Stadinger. "The road, you 
 know, leads through the Rodeck tract not far from 
 the castle. Our Forester, who was with some of 
 his subordinates in the Wald, fired a few shots, and 
 a wounded deer dashed across the road in wild 
 flight just by the carriage. The horses took fright 
 and ran the driver could not hold them. The 
 two Foresters who saw it ran after them. They 
 heard the Frau Baroness beg her husband: 'Re- 
 main seated. Herbert! for God's sake, no, do not 
 jump,' but His Excellency seemed to have lost his 
 head entirely. He tore the door open and jumped. 
 At the wild pace they were going he fell, of course, 
 with full force, and against a tree. The driver 
 succeeded in bringing his horses to a standstill not 
 far at a bend of the road. The Frau Baroness, 
 who was not hurt, hastened to the place of misfor- 
 tune as quickly as possible, and she found the poor 
 gentleman there seriously injured and unconscious. 
 The Forester's people carried him to Rodeck, which 
 was near by. Herr I^tjanow has looked after 
 everything that could be done at the moment, and 
 now he sends me to bring you the news." 
 
 It was natural that under the pressure of this
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 303 
 
 heart-rending news the recent bitter family quarrel 
 should cease instantly. In great haste they made 
 ready for departure. Antonie was called and in- 
 formed, and as soon as the carriage drove up the 
 Chief Forester and his sister-in-law hastened down- 
 stairs. 
 
 Willibald, who followed with Stadinger, detained 
 him on the steps for a moment and asked in a low 
 tone : "Has the doctor given his opinion ? Do you 
 know anything more about it?" 
 
 The old man nodded sadly, and answered also in 
 low tones: "I stood near when Herr Rojanow 
 asked him in the ante-room. There is no hope 
 the poor Excellency will not live through the day."
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 THE little hunting castle of Rodeck, which lay 
 so cold and lonely in the first December snowy days, 
 had seldom seen such excitement as to-day. 
 
 It was about noon when the two Foresters, whose 
 firing was the innocent cause of the disaster, brought 
 the injured Ambassador to the house. They had 
 known that the longer march to Furstenstein was 
 impossible, so they turned toward Rodeck, which 
 lay scarcely a quarter of an hour's walk from the 
 place of the accident. 
 
 Hartmut Rojanow, who was at the castle, was 
 immediately called, and had made the necessary 
 arrangements with quick decision. The rooms 
 which Prince Adelsberg usually occupied were put 
 at the disposal of the Baroness, and a messenger 
 was despatched on horseback for the nearest physi- 
 cian, who, fortunately, was easy to reach. 
 
 When the doctor's statement allowed no hope, 
 Stadinger was sent to Furstenstein to summon the 
 relatives, who soon arrived, but only to find Herr 
 von Wallmoden dying. He did not regain the 
 consciousness which he had lo'st in that awful fall; 
 he lay there immovable, recognizing no one; and 
 when the day drew to a close all was over. 
 
 The Chief Forester, with Willibald, returned to 
 Furstenstein tow r ard night. He had sent a tele- * 
 gram before leaving Furstenstein, to notify the 
 Embassy of the sad accident which had befallen its 
 
 304
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 305 
 
 chief, and now had to follow it with the announce- 
 ment of his death. 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen had remained at Rodeck 
 with her brother's widow. To-morrow prepara- 
 tions would be made to carry the body to the Resi- 
 denz, and the two ladies wished to remain at his 
 side until then. 
 
 Adelaide, who had proved so courageous during 
 the danger, and who had done her full duty at the 
 bedside of her husband, seemed, now that this duty 
 was over, to give way entirely under the sudden and 
 prostrating blow. She was stunned and dazed by 
 the awful accident. 
 
 At the window of his room, which was in an 
 upper story, stood Hartmut, gazing out into the 
 desolate forest, which glittered so ghostly in the 
 dim starlight. Yesterday had brought the first 
 snow, and now everything was stiff in its cold em- 
 brace. The large lawn in front of the castle was 
 deeply covered; the trees bent heavily under their 
 white burden, and the broad branches of the firs 
 were bowed to the ground. 
 
 Up there in the dark night sky, star after star 
 shone in calm splendor, and far off on the northern 
 horizon dawned a slight rosy light, like the first 
 greeting of the dawn. And yet it was night cold, 
 icy cold, winter night, in which as yet no ray of the 
 coming day could fall. 
 
 Hartmut's eyes were riveted upon the mysterious 
 glow. In his heart, too, it was dark, and yet some- 
 thing dawned* there, fair and low, like the dawn of 
 the morn. He had not seen Adelaide von Wall- 
 moden since that fatal hour upon the forest height,
 
 306 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 until he met her to-day at the side of her husband, 
 who had been borne, bleeding and unconscious 
 dying into the castle. 
 
 This sight forced back every remembrance, and 
 demanded assistance to the extent of his power. 
 He had not entered the death chamber, and had 
 only received the doctor's report; neither had he 
 appeared upon Frau von Eschenhagen's arrival, but 
 later on had spoken with the Chief Forester and 
 Willibald. Now everything was decided. Herbert 
 von Wallmoden was no longer among the living, 
 and his wife was a widow was free. 
 
 A deep breath agitated Hartmut's breast at the 
 thought, and yet nothing joyful was in it, although 
 his feelings had undergone a change since the hour 
 he ventured his highest stake and lost. 
 
 But that hour had proved to him the deep abyss 
 which was open between them even now that the 
 bond of Adelaide's marriage was broken. She had 
 "shuddered" before the man who believed in noth- 
 ing to whom nothing was sacred, and he was the 
 same man he had been then. 
 
 He had offered an apology without words in the 
 creation of the added portion of Arivana which bore 
 her name, but Ada had floated back to the heights 
 from which she had come with her cry of warning, 
 and mankind, with their glowing hate and love, re- 
 mained upon earth. 
 
 Hartmut Rojanow could not force the hot, wild 
 blood which flowed in his veins into a quiet move- 
 ment ; he could not bow to a life full of strict obedi- 
 ence and duty neither did he wish to. For what 
 had the genius which won his way everywhere been 
 given him, if it could not lift him over the duties and 
 barriers of every-day life?
 
 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 30? 
 
 And yet he knew that those large, blue eyes 
 pointed inexorably to the hated path that would 
 never do. 
 
 The red glimmer over the forest yonder had 
 turned darker and risen higher. It looked like the 
 reflection of a powerful fire; but that calm, steady 
 light came from no fire. Immovable it stood in the 
 north; mysterious, high, and far removed an au- 
 rora in approaching splendor. 
 
 The rolling of a carriage coming near in great 
 haste broke Hartmut from his revery. It was past 
 nine o'clock; who could arrive at such an hour? 
 Perhaps it was the second physician who had been 
 sent for in the afternoon, but who had been away 
 from home; perhaps some one from Ostwalden, 
 where the news may have already been carried. 
 
 Now the carriage turned the corner of the lawn ; 
 the wheels crunched upon the hard, frozen ground, 
 and the vehicle reached the main entrance of the 
 castle. 
 
 Rojanow, who to-day represented the master of 
 the house, left his room and started to meet the new 
 arrival. He had reached the stairs which led down 
 to the entrance hall, and put his foot upon the first 
 step, when he suddenly shuddered and remained 
 rooted to the spot. 
 
 Down there a voice spoke which he had not heard 
 for ten long years; it was suppressed, and yet he 
 recognized it at the first moment. 
 
 "I come from the Embassy. We received a dis- 
 patch this afternoon, and I took the first train to 
 hasten here. How is he? Can I see Herr von 
 Wallmoden?': 
 
 Stadinger, who had received the newcomer, re- 
 plied in such low tones that the import of his words 
 
 Iv
 
 308 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 
 
 was lost to Hartmnt, but the stranger asked hastily : 
 "I do not come too late?" 
 
 "Yes, mein Herr. Herr von Wallmoden died 
 this afternoon." 
 
 A short pause followed, then the stranger said, 
 huskily but firmly: "Lead me to the widow an- 
 nounce Colonel von Falkenried." 
 
 Stadinger turned to go, followed by a tall figure 
 in a military cloak, of which one could see only the 
 outlines in the dimly-lighted hall. 
 
 The two figures had long ago disappeared in the 
 lower rooms, and still Hartmut stood leaning on 
 the baluster, looking downward. Only when Stad- 
 inger returned alone did he collect himself and re- 
 tire to his room. 
 
 Here he walked restlessly for a quarter of an hour. 
 It was a hard, silent conflict which he waged. He 
 had never been able to bend his pride; had never 
 humbled himself, but he had to bow low before his 
 deeply offended father he knew that. But again 
 a burning, absorbing longing overcame him, be- 
 coming all-powerful and finally conquering. He 
 drew himself up resolutely. 
 
 "No, I will not shrink like a coward now. We 
 are under one roof; the same walls surround us; 
 now it shall be ventured. He is my father and I 
 am his son."
 
 CHAPTER XLIII. 
 
 THE castle clock struck twelve in slow, hollow 
 strokes. Deathlike stillness lay over the forest out- 
 side, and it was as still in the house where a corpse 
 lay. The steward and servants had retired, as had 
 Frau von Eschenhagen. Exhausted nature de- 
 manded its due. She had made the long, tedious 
 journey from Burgsdorf without stop, and had lived 
 through the hard, trying day. 
 
 Only a few windows were dimly lighted ; they be- 
 longed to the rooms which had been appointed to 
 Frau von Wallmoden and Colonel Falkenried, which 
 lay near together, separated only by an ante-room. 
 
 Falkenried intended to accompany the widow back 
 to the Residenz on the morrow. He had spoken 
 with her and Regine, and had stood for a long time 
 beside the body of his friend, who only yesterday 
 had called to him so confidently, "auf wieder- 
 sehen" who had been so full of his projects and 
 plans for his future and his newly acquired posses- 
 sions. Now all this had come to an end. Cold and 
 stiff he lay upon his bier, and cold and gloomy 
 Falkenried now stood at the window of his room. 
 Even this awful accident was not able to shake his 
 stony composure, for he had long ago forgotten to 
 consider death a misfortune. Life was hard but 
 not death. 
 
 He looked ^silently out into the winter night and 
 he, too, saw the ghostly glimmer which lighted the 
 
 309
 
 310 THE SIGtf OP FLAME. 
 
 darkness out there. Dark-red it now glowed upon 
 the distant horizon, and the whole of the northern 
 sky seemed penetrated by invisible flames. 
 
 Redlike, as through a purple veil, twinkled the 
 stars. Now a few distant rays shot up, growing 
 more numerous, and rising always higher to the 
 zenith. 
 
 Beneath this flaming sky the snow-covered world 
 lay cold and white. The aurora was shining in the 
 fulness of its splendor ! 
 
 Falkenried was so lost in the glory of the sight 
 that he did not hear the opening and closing of the 
 door of the ante-room. Carefully the partly closed 
 door of his own room was now opened, but the one 
 entering did not bring himself into view, but re- 
 mained motionless upon the threshold. 
 
 Colonel Falkenried still stood at the window half- 
 averted, but the flickering light of the candles which 
 burned upon the table lighted his face distinctly; 
 the strong, deep lines of the features, and the 
 gloomy, careworn brow beneath the white hair. 
 
 Hartmut shivered involuntarily; he had not an- 
 ticipated such a deep and awful change. The man 
 standing in his prime, looked aged, and who had 
 brought this premature age upon him? 
 
 A few moments passed in this deep silence, then 
 a voice vibrated through the room half-audible, 
 beseeching, and full of a tenderness suppressed with 
 difficulty a single w r ord pregnant with meaning. 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 Falkenried started as if a spirit voice had reached 
 his ear. Slowly he turned as if really believing he 
 heard a spirit-haunting voice. 
 
 Hartmut quickly approached a few steps, then 
 Stood still.
 
 THE 8IGX OF FLAME. 311 
 
 "Father, it is I I come " 
 
 He stopped short, for now he met his father's 
 eyes; those eyes which he had feared so much, and 
 what they now expressed robbed him of the courage 
 to speak further. He bowed his head in silence. 
 
 Every drop of blood seemed to have left the face 
 of Colonel Falkenried. He had not known he had 
 no idea that his son was under the same roof with 
 him; the meeting found him totally unprepared, 
 but it did not tear from him one exclamation, nor 
 sign of anger or weakness. Rigid and mute he 
 stood there and looked upon him who had once been 
 his all. At last he raised his hand and pointed to 
 the door. 
 
 "Go!" 
 
 "Father, listen to me " 
 
 "Go, I say." The command now sounded threat- 
 ening. 
 
 "No, I shall not go !" cried Hartmut passionately. 
 "I know that reconciliation with you depends upon 
 this hour. I have offended you how deeply and 
 seriously I feel only now but I was a boy of seven- 
 teen, and it was my mother whom I followed. Think 
 of that, father, and pardon me grant pardon to 
 your son." 
 
 "You are the son of the woman whose name you 
 bear not mine!" said the Colonel with cutting 
 scorn. "A Falkenried has no son without honor." 
 
 Hartmut was about to burst forth at this awful 
 word; the blood rose hot and wild to his brow, but 
 he looked upon that other brow beneath the hair 
 bleached like snow, and with superhuman effort con- 
 trolled himself. 
 
 The two believed themselves alone during this 
 interview in the stillness of the night surely every-
 
 312 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 thing was sleeping in the castle. They had no idea 
 that a witness was there. 
 
 Adelaide von Wallmoden had not retired to rest. 
 She knew that she could find no sleep after this day 
 which had so suddenly and disastrously made her a 
 widow. Dressed still in the dark traveling suit 
 which she had worn on the unfortunate drive, she 
 sat in her room, when suddenly Colonel Falken- 
 ried's voice reached her ear. 
 
 With whom could he be speaking at such an 
 hour ? Was he not a total stranger here ? And the 
 voice sounded so strangely hollow and threatening. 
 
 She arose in alarm and entered the ante-room 
 which separated the two sleeping apartments for 
 only a moment, she thought only to see that noth- 
 ing had happened; then she heard another voice 
 which she knew heard the word "Father," and 
 like lightning the truth flashed upon her, which the 
 next words confirmed. As if paralyzed, she re- 
 mained standing there, every word reaching her 
 through the partly closed door. 
 
 "You make this hour hard for me," said Hartmut 
 with painfully sustained composure. "Be it so I 
 have not expected it otherwise. Wallmoden has 
 told you everything. I might have known it, but 
 then he could not keep from you what I have sought 
 and won. I bring to you the laurel of the poet, 
 father the first laurel which has come to me. Learn 
 to know my work ; let it speak to you, then you will 
 feel that its creator could not live and breathe in the 
 constraint of a vocation which kills every poetical 
 emotion ; then you will forget the unfortunate error 
 of the boy." 
 
 Here again it was Hartmut Rojanow who spoke 
 thus with his overweening self-consciousness and
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 313 
 
 pride, which did not leave him even in this hour; 
 the poet of Arivana, for whom there existed no 
 duties no barriers ; but he encountered a rock here, 
 upon which he shattered. 
 
 "The boy's error!" repeated Falkenried, just as 
 harshly as before. "Yes, they called it so to make 
 it possible for me to remain in the army. I name 
 it differently, and so does every one of my com- 
 rades. You were to have been an ensign. In a 
 few weeks it would have been desertion of the stand- 
 ard by law also. I have never considered it any- 
 thing else. You had been raised in the strict dis- 
 cipline of honor of our caste, and knew what you 
 did, for you were no longer a boy. He who Hees 
 secretly from the military service which he owes his 
 fatherland is a deserter; he who breaks a vow a 
 given word is without honor. You did both! 
 But of course you and your kind pass over such 
 things easily." 
 
 Hartmut clenched his teeth ; his whole body trem- 
 bled at these merciless words, and his voice sounded 
 hollow, choked, as he answered : 
 
 "Enough, father. I cannot bear it. I wished to 
 bow before you wished to submit but you your- 
 self drive me from you. This is the same cruel 
 sternness with which you drove my mother from 
 you. I know it from her own lips. Whatever her 
 later life was, and however through it my own has 
 developed this severity alone has been the cause 
 of it." 
 
 The Colonel folded his arms, and an expression 
 of unspeakable disdain quivered around his 
 mouth. % 
 
 "From her own lips you know? Possibly. No 
 woman has sunk so deeply but she would try to
 
 314 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 veil such a truth from her son. I did not wish to 
 pollute your ears at that time with this truth, for 
 you were innocent and pure. Now you will prob- 
 ably understand me when I tell you that the sep- 
 aration was a demand of honor. The man who 
 stained my honor fell by my bullet, and she who be- 
 trayed me I pushed from me." 
 
 Hartmut became white as death at this disclo- 
 sure. He had never thought that. He had fully 
 believed that only the harshness which lay in his 
 father's character had caused the separation. The 
 remembrance of his mother fell lower and lower; 
 he had loved her just as ardently as she had loved 
 him, even when he felt at times that she was his 
 ruin. 
 
 "I wished to protect you from the poisonous 
 breath of this presence and influence," continued 
 Falkenried. "Fool that I was! You were lost to 
 me even without the coming of your mother. You 
 bear her features; it is her blood that courses 
 through your veins, and it would have demanded its 
 dominion sooner or later. You would have become 
 anyway what you are now a homeless adventurer, 
 who does not recognize his fatherland and his 
 honor." 
 
 "This is too much !" burst forth Hartmut wildly. 
 "I shall not permit myself to be so abused, even by 
 you. I see now that no reconciliation between us is 
 possible. I go, but the world will judge differently 
 from you. It has already crowned my first work, 
 and I shall force from it the appreciation which my 
 own father keeps from me." 
 
 The Colonel looked at his son something awful 
 was in the glance; then he said icily and slowly, 
 emphasizing each word : "Then take care also that
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 315 
 
 the world does not learn that the 'crowned poet' 
 did a spy's service two years ago at Paris." 
 
 Hartmut shrank as if hit by a bullet. 
 
 "I? In Paris? Are you out of your senses?" 
 
 Falkenried shrugged his shoulders contemptu- 
 ously. 
 
 "Acting besides? Do not trouble yourself I 
 know all. Wallmoden proved to me what role 
 Zalika Rojanow and her son played at Paris. I 
 know the origin of the means by which they con- 
 tinued the life they were accustomed to when their 
 wealth was lost. They were very much sought 
 after by the commissioners, for they were exceed- 
 ingly apt, and they who bought their services re- 
 ceived them." 
 
 Hartmut stood as if lifeless. So this was the 
 awful solution of the problem which Wallmoden 
 had given him that night in his hint. He had not 
 understood its meaning then, but sought the solu- 
 tion in another direction. This was it, then, which 
 his mother kept from him from which she had 
 diverted him with caresses and coaxings whenever 
 he put a suspicious question. She had sunk to the 
 last, most disgraceful lot and her son was branded 
 with her. 
 
 The silence which now ensued was awful; it 
 lasted for minutes, and when Hartmut finally spoke 
 again his voice had lost its sound the words came 
 brokenly, almost inaudibly, from his lips: 
 
 "And you believe that I that I knew about 
 this?" 
 
 "Yes," said the Colonel, coldly and firmly. 
 
 "Father, you cannot must not do that. The 
 punishment would be too terrible. You must be- 
 lieve me when I tell you that I had no idea of this
 
 316 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 disgrace that I believed a part of our wealth had 
 been saved that you will believe me, father?" 
 
 "No." Falkenried remained rigid and unbend- 
 ing as before. , 
 
 Beside himself with anguish, Hartmut fell upon 
 his knees. 
 
 "Father, before everything that is sacred to you 
 in heaven or in earth oh, do not look at me so ter- 
 ribly. You drive me frantic with that look! 
 Father, I give you my word of honor " 
 
 An awful, wild laugh from his father interrupted 
 him. 
 
 "Your word of honor as at that time at Burgs- 
 dorf. Get up abandon acting; you do not deceive 
 me by it. You went from me with a breaking of 
 your word you return with a lie. Go your own 
 way I go mine. Only one thing I request of you 
 command you. Do not dare to use the name of 
 Falkenried by the side of the branded one of Ro- 
 janow. Never let the world know who you are. 
 kWhen that happens my blood will be upon you, for 
 then I end with life !" 
 
 With a loud cry Hartmut sprang to his feet and 
 approached his father, but Falkenried repelled him 
 by a commanding gesture. 
 
 "Do you think that I still love life ? I have borne 
 it because I had to perhaps I considered it my 
 duty ; but there is one point where this duty ends ; 
 you know it now act accordingly." 
 
 He turned his back upon his son and walked to 
 the window. Hartmut did not speak another word. 
 Mutely he turned to go. 
 
 The ante-room was not lighted, yet it was filled 
 with the glow of the blazing skies outside, and in 
 this glow stood a woman deathly pale with eyes
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 317 
 
 fixed with an indescribable expression upon the one 
 approaching. 
 
 He glanced up and a single look showed him that 
 she knew all. This was the last. He had received 
 his mortal humiliation before the woman he loved 
 had been thrown into the dust before her! 
 
 Hartmut did not know how he left the castle, how 
 he reached the open air. He only felt that he 
 should stifle in those walls that he was driven 
 forth with fury and power. He found himself at 
 last under a fir tree, which bowed its snow-covered 
 limbs over him. It was night in the forest cold, 
 icy winter night, but up there in the sky the mys- 
 terious light shone on and on with purple power, 
 with quivering rays, which united at the zenith into 
 a crown.
 
 CHAPTER XLIV. 
 
 IT was summer again. July had commenced, and 
 in the hot, sun-parched days the forest mountains 
 beckoned irresistibly with their cool shadows, and 
 the green, airy splendor of their dales and heights. 
 
 Ostwalden, the estate which Herbert von \Yall- 
 moden had purchased immediately before his death, 
 and had not been permitted to live in for even one 
 summer, had since then rested in solitude. But a 
 few days ago the young widow had arrived there 
 in company with her sister-in-law, Frau von Es- 
 chenhagen. 
 
 Adelaide had left the South German Residenz 
 shortly after the death of her husband and returned 
 home with her brother, who had hastened to her 
 side at the news of her husband's death. Her short 
 married life had lasted but eight months, and now 
 the wife, not yet twenty years old, wore the widow's 
 veil. 
 
 Regine had been easily persuaded to accompany 
 her sister-in-law. The once absolute mistress of 
 Burgsdorf had stood to her "either or," and as 
 Willibald proved just as obstinate, she had made 
 her threat true, and had moved to town even during 
 the first period of mourning for her brother. 
 
 But Frau von Eschenhagen deceived herself if 
 she thought to gain her end by this last move. She 
 had hoped that her son would not let it come to a 
 real separation, but it was in vain that she let him 
 feel the full bitterness of the separation. The young 
 
 318
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME!. 319 
 
 master had had full opportunity to prove that his 
 newly awakened independence and love were not 
 mere momentary feelings. 
 
 He tried everything to make his mother recon- 
 sider, but when he did not succeed, he showed a like 
 stubbornness, and mother and son had not seen each 
 other for months. 
 
 However, his engagement with Marietta had not 
 been made public as yet. He believed he owed his 
 former fiancee and her father too much respect to 
 allow a second betrothal to follow too soon upon 
 the heels of the first. Besides, Marietta was bound 
 by contract to the theatre for fully six months, and 
 as her betrothal was to remain a secret for the pres- 
 ent, she could not obtain an earlier release. Only 
 now had the young girl returned to her grand- 
 father at Waldhofen, where Willibald was also ex- 
 pected. 
 
 Of course Frau von Eschenhagen knew nothing 
 about this or she would hardly have accepted the in- 
 vitation which brought her into the neighborhood. 
 
 The day had been so warm and sunny that only 
 late afternoon brought cooler air, but the road to 
 Ostwalden was mostly shady, as it lay through the 
 forests of Rodeck. 
 
 Two horsemen were now on this road; one in 
 gray hunting jacket and hat the Chief Forester, 
 von Schonan; the other a slender, youthful form 
 clad in a distinguished looking summer suit Prince 
 Adelsberg. They had met by chance and learned 
 that both were bound for the same, destination. 
 
 "I should not have dreamed of meeting you here, 
 Your Highness," said Schonan. "It was said that 
 you would not visit Rodeck at all this summer, and 
 Stadinger, with whom I spoke the day before ye-
 
 320 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 terday, did not know a syllable of your near ar- 
 rival." 
 
 "No; and he cried Ach! and Weh! when I fell 
 upon the house so unexpectedly," replied Egon. "It 
 would not have needed much to make him show me 
 from my own door, because I followed my dispatch 
 instantly, and nothing was prepared for me. But 
 the heat at Ostend was well-nigh unbearable. I 
 could not stand the glowing sands of the beach any 
 longer, and was overcome by an irrepressible long- 
 ing for my cool, quiet forest nook. God be thanked 
 that I have gotten away from the heat and fuss of a 
 watering place !" 
 
 His Highness was pleased not to tell the truth in 
 this case. He had hastened here from the beach of 
 the North Sea to enjoy a certain "neighborhood" 
 of which he happened to hear. Stadinger had men- 
 tioned in a report, in which he asked for permission 
 to make some changes at Rodeck, that these same 
 arrangements had already been made at Ostwalden, 
 where Frau von Wallmoden dwelt at present. 
 
 To his surprise, instead of the expected permis- 
 sion, his young master arrived in person after three 
 days. The Prince had not known anything better 
 after this news than to throw over all his summer 
 plans. 
 
 The Chief Forester did not seem to believe the 
 pretext, for he remarked somewhat sarcastically: 
 "It surprises me, indeed then, that our Court stays 
 at Ostend so long. The Duke and Duchess are 
 there; also Princess Sophie, with a niece a rela- 
 tive of her late husband, I hear." 
 
 "Yes, a niece." Egon turned suddenly and 
 looked at the speaker. "Herr Chief Forester, you. 
 too, want to deliver congratulations to me I see it
 
 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 321 
 
 in your face but if you do that I shall challenge 
 you instantly here in the midst of the forest." 
 
 "Well, Your Highness, I do not intend to bring 
 a duel upon myself," laughed Schonan, "but the 
 newspapers already speak quite openly of an ap- 
 proaching or already consummated engagement, 
 which suits the wishes of the princely ladies." 
 
 "My most gracious aunts wish many things," said 
 Egon coolly. "Their most obedient nephew, 
 though, is often of a different opinion, alas ; and it 
 has been the case this time also. I went to Ostend 
 upon the invitation of the Duke, which I could not 
 refuse, but the air did not agree with me at all, and 
 I cannot risk my health so recklessly. I felt the 
 first symptoms of sunstroke, which would certainly 
 have taken me off, so I decided, then, in good 
 time " 
 
 "To take yourself off," finished Schonan. "This 
 is like Your Highness, but now you can count upon 
 a three-fold displeasure." 
 
 "Possibly. I shall bear it in solitude and self- 
 banishment. I intend, besides" here the young 
 Prince drew a very solemn face "to give all my 
 attention this summer to my estates especially Ro- 
 deck. A change in the building shall be made 
 there Stadinger has already written me about it, 
 but I considered a personal surveillance neces- 
 sary." 
 
 "On account of the chimneys?" asked Schonan 
 dryly. "Stadinger thought that as the chimneys 
 smoked last winter, he would like to have new ones 
 built." 
 
 "What does Stadinger know about it?" cried 
 Egon, vexed that his old "Waldgeist" had again 
 gotten ahead of him with his most uncomfortable
 
 322 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 love for truth. "I have very grand plans for beau- 
 tifying Ah, here we are!" 
 
 He started his horse into a quicker gait and the 
 Chief Forester followed his example, for Ostwalden 
 indeed lay before them. 
 
 The extensive changes with which the late Wall- 
 moden had intended to convert Ostwalden into a 
 splendid show place had not been made ; but the old 
 ivy-covered castle, with its two side turrets, and the 
 shady, although somewhat neglected park, possessed 
 a picturesque charm. It was understood that the 
 present mistress intended neither changes nor a sale 
 of the property, for to the heiress of the Stahlberg 
 wealth a villa more or less was of no consequence. 
 
 Upon their arrival the gentlemen learned that 
 Frau von Wallmoden was in the park ; but Frau von 
 Eschenhagen was in her room. The Prince allowed 
 himself to be announced to the lady of the house, 
 while the Chief Forester first looked up his sister- 
 in-law, whom he had not seen since the previous 
 winter. He went to her apartments and entered 
 without more ado. 
 
 "Here I am," he announced in his usual uncere- 
 monious manner. "I don't need to be announced to 
 my Frau sister, even if she seems to hold me at 
 arm's length. Why did you not come along, Re- 
 gine, when Adelaide drove to Furstenstein the day 
 before yesterday? Of course, I do not believe the 
 excuse which she brought me in your name, and 
 have now come two hours' riding on horseback to 
 ask for an explanation." 
 
 Regine offered him her hand. She had not 
 changed outwardly in these six or seven months. 
 She still bore the same strong, self-reliant appear- 
 ance and decided way, but her former serenity and
 
 THE SIGtf OP FLAME. 323 
 
 cheerfulness, which, in spite of her brusquerie, were 
 so winning, had disappeared from her manner. If 
 she never acknowledged it under any circumstances, 
 it was plainly to be seen that she suffered because 
 her only son grew strange to her the son to whom 
 once his mother's love and will had been all 
 things. 
 
 "I have nothing against you, Moritz," she re- 
 plied. "I know that you have retained the old 
 friendship for me in spite of all that has been done 
 .to you and your daughter; but you ought to under- 
 stand how embarrassing it is to me to visit Fursten- 
 stein again." 
 
 "On account of the dissolved engagement? You 
 ought to be consoled about it at last. You were 
 present and saw and heard how easily Toni took 
 matters. She was decidedly better pleased with her 
 role of 'guardian angel' than with that of fiancee; 
 and she has tried several times to change your mind 
 by her letters, just as I have ; but we both have been 
 unsuccessful." 
 
 "No ; I know how to value your rare magnanim- 
 ity." 
 
 "Rare magnanimity!" repeated Schonan, laugh- 
 ing. "Well, yes, it might not happen often that the 
 former fiancee and prospective father-in-law put in 
 a good word for the recreant betrothed, so that he 
 and his sweetheart may gain the maternal blessing. 
 But for once we are thus superior in our frankness ; 
 and besides, both of us came to the conclusion that 
 Willy, in fact, has only now become a sensible per- 
 son, and this has been accomplished solely and alone 
 by yes, I cannot help it, Regine by the little 
 Marietta." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen frowned at this remark.
 
 324 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 She did not consider it best to answer it, but asked 
 in a tone that plainly betrayed her wish to change 
 the subject: "Has Toni returned? I learned 
 through Adelaide that she had been at the Residenz, 
 but was daily expected home." 
 
 The Chief Forester, who had accepted a seat in 
 the meantime, leaned back comfortably in his 
 chair. 
 
 "Yes, she returned yesterday, but with a second 
 shadow, for she brought some one along, who she 
 insists must and shall be her future husband, and he 
 insists upon it likewise with such emphasis, that 
 really nothing is left for me to do but to say Yes 
 Amen !" 
 
 "What! Toni engaged again?" asked Frau von 
 Eschenhagen in surprise. 
 
 "Yes, but this time she managed it all by herself; 
 I did not have an inkling of it. You will remem- 
 ber that she took it into her head at that time that 
 she, too, wanted to be loved in a surpassing manner, 
 and enjoy the usual romance of it. Herr Lieuten- 
 ant von Waldorf seems to have attended to that. 
 He has, as she told me with highest satisfaction, 
 sunk on his knees before her, and declared he could 
 not and would not live without her, while she gave 
 him a similar touching assurance, and so forth. 
 Yes, Regine, it will not do any longer to lead the 
 children by the apron strings when they become of 
 age. They imagine that marriage is solely their 
 affair, and really they are not so far wrong 
 about it." 
 
 The last remark sounded very suggestive, but 
 Regine overlooked it completely. She repeated 
 thoughtfully : 
 
 "Waldorf? the name is quite strange to me.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 325 
 
 Where did Toni get acquainted with the young 
 officer ?" 
 
 "He is my son's friend and he brought him home 
 with him at his last visit. In consequence of that 
 an acquaintance with his mother was begun, which 
 ripened until she invited Toni to visit her some 
 weeks, and there and then the falling in love and 
 engagement took place. I have nothing to say 
 against it. Waldorf is handsome, jolly, and in love 
 up to his ears. He does seem to be a little volatile, 
 but he will settle down when he gets a sensible wife. 
 The model boys are not after my taste ; they are the 
 very worst when they do get wild, as we have seen 
 in your Willy. Waldorf will get his discharge in 
 the fall, for my daughter is not suited for a lieu- 
 tenant's wife. I will buy an estate for the young 
 couple, and the wedding will occur at Christmas." 
 
 "I am so glad for Toni's sake," said Frau von 
 Eschenhagen, cordially. "You take a burden from 
 my heart by this news." 
 
 "I am glad, too," nodded the Chief Forester, "but 
 now you ought to follow my example and take a 
 burden from the hearts of a certain other couple. 
 Be reasonable, Regine, and give in! The little 
 Marietta has remained true, although she was on 
 the stage. Everybody praises her blameless con- 
 duct. You do not need to be ashamed of your 
 daughter-in-law." 
 
 Regine arose suddenly and pushed her chair back. 
 
 "I beg you once for all, Moritz, to spare me such 
 requests. I shall stand firm at my word. Willi- 
 bald knows the condition under which alone I will 
 return to Bu^gsdorf. If he does not fulfil it the 
 separation remains." 
 
 "He knows better," said Schonan dryly, "than
 
 326 THE SIGN" OF FLAME. 
 
 to give up his bride-elect and marriage solely be- 
 cause she does not suit his Frau mamma. Such 
 conditions are never fulfilled." 
 
 "You express yourself very amiably indeed," re- 
 turned Frau von Eschenhagen angrily. "Of course, 
 what do you know of the love and anxiety of a 
 mother, or of the gratitude her children owe her? 
 All of you are ungrateful, inconsiderate, sel- 
 fish " 
 
 "Oho ! I beg you, in the name of my sex, to re- 
 frain from such vituperations," interrupted the 
 Chief Forester hotly; but suddenly he reconsidered 
 and said : "We have not seen each other for seven 
 months, Regine ; we really ought not to quarrel the 
 first day again we can do that later on. Let us 
 therefore leave your refractory son alone for the 
 present, and speak of ourselves. How do you like 
 it in town? You do not exactly look so very well 
 satisfied." 
 
 "I am exceptionally satisfied," declared Regine 
 with great decision. . "What I need only is work. 
 I am not used to idleness." 
 
 "Then create work for yourself. It rests solely 
 with you to again step to the head of a large house- 
 hold." 
 
 "Are you commencing again " 
 
 "I did not mean Burgsdorf this time," said Scho- 
 nan, playing with his riding whip. "I only meant 
 you sit all alone in town, and I shall sit all alone 
 at Furstenstein when Toni marries that is very 
 tiresome! How would it be well, I have already 
 explained it to you once before, but you did not want 
 me then. Perhaps you have bethought yourself 
 better now. How would it be if we should make 
 the third couple at this double wedding?"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 32? 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen looked gloomily to the 
 floor and shook her head. 
 
 "No, Moritz. I feel less like marrying now than 
 ever." 
 
 "Already a 'No' again !" shouted the Chief For- 
 ester wrathfully. "Is this a second refusal you give 
 me? At first you did not want me because your 
 son and your beloved Burgsdorf had grown too near 
 your heart, and now when you see that both get 
 along very well without you, you do not want me 
 because you do not 'feel like it.' Feeling does not 
 belong to marrying, anyhow only some sense is 
 wanted; but if one is unreasonableness and obsti- 
 nacy personified " 
 
 "You woo me in a very flattering manner, in- 
 deed," interrupted Regine, now wrathful also. "It 
 would be an exceedingly peaceful marriage if you 
 act like this as a suitor." 
 
 "It would not be peaceful, but neither would it be 
 tiresome," declared Schonan. "I believe we could 
 both stand it. Once more, Regine, do you want me 
 or do you not want me?" 
 
 "No ; I do not care to 'stand' a married life." 
 
 "Then let it alone!" cried the Chief Forester 
 furiously, jumping up and snatching his hat. "If 
 it gives you so much pleasure to say 'No' forever, 
 then say it. But Willy will marry in spite of you, 
 and he is right ; and now I shall be the best man at 
 the wedding just to spite you." 
 
 With which he rushed off, quite beside himself at 
 this second jilting, and Frau von Eschenhagen re- 
 mained behind in a similar frame of mind. They 
 had really quarrelled again at the first Wiedersehen, 
 and even the second refusal could not be left out of 
 this friendly habit
 
 CHAPTER XLV. 
 
 MEANTIME Prince Adelsberg was with Frau von 
 Wallmoden in the park. He had begged her not to 
 interrupt her outing, and so they both walked in the 
 shade of the huge trees in the cool, green twilight, 
 while out on the meadow lay still the glaring sun- 
 light. 
 
 Egon had not seen the young widow since the 
 death of her husband. The formal visit of condo- 
 lence, which he had made after the accident, had 
 been received by Eugene Stahlberg in the name of 
 his sister, and then they had left the city immedi- 
 ately. 
 
 Adelaide wore, of course, the widow's mourning ; 
 but her companion thought he had never seen her so 
 beautiful as to-day in the deep, sombre black and 
 crepe veil, beneath which the blonde hair glim- 
 mered. His glance passed repeatedly over this 
 beautiful blonde head, and always the question re- 
 curred : What has really happened to these features 
 that they look so entirely different? 
 
 Egon had only known the lady at whose side he 
 now walked in that cool, haughty composure which 
 had made her so unapproachable to him and the 
 world. Now this coldness had disappeared, and he 
 saw and felt but could not decipher the strange 
 change which had taken its place. 
 
 The young widow could not possibly mourn so 
 deeply and seriously for a husband who was so far 
 removed from her in age, and who, even had he been 
 
 328
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 329 
 
 young, could never have given her the love youth 
 demands, with his practical, coldly calculating na- 
 ture. And yet there lay over her whole appearance 
 the expression of secret suffering of a sorrow 
 which was mutely but painfully borne. 
 
 Where did this mysterious line come from, this 
 soft light of the eyes which seemed to have learned 
 but now to know tears ? 
 
 "It always seems to me as if life and fire could 
 glow there and transform the snow region into a 
 blooming world," Prince Adelsberg had once ex- 
 claimed in jest. Now this transformation had 
 taken place, slowly, almost imperceptibly. But this 
 soft, half-painful expression which replaced the 
 former seriousness, this dreamy look, gave a charm 
 to the young woman which, with all her beauty, had 
 been missing before a charming, gentle grace. 
 
 At first the conversation touched upon indifferent 
 things only, the questions and answers that were 
 customary and formal. Egon narrated incidents of 
 happenings during the winter at Court and in town, 
 and then offered the same explanation of his sudden 
 arrival which he had given the Chief Forester, 
 speaking of the unendurable heat at Ostend and of 
 his longing for the cool, still forest solitude. 
 
 A fleeting smile which quivered over the lips of 
 his companion told him that she believed this pre- 
 text as little as had the Chief Forester, and that the 
 notice in the papers had also been seen by her. He 
 grew unaccountably vexed about it and studied how 
 he could remedy the mistake, here where he could 
 not be so plain-spoken, when Adelaide suddenly 
 asked : "Shall you remain alone at Rodeck, Your 
 Highness? Last summer you had a guest with 
 you."
 
 330 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 A shadow passed over the face of the young 
 Prince. He forgot the rumor of his engagement 
 and his anger about it at this remark. 
 
 "You mean Hartmut Rojanow?" he asked, 
 gravely. "He will hardly come, as he is in Sicily at 
 present, or at least was there two months ago. I 
 have had no news from him since, and do not even 
 know where to write him." 
 
 Frau von Wallmoden bent down and picked some 
 flowers growing at the wayside as she remarked : "I 
 thought you were in lively correspondence with each 
 other." 
 
 "I hoped so at the beginning of our separation, 
 and it is not my fault; but Hartmut has become a 
 perfect mystery to me lately. You were witness of 
 the brilliant success of his 'Arivana' at our Court 
 Theatre ; it has since then been reproduced at several 
 other theatres. The play is conquering by storm 
 wherever it appears, and the author withdraws from 
 all these triumphs almost flees from his rising 
 fame hides from all the world, even from me. Let 
 who can comprehend it!" 
 
 Adelaide had regained her former erect carriage, 
 but the hand which held the flowers trembled 
 slightly, while her eyes were directed upon the 
 Prince in breathless expectancy. 
 
 "And when did Herr Rojanow leave Germany?" 
 she asked. 
 
 "At the beginning of December. Shortly before 
 that he had gone to Rodeck for a few days immedi- 
 ately after the first appearance of his drama. I con- 
 sidered it a caprice and yielded. Then he suddenly 
 returned to my house, in town, in a condition of 
 mind and body which really frightened me, and an- 
 nounced his departure ; listened to no entreaties, an-
 
 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 331 
 
 swered no questions, but remained firm about going, 
 and really left like a whirlwind. Weeks passed be- 
 fore I heard of him ; then he sent me occasional let- 
 ters, which, if rare enough, at least kept me aware 
 of his whereabouts, and I could answer him. He 
 went to Greece, where he strayed now here, now 
 there. After that he went to Sicily, but now all in- 
 formation has stopped, and I am in the greatest 
 alarm." 
 
 Egon spoke with suppressed excitement. One 
 could see how deeply the separation from his pas- 
 sionately loved friend hurt him. He did not dream 
 that the young widow at his side could have given 
 him an explanation of the mystery. She knew 
 what drove Hartmut to wander restlessly from land 
 to land; what made him shudder before the famous 
 poet's name which bore that secret but awful stain. 
 But it was the first news she had heard of him since 
 that disastrous night at Rodeck, which had discov- 
 ered everything to her. 
 
 "Poets are sometimes differently constituted 
 from common mortals," she said, slowly plucking to 
 pieces one of her flowers. "They have the right 
 sometimes to be incomprehensible." 
 
 The Prince shook his head, incredulously and 
 sadly. 
 
 "No, it is not that; this comes from an entirely 
 different source. I felt long ago that something 
 dark mysterious lay in Hartmut's life, but I 
 never inquired into it, for he would not suffer the 
 slightest touch on this point, and he kept silent per- 
 sistently. It is as if he stands under a doom, which 
 gives him no peace or rest anywhere, and which 
 springs upon him suddenly when one thinks it 
 buried and forgotten, J received tbis impression
 
 332 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 anew when he took leave of me in wild agitation ; it 
 was impossible to hold him. But you cannot 
 imagine how I miss him ! He has spoiled me with 
 his presence for over two years and with all the ad- 
 vantages of his rich, fiery nature which he gave lav- 
 ishly. Now everything has become desolate and 
 colorless to me, and I do not know at times how I 
 can bear life without him." 
 
 They came to a standstill, for they had reached 
 the limit of the park. Green meadows lay before 
 them in the sunlight, and over yonder rose the 
 heights of the forest mountains. Adelaide had list- 
 ened in silence, while her gaze was lost in the far 
 distance ; but now she turned suddenly and stretched 
 out her hand to her companion. 
 
 "I believe you can be a very sacrificing friend, 
 Your Highness. Herr Rojanow ought not to have 
 left you; perhaps you could have saved him from 
 this doom." 
 
 Egon could not believe his senses ; the warmth of 
 the heartfelt tone the eyes in which a tear glim- 
 mered the whole, almost passionate, sympathy 
 with his sorrow surprised as much as it delighted 
 him. He grasped the hand fervently and pressed 
 his lips upon it. 
 
 "If anything can console me for Hartmut's de- 
 parture, it is your sympathy !" he cried. "You will 
 permit me to use the privilege of a neighbor and 
 come occasionally to Ostwalden ? Do not deny me 
 this, as I am so lonely at Rodeck, and I came here 
 only and solely " 
 
 He checked himself suddenly, for he felt that 
 such a confession was not appropriate but an 
 offense, as he saw plainly. 
 
 The young widow withdrew her hand quickly and
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 333 
 
 drew back. It had required only this moment to 
 transform her again into "Aurora." 
 
 "To flee from the heat and noise of a watering 
 place like Ostend," she finished coolly. "You said 
 so, at least, a little while ago, Your Highness." 
 
 "It was a pretext," declared the Prince, gravely. 
 "I left Ostend only to put an end to certain rumors 
 which were connected with my stay there, and 
 which even found their way into the papers. They 
 were positively without foundation so far as I am 
 concerned, I give you my word, Your Excellency." 
 
 He had quickly embraced the opportunity to dis- 
 pel the error which he did not wish to suffer at this 
 place at any price, but the result did not come up to 
 his expectation. Frau von Wallmoden had again 
 wrapped herself up in her old, unapproachable man- 
 ner and made him suffer for his premature haste. 
 
 "Why this solemn explanation, Your Highness? 
 As it was only a rumor, I understand just as fully 
 as your other neighbors that you wish to retain the 
 privilege of choice. But I believe we must return 
 to the castle, as you said that my brother-in-law had 
 come with you, and I should like to see him before 
 he leaves." 
 
 Egon bowed assent, and tried obediently to ac- 
 cept the indifferent and every-day tone by which he 
 was made aware that he should not be anything 
 more here than a "neighbor." He took the first 
 favorable moment at the castle to make his excuses, 
 which were immediately accepted, but not without 
 an invitation to come again had been given, and that 
 was at present the most important thing. 
 
 "Blamed Jiaste!" he muttered as he galloped 
 away. "Now I shall be kept as distant as ever, per- 
 haps for weeks. As soon as one tries to approach
 
 334 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the woman a little nearer the ice stares into one's 
 face. But" and here the face of the Prince lit up 
 "but at last the ice commences to melt. I saw 
 and felt it in that tone and look. I must be patient 
 here the prize is worthy one's perseverance." 
 
 Egon von Adelsberg did not dream that this look 
 and tone, upon which he built his hopes, were for 
 another, and that she wished only to hear from that 
 other when the permission to call again had been 
 given.
 
 CHAPTER XLVI. 
 
 JULY had only half gone when the world, which 
 seemed but now to repose in deepest calm, was sud- 
 denly startled from this peace. A lightning had 
 flamed up on the Rhine, the glare and uncanny light 
 of which reached from ocean to the Alps. A war- 
 cloud stood heavy and threatening in the west, and 
 soon the cry of war resounded through the land. 
 
 It broke over Southern Germany like a whirlwind 
 tore men from their field of action, changed all 
 conditions and overthrew all plans. Where a week 
 ago comfort and security reigned, men were now 
 grasped and carried away by storm. 
 
 At Furstenstein the daughter of the house was 
 celebrating her betrothal, but she had to take leave 
 of her betrothed, who hastened to his regiment. 
 
 At Waldhofen, where Willibald was expected for 
 a long visit, he appeared suddenly in stormy haste 
 to see Marietta once more in the few days which 
 remained before he, too, should be called away. 
 
 At Ostwalden, Adelaide prepared for departure, 
 to once more embrace the brother who had hastened 
 to join the standard. 
 
 Prince Adelsberg had left Rodeck at the first 
 news of war, and hurried to the Residenz, which he 
 reached at the same hour as the Duke. The world 
 seemed all at once to have gotten an entirely 
 changed face, and the people with it. 
 
 In the little garden of Dr. Volkmar's house stood 
 
 335
 
 336 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Willibald von Eschenhagen, talking earnestly and 
 impressively with the grandfather of his fiancee, 
 who sat before him upon a bench, and did not seem 
 to be acquiescent to what Willy was explaining. 
 
 "But, my dear Willy, this is precipitation with- 
 out an equal," the good doctor said, shaking his 
 head. "Your engagement with Marietta has not 
 yet been made public, and now you want to be mar- 
 ried heels over head. What will the world say 
 to it?" 
 
 "The world finds everything explained under the 
 present circumstances," returned Willibald; "and 
 we cannot go after outside considerations. I have 
 to go to war, and it is my duty to secure Marietta's 
 future in any case. I cannot bear the thought that 
 she should have to return to the stage after my 
 death, or should be dependent upon my mother's 
 mercy. The fortune to which I am heir is in my 
 mother's hands, who disposes of it exclusively. I 
 possess as yet only the entailed estates which, in 
 case I die, go over to a side branch of the family; 
 but our family law secures the widow of the lord of 
 the estates a rich dowry. If it should not be 
 granted me to return from battle, I want to give my 
 fiancee at least the name and position in life to 
 which she has a right. I cannot go to the war con- 
 tentedly until this has been arranged first." 
 
 He spoke quietly, but with much decision. The 
 awkward, timid Willibald could not be recognized 
 in this young man, who overlooked the situation so 
 clearly and pleaded so earnestly for his wishes to be 
 granted. 
 
 He had had, however, a school of independence 
 in those last six months, when he had been put en- 
 tirely upon his own resources, and had his firmness
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 337 
 
 continually tried in the contest with his mother ; and 
 one could see that he had learned something in this 
 school. 
 
 His outward appearance was also more prepos- 
 sessing; in fact, as the Chief Forester expressed it, 
 he had only now become a man. 
 
 Dr. Volkmar could not resist these arguments. 
 He well knew that if the war took away her be- 
 trothed, Marietta would again be without means 
 and without protection ; and a burden fell from his 
 heart at the thought of her secure future. There- 
 fore he gave up all argument and only asked: 
 "What does Marietta say to it ? Has she given her 
 consent ?" 
 
 "Yes; we decided on it last night, directly after 
 my arrival. Of course, I did not speak to her about 
 security and widowhood, for she would have been 
 beside herself if I had dwelt at length upon the 
 case of my death ; but I told her that in case of my 
 being wounded, she, as my wife, could hasten to me 
 without preliminaries or companions, and could re- 
 main with me, and this decided her. We should 
 have had but a quiet wedding, anyway." 
 
 His face clouded at the last words, and the doctor 
 said, with a sigh : "Yes, indeed, none of us would 
 have been inclined to celebrate the wedding with 
 festivities if the couple had to go to the altar with- 
 out the blessing of the mother. Have you really 
 tried every way with her, Willy?" 
 
 "Everything," replied the young 1 lord, solemnly. 
 "Do you think it will be easy for me to miss my 
 mother on such a day? But she has left me no 
 choice, therefore I must bear it. I shall now take 
 the necessary steps instantly, and in anticipation 
 thereof have brought my papers with me."
 
 338 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "And do you believe that a marriage can be pos- 
 sible on such short notice?" asked the doctor, 
 doubtfully. 
 
 "At this time, yes. The formalities have been 
 reduced to the necessities, and all preliminaries are 
 dispensed with where a hasty marriage is desired. 
 As soon as Marietta is my wife, she will accompany 
 me to Berlin, where she will remain until my regi- 
 ment leaves. Then she will return to you until the 
 close of the war." 
 
 Volkmar arose and gave Willibald his hand. 
 
 "You are right; it is perhaps best so under the 
 present circumstances. Well, my little singvogel, 
 so you will really marry as quickly as your be- 
 trothed wishes?" 
 
 The question was addressed to Marietta, who 
 now entered the garden. Her pale cheeks showed 
 the trace of tears, but it was with an exceedingly 
 happy look that she flew into Willibald's open arms. 
 "I am ready at any time, grandpapa," she said, 
 simply. "The leave-taking will be easier to us after 
 we belong to each other and you give your 
 blessing." 
 
 The old gentleman looked half sadly, half happily 
 upon the young couple, who wished to be united be- 
 fore their sad separation should so quickly take 
 place. Then he said, with emotion : "Well, so be it: 
 marry then with my blessing. I give it to you from 
 my inmost heart." 
 
 Everything necessary was then quickly discussed. 
 The marriage was to take place as soon as possible, 
 and, of course, quietly and simply. Willibald in- 
 tended to go to Furstenstein to-day to notify the 
 Chief Forester of the settled plan. 
 
 Dr. Volkmar left them to make a call upon a
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 339 
 
 patient, and Willibald remained alone with his 
 fiancee. They had not seen each other for so long, 
 and now the future lay dark and threatening before 
 them. But the next few days belonged to them, and 
 they were happy in this thought, in spite of every- 
 thing.
 
 CHAPTER XLVII. 
 
 ENGAGED in their subdued chatting, they did not 
 notice that the house door was opened, and some 
 one came with slow, rather hesitating steps along 
 the hall, until the rustle of a woman's dress upon the 
 gravel path made them listen, and suddenly both 
 sprang to their feet. 
 
 "My mother!" cried Willibald, in joyful sur- 
 prise; but at the same time he put his arm around 
 Marietta as if he wished to protect her from a re- 
 newed attack, for Frau von Eschenhagen's face 
 seemed hard and gloomy, and her bearing did not 
 look like reconciliation. 
 
 Without noticing the young girl, she turned to 
 her son: 
 
 "I learned through Adelaide that you were here," 
 she began in a rather harsh tone, "and I only 
 wanted to ask how everything is at Burgsdorf. 
 Have you looked for a steward during your ab- 
 sence? One does not know how long the war will 
 last?" 
 
 The joyous expression on the face of the young 
 lord vanished. He had really hoped for a different 
 greeting at this unexpected appearance of his 
 mother. 
 
 "I have arranged everything to the best of my 
 ability," he replied. "The greater part of my peo- 
 ple have been called to enlist ; even the inspector has 
 to leave in a few days, and a substitute cannot be 
 
 340
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 341 
 
 had now. Work must therefore be reduced to the 
 necessities, and old Martens will overlook every- 
 thing." 
 
 "Martens is a goose," said Regine, in her old, 
 terse way. "If he takes the reins, everything at 
 Burgsdorf will go topsy-turvy. Nothing else is left 
 for me to do but to go there myself and look after 
 things right." 
 
 "How? You would?" cried Willibald. But his 
 mother cut him short. 
 
 "Do you think I would let your possessions go to 
 nothing while you are in the war? It will be se- 
 curely cared for in my hands you know that. I 
 have held the reins there long enough and will do it 
 again until you return." 
 
 She still spoke in the hard, cold tones, as if she 
 wished to exclude every warmer feeling. But now 
 Willy stepped up to her, with his arm still around 
 his bride-elect. 
 
 "You will take care of my worldly possessions, 
 mamma," he said, reproachfully; "you will take 
 them under your protection. But for the best and 
 dearest thing that belongs to me you have no word 
 nor look. Have you really only come to tell me 
 that you will go to Burgsdorf?" 
 
 Fran von Eschenhagen's harsh reticence could 
 not hold fast at this question. Her lips trembled. 
 
 "I came to see my only son once more before he 
 goes to war perhaps to death," she said, with pain- 
 ful bitterness. "I had to hear from others that he 
 had come to say farewell to his bride. He did not 
 come to his mother, and that that I could not 
 bear." 
 
 "We should* have come," cried the young lord; 
 "we should have made one more attempt to win
 
 342 TE StGtf OF FLAME. 
 
 your heart before leaving. See, mother, here is my 
 bride-elect my Marietta. She is waiting for a 
 friendly word from you." 
 
 Regine threw a long look upon the young couple, 
 and again her face quivered painfully as she saw 
 how Marietta pressed shyly, but confidently, to the 
 man in whose protection she knew herself so secure. 
 Maternal jealousy stood a last, hard struggle; but 
 finally she allowed herself to be conquered. She 
 stretched out her hand to the young girl. 
 
 "I offended you once, Marietta," she said, in a 
 half-stifled voice, "and did you a possible wrong 
 that time ; but for that you have taken from me my 
 boy, who, until then, had not loved anybody but his 
 mother, and who now loves nobody but you. I be- 
 lieve we are quits." 
 
 "Oh, Willy loves his mother as dearly as ever," 
 Marietta said heartily. "I best know how he has 
 suffered under the separation." 
 
 "So? Well, we will have to agree with each 
 other for his sake," said Regine, with an attempt at 
 playfulness, which did not quite succeed. "We 
 shall be in a great deal of anxiety about him soon, 
 when we know him in the battlefield ; care, anxiety, 
 will be plentiful then. What do you think, my 
 child? I believe we could bear it easier if we worry 
 about him together." 
 
 She opened her arms, and the next second Mari- 
 etta lay sobbing upon her breast. Tears glittered 
 also in the eyes of the mother when she bent down 
 to kiss her future daughter-in-law; but then she 
 said in the old, commanding tone: "Do not cry; 
 hold up your head, Marietta, for a soldier's fiancee 
 must be brave remember that." 
 
 "A soldier's wife," corrected Willibald, who
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 343 
 
 stood by with beaming eyes. "We have just now 
 decided to be married before I leave." 
 
 "Well, then, Marietta really belongs to Burgs- 
 dorf," declared Regine, who was hardly surprised, 
 and seemed to find this decision quite in order. "No 
 arguments, child. The young Frau von Eschen- 
 hagen has nothing to do further at Waldhofen, ex- 
 cept as she comes for a visit to her grandfather. 
 Or are you perhaps afraid of your grim mother-in- 
 law? But I believe you have in him" she pointed 
 to her son "a sufficient protection, even if he is not 
 at home. He would be capable of declaring war 
 upon his own mother if she did not bear his little 
 wife upon her hands." 
 
 "And she will do that, I know it. When my 
 mother opens her heart, she does it perfectly." 
 
 "Yes, now you can flatter," Frau von Eschen- 
 hagen said, with a rebuking glance. "So you go 
 with me to your future home, Marietta. You need 
 not worry about the duties; I will attend to that. 
 When I go away again it will be different ; but I see 
 already that Willy will hold you like a princess all 
 your life long. It is right with me, just so he re- 
 turns to us safe and sound." 
 
 She reached out her hands now to her son, and 
 those two had perhaps never been in a closer or 
 more loving embrace than to-day. 
 
 When the three entered the house, a quarter of an 
 hour later, they met the Chief Forester, who ac- 
 tually started back at the sight of his sister-in-law. 
 Regine marked his surprise with the liveliest satis- 
 faction. 
 
 "Well, Moritz, am I still the most unreasonable, 
 obstinate person?" she asked, offering her hand. 
 But Schonan, who had not recovered from his jilt-
 
 344 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 ing, kept his behind him, and muttered something 
 incomprehensible. Then he turned to the young 
 couple : 
 
 "So? And now you are to be married in hot 
 haste. I met Dr. Volkmar just now and he told me 
 about it; so I came to offer myself as best man. 
 But perhaps that will not be acceptable, since the 
 Frau Mamma is at her post." 
 
 "Oh, you are just as cordially welcome, uncle," 
 cried Willibald. 
 
 "Well, yes, I can just be used as a secondary per- 
 son in a marriage," grumbled the Chief Forester, 
 with a reproachful glance at Regine. "And so there 
 will be a marriage before the war? One must say, 
 Willy, you have marched with seven-league boots 
 from your practical Burgsdorf into romance, and I 
 should never have looked for it in you. However, 
 my Toni is just as intent upon romance. She and 
 Waldorf would have liked best to marry like this in 
 steaming haste before marching orders came, but I 
 have vetoed that, for circumstances are different 
 with us, and I do not care to already sit at home, 
 lonely as an owl." 
 
 He glanced again with the very grimmest expres- 
 sion at Frau von Eschenhagen, but she approached 
 him now, and said, cordially : "Do not bear malice, 
 Moritz. So far we have always made up again. 
 Let us forget this quarrel also. You see, at least, 
 that I can say 'Yes' for once, when the whole happi- 
 ness of my boy depends upon it." 
 
 The Chief Forester hesitated a moment longer, 
 then grasped the offered hand and pressed it cor- 
 dially. "I see it," he acknowledged, "and perhaps 
 you will now forget altogether that blamed 'No,' 
 Regine, about another point."
 
 CHAPTER XLVIII. 
 
 THE Steward of Rodeck stood in the study of 
 Prince Adelsberg's palace, in the Residenz. He 
 had been called there to receive various orders and 
 plans before the departure of his young lord. 
 
 Egon, who already wore the uniform of his regi- 
 ment, had given him verbal instructions, and now 
 dismissed the old man. 
 
 "Keep the old forest nook in good order for me 
 as heretofore," he concluded. "It is just possible 
 that I may go to Rodeck for a few hours before I 
 leave, but I hardly believe so, for the order to march 
 may come any day. How do I please you in my 
 uniform?" 
 
 He arose and drew himself up to his full height. 
 The slender, youthful form looked well in the uni- 
 form of a lieutenant, and Stadinger measured him 
 with admiring eyes. 
 
 "Real splendid !" he assured the Prince. "It is a 
 pity that Your Highness is not a soldier by pro- 
 fession." 
 
 "Do you think so? Well, I am one now, body 
 and soul. Service in the field will come rather hard 
 to me, and I will have to get used to it first. But it 
 does not hurt when one is under strict discipline." 
 
 "No, Your Highness, it will not hurt you at all," 
 remarked Stadinger, with his terrible truthfulness. 
 "When Your Highness travels about for years in 
 the Orient with a great sea serpent and a whole herd 
 
 345
 
 346 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 of elephants, or when you run away from the most 
 gracious Court at Ostend because you do not want 
 to marry at all nothing comes of that but 
 only " 
 
 "But only stupidity," completed the Prince, 
 wisely. "Stadinger, I shall severely miss one thing 
 in the campaign your boundless tiresomeness. 
 You want to give me a last curtain lecture I see it 
 in your face but will spare you the trouble. Re- 
 member me rather to Lena when you get home. Is 
 she back at Rodeck now ?" 
 
 "Yes, Your Highness, now she is there," said the 
 old man, with heavy emphasis. 
 
 "Of course, because I march to France. But be 
 content ; I shall return a genuine model of sense and 
 virtue, and then then I shall marry, too." 
 
 "Really?" Stadinger cried in joyful surprise. 
 "How glad the most gracious Court will be." 
 
 "That depends," teased Egon. "I may terrorize 
 the most gracious Court with my engagement, and 
 perhaps inflict cramps upon my most gracious Aunt 
 Sophie with it. Don't look so stupid at this, Stad- 
 inger. You don't understand it, but I will permit 
 you to crack your head over it during the campaign. 
 But now go, and if we should not see each other 
 again keep your master in pleasant remembrance." 
 
 Stadinger's face took on the grimmest of wrin- 
 kles to hide the upwelling tears, but he could not 
 succeed. 
 
 "How can Your Highness talk like that?" he 
 muttered. "Shall I, an old man, remain perhaps 
 alone in this world, and not see you any more so 
 handsome so young and happy! I could not live 
 at that." 
 
 "And I have vexed you so much, old Waldgeist,"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 347 
 
 said the young Prince, giving him his hand; "but 
 you are right we must think of victory and not 
 death. But, when both come together, then death 
 is easy." 
 
 The old man bent over his master's hand, and a 
 tear fell upon it. 
 
 "I wish I could go, too," he said, under his 
 breath. 
 
 "I believe it," laughed Egon ; "and you would not 
 look bad as a soldier, in spite of your snow-white 
 hair. But we younger ones have to march now, 
 and you old ones remain at home. Farewell, Stad- 
 
 inger " He shook his hand cordially. "I 
 
 really believe you are crying. You ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself. Away with tears and sad 
 anticipations. You will yet read me another 
 lecture." 
 
 "May God grant it!" sighed Peter Stadinger, 
 from the depths of his heart. With wet eyes he 
 looked once more into the youthful face, so full of 
 life, smiling at him, so happy and sure of victory. 
 Then he left sadly, with bowed head, realizing 
 how much his young master had grown into his 
 heart. 
 
 The Prince cast a glance at the clock. He was 
 to go to his superior, but saw that he had almost an 
 hour yet, so he reached for the newspapers and 
 plunged into the newest dispatches and reports. 
 
 A rapid footstep sounded in the ante-room. 
 Egon looked up in surprise. Servants were not in 
 the habit of making such a noise, and callers were 
 always announced. But this caller did not need any 
 announcing^ as all the servants knew. All doors 
 were open to him in the house of Prince Adelsberg. 
 
 "Hartmut, is it you?"
 
 348 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Egon sprang to his feet in joyful surprise, and 
 cast himself on the breast of the newcomer. 
 
 "You back in Germany, and I have no idea of it ! 
 You wicked monster, to leave me for fully two 
 months without news of you! Have you come to 
 say good-by to me ?" 
 
 Hartmut had neither returned the greeting nor 
 the stormy embrace. Silently and gloomily he suf- 
 fered both, and when he spoke at last, even his tone 
 betrayed nothing of the joy of this Wiedersehen. 
 
 "I came straight from the depot. I hardly dared 
 hope to find you still here, and yet everything de- 
 pends upon it for me." 
 
 "But why did you not announce your return to 
 me ? I wrote you immediately after the declaration 
 of war. You were still in Sicily then, were you 
 not?" 
 
 "No ; I left there as soon as war seemed unavoid- 
 able, and did not receive your letter. I have been 
 in Germany a week." 
 
 "And you come to me only now?" said Egon, re- 
 proachfully. 
 
 Rojanow did not notice this reproach. His eyes 
 rested upon his friend's uniform with almost a jeal- 
 ous expression. 
 
 "You are already on duty, I see," he said, hastily. 
 "I also intend to enter the German army." 
 
 Egon evidently expected something entirely dif- 
 ferent. He retreated a step in boundless surprise. 
 
 "In the German army? You a Roumanian?" 
 
 "Yes, and therefore I have come to you. Will 
 you make it possible for me ?" 
 
 "I?" asked the Prince, whose surprise grew 
 greater and greater. "I am nothing more than a 
 young officer. If you are really in earnest in this
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 349 
 
 strange resolve, you must go to one of the standing 
 posts of command." 
 
 "I have already done that at various places. I 
 have tried it even in your neighboring state, but 
 they will not accept the stranger. They demand all 
 sorts of papers and references, which I do not pos- 
 sess, and torture me with endless questions. Every- 
 where suspicion and mistrust affront me. Nobody 
 will understand my resolve." 
 
 "To speak the truth, Hartmut, I don't under- 
 stand it, either," said Egon, solemnly. "You have 
 always showed such a deep antipathy to Germany 
 you are the son of a country whose higher circles 
 know only French education and customs which 
 stands in sympathy exclusively with France. The 
 mistrust of strangers is easily understood. But 
 why do you not turn directly to the Duke, and per- 
 sonally accomplish your desires? You know how 
 prepossessed he is with the poet of 'Arivana.' It 
 will cost you only an audience, which will be 
 granted you at any time, and an order from him 
 will remove every difficulty and admit every ex- 
 ception." 
 
 Rojanow's glance fell, and his clouded brow grew 
 darker as he replied : "I know that, but I cannot ask 
 anything from that side. The Duke would put the 
 same questions as all the rest, and I could not with- 
 hold the answer from him, and the truth I cannot 
 tell it to him." 
 
 "Not even to me?" asked the Prince, stepping up 
 to him and laying his hand on Hartmut's shoulder. 
 "Why do you insist so persistently upon entering 
 our army ? v What do you look for under our 
 colors ?" 
 
 Hartmut passed his hand across his brow, as if
 
 350 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 to wipe something away from there. Then he re- 
 plied, heavily and huskily : 
 
 "Salvation or death." 
 
 "You return as you went a puzzle," said Egon, 
 shaking his head. "You have hitherto refused 
 every explanation. Can I not now learn your 
 secret ?" 
 
 "Obtain me an entrance into your army, and I 
 will tell you everything," Rojanow cried in feverish 
 excitement. "No matter under what conditions, 
 only see that it is granted me. But do not speak to 
 the Duke nor to a general, but turn to one of the 
 lower commanders. Your name, your relationship 
 with the reigning house makes your word powerful. 
 They will not answer Prince Adelsberg with a 'No' 
 when he himself speaks for a volunteer." 
 
 "But the same question will be put to him as to 
 you you, a Roumanian." 
 
 "No, no," cried Hartmut, passionately. "If I 
 must confess it to you I am a German." 
 
 The effect of this disclosure was not as great as 
 Hartmut might have feared. The Prince looked at 
 him for a moment, amazed. 
 
 "I have thought so at times, for the one who 
 could compose an Arivana in the German language 
 did not get this language by education, but had 
 grown up with it. But you bear the name Ro- 
 janow " 
 
 "The name of my mother, who belonged to a 
 Roumanian Bojar's family. My name is Hart- 
 mut von Falkenried." 
 
 His own name sounded strange in his ears, for 
 he had not pronounced it for years ; but Egon grew 
 attentive at the name. 
 
 "Falkenried? That was the name of the Prus-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 351 
 
 sian Colonel who came on that secret mission from 
 Berlin. Are you any connection of his?" 
 
 "He is my father." 
 
 The young Prince looked compassionately upon 
 his friend, for he saw how terribly hard this confes- 
 sion came to him. He felt that a family drama was 
 hidden here, and, too delicate to investigate further, 
 he only asked : "And you do not want to proclaim 
 yourself the son of your father, not a Falkenried? 
 Every Prussian regiment would be open to you 
 then." 
 
 "No, they would be closed to me forever. I fled 
 from the cadets' school ten years ago." 
 
 "Hartmut!" Absolute terror was in the ex- 
 clamation. 
 
 "Do you also, like my father, consider me worthy 
 of death for it ? You, of course, have grown up in 
 freedom and have no conception of the iron rule 
 which reigns in these institutions; of the tyranny 
 with which one is bent under the yoke of blind 
 obedience. I could not stand it. I was forced to 
 freedom and light. I begged entreated my father 
 but in vain. He held me fast in the chain when 
 I broke it, and fled with my mother." 
 
 He uttered this, all with wild, desperate defiance ; 
 but his eyes rested anxiously upon the face of his 
 listener. His father, with his severe ideas of honor, 
 had sentenced him; but his friend, who idolized 
 him, who in passionate enthusiasm admired his 
 genius and all that he did he must understand the 
 necessity of his step. But this friend was silent, 
 and in this silence lay the sentence.
 
 CHAPTER XLIX. 
 
 "You too, Egon?" 
 
 In the tone of the questioner who waited several 
 minutes in vain for an answer, there lay deep bitter- 
 ness. "And you too, Egon, who have so often told 
 me that nothing should hamper the flight of the 
 poet; that he must break the fetters which would 
 hold him to the ground. I did that and you 
 would have done the same." 
 
 The Prince drew himself up with the firmness 'of 
 decision. 
 
 "No, Hartmut; you are mistaken there. Per- 
 haps I should have fled from a strict school, but 
 from the colors never !" 
 
 Here it was again the harsh words which he 
 had already heard once before "fled from the col- 
 ors." It forced the blood to his brow again. 
 
 "Why did you not become an officer?" continued 
 Egon. "You could have become one early at your 
 home; you could have taken your leave then at an 
 age when life only commences. Then you would 
 have been free honorably." 
 
 Hartmut was silent. His father had told him 
 the same, but he had not wanted to wait and submit 
 himself to rules. A barrier had stood in his way, 
 and he simply threw it down unconcernedly. But 
 he threw down duty and honor with it. 
 
 "You do not know all that stormed upon me at 
 that time," he replied, heavily. "My mother I 
 
 352
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 353 
 
 do not wish to accuse her but she has been my 
 doom. My father had separated from her in early 
 life. I thought her dead, when suddenly she en- 
 tered my life and snatched me to her with her burn- 
 ing mother love with her promise of freedom and 
 happiness. She alone is responsible for that unfor- 
 tunate breaking of my word " 
 
 "What word?" interrupted Egon, excitedly. 
 "Had you sworn to the standard?" 
 
 "No, but I had given my father my word to re- 
 turn when he allowed me the last conversation with 
 my mother " 
 
 "Instead of which you fled with her?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 The answer was almost inaudible and was fol- 
 lowed by a long pause. The Prince spoke never a 
 word; but in his open, sunny face deep, bitter pain 
 was depicted the bitterest of his life, for at this 
 moment he lost his so passionately loved friend. 
 
 At last Hartmut resumed, but he did not raise his 
 eyes. "You understand now why I want to force 
 an entrance into the army at any price. Now that 
 war has broken out, the man can atone for the boy's 
 sin. Therefore I left Sicily immediately after the 
 first threatening news, and flew as in a storm to 
 Germany. I hoped to be able to hasten to arms. I 
 had no idea of all the difficulties and hindrances 
 which would be put in my way. But you can put 
 them aside, if you intercede for me." 
 
 "No, I cannot do that," said Egon, coldly. 
 "After what I have heard just now, this is impos- 
 sible." 
 
 Hartmut turned deathly white and stepped up 
 close to Egon with a vehement gesture. 
 
 "You cannot? That means you will nqt?"
 
 354 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 The Prince was silent. 
 
 "Egon !" Wild, stormy entreaty was in the tone. 
 "You know I have never made a request of you 
 this is the first and last one. But now I beg en- 
 treat you for this friendly service. It is the relief 
 from the doom which has hung over me since that 
 hour. The reconciliation with my father the 
 reconciliation with myself you must help me!" 
 
 "I cannot," repeated the Prince. "The rejection 
 to which you have been subjected may hurt you 
 deeply I believe it but it is only just. You have 
 broken with your fatherland with your duties 
 and that cannot be mended so easily without any- 
 thing further, when one has become of a different 
 opinion. You fled from the service of our standard 
 you, the son of an officer! Now the army is 
 closed to you, and you must bear it." 
 
 "And you tell me that so calmly so coldly!" 
 cried Hartmut, beside himself. "Do you not see 
 that it is a question of life or death to me? I saw 
 my father again that day at Rodeck, when he hast- 
 ened to the deathbed of Wallmoden. He crushed 
 me with his contempt with the awful words he 
 threw into my face. It was that which drove me 
 away from Germany, which chased me ceaselessly 
 from place to place. His words went with me and 
 made life a hell to me. I have greeted the war cry 
 as a deliverance. I want to fight for the fatherland 
 which I once cast from me, and now the door which 
 is open to every one is closed to me alone. Egon, 
 you turn from me ! Oh there is only one way left 
 forme!" 
 
 With a sudden, passionate motion he turned to 
 the table, where the Prince's pistols were lying; but 
 the Prince sprang at him and tore him back.
 
 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 355 
 
 "Hartmut, are you out of your senses?" 
 
 "Perhaps I shall be so. All of you torture me 
 beyond endurance." 
 
 Boundless despair lay in those words. 
 
 Egon, too, had turned pale, and his voice trem- 
 bled as he said : "Before it goes so far I will try to 
 find an opening in a regiment for you." 
 
 "At last ! I thank you." 
 
 "However, I cannot promise you anything, for 
 the Duke has to be put altogether aside now. Be- 
 sides, he leaves to-morrow for the battlefield. 
 Should he learn later on that you serve in his corps, 
 we shall then be in the midst of the storm of war, 
 and one does not ask 'How' and 'Why' in the face 
 of a completed fact. But it may take days before 
 the decision arrives. Will you be my guest?" 
 
 Formerly the Prince would have accepted that as 
 only natural and would have been exasperated if 
 his friend had refused; now he made the inquiry, 
 and Hartmut felt what lay in the cold question. 
 
 "No, I shall not remain in town," he replied. "I 
 shall go to the Forester at Rodeck, and I beg that 
 you will send your answer there. I can return here 
 in a few hours." 
 
 "As you wish. Then you will not go to the 
 castle?" 
 
 Hartmut gazed at him with a long, sad look. 
 
 "No; to the Forester's. Farewell, Egon." 
 
 "Farewell." 
 
 They parted without a pressure of the hand, with- 
 out a further word, and when the door closed be- 
 hind him, Hartmut knew that he had lost the friend 
 who had idolized him. Judged here, too and cast 
 out ! He had to atone terribly for the old guilt.
 
 CHAPTER L. 
 
 OVER the Wald hung a dark, cloudy ky, which, 
 from time to time, sent down showers of rain. 
 Gray mists clung around the heights, and storms 
 raged through the crowns of the trees. It was a 
 regular autumn day in the middle of summer. 
 
 The mistress of Ostwalden was alone at her 
 castle. She had received news from her brother 
 that he had already left, and that the meeting 
 planned between them could not take place. There- 
 fore Adelaide had postponed her departure to be 
 present at the marriage of Willibald and Marietta, 
 which was quietly celebrated in the presence of the 
 nearest relatives. 
 
 The young couple had left for Berlin, where Wil- 
 libald was to join his regiment immediately. His 
 young wife wished to remain near him the few days 
 before the order came to march. From there she 
 was to go to Burgsdorf, whither her mother-in-law 
 had preceded her. 
 
 The morning hours had not yet passed when 
 Prince Adelsberg drove up to the castle of Ostwal- 
 den. He had asked for leave of absence to-day to 
 "arrange some important matters"; but the im- 
 portant matters did not carry him to Rodeck, 
 but to Ostwalden. He came to say farewell to 
 Adelaide, whom he had not seen since that first 
 visit. 
 
 As his carriage entered the castle yard, they met 
 
 356
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 357 
 
 the priest of the neighboring village with the holy 
 sacrament, and attendant chorister. Apparently 
 the last rites had been administered to one seriously 
 ill. The Prince inquired to whom the sad visit had 
 been paid, and learned that it was to one of the in- 
 spectors of the estate, and that the mistress of the 
 castle was at present with the dying man; but the 
 guest should be announced to her instantly. 
 
 Egon restlessly paced up and down the reception 
 room, into which he had been shown. He had 
 come here to obtain an assurance, without which he 
 did not feel able to march into a campaign of life or 
 death; and the uncertainty with which such a cam- 
 paign was ever taken, must serve as apology for 
 thus approaching a young widow still in deep 
 mourning. It need not yet be a proposal. He 
 wanted to take with him only a hope the promise 
 of which had risen so brightly at their last meeting, 
 when Adelaide had shown such warm interest in his 
 sorrow about his absent friend. He did not dream 
 that he had made a fatal mistake. Still, in spite of 
 this, a deep shadow rested upon the face of the 
 Prince, usually so cheerful. It was not the leave- 
 taking which gave him pain, for he went to the bat- 
 tlefield with glowing enthusiasm and the happy 
 faith of youth, which dreams only of victory, and 
 rejects all dark prospects. Besides, he dreamed of 
 another happiness in the future, which he wished to 
 secure now. 
 
 The door opened to admit Frau von Wallmoden. 
 
 "I beg your pardon for detaining you so long, 
 Your Highness," she said, after the first greetings. 
 "It was probably told you that I was beside a death- 
 bed?" 
 
 "I learned so upon my arrival," replied Egon,
 
 358 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 who had hastened to meet her. "Is the case really 
 so serious?" 
 
 "Alas, yes ! poor Tanner ! He used to be tutor in 
 a family in the neighborhood, but had to give up his 
 position on account of a serious illness. At the re- 
 quest of the Chief Forester, I gave him employment 
 in cataloguing my husband's library, which had been 
 sent to Ostwalden, and it was hoped that he would 
 quite recover in the easy office and the invigorating 
 forest air. He was so grateful for it, and told me 
 only yesterday how happy his mother was that he 
 should be excused from military service, on account 
 of not being yet quite well. But suddenly this 
 morning he had a hemorrhage, and the physician 
 tells me that he can live but an hour longer. It is 
 awful to see a young life bleed to death like that !" 
 
 "And yet this will happen to thousands in the 
 next few weeks," said Egon, gravely. "Have you 
 been with the poor man?" 
 
 "Yes, at his request. He knew how it was with 
 him, and wished to lay a prayer upon my heart for 
 his old mother, who loses in him her only support. 
 I have calmed his mind on that subject, but it was 
 all I could do for him " 
 
 One could see how deeply the scene at the death- 
 bed had impressed the young widow, and Egon, too, 
 felt deep compassion at the narrative. 
 
 "I come to say farewell," he said, after a short 
 pause. "We march the day after to-morrow, and 
 I could not deny myself a visit to you once more. 
 I am happy to have found you here, as I understand 
 you intend leaving soon." 
 
 "Yes, for Berlin. Lonely Ostwalden is so far 
 remote, and in this time of feverish expectation one 
 wishes to be as near the centre of communications
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 359 
 
 and connections as possible. I am anxious about 
 my brother, who has joined the standard." 
 
 Again a pause ensued, and the Prince was about 
 to break it with expression of what lay so near his 
 heart, when Frau von Wallmoden anticipated him 
 with a question, asked with apparent indifference, 
 but in a voice which trembled slightly : 
 
 "You were in much anxiety about the non-arrival 
 of news of your friend at your last visit, Your 
 Highness. Have you heard from him yet?" 
 
 Egon's eyes fell, and the shadow which had been 
 dispelled during the conversation returned, heavily 
 and gloomily, to his face. 
 
 "Yes," he replied, coldly. "Rojanow is back in 
 Germany." 
 
 "Since the declaration of war?" 
 
 "Yes, he came " 
 
 "To join the army! Oh, I knew it!" 
 
 The Prince looked at her amazed. 
 
 "You knew it, Your Excellency? I thought you 
 had known Hartmut as a Roumanian only, and 
 through me." 
 
 A deep blush suffused the cheeks of the young 
 Frau von Wallmoden. She felt the exclamation 
 had been a betrayal, but she quickly regained com- 
 posure. "I became acquainted with Herr Rojanow 
 last fall, when he was your guest at Rodeck," she 
 answered, composedly; "but I have known his 
 
 father for long years, and he I suppose your 
 
 Highness knows all that has happened?" 
 
 "Yes, I know it now," said Egon, with heavy 
 emphasis. 
 
 "Colonel Falkenried was a near friend of my 
 father's and visited our house frequently, although 
 I had never heard of his son. I had considered the
 
 360 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Colonel childless until that awful hour at Rodeck, 
 the day my husband died. Then I learned the 
 truth, and was a witness of a meeting between 
 father and son." 
 
 The Prince breathed a sigh of relief at this ex- 
 planation, which dispelled the disastrous thought 
 ' just dawning upon him. 
 
 "I understand your concern, then," he replied. 
 "Colonel Falkenried is, indeed, to be pitied." 
 
 "He only?" asked Adelaide, struck by the harsh 
 tone of the last words. "And your friend?" 
 
 "I have no friend I have lost him !" cried Egon, 
 with passionate pain. "What he confessed to me 
 two days ago opened an abyss between us, and what 
 I know now parts us forever." 
 
 "You judge the misdemeanor of a seventeen- 
 year-old lad very severely. He must have been 
 only a boy then." 
 
 A deep reproach lay in the words of the young 
 widow; but the Prince shook his head vehemently. 
 
 "I do not speak of that flight and that breaking 
 of his word, although they weigh heavily with the 
 son of an officer. But what I heard yesterday I 
 see you do not yet know the worst, gracious lady, 
 and how should you? Spare me this report." 
 
 Adelaide had turned pale, and her eyes, full of 
 fear, hung fixed upon the speaker.
 
 CHAPTER LI. 
 
 "I BEG of Your Highness," Adelaide commenced 
 again, "to tell me the truth the whole truth. You 
 said that Herr Rojanow had returned to join the 
 army. I had thought he would had expected it 
 for it is the only thing by which he can atone for 
 his old guilt. Has he joined the standard already?" 
 
 "Happily it has not gone so far, and that has 
 spared me a heavy responsibility," said Egon, with 
 supreme bitterness. "He reported to several regi- 
 ments, but was refused everywhere." 
 
 "Refused! But why?" 
 
 "Because he did not dare to confess himself a 
 German, and because a very just suspicion was 
 raised toward the strange Roumanian. One has to 
 be cautious at the present time that no spies may 
 force their way into the ranks of our armies." 
 
 "For God's sake, what do you mean?" cried Ade- 
 laide, who began now to comprehend the situation. 
 
 Egon sprang up in great excitement and drew 
 nearer. 
 
 "If you wish, then, to know it, gracious lady 
 listen. Hartmut came to me and requested me to 
 use my influence to make the entrance into one of 
 our regiments possible to him. I refused at first, 
 but he forced me to consent by a threat which was 
 hardly meant seriously. I kept my word and asked 
 one of our higher officers, whose brother was secre- 
 tary to our embassy at Paris and who had just re- 
 
 361
 
 362 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 turned from there with him. This gentleman was 
 present at our interview. He heard the name, Ro- 
 janow inquired further into the matter and gave 
 me disclosures ; I cannot repeat them. I have loved 
 Hartmut as I have nothing else upon this earth 
 have almost idolized him. I let myself be carried 
 away by the force of his genius, and now I learn 
 that the friend who was everything to me is a mon- 
 ster; that he and his mother did service as spies at 
 Paris. Perhaps he wished to do the same in our 
 army !" 
 
 He covered his eyes with his hand, and there was 
 something awful in the agony of the young man 
 whose idol had been so ruthlessly shattered. 
 
 Adelaide had risen, and the hand with which she 
 leaned upon the back of the chair trembled. 
 
 "And what have you has he answered to 
 that?" 
 
 "Do you mean Rojanow? I have not seen him 
 since and shall not see him again. I shall spare 
 myself and him that much. He is now at the for- 
 estry at Rodeck and awaits my answer there. I 
 have notified him in three lines of what I learned, 
 without adding a remark or a word. He has prob- 
 ably received the letter and will understand it suffi- 
 ciently." 
 
 "Good God! that will drive him to his death," 
 Adelaide burst forth. "How could you do it ! How 
 could you judge the unfortunate one without hear- 
 ing him !" 
 
 "The unfortunate one!" repeated the Prince cut- 
 tingly. "Do you really consider him that?" 
 
 "Yes, for I do not hear these awful accusations 
 for the first time. His father cast them in his face 
 at that meeting."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 363 
 
 "Well, if even his own father accuses him '*' 
 
 "The deeply offended, deeply embittered man! 
 He cannot have an unbiased judgment, but you 
 the friend of Hartmut you, who stood so near 
 him you ought to have stepped in and defended 
 him." 
 
 Egon looked with questioning surprise upon the 
 excited lady. 
 
 "You appear to wish to do so now, Your Excel- 
 lency," he said slowly. "I cannot do it, for there is 
 too much in Hartmut's life which confirms the sus- 
 picion. It explains everything to me that has hith- 
 erto seemed mysterious. These are quite decided 
 facts upon which the accusation is based " 
 
 "Against the mother! She has ever been the 
 doom the ruin of her son; but he did not know 
 the shameful work to which she had fallen ; he lived 
 at her side ignorant of it. I saw how he broke 
 down when his father uttered the awful words 
 how he struggled against it as in a death struggle. 
 That was truth that was the despair of a man who 
 is being punished more deeply than he has trans- 
 gressed. That flight that breaking of his word 
 robs him now of the faith of those who stand 
 nearest to him. But if his father and his friend 
 both so judge him / believe in him! It is not 
 true! He is not guilty!" 
 
 She had drawn herself fully erect in her stormy 
 excitement. Her cheeks glowed ; her eyes sparkled, 
 and her tone and words contained that convincing 
 passion which only love knows when defending the 
 loved one. 
 
 Egon stoo$ there transfixed and looked at her. 
 There it was the awakening, of which he had often 
 dreamed, Fire and life glowed there, now a
 
 364 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 blooming world arose from the ice; but it was an- 
 other who had called it forth. 
 
 "I do not dare to decide as to whether you are 
 right, gracious lady," said the Prince in a toneless 
 voice, after a brief silence. "I only know one thing. 
 Whether Hartmut be guilty or not, he is enviable in 
 this hour." 
 
 Adelaide shrank back; she understood the hint 
 and lowered her head mutely before the reproach- 
 ful glance. 
 
 "I came to say farewell," continued Egon. "I 
 intended to add a question a prayer to this leave- 
 taking, but that is over now. I have only to bid you 
 farewell." 
 
 Adelaide raised her eyes, in which hot tears glis- 
 tened, and offered her hand. 
 
 "Farewell, and may God take you in His care 
 and keeping during the campaign!" 
 
 But Prince Adelsberg shook his head silently. 
 
 "What shall I do with life?" he finally cried in 
 overwhelming sorrow. "I should like best no, do 
 not look at me so entreatingly ! I know now that 
 I made a fatal mistake, and I will not torture you 
 with a confession; but, Adelaide, I would gladly 
 die could I buy with death the look and tone you 
 had just now for another. Farewell !" 
 
 Once more he pressed her hand to his lips, then 
 hastened away.
 
 CHAPTER LII. 
 
 THE storm had increased in violence during the 
 afternoon. It roamed in the forest, dashed among' 
 the open heights and chased the clouds over the sky 
 with increasing wrath. It raged with full force 
 around that forest height which had once witnessed 
 such a significant encounter between two people, but 
 the man who leaned there now alone and lonely at 
 the trunk of a tree did not seem to feel it, for he 
 stood immovable in the midst of it. 
 
 Hartmut's face was deathly pale; a stony, un- 
 natural calm rested upon it, and the sparkle of the 
 eyes had died out, while the hair fell heavy and 
 damp over his brow. The storm had torn his hat 
 from his head ; he had noticed it as little as the rain 
 which drenched him. 
 
 He had found himself at this place after hours of 
 roaming through the forest here, where a remem- 
 brance drew him unconsciously. It was the right 
 place for his purpose. 
 
 The news which had been looked for so feverishly 
 had finally come ; no letter ; nothing but a few lines 
 without any preface, and with only the signature, 
 "Egon Prince Adelsberg." But in these lines 
 there lay annihilation for him who received them. 
 Cast out forever judged by his friend without a 
 hearing! Doom had awfully fulfilled itself in the 
 son of Zalika. 
 
 The crashing' of a. huge limb which broke under 
 
 366
 
 366 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the pressure of the storm and fell whizzing to the 
 ground, aroused Hartmut from his despairing rev- 
 ery. He had not even started at the crash, but 
 slowly turned his glance to the heavy mass which 
 fell close to him. A foot nearer and it would have 
 struck him would perhaps have made an end of all 
 the shame and torture in one moment; but death 
 was not made so easy for him. That blessing came 
 to him only wh6 loved life he who wished to 
 throw it away must do so with his own hand. 
 
 Hartmut took the gun from his shoulder and put 
 the butt to the ground; then he laid his hand upon 
 his breast to find the right place. Once more he 
 glanced up to the veiled skies with their scudding 
 masses of clouds, and down to the little dark forest 
 lake in the deceiving meadow, over which the fog 
 clustered as at that time at home. The beckoning, 
 charming will-o'-the-wisp had appeared to him 
 there ; he had followed the flame of the depths, and 
 now it drew him down hopelessly; there was no 
 further rising into the heights where other, brighter 
 lights shone. A bullet in the heart and everything 
 would be at an end. 
 
 He was about to grasp the trigger when he heard 
 his name called in a tone of deadly anxiety. A 
 slender figure in a dark cloak sprang toward him 
 from the edge of the forest, and the weapon fell 
 from his hand, for he gazed into the face of Ade- 
 laide, who stood trembling before him. 
 
 Moments passed without a word from either. It 
 was Hartmut who recovered first. 
 
 "You here, gracious lady?" he asked with en- 
 forced calmness. "Are you out in the forest in this 
 weather?" 
 
 "I should like to put the same question to you."
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 36? 
 
 "I have been hunting, but the weather is unpro- 
 pitious, and I was about to discharge my gun " 
 
 He did not finish, for the sad, reproachful glance 
 upon him told that the lie was in vain. He broke 
 off and looked gloomily before him. Adelaide, tod, 
 gave up all pretense, and in her voice all her anxiety 
 trembled as she cried : "Herr von Falkenried, what 
 did you intend to do?" 
 
 "What would have now been done had you not 
 interfered," said Hartmut, harshly. "And believe 
 me, gracious lady, it would have been better if coin- 
 cidence had brought you here a few moments later." 
 
 "It was no coincidence. I was at the forestry at 
 Rodeck, and heard that you had been gone for 
 hours. An awful presentiment drove me to look for 
 you here. I was almost sure I should find you 
 here." 
 
 "You looked for me? Me, Ada?" His voice 
 shook at the question. "How did you know that I 
 was at the forestry?" 
 
 "Through Prince Adelsberg, who called to see me 
 this morning. You received a letter from him?" 
 
 "No, only a communication," returned Hartmut 
 with quivering lips. "No single word was directed 
 to me personally in the short lines; they brought 
 only a communication in a business tone which the 
 Prince thought necessary. I fully understood it." 
 
 Adelaide was silent; she had known it would 
 drive him to suicide. Slowly she walked with him 
 under the protection of the trees, for it was hardly 
 possible to keep erect out in the open space in this 
 raging storm, but Hartmut did not seem to feel it. 
 
 "You know the contents of the communication 
 I see that you "do," he commenced again, "and it is 
 not new to you, either. You overheard what hap-
 
 368 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 pened that night at Rodeck, but believe me, Ada, 
 what I felt at that moment when you stood before 
 me in that ghostly glow which shone through that 
 night, and it grew clear to me that I had been 
 ground into the dust before you what I felt might 
 have satisfied even my father's vengeance, might 
 have atoned for all my sin." 
 
 "You do him wrong," replied the young widow 
 solemnly. "You saw him only in the stern, iron 
 inflexibility with which he cast you from him. I 
 saw him differently after you had gone. He broke 
 down there in wild anguish; he then let me look 
 into the heart of a despairing father who loved his 
 son above everything. Have you not made an at- 
 tempt since then to convince him?" 
 
 "No ; he would believe me as little as Egon does. 
 He who has once broken his word, has lost forever 
 their faith, even if he would regain it with his life. 
 Perhaps my death upon the battlefield would have 
 enlightened them, but when I fall now by my own 
 hand they will see in it only the deed of a despair- 
 ing man a guilty one and will despise me even 
 in my grave." 
 
 "Not everybody will do that," said Adelaide low- 
 ly. "I believe in you, Hartmut, in spite of every- 
 thing." 
 
 He looked at her, and through the gloomy hope- 
 lessness of his soul there flamed something of the 
 old fire. 
 
 "You, Ada? And you tell me that upon this spot 
 where you cast me off? You did not know any- 
 thing about me then " 
 
 "And for that reason I shuddered before the man 
 to whom nothing was sacred who recognized no 
 law but his will and his passions; but that winter
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 369 
 
 night, when I saw you at your father's feet, showed 
 me that you fell more through doom than guilt. 
 Since then I have known that you can and must cast 
 that unfortunate inheritance from your mother far 
 from you. Rouse yourself, Hartmut. The road 
 which I then showed you is still open; whether it 
 leads to life or death it leads upward." 
 
 He shook his head gloomily. 
 
 "No, that is past. You have no conception of 
 what my father has done to me with his terrible 
 words. What my life has been since then I but 
 let me be silent about it ; nobody can grasp it ; but I 
 thank you for your faith in me, Ada. Death is 
 made easier to me through that faith." 
 
 The young widow made a quick motion toward 
 the weapon which lay at his feet. 
 
 "For God's sake, no ! You dare not do that !" 
 
 "What am I to do with life?" Hartmut burst 
 forth with terrible vehemence. "My mother has 
 branded me as with a red-hot iron, and this closes to 
 me every way to atonement to salvation. I am 
 cast out from the ranks of my people, where even the 
 poorest peasant can fight; a privilege which is de- 
 nied only to the dishonorable criminal, is denied also 
 to me, for I am nothing else in Egon's eyes. He 
 fears that I might become a traitor a spy to my 
 own brothers!" 
 
 He covered his face with both hands, and the last 
 words died in a sob; then he felt a hand touch his 
 arm gently. 
 
 "The brand is extinguished with the name Ro- 
 janow. Throw that from you, Hartmut; I bring 
 you what you tried in vain to obtain entrance into 
 the army!" 
 
 Hartmut started and gazed at her in unbelief.
 
 370 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Impossible ! How could you " 
 
 "Take these papers," interrupted Adelaide, draw- 
 ing forth a package. "They are made out in the 
 name of Joseph Tanner 29 years old, slender, with 
 dark complexion, black hair and eyes you see 
 everything will suit with these nobody will refuse 
 you an entrance as a volunteer." 
 
 She gave him the papers, around which his right 
 hand closed spasmodically as upon the most precious 
 jewel. 
 
 "And these papers?" he asked, still doubting. 
 
 "Belong to a dead man. They were given me 
 for another purpose, but the deceased has no fur- 
 ther use for them and will pardon me if with them 
 I save a living man." 
 
 Hartmut stormily opened the package. The wind 
 almost tore the sheets from his hand and he was 
 scarcely able to decipher the contents as the young 
 widow continued : 
 
 "Joseph Tanner had a small office at Ostwalden, 
 when seized with a hemorrhage this morning. He 
 had but a few hours to live and gave me his last 
 words and mementos for his mother. The poor 
 woman shall receive everything every letter, every 
 scrap which can be a solace to her, but I have taken 
 the official papers for you. We do not rob any- 
 body in doing this, for they are valueless to the 
 mother to whom they now belong. Perhaps a strict 
 judge would call that deceit, but I gladly shoulder 
 the blame, and God will pardon it, and so will the 
 fatherland." 
 
 Hartmut closed the case and hid it in his breast, 
 which heaved under a deep, deep breath. Then he 
 drew himself up and pushed the rain-soaked locks 
 from the high brow, so like his father's his only
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 371 
 
 inheritance from the Falkenrieds, but which gave 
 him an unmistakable resemblance to them. 
 
 "You are right, Ada," he said. "I cannot thank 
 you in words for what you have done for me. Words 
 have no power, but I shall strive to deserve it." 
 
 "I know that. Farewell and auf iviedersehen!" 
 
 "No, do not wish that," said Hartmut gloomily. 
 "Death in battle can exonerate me to myself, but 
 not to my father or Egon, for they would never 
 hear of it ; and if I remained among the living the 
 old stain would return; but when I fall, tell them 
 who rests under the foreign name. Perhaps then 
 they will believe you and remove the curse from my 
 grave." 
 
 "Do you want to fall?" asked Adelaide with 
 plaintive reproach, "even if I tell you that you sad- 
 den me inexpressibly?"' 
 
 "Sadden you, Ada !" he cried passionately. "Do 
 you no longer shudder at my love at the fate 
 which drew us together? Oh, I might have pos- 
 sessed the highest happiness, for you are free ; but 
 it comes near to me now for only a fleeting mo- 
 ment, and vanishes again into unattainable heights, 
 like the form of the legend who bears your name in 
 my drama. Nevertheless, it has approached me, 
 and I may be permitted for once only to clasp it to 
 me in farewell." 
 
 He drew her to him and pressed a kiss upon the 
 brow of his love, who leaned against him sobbing. 
 
 "Hartmut, promise me that you will not seek 
 death." 
 
 "No ; but it will know how to find me. Farewell, 
 my own Ada/' 
 
 He tore himself away hastily. Adelaide re- 
 mained alone. The storm roared above her headj
 
 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 
 
 the giant crowns of the trees moaned and swayed; 
 the storm sang its wild song on and on, but sud- 
 denly over in the west there flamed a dark-red rent 
 through the clouds. It was only for a brief moment 
 only one solitary ray of the sinking sun, but it 
 shiningly illumined the forest height and the de- 
 parting one, who turned once more and sent back a 
 last greeting. Then the clouds massed together 
 again, and the ray was extinguished.
 
 CHAPTER LIII. 
 
 THE reddish, flickering glow of a wood fire 
 lighted up the interior of a small, isolated house 
 which had formerly served as a dwelling to a station- 
 keeper, but was now pressed into service for the 
 sentinels of the outpost. The room did not bear an 
 expression of cosiness with its bare, smoked walls, 
 low ceiling and small, barricaded windows, but the 
 tremendous logs which flared and burned in the un- 
 couth stone fireplace offered a very welcome warmth, 
 for it was bitterly cold out of doors, and the whole 
 country was buried in the snow of a severe winter. 
 
 The regiment here was hardly better off than 
 their comrades before Paris, although they belonged 
 to the Southern army corps. 
 
 At present two young officers were entering, and 
 the one who still held the door open called laugh- 
 ingly to the one preceding: "Please bend down, 
 Herr Comrade, or you might take our door frame 
 along, for our villa is in rather a dilapidated con- 
 dition, as you see." 
 
 The warning was not without need, for the giant 
 figure of the guest a Prussian Lieutenant of the 
 Reserve was not at all in proportion to the door. 
 Nevertheless, he succeeded in entering safely and 
 looked around at the four walls, while his com- 
 panion, who wore the uniform of a South German 
 regiment, continued : "Permit me to offer you a 
 seat in our 'salon/ which is not so bad considering 
 
 373
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the circumstances. We have already had it worse 
 during- the campaign. So you are looking for 
 Stahlberg ? He is with my comrade out at the post, 
 but will probably return directly. You will have 
 to be patient for a quarter of an hour." 
 
 "With pleasure," assured the Prussian. "I see 
 from that that Eugene's injury is really as slight as 
 he reported. I looked for him in the hospital, and 
 heard that he was making a visit to the outposts, 
 but as we shall probably march on by to-morrow, I 
 did not wish to let this opportunity pass by unim- 
 proved, and therefore came to see him now." 
 
 "His wound was indeed only slight a shot in the 
 arm, which is already far advanced toward healing, 
 but will, nevertheless, disable him for service for a 
 short time. You are a friend of Stahlberg?" 
 
 "Yes, and connected besides through the marriage 
 of his sister. I see that you do not remember me, 
 Your Highness. Let me give you my name Willi- 
 bald von Eschenhagen. We met last year " 
 
 "At Furstenstein," interrupted Egon von Adels- 
 berg quickly. "Certainly, now I remember you per- 
 fectly. It is remarkable how the uniform changes 
 one ; I really did not know you at first." 
 
 He glanced with a half-admiring look at the once 
 awkward country squire who had appeared so ridic- 
 ulous to him, but who now possessed a stately, mili- 
 tary appearance. 
 
 It was not the uniform alone, though, which had 
 changed Willibald so completely. What love had 
 begun the campaign had finished by tearing him 
 from the accustomed surroundings and circum- 
 stances. The young Baron had not only, as his 
 Uncle Schonan expressed it, "become a man," but 
 had developed into a true, genuine man.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 375 
 
 "Our meeting at that time was a brief one," con- 
 tinued the Prince, "but nevertheless you will per- 
 mit me to offer my congratulations? You are be- 
 trothed " 
 
 "1 believe you are under a mistake, Your High- 
 ness," interrupted Willibald with some embarrass- 
 ment. "Although I had been introduced to you at 
 Furstenstein as the future son-in-law of the house, 
 but " 
 
 "That has been changed," finished Egon, smiling. 
 "I knew it, for the comrade of whom I spoke 
 just now is Lieutenant Waldorf, the happy fiance 
 of Baroness Schonan. My words were meant for 
 Fraulein" Marietta Volkmar." 
 
 "At present Frau von Eschenhagen." 
 
 "What! You are already married?" 
 
 "Have been for five months. We were married 
 just before marching orders came, and my wife is 
 now at Burgsdorf with my mother." 
 
 "Then accept my congratulations on your mar- 
 riage. But really, Herr Comrade, I ought to call 
 you to account for the unwarrantable damage you 
 have done to art. Please tell your wife that, as far 
 as I can learn out here in the campaign, the entire 
 Residenz still mourns her loss in sackcloth and 
 ashes." 
 
 "I shall not forget it, although I fear the Resi- 
 denz has not much time for such mourning at pres- 
 ent. Ah, the gentlemen are returning I hear Eu- 
 gene's voice." 
 
 Steps were heard outside and the expected ones 
 entered. Young Stahlberg greeted his relative with 
 an exclamation of the most joyful surprise. He 
 had not seen Willibald during the campaign, al- 
 though both served in the same army corps. He
 
 3?6 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 
 
 still bore his arm in a sling, but otherwise looked 
 well and happy. 
 
 Eugene did not possess the beauty of his sister, 
 and the feature of decided will-power which the 
 daughter had inherited from her father was miss- 
 ing. The son showed a gentle, more conciliatory 
 nature in his appearance as well as demeanor, but 
 still he resembled his sister closely, which might 
 have been the cause of Prince Adelsberg's intimacy 
 with him. 
 
 His companion, a handsome young officer with 
 sparkling, saucy eyes, now approached, and the 
 Prince performed the introduction. 
 
 "I will not fear that the gentlemen will challenge 
 each other when I mention the names," he said, jest- 
 ingly. "They are obliged to be called so then, 
 Herr von Eschenhagen Herr von Waldorf." 
 
 "God forbid! For my part I am peace personi- 
 fied," cried Waldorf gayly. "Herr von Eschen- 
 hagen, I am glad to meet the cousin of my fiancee, 
 and so much more so because he is already in the 
 bonds of holy matrimony. We also would have 
 liked to do as you did marry before the march 
 but my father-in-law put on his grimmest mien and 
 declared, 'Gain victory first and then marry.' Well, 
 we have done the first continually for five months, 
 and as soon as I return home I shall speedily ask 
 for the second." 
 
 He cordially shook the hand of his bride-elect's 
 former fiance, then turned to the Prince. 
 
 "We brought along something for Your High- 
 ness something we seized outside. Orderly of 
 Rodeck, advance to His Highness the Lieutenant, 
 Prince Adelsberg." 
 
 The door opened, and in spite of the gathering
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 37? 
 
 twilight the Prince recognized the wrinkled face and 
 snow-white hair of him who entered. He started. 
 
 "All good spirits defend us! It is Peter Stad- 
 inger !" 
 
 It was, indeed, the live Stadinger who stood be- 
 fore his young master. He did not seem to be 
 wholly a stranger to the others, for although they 
 now saw him for the first time, they greeted his ap- 
 pearance with the liveliest joy. 
 
 "Above everything, let us have light to take a 
 good look at the 'Waldgeist' of His Highness," 
 cried Waldorf, lighting candles and holding them 
 .with comical solemnity close before the old man. 
 
 Egon laughed. 
 
 "You see, Stadinger, what a well-known and fre- 
 quently spoken of person you are here. Now let 
 me introduce you in proper form. Behold here, 
 gentlemen, Peter Stadinger celebrated for his un- 
 equaled churlishness and his moral lectures, which 
 make one quake. He probably thinks I cannot ex- 
 ist without them, and he will doubtless give to me 
 here also upon the battlefield the satisfaction of this 
 friendly habit. I hope that some of it will fall upon 
 your heads, gentlemen and now begin, Stadinger !" 
 
 But the old man, instead of obeying, grasped the 
 hand of his master in both of his and said in a heart- 
 rending tone : "Ach, Your Highness, how we have 
 trembled and feared for you at Rodeck !" 
 
 "Well, that is polite!" said Eugene Stahlberg, 
 but the Prince assumed a displeased air. 
 
 "So? And you therefore took to your legs speed- 
 ily and left everything to go topsy-turvy at Rodeck. 
 I should not have thought you would neglect your 
 duty like that !*' 
 
 Stadinger looked at him in doubting perplexity.
 
 378 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 
 
 "But I have come according to orders. Your 
 Highness has written me to make haste and come 
 and take Louis from the hospital you would at- 
 tend to the travel and everything. I arrived this 
 noon, and found the lad as well as could be ex- 
 pected. The doctor thinks I can take him home 
 with me in a week, for then all danger would be 
 over. But the kindness Your Highness has shown 
 to Louis and all the others from Rodeck who are in 
 the army can never be told. May God reward you 
 a thousand times !" 
 
 Egon withdrew his hand impatiently. 
 
 "It is 'Herr Lieutenant' now, remember that. I 
 insist upon my military title and what does this 
 mean, now that when I count upon your churlish- 
 ness you are meek as a lamb and give us a pathetic 
 scene! I forbid it! This Louis, gentlemen, is a 
 grandson of this old Waldgeist a fine, brave fel- 
 low, but he has a sister who is much handsomer. I 
 am sorry to say this senseless grandfather sends her 
 away regularly when I go to Rodeck. Why did 
 Lena not come along? You should have thought of 
 bringing her." 
 
 This proved effective against the meekness and 
 affection, which were as unusual as embarrassing. 
 
 Stadinger drew himself up rigidly and replied 
 with his usual terseness: "I believed Your High- 
 ness had no time here in the war to think about 
 such foolishness." 
 
 "Aha, now it is coming!" said the Prince under 
 his breath to Waldorf, who stood beside him, but 
 aloud he continued : "That is where you are very 
 much mistaken. A fellow gets uncivilized in the 
 war, and when I return home again " 
 
 "Then Your Highness has promised to get mar-
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 379 
 
 ried at last," reminded the old man in the most 
 emphatic tone, which called forth general laughter 
 among the young officers. Egon joined it, but his 
 laugh sounded forced, just as did his reply: 
 
 "Yes, yes; I have promised, but I have reconsid- 
 ered the matter in the meantime. I may keep my 
 word in ten years or perhaps in twenty, but no 
 sooner." 
 
 Stadinger, who in spite of the command would 
 not have used the title of Lieutenant under any con- 
 sideration, because that would be a humiliation to 
 the ducal family in his eyes, flew into a high state 
 of indignation and gave free vent to it. 
 
 "If I do not almost believe it ! If Your High- 
 ness has really for once a sensible thought, it does 
 not hold good for twenty-four hours and your 
 sacred father a married man, too! Man has to 
 marry, anyhow, and all foolishness stops of its own 
 accord after marriage." 
 
 "Now that he is in the run of it, gentlemen, let 
 him moralize to you," cried Egon, and the young 
 officers, to whom this was great fun, teased the 
 poor Stadinger until he lost all respect and exhib- 
 ited himself in the full halo of his admonitory na- 
 ture. 
 
 Half an hour later Willibald and Eugene Stahl- 
 berg approached the Prince to take leave. 
 
 "You march on by to-morrow ?" he asked. 
 
 "At daybreak. We march toward R , where 
 
 Major-General von Falkenried is stationed with his 
 brigade, though it will take several days to reach 
 there, for the whole country between here and the 
 fortress is occupied by the enemy, and we have to 
 clear our way." 
 
 "But tell the General, Willy, that I shall follow
 
 380 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 in at least a week," said Eugene. "It is bad enough 
 that I have to remain behind so long on account of a 
 shot wound not worth mentioning. Next week I 
 shall report myself well, whatever the doctor may 
 say, and after that I shall join my regiment without 
 delay I hope before the capture of R " 
 
 "You must, indeed, make haste then," said Egon, 
 "for resistance does not last long usually where 
 General Falkenried stands; we have seen that often 
 enough. He is always in front with his men al- 
 ways the first to storm a place, and has already won 
 inconceivable things. It seems as if no impossibility 
 exists for him." 
 
 "But he has the good luck to be always put in the 
 front," grumbled Lieutenant Waldorf. "Now again 
 
 he is to take R , while we lie here, God knows 
 
 how long. And he will take possession of it there 
 is no doubt of that perhaps he has taken it already. 
 News reaches us only by roundabout ways so long 
 as the enemy stands between us." 
 
 He arose to escort the two gentlemen out, while 
 the Prince remained behind. 
 
 Standing before the fire with folded arms, he 
 gazed into it, and his face bore an expression not in 
 accordance with the gayety which he had but now 
 been showing. Seriously, yet gloomily, he looked 
 into the dancing flames, and the shadow would not 
 leave his usually sunny eyes. 
 
 He seemed to have forgotten the presence of 
 Stadinger, but as the latter made himself heard by 
 clearing his throat, he started. 
 
 "Ah, you are still here? Remember me to Louis 
 and tell him I will come to see him again to-mor- 
 row. We don't have to say farewell yet, as you 
 remain here for the present. You did not think we
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 381 
 
 had such gay times here ? Yes, one makes life easy 
 as possible when one has to be ready every day to 
 lose it." 
 
 The old man stood before his master and looked 
 sharply into his eyes, then he spoke half aloud : 
 
 "Yes, the gentlemen were gay and Your High- 
 ness the gayest of all but you are not happy in 
 spite of it." 
 
 "I ? What do you mean ? Why should I not be 
 happy ?" 
 
 "I don't know that, but still I see it," insisted 
 Stadinger. "When Your Highness used to come 
 from Furstenstein, or were up to all sorts of things 
 with Herr Rojanow, you looked different and 
 laughed different, and just now when you looked 
 into the fire it seemed to me as if Your Highness 
 had something very heavy upon your heart." 
 
 "Get away with all your observations!" cried 
 Egon, to whom his old Waldgeist was again becom- 
 ing uncomfortable. "Do you suppose we are always 
 jolly? I should say that when one has the bloody 
 battlefield always before the mind, earnest thoughts 
 come near." 
 
 Nothing could be said to that, and Stadinger re- 
 mained silent, but he could not be deceived. He 
 knew quite well that something was wrong with his 
 young master, and that something was hidden be- 
 hind this ostensibly exhibited gayety.
 
 CHAPTER LIV. 
 
 LIEUTENANT WALDORF re-entered the room, but 
 left the door open. "Come right in here," he called 
 to the man hesitating outside. "Here is an orderly 
 from the Seventh Regiment with a report. Well, 
 don't you hear, orderly? Come in !" 
 
 The repetition of the order sounded very impa- 
 tient. The soldier who stood upon the threshold 
 hesitated there, and had even made a start back, as 
 if he wished to return to the darkness outside. He 
 now obeyed, but kept close to the door, so that his 
 face remained in the dusk. 
 
 "Do you come from the outposts at the Capellen- 
 berg?" asked Waldorf. 
 
 "At your command, Herr Lieutenant." 
 
 Egon, who had turned indifferently, started at the 
 sound of that voice. He made a hasty step for- 
 ward, then stopped as if suddenly recollecting him- 
 self, but his eyes were fixed with an almost terrified 
 expression upon the speaker. 
 
 As far as could be discerned in the semi-darkness 
 he was a tall young fellow in the coarse cloak of the 
 common soldier, with helmet upon his closely-cut 
 hair. He stood there, rigidly immovable, and de- 
 livered his report correctly, but his voice had a pecu- 
 liarly choked, hollow sound. 
 
 "From Captain Salfeld," he reported. "We have 
 seized a suspicious character, dressed as a peasant, 
 but probably from the French reserve, who tried to 
 
 382
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 383 
 
 steal into the fortress. What writings he had with 
 him " 
 
 "Do come nearer," commanded Waldorf, impa- 
 tiently. "We cannot half understand you." 
 
 The soldier obeyed, drawing near to the officers. 
 The light now fell full and sharp upon his features, 
 but his face bore an ashy paleness; the teeth were 
 tightly closed, and the eyes were fastened to the 
 floor. 
 
 Egon's hand clutched the hilt of his sabre convul- 
 sively, and only by an effort he suppressed the 
 stormy exclamation which was forced to his lips, 
 while Stadinger, with wide-open eyes, glared at the 
 man, who now continued: "The writings which 
 he had with him were not of much account, but con- 
 tained hints which he was probably to fill out ver- 
 bally. The Captain thinks that if he were strictly 
 examined, more could be learned, and asks now 
 whether he shall send the prisoner here or to head- 
 quarters." 
 
 The report was neither surprising nor unusual. 
 It often happened that suspicious people were seized. 
 The enemy's reserve tried obstinately to obtain con- 
 nection with the fortress; perhaps they kept it up 
 in spite of all the watchfulness of the besiegers: 
 but Prince Adelsberg seemed to have to struggle for 
 breath before he could give the answer. 
 
 "I beg the Captain to send the prisoner here. We 
 shall be relieved in two hours and then we march 
 straight to headquarters. I shall attend to the fel- 
 low." 
 
 "I hope he can be made to speak when he is seri- 
 ously pressed," remarked Waldorf. "He would not 
 be the first whose heart had fallen when his position 
 became clear to him, Well, we shall see.."
 
 384 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 The soldier stood there awaiting his dismissal; 
 not a muscle quivered in his face, but neither did he 
 raise 'his eyes from the floor. Egon had now col- 
 lected himself, and, retaining the assumed igno- 
 rance, he asked in the curt tone of the superior : 
 
 "Do you belong to the Seventh Regiment?" 
 
 "At your command, Herr Lieutenant." 
 
 "Your name?" 
 
 "Joseph Tanner." 
 
 "Drawn?" 
 
 "No, volunteer." 
 
 "Since when ?" 
 
 "Since the 3Oth of July." 
 
 "You have been in the whole campaign?" 
 
 "Yes, Herr Lieutenant." 
 
 "Very well; now take the message to your Cap- 
 tain." 
 
 The soldier saluted, turned upon his heel and left. 
 
 Waldorf, who had been a little surprised at the 
 examination, but had not attached any importance 
 to it, looked after him, shrugging his shoulders. 
 
 "Those out at the Capellenberg have the worst 
 time of it. No rest by day or night ; taxed to the 
 utmost, and with all that they are often ordered to 
 help the pioneer corps. The poor fellows work 
 there in the hard, frozen ground until the sweat runs 
 in streams from their brows, and their hands bleed. 
 Our people surely are better off." 
 
 He left the room to appoint an orderly to guard 
 the expected prisoner and give him the necessary 
 instructions; but Egon tore the window open and 
 leaned out ; it seemed as if he should suffocate. 
 
 Then he heard Stadinger's voice behind him in 
 subdued tones, which nevertheless betrayed the 
 greatest terror.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 385 
 
 "Your Highness." 
 
 "What is it?" Egon asked without turning. 
 
 "Has not Your Highness seen?" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "The orderly who was here just now. That 
 was Herr Rojanow as sure as he lives and 
 breathes." 
 
 Egon saw that presence of mind was needed here, 
 so he turned around and said coldly : "I believe you 
 see ghosts." 
 
 "But, Your Highness " 
 
 "Nonsense ! there may be a little resemblance. I 
 noticed it myself, therefore I wanted to know the 
 name of the man. You heard that it was Joseph 
 Tanner." 
 
 "But still it was the real live Herr Rojanow," 
 cried the unshakable Stadinger, whose sharp eyes 
 could not be deceived. "Only the black locks were 
 gone and the proud, haughty manner, but it was his 
 voice." 
 
 "Get away from me with your fancies!" Egon 
 broke out angrily. "You know that Herr Ro- 
 janow is in Sicily, but here you want to trace him in 
 an orderly of the Seventh Regiment. It is truly 
 worse than ridiculous." 
 
 Stadinger held his peace. It was, indeed, ridic- 
 ulous and impossible, and consequently was his 
 young Prince so ungracious. He felt offended that 
 a common soldier should be confounded with his 
 friend. And really the haughty Rojanow, who 
 understood how to command from the very bot- 
 tom of his heart, and had often chased all the ser- 
 vants at Rodeck helter-skelter with his orders and 
 the orderly who had been snubbed by Lieutenant 
 Waldorf because he did not speak loud enough-*-.
 
 386 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 were two ever so different things. If only it had 
 not been for the voice ! 
 
 "Think, Your Highness," besought the old man, 
 who was now wavering. 
 
 "I think that you are an old seer of spirits," said 
 Egon more mildly. "Go into your quarters and 
 sleep away the fatigue of your journey, or you will 
 be finding some more resemblances. Good-night!" 
 
 Stadinger obeyed and took his leave. Fortu- 
 nately he had not known Joseph Tanner, who had 
 only been at Ostwalden a few weeks, and the en- 
 counter had put him in such a fright that the partly 
 concealed excitement of his master passed quite un- 
 noticed by him. But he clung to his doubts; the 
 thing was strange very strange. 
 
 When the Prince found himself alone he began 
 to pace the floor in violent excitement. So! what 
 he had refused his former friend had been enforced. 
 Joseph Tanner ! He plainly remembered the name, 
 which had been mentioned to him at Ostwalden, 
 and he knew now whose hand had opened for Hart- 
 mut the ranks of the army which had been closed 
 to a Rojanow. 
 
 What will not the love of a woman attain! a 
 woman who desires to see her love exonerated at 
 any price. She herself had sent him out into dan- 
 ger and death to save him for life and herself. 
 Jealousy rose wild and hot in Egon's breast at the 
 thought, and with it that awful suspicion, not yet 
 overcome, raised its head again threateningly. Did 
 Hartmut really wish to atone only in this war ? Was 
 not his presence at the outposts a danger, for which 
 one was responsible if he kept it a secret ? 
 
 Then came back to the Prince's mind the pale, 
 gloomy face of the man to-night the friend who
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 387 
 
 had once been so dear to him, and who must have 
 suffered agonies of torture at this encounter, far 
 exceeding his imagination. He well knew Hart- 
 mut's unbending pride, and this pride was now 
 bowed low in the dust in that subordinate position 
 day after day. He had heard it ; how out there on 
 the Capellenberg they often worked so hard that in 
 spite of the icy weather the sweat poured in streams 
 from their brows, and their hands bled. This was 
 what the spoiled, famed Rojanow was doing; the 
 man at whose feet the whole town laid its homage 
 only a year ago, and whom the house of the reign- 
 ing Prince had overwhelmed with distinction; and 
 he was doing it of his own free will, when the suc- 
 cess of his poetical work afforded him the richest 
 revenues. And with it all, he was the son of Gen- 
 eral Falkenried! 
 
 Egon's breast rose under a deep but relieved 
 breath. This view of it was giving him back slowly 
 his lost faith; all torturing doubts fled before this. 
 The old sin of the boy Hartrnut was now being 
 atoned for, and the other more awful sin was the 
 mother's alone not his.
 
 CHAPTER LV. 
 
 IT was toward nine o'clock in the evening when 
 Prince Adelsberg left his quarters to go to the 
 Commanding General. He was not obeying an 
 official order, but an invitation, for the General had 
 been close friends with his father, and had shown 
 paternal attention to the son all during the cam- 
 paign. 
 
 Egon would have given much to have been per- 
 mitted to remain at home to-night, for the encoun- 
 ter with Hartmut had shaken him to the inmost 
 heart, but the invitation of the superior could not be 
 disregarded, and one could not follow one's inclina- 
 tions in war-time. 
 
 An adjutant met the Prince upon the stairs, seem- 
 ing to be in the greatest haste, and only dropping a 
 hint of bad news, which Prince Adelsberg would 
 probably hear from the General. Egon mounted 
 the stairs shaking his head. 
 
 The General was alone, pacing the room in ap- 
 parent excitement and with a face which boded no 
 good. 
 
 "Good evening, Prince Adelsberg," he said, paus- 
 ing in his walk at the entrance of the young officer. 
 "I am sorry I cannot promise you a pleasant even- 
 ing, but we have received news which will probably 
 ruin every pleasure of being together." 
 
 "I just heard a hint about it," replied Egon; "but 
 what has happened, Your Excellency? The dis- 
 patches of to-day noon sounded favorable." 
 
 388
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 389 
 
 "I have had this news but an hour. You your- 
 self delivered the suspicious man who had been 
 seized by our outposts to headquarters. Do you 
 know what he had with him?" 
 
 ''Yes, for Captain Salfeld sent the papers with the 
 prisoner. I was also of the opinion that he was to 
 complete the information verbally, as they had been 
 carefully prepared. They had apparently counted 
 upon the possibility of the man's falling into our 
 hands. He would not confess anything, but I knew 
 he would be examined closely here." 
 
 "Which has been done. The man was a coward, 
 and when he saw the bullet threatening him he saved 
 himself by a confession, the truth of which cannot 
 be doubted. You remember that in one of the pa- 
 pers it was mentioned that one could in an extreme 
 case follow the heroic example of the commander 
 of R ?" 
 
 "Yes, that is incomprehensible, as the fortress is 
 on the eve of surrender. General Falkenried sent 
 word that he hopes to move in by to-morrow." 
 
 "And I fear he will make his word good," cried 
 the General. Egon looked at him in amazement. 
 
 "You fear, Excellency?" 
 
 "Yes, for there is a scoundrelly scheme a be- 
 trayal without example. They mean to surrender 
 the fortress, and when their garrison has withdrawn 
 to a safe distance, and our army has moved in, they 
 intend to blow the citadel to atoms." 
 
 "For God's sake!" shrieked the Prince in horror. 
 "Cannot General Falkenried be notified?" 
 
 "That is the question. I fear that it will not be 
 possible. I Ijave sent out warnings upon two dif- 
 ferent routes, but our direct connection with R 
 
 is cut off ; the enemy has the mountain passes in pos-
 
 390 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 session; the messengers will have to make a wide 
 circuit and cannot arrive there in time." 
 
 Egon was silent in deepest consternation. The 
 passes were, indeed, occupied by the hostile forces. 
 Eschenhagen's regiment had been sent to clear the 
 way, but that might take several days. 
 
 "We have considered all possibilities," continued 
 the General, "but there is no way out of it noth- 
 ing but a slight hope that the surrender has been 
 delayed in some way ; but Falkenried is not the man 
 to allow himself to be kept waiting. He will hasten 
 the finale and then he is lost with perhaps thousands 
 with him." 
 
 He resumed his walk through the room. One 
 could see how the fate of his endangered comrades 
 went to the heart of this iron man. 
 
 The Prince, too, stood helpless, but suddenly a 
 thought flashed upon him. He drew himself up. 
 
 "Your Excellency." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "If it should be possible to send a dispatch over 
 the passes, a good horseman might possibly get to 
 
 R by to-morrow morning. Of course, he would 
 
 have to ride for life and death " 
 
 "And through the midst of the enemy non- 
 sense! You are a soldier and must tell yourself 
 that it is impossible. The foolhardy rider would not 
 get half a mile he would be shot down." 
 
 "But if a man could be found who would be will- 
 ing to make the attempt in spite of everything? I 
 know such a man, Your Excellency." 
 
 The General frowned angrily. 
 
 "Does that mean that you wish to offer yourself 
 for this useless sacrifice? I would have to prohibit 
 that, Prince Adelsberg. I know how to value the
 
 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 391 
 
 courage of my officers, but I shall not give them 
 permission for such impossible enterprises." 
 
 "I do not speak of myself," said Egon earnestly. 
 "The man of whom I am thinking belongs to the 
 Seventh Regiment, and is at present upon sentinel 
 duty on the Capellenberg. It was he who reported 
 the prisoner." 
 
 The General had grown thoughtful, but he shook 
 his head incredulously. 
 
 "I say it is impossible; but what is this man's 
 name?" 
 
 "Joseph Tanner." 
 
 "Private?" 
 
 "Yes, he entered voluntarily." 
 
 "You know him, then?" 
 
 "Yes, Your Excellency; he is perhaps the best 
 rider in the whole army ; dauntless to f oolhardiness, 
 and capable to act in such a case with the circum- 
 spection of an officer. If the thing can possibly be 
 done, he will do it." 
 
 "And you believe such a thing cannot be com- 
 manded it is, indeed, an act of despair you be- 
 lieve that the man would take this message of his 
 own free will?" 
 
 "I stand for it." 
 
 "Then, indeed, I cannot nor dare not say no 
 where so much is at stake. I will order Tanner up 
 immediately." 
 
 "May I not take the order to him?" Egon quickly 
 interrupted. 
 
 The General stopped and looked at him search- 
 ingly. 
 
 "You wishvto do it yourself why?" 
 
 "To save time; the road which Tanner has to 
 take leads by the Capellenberg; an hour would
 
 392 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 pass before he could get to headquarters and 
 back." 
 
 Nothing could be said against that, but the Gen- 
 eral seemed to feel that something important was 
 hidden beneath this. An ordinary private would 
 hardly undertake such peril, which drove him almost 
 into death's embrace, but the old warrior did not 
 inquire further. He only asked: 
 
 "Do you stand for the man?" 
 
 "Yes," returned the Prince, firmly and calmly. 
 
 "Very well; then you can inform him yourself. 
 But one thing more he must have statements for 
 the outposts on the other side, if indeed he reaches 
 it, for every detention may prove fatal where mo- 
 ments count." 
 
 He stepped to his desk and wrote a few lines upon 
 a paper, which he handed to the Prince. 
 
 "Here is the necessary passport, and here the dis- 
 patch to Falkenried. Will you bring me immediate 
 news whether or not Tanner consents to go?" 
 
 "Instantly, Your Excellency." 
 
 Egon received the papers, took his leave, and has- 
 tened to his quarters, where he ordered his horse 
 saddled at once. Five minutes later saw him on his 
 way.
 
 CHAPTER LVI. 
 
 THE Capellenberg, of Chapel Mountain, which 
 had probably borne originally another- name, but 
 was so called by the Germans because it bore a 
 chapel, was only a small height, partly covered 
 with forests. It was the last outrunner of the 
 mountains at this side, and formed here the border 
 of the German troops. A company of the Seventh 
 Regiment was stationed in the farms which lay scat- 
 tered over its side. Their position was rightly con- 
 sidered very hard and most dangerous. 
 
 The chapel lay desolate and lonely, half buried 
 in the deep snow. Priests and choir had long since 
 fled, and the little edifice bore traces of destruction 
 everywhere, for hot battles had been fought around 
 this height. Walls and roof still stood intact, but 
 a part of the ceiling had fallen, and the wind whis- 
 tled through the shattered windows. Behind it rose 
 the forest, clad in ice and snow, and all this lay in 
 the uncertain light of the half-moon which was now 
 visible in the heavily clouded sky, shedding her 
 ghostly light upon the surroundings, only to again 
 quickly disappear. 
 
 It was an icy winter night, as at that time at Ro- 
 deck, and, as then, the horizon was lit up by .a dark 
 reddish glow ; but no aurora beamed here in gorge- 
 ous beauty ; the glow which flared here in the north 
 bore witness of battles fought all around ; it had its 
 origin in burning villages and farms; the awful 
 signs of the flame of war, which were reflected in 
 the skies. 
 
 393
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 A lonely sentinel stood here with gun on shoul- 
 .'or Hartmut von Falkenried. 
 
 His eyes hung on the flaming horizon, the dark 
 .'nasses of cloud shone there blood-red, and from 
 :;me to time a shower of fiery sparks burst from the 
 seething smoke which rested over the earth. 
 
 Glow and flame there; ice and night here! The 
 cold, which had been intense already during the 
 day, now grew to the breath of ice, in which all life 
 seemed to become stark, and which chilled the lonely 
 sentinel to the very marrow. 
 
 Although he was not the only one who had to do 
 this hard duty, his comrades had not been spoiled 
 by years of life in the Orient and the balmy air of 
 Sicily. Hartmut had not lived through a northern 
 winter since his boyhood ; this cold grew disastrous 
 to him, for it seemed to change the blood in his 
 veins into ice. 
 
 Slowly the deadly sleepiness, which is not sleep, 
 crept upon him; it made the limbs heavy as lead, 
 and drooped the eyelids forcibly. He who was so 
 terribly threatened, struggled against it with all his 
 will-power; he tried to collect himself and move 
 about; he succeeded for a moment, but exhaustion 
 again approached, the end of which he knew. 
 
 Was it not even to be granted him to fall by a 
 bullet? 
 
 Hartmut' s glance turned to the half-destroyed 
 house of God, as if beseeching help ; but what were 
 church and altar to him? He had cast faith from 
 him long ago; only night with death stared him in 
 the face, and life would have given him so much 
 when the atonement should have been completed 
 possession of his love, the fame of a poet, and per- 
 haps even reconciliation with his father.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 395 
 
 But it was not to be. He must stand to his post 
 and wait for the ignominous death which was creep- 
 ing upon him from the icy darkness. Duty com- 
 manded and he obeyed. 
 
 But in the distance sounded steps and voices 
 which came nearer and nearer. They tore Hart- 
 mut from the semi-unconsciousness which had al- 
 ready begun to veil his senses. 
 
 He roused himself with an effort and made his 
 gun ready, but it was his comrades who drew near. 
 What did it mean ? The hour for relief had not yet 
 come ; but in a moment a sergeant stood before him. 
 
 "Relief command from headquarters brought 
 by an officer," came the order. 
 . The change was made and a sturdy peasant, who 
 did not seem to mind the cold much, took Hartmut's 
 place. As Hartmut was about to join the sergeant 
 an officer approached him from the other side. 
 
 "Let the sergeant go on. I wish to speak to you, 
 Tanner; follow me." 
 
 Prince Adelsberg, who did not wish the sentinel 
 to witness the conversation, entered the chapel, into 
 which Hartmut followed him. 
 
 The pale moonlight falling through the windows 
 revealed all the dismantled and destroyed interior. 
 The fallen ceiling had shattered some of the pews; 
 the altar alone stood undemolished. 
 
 Egon had walked to the middle of the room, 
 where he stopped and turned. 
 
 "Hartmut." 
 
 "Herr Lieutenant." 
 
 "Stop that, we are alone," said trie Prince. "I 
 did not think, that we should meet like this." 
 
 "And I hoped I should be spared it," said Hart- 
 mut hoarsely, "You have come >"
 
 396 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "From headquarters. I heard that you had been 
 ordered to sentinel duty on the Capellenberg. That 
 is awful duty for such a night as this." 
 
 Hartmut was silent; he knew that without this 
 interruption it would have been his last duty. 
 
 Egon looked at him with concern. In spite of 
 the uncertain light he saw how rigid and exhausted 
 was the man who leaned against one of the pillars 
 as if he needed support. 
 
 "I came to bring you an order, but it is left to 
 your own free will to accept it or not. The matter 
 is considered almost impossible, and it would be, 
 perhaps, to any one else. You have courage for it, 
 I know, but the question is, have you the strength 
 after all these exertions?" 
 
 "Fifteen minutes' rest and warmth will give me 
 the strength. But what does it concern ?" 
 
 "A ride for life or death. You are to take a mes- 
 sage through the midst of the enemy to R " 
 
 To the fortress?" cried Hartmut with a start. 
 "There stands " 
 
 "General Falkenried with his brigade; he is lost 
 if the message does not reach him. We lay his 
 safety in the hands of his son." 
 
 Again Hartmut started. Gone were frost and 
 exhaustion. With feverish excitement he grasped 
 the Prince's arm. 
 
 "I am to save my father? I? What has hap- 
 pened ? What must I do ?" 
 
 "Listen. The prisoner whom you reported to me 
 to-day has given us a terrible disclosure ; it concerns 
 a betrayal. The fortress is to be blown up as soon 
 as their troops are in safety and ours have taken 
 possession. The General sent warnings instantly, 
 but they will not reach them in time, as they have
 
 ,THE SIGN OF FLAME. 397 
 
 to take a circuitous route. Your father thinks of 
 taking possession to-morrow. He must be warned 
 before that, and there is only one possibility. The 
 messenger must go over the mountain passes, which 
 are held by the enemy. If successful, the news 
 will reach there to-morrow before noon, but the 
 way " 
 
 "I know it," interrupted Hartmut. "Our regi- 
 ment took it only fourteen days ago coming here. 
 The passes were free then." 
 
 "So much the better! Of course you must take 
 off your uniform, which would betray you." 
 
 "I shall change only cloak and helmet. If I am 
 held up at all, my fate is sealed so it is only im- 
 portant that I be not recognized in flying past. If 
 only a good capable horse can be found!" 
 
 "It is at hand. I brought my Arab my Sala- 
 din with me. You know him and have often rid- 
 den him. He flies like a bird, and must do his mas- 
 ter achievement this night." 
 
 The conversation had been conducted with flying 
 haste, and now the Prince drew out the papers which 
 he had received at headquarters. 
 
 "Here is the order of the Commanding General, 
 which puts everything at your disposal when you 
 reach our outposts and here the dispatch. Give 
 yourself half an hour's rest, for your strength might 
 not hold out, and you will break down on the way." 
 
 "Do you think that I need rest and recreation 
 now," cried Hartmut, flashing up. "I shall surely 
 not break down now; it will have to be under the 
 fire of the enemy if I do. I thank you, Egon, for 
 this hour, in which you at last at last speak to 
 me free from triat base suspicion." 
 
 "And in which I send you out into death," said
 
 398 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 the Prince softly. "We will not shun the truth. It 
 will be a miracle if you get through safely." 
 
 "A miracle." 
 
 Hartmut's glance wandered to the altar, upon 
 which rested the pale light of the moon. He had 
 forgotten long ago how to pray, yet at this moment 
 he sent up a silent, fervent prayer to the heavens 
 to the power which could do miracles. 
 
 "Only until I have saved my father and his men 
 only so long guide and keep me !" 
 
 In the next second he drew himself up. It was 
 as if Egon had poured glowing life power into the 
 veins of the man who so shortly since was threat- 
 ened with death through cold and exhaustion. 
 
 "And now let us say good-by," whispered Egon. 
 "Farewell, Hartmut." 
 
 He opened wide his arms and Hartmut fell upon 
 his breast. 
 
 All that had stood between them was buried in 
 this embrace. The old glowing love burst forth 
 powerfully again for the last time, for both felt that 
 they would not meet again that this was a final 
 farewell. 
 
 Scarce fifteen minutes later a horseman dashed 
 away; the slender Arab flying so that his hoof 
 seemed not to touch the ground. In furious gallop 
 he flew along over the snow through ice-covered 
 forests, over frozen brooks on and on into the 
 mountain passes !
 
 CHAPTER LVII. 
 
 THE next day brought clear, frosty weather, but 
 the sun shone brightly and the cold had somewhat 
 abated. 
 
 In Prince Adelsberg's quarters were Eugene 
 Stahlberg and Waldorf, the latter being off duty to- 
 day on account of a fall upon the ice, resulting in an 
 injury to his hand, which prevented him from 
 marching with his company as Egon had done. 
 
 The gentlemen were awaiting their princely com- 
 rade, who was expected soon, and entertained them- 
 selves in the meantime by teasing Peter Stadinger, 
 who had, as in duty bound, appeared at his young 
 master's this morning, and who also awaited him 
 now. 
 
 The young officers knew nothing as yet of the 
 news which had been obtained at headquarters yes- 
 terday, and were in the best of spirits taking all 
 possible pains to call forth in Stadinger the far- 
 famed churlishness. But it was not successful to- 
 day. The old man remained laconic and reticent. 
 He would only repeat his question: When would 
 His Highness return? and if it would be a serious 
 skirmish to which His Highness had marched? 
 until finally Waldorf lost all patience. 
 
 "Stadinger, I believe you would like best to pack 
 up your Prince and take him back with you to your 
 Rodeck, which is safe from bombs," he asserted. 
 "You must get over this anxiety in the war re- 
 member that." 
 
 399
 
 400 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "And, besides, the Prince has only marched out 
 to reconnoitre," added Eugene. "He is just taking 
 a little walk with his people from the Capellenberg 
 into the neighboring dales and ravines, to ascertain 
 how it really looks there. They will probably ex- 
 change a few compliments with the French gentle- 
 men, and then retreat politely; the more impolite 
 attacks will follow in a few days." 
 
 "But is there shooting with it all ?" asked Stadin- 
 ger, with such anxious mien that the two officers 
 laughed aloud. 
 
 "Yes, shots are being exchanged, too," confirmed 
 Waldorf. "You seem to have great fear of them, 
 yet you are at a safe distance." 
 
 "I?" The old man drew himself up, deeply of- 
 fended. 
 
 "I wish I could be in the midst of it also." 
 
 "Perhaps to protect your much loved Highness. 
 The Prince would decline that. You would hold 
 on to his coat tails and cry continually, 'Take care, 
 Your Highness, there comes a ball/ That would 
 look fine!" 
 
 "Herr Lieutenant," said the old man, so seriously 
 that the gay tease was silenced, "you should not do 
 that to an old hunter who has often climbed after 
 the chamois, and has fired his gun when he had 
 scarcely a foot's breadth of ground to stand on; I 
 feel so depressed and anxious to-day. I wish the 
 day would end." 
 
 "Well, it was not meant so seriously," said 
 Eugene, soothingly. "We believe you, Stadinger; 
 you do not look like a man who is afraid. But you 
 must not speak to us about your depressing presen- 
 timents. One does not think of them after one has 
 stood so many times in the shower of bullets.
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 401 
 
 When we are happily at home again, I will come to 
 my sister at Ostwalden, and we will then be good 
 neighbors with Rodeck. The Prince loves his old 
 forest nook so well. And now abandon your anx- 
 iety, for there he comes already." 
 
 Rapid steps were heard on the stairs outside ; the 
 old man sighed with relief. But it was only Egon's 
 attendant who appeared in the open door. 
 
 "Well, has His Highness arrived?" asked Wal- 
 dorf; but Stadinger did not allow the man time to 
 answer. He had cast one glance at his face only 
 a single one then suddenly grasped his hand with 
 a convulsive clutch. 
 
 "What is it? Where where is my master?" 
 
 The man shook his head sadly and pointed si- 
 lently to the window, to which both officers hast- 
 ened with fear and dread. But Stadinger lost no 
 time. He dashed out down the stairs, into the 
 little garden which lay before the house, and with a 
 loud, bitter cry sank upon his knees at the side of a 
 stretcher, upon which there lay a slender, youthful 
 figure. 
 
 "Quietly," said the physician who had accom- 
 panied the sad group. "Control yourself the 
 Prince is seriously wounded." 
 
 "I see it," gasped the faithful old servant; "but 
 not fatally oh, say not fatally. Only tell me that, 
 Herr Doctor !" 
 
 He looked up to the surgeon with such despair- 
 ing entreaty that the latter had not courage to tell 
 him the truth, but turned to the two officers who 
 now hastened near and overwhelmed him with low, 
 anxious questioning. 
 
 "A ball in "the breast," he explained, in the same 
 tone. "The Prince begged to be brought to his
 
 402 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 quarters, and we have used all possible care in the 
 moving ; but it will bring the end more quickly than 
 I thought." 
 
 "Fatal?" asked Waldorf. 
 
 "Beyond a doubt." 
 
 The surgeon gave the bearers who prepared to 
 take their charge into the house, a sign to desist. 
 
 "Stop, the Prince seems to have something to say 
 to his old servant, and there are no moments to 
 lose." 
 
 Stadinger saw and heard nothing of what hap- 
 pened at his side. He looked only upon his master. 
 
 Egon seemed to be unconscious. The light hair 
 had become disheveled, the eyes were closed, and 
 beneath the cloak with which he had been covered, 
 and which had partly fallen open, the blood-stained 
 uniform could be seen. 
 
 "Your Highness," besought Stadinger, softly, ac- 
 cording to the doctor's warning, but with heart- 
 breaking accents, "only look at me ! Speak to me ! 
 It is I Stadinger." 
 
 The well-known voice found its way to the ear of 
 the desperately wounded man. Slowly his eyes 
 opened, and a slight smile flitted over his features 
 as he recognized the old man who knelt at his 
 side. 
 
 "My old Waldgeist," he whispered, "did you 
 have to come to see this ?" 
 
 "But you will not die, Your Highness," mur- 
 mured Stadinger, his whole body a-tremble, but 
 never removing his eyes from his dying master ; "no 
 do not die surely not !" 
 
 "Do you think that it is hard?" said Egon, 
 calmly. "Yesterday you saw quite correctly 
 my heart felt heavy ; but now it is light. Give my
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 403 
 
 love to Rodeck and to my forests and to her, 
 too, the mistress of Ostwalden." 
 
 "Whom? Frau Wallmoden?" asked Stadinger, 
 almost terrified at this turn. 
 
 "Yes take her my last greeting tell her to 
 think of me sometimes." 
 
 The words came painfully brokenly from the 
 lips which seemed to almost refuse their duty; but 
 they left no doubt as to the meaning of the last 
 greeting. 
 
 Eugene had started when he heard the name of 
 his sister, and now bent low over the dying man, 
 who saw the brother of Adelaide recognized the 
 features which resembled hers so much and again 
 a smile passed over his face. Then he leaned his 
 fair head quietly and calmly on the breast of his old 
 Waldgeist, and the beautiful blue eyes closed for- 
 ever. 
 
 It had been a short, painless struggle almost a 
 falling asleep. Stadinger had not moved had not 
 uttered a sound, for he knew it would hurt his 
 young master, whom he had borne in his arms as a 
 child, and who now drew his last breath in those 
 arms. But, when all was over, the composure of 
 the old man gave way. He threw himself despair- 
 ingly upon the body and wept like a child.
 
 CHAPTER LVIII. 
 
 OVER on the other side of the mountain passes 
 also the winter sun shone clear and bright upon the 
 new achievements which the victorious German 
 troops had acquired. 
 
 The negotiations with the commander of R 
 
 had been brought to an end, and the fortress had 
 surrendered. The captive garrison moved out, 
 while a portion of the victors had already 
 marched in. 
 
 General Falkenried stood in the main square of 
 the lower town with his staff, about to move also 
 into the fortress. The helmets and arms of the 
 troops who were on their way into the citadel glit- 
 tered in the sunshine. Falkenried issued various 
 orders, then took his stand at the head of his staff 
 and gave the signal to march. 
 
 But now there came a horseman in furious haste 
 over the main road; the noble animal he rode was 
 covered with sweat and foam, and his sides bled 
 from the cruel spurs which had hurried him on and 
 on when his strength threatened to desert him. 
 The face also of the rider was disfigured by the 
 blood trickling from beneath the cloth that had been 
 wound around the forehead. 
 
 He came flying, as if driven by a tornado, and 
 everything fled from before him until he reached the 
 open square, dashed through the midst of the offi- 
 cers straight up to the General. A few steps from 
 the end of the journey the strength of the noble 
 
 404
 
 THE SIGN 0$ tfLAME. 405 
 
 horse failed, he broke down completely; but at the 
 same moment the rider sprang from the saddle and 
 hastened toward the commander. 
 
 "From the Commanding General." 
 
 Falkenried started at the first word. He had not 
 recognized the blood-covered face ; he only saw that 
 the man who dashed up as if for life or death must 
 bring an important message. But at the sound of 
 that voice, an idea of the truth flashed upon him. 
 
 Hartmut swayed and laid his hand for a moment 
 on his brow; it seemed as if he were about to break 
 down, too, like his horse. But he recovered with 
 an effort. 
 
 "The General sends word to be cautious be- 
 trayal is planned the fortress will be blown up as 
 soon as its garrison has moved off. Here is the dis- 
 patch." 
 
 He tore a paper from his breast and gave it to 
 Falkenried. The officers had become violently ex- 
 cited at the awful news, and pressed around their 
 chief as if expecting to hear from him confirmation 
 of the incredible report. But they had a strange 
 sight before them. 
 
 The General, whose iron composure they all 
 knew who never lost control of himself had 
 turned deathly pale, and stared at the speaker as if a 
 spirit had risen before him from the ground, while 
 he held the paper unopened in his hand. 
 
 "Herr General the dispatch !" 
 
 One of the adjutants who understood the pro- 
 ceedings as little as the others, gently reminded 
 him ; but it was enough to bring Falkenried back to 
 consciousness. He tore the dispatch open and 
 glanced it over, and was now again the soldier who 
 knew nothing but his duty.
 
 406 THE SIGtf OP FLAME. 
 
 With full, firm voice he gave his orders. The 
 officers galloped right and left; signals and com- 
 mands resounded in all directions, and in a few mo- 
 ments the last detachment of soldiers came to a 
 standstill. Upon the fortress sounded the signal of 
 alarm. Neither friend nor foe knew what it meant. 
 Did it not appear as if the so recently conquered 
 place was to be vacated at once? But the orders 
 were executed with the usual alacrity and dispatch ; 
 the movements were completed with perfect com- 
 posure, in spite of the haste, and the troops turned 
 back into the town. 
 
 Falkenried was still in the open square, giving 
 orders, receiving reports, watching and guiding 
 everything with his eyes. But still he found a mo- 
 ment's time to turn to his son, to whom he had not 
 as yet given any sign of recognition. 
 
 "You are bleeding let it be bandaged." 
 
 Hartmut shook his head hastily. 
 
 ''Later I must first see the retreat the rescue." 
 
 The awful excitement sustained him; he did not 
 falter again, but followed with feverish attention 
 every movement of the troops. 
 
 Falkenried looked at him and then asked: 
 
 "Which way did you come?" 
 
 "Over the mountain passes." 
 
 "Over the passes ! The enemy stands there." 
 
 "Yes, there they stand." 
 
 "And you came over that way?" 
 
 "I had to, otherwise the news would not have 
 reached here in time. I started only last night." 
 
 "But that is an heroic deed without an equal ! 
 Man, how could you accomplish it ?" exclaimed one 
 of the higher officers, who had just brought a report 
 and heard the last words.
 
 THE SIGK OF FLAME. 40? 
 
 Hartmut was silent; only he slowly raised his 
 eyes to his father. He no longer feared the eyes he 
 had feared so long, and what he read in them now 
 told him that here, too, he was free from that awful 
 suspicion. 
 
 But even the greatest will power has its limits, 
 and this was reached with the man who had ren- 
 dered almost superhuman assistance. The face of 
 his father was the last thing he saw then it disap- 
 peared as behind a bloody veil; something hot and 
 wet flowed over his forehead all became night 
 around him, and he sank to the ground. 
 
 And now resounded a crash, under the appalling 
 force of which the whole town trembled and 
 quaked. The citadel, whose outlines had just stood 
 out sharp and clear against the blue sky, was sud- 
 denly transformed into a crater, vomiting forth fire 
 and destruction. In those walls a hell seemed to 
 open; showers of rocks and stones rose high in the 
 air, only to come down with thunderous clatter, and 
 immediately there leaped and flickered over all the 
 huge pile of debris a giant pillar of fire and smoke 
 which rose up to the heavens a terrible sign of 
 flame! 
 
 The warning had arrived at the last possible mo- 
 ment. But, in spite of it, there was a sacrifice of 
 life, for whoever had been still in the neighborhood 
 of the citadel had been crushed or severely injured. 
 Still the loss was small in comparison with the in- 
 calculable disaster 'which would surely have taken 
 place had not the warning been brought. 
 
 The General, with his officers and nearly all his 
 troops, had been saved. Falkenried had made all 
 the arrangements required by the dreadful catas- 
 trophe with his usual promptitude and circumspeo
 
 408 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 tion. He was everywhere, and his activity and ex- 
 ample succeeded in giving back to the men who had 
 been betrayed in the height of victory their equi- 
 librium. Only when the commander had done his 
 duty did the father seek his natural rights. 
 
 Hartmut still lay unconscious in one of the neigh- 
 boring houses, into which he had been carried when 
 he sank to the ground. He neither saw nor heard 
 the father, who stood at his bedside with one of the 
 physicians. 
 
 Falkenried silently gazed down upon the pale 
 face and closed eyes, then turned to the physician. 
 
 "You do not consider the wound fatal?" 
 
 The doctor sadly shrugged his shoulders. 
 
 "Not the wound in itself, but the great over- 
 exertion of that life and death ride the heavy loss 
 of blood, the bitter cold of the night. I fear, Herr 
 General, you must be prepared for the worst." 
 
 "I am prepared for it," said Falkenried, solemnly. 
 Then he knelt down and kissed the son whom per- 
 haps he had found only to lose again ; and hot, burn- 
 ing tears fell upon the deathly white face. 
 
 But it was not granted the father to remain with 
 his child for any length of time; he was forced to 
 leave after a few moments, requesting the doctor 
 once more to give his greatest care and skill to the 
 patient. 
 
 At the open square were collected the General's 
 staff and other officers, awaiting their chief. They 
 knew he was at present with the wounded man who 
 had brought the warning, and whom nobody knew. 
 
 It had become known that he had come over the 
 mountain passes, through the midst of the foe 
 that he had ventured upon a ride the like of which 
 nobody in the army could imitate and when the
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 409 
 
 General at last appeared, everybody gathered 
 around him, questioningly. 
 
 Falkenried was deeply serious, but the rigid, 
 gloomy look which his face was accustomed to bear 
 had disappeared and given place to an expression 
 which the attendant officers saw now for the first 
 time. In his eyes tears still glistened, but his voice 
 sounded firm and clear as he answered: 
 
 "Yes, gentlemen, he is desperately injured, and 
 perhaps it was his last ride that brought rescue to 
 us. But he has done his duty as a man and a sol- 
 dier, and if you want to know his name he is my 
 son, Hartmut von Falkenried !"
 
 CHAPTER LIX. 
 
 THE old mansion of Burgsdorf lay peaceful and 
 cosy in the brightest sunlight. It had but recently 
 received back its lord, who had been absent nearly 
 a year, and who returned now after the war was 
 over, to his home and his young wife. 
 
 The large estate, with its extensive work, had not 
 suffered through his long absence, for it had been 
 under safe guidance. The master's mother had 
 stepped into her old place, and held the reins with 
 her usual firm hand, until the return of her son ; but 
 now she laid those reins solemnly into his hands 
 again and insisted, in spite of all prayers and en- 
 treaties, upon leaving Burgsdorf and returning to 
 her city home. 
 
 At present Frau von Eschenhagen was standing 
 upon the terrace, the broad stone steps of which led 
 into the garden, talking with Willibald, who stood 
 beside her. 
 
 Her glance rested with undeniable satisfaction 
 upon the powerful, manly form of her son, who ap- 
 peared even more stately now because of the ac- 
 quired military bearing. Perhaps she felt that 
 something different and better had been made of 
 the young country squire than she could have done 
 with her education. But she would not have con- 
 fessed it at any price. 
 
 "And so you wish to build," she was saying; "I 
 thought about as much. The plain old house in 
 
 410
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 411 
 
 which your father and I lived so many years is, of 
 course, not good enough for your little princess. 
 She must be surrounded by every available splen- 
 dor. Well, I don't mind; you have the money for 
 it, and can allow yourself that pleasure. I am glad 
 to say I have not the responsibility of it any longer." 
 
 "Do not act so grim, mamma," laughed Willi- 
 bald. "If any one should hear you, they would 
 think you the worst of mothers-in-law, whereas if I 
 did not know it from Marietta's letters, I see it daily 
 now, how you spoil her and carry her upon your 
 hands." 
 
 "Oh, well, one likes to play with pretty dolls 
 sometimes, even in old age," replied Regine, dryly; 
 "and your wife is such a delicate little doll, who is 
 only good for play. Do not imagine that she will 
 ever get to be a competent farm manager. I saw 
 that from the first moment, and have not allowed 
 her to do it at all." 
 
 "And you were right in that," joined in the 
 young lord. "Work and management are my part. 
 My Marietta shall not be worried with it. But, be- 
 lieve me, mamma, one can live and work quite dif- 
 ferently when such a sweet little singvogel sings 
 courage and love of work into one's heart." 
 
 "Boy, I believe you are crazy still," said Frau von 
 Eschenhagen, with her old grim manner. "Has it 
 ever been known that a sensible man a husband 
 and estate owner speaks so of his wife 'sweet 
 little singvogel' ! Perhaps you get that from your 
 bosom friend, Hartmut, who is considered by you 
 all as such a great poet. You always did imitate 
 him as a boy." 
 
 "No, mamma, it is really my own. I have com- 
 posed poetry but once in my life, on the night when
 
 412 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 I saw Marietta in Hartmut's 'Arivana.' The poem 
 fell into my hands the other day, when I was put- 
 ting my desk in order, and I gave it to Hartmut, 
 begging him to change it a little, for, strange to 
 say, the rhymes would not fit, and I had not done 
 very well with the meter. Do you know what he 
 said? 'My dear Willy, your poem is very beautiful 
 as far as sentiment is concerned, but I advise you to 
 abandon poetry. Such verse is not to be tolerated, 
 and your wife will seek a divorce if you sing to her 
 in this style.' That is how my 'bosom friend' 
 judges my poetical talent." 
 
 "It serves you right, too. What does an estate 
 owner have to do with poetry?" said Regine, causti- 
 cally. 
 
 The door of the dining room was opened and a 
 small head, running over with dark curls, peeped 
 out. 
 
 "Is it permitted to disturb the assembly in their 
 important business discourse?" 
 
 "Come along, you small elf," said Frau von Esch- 
 enhagen. But the permission was superfluous, for 
 the young wife had already flown into her husband's 
 open arms. He bent over her affectionately and 
 whispered something in her ear. 
 
 "Are you commencing again?" scolded the 
 mother. "It is really unbearable in your presence 
 nowadays." 
 
 Marietta only turned her head, without freeing 
 herself from the embrace which held her so closely, 
 and said, roguishly : "We are celebrating our honey- 
 moon after the long separation, and you must know 
 from your own experience how people act then, 
 nicht wahr, mamma?" 
 
 Regine shrugged her shoulders. Her honeymoon
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 413 
 
 with the late Eschenhagen had been of a different 
 kind. 
 
 "You received a letter from your grandfather, 
 Marietta," she said, changing the subject; "was it 
 good news ?" 
 
 "The very best. Grandpapa is quite well and an- 
 ticipating much pleasure in his visit to Burgsdorf 
 next month. But he writes that everything is very 
 quiet around Waldhofen since Rodeck has lost its 
 master. Everything is closed and desolate since the 
 death of the young Prince. Ostwalden is lonely, 
 and Furstenstein will be deserted, too, after Toni's 
 marriage, which occurs in two weeks. Poor Uncle 
 Schonan will be all alone then." 
 
 The last words were spoken with a certain em- 
 phasis as the young wife threw a peculiar glance at 
 her mother-in-law. 
 
 That upright lady did not pay any attention to it, 
 but only remarked: "Yes, it is a strange notion of 
 Hartmut and Adelaide to live here in the pine forest 
 in a small, rented villa during the first weeks of 
 their married life, while the large castle of Ost- 
 walden and all of the Stahlberg country seats are at 
 their disposal." 
 
 "They probably wished to remain with their 
 father a little longer," said Willibald. 
 
 "Well, Falkenried could have taken a vacation in 
 this case and gone with them. Thank God that the 
 man has really come back to life, since that terrible 
 bitterness has fallen from him, and he has his son 
 again. I knew well how very hard the flight of the 
 boy struck him. He secretly idolized him, while 
 showing him only severity and requiring in turn 
 nothing but t obedience. Of course, what Hartmut 
 accomplished with that night's ride, by which he
 
 &14 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 saved his father with his troops, erases even more 
 than a senseless boy's escapade, for which the 
 mother was really to blame." 
 
 "But we are cheated out of all the wedding fes- 
 tivities in the family," pouted Marietta. "Willy 
 and I had to be married quietly because the war 
 broke out, and now, after the war has happily 
 ceased, Hartmut and Adelaide do just like it." 
 
 "My child, when one has gone through such 
 things as Hartmut has, all pleasure in festivities is 
 lost," said Frau Eschenhagen, gravely. "And, be- 
 sides, he has not fully recuperated yet. You saw 
 how pale he was at the wedding. Adelaide's first 
 marriage was, indeed, celebrated with more pomp. 
 Her father insisted upon it, in spite of his low state 
 of health, and the bride was really a queenly, if cold, 
 apparition in her satin train and her laces and dia- 
 monds. But, truly, she looked different when she 
 drew near the altar with her Hartmut, in the sim- 
 ple white silk dress and the dainty veil. I never in 
 my life saw her so lovely. Poor Herbert! He 
 never possessed the love of his wife." 
 
 "But how could one love such an old Excellency 
 in his diplomatic frock coat ? I could not have done 
 it, either," said Marietta, pertly. 
 
 But she had touched a weak point; her mother- 
 in-law held the remembrance of her brother in high 
 esteem. 
 
 "The necessity would never have come to you," 
 she remarked, with pique. "A man like Herbert 
 von Wallmoden would hardly have wooed you 
 you little saucy " 
 
 But she got no further, for the saucy little sprite 
 already hung around her neck coaxingly. 
 
 "Please don't get angry, mamma. How can I
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 415 
 
 help it that my most undiplomatic Willy is dearer to 
 me than all the Excellencies in the whole world, and 
 he is that to you, too ; eh, mamma ?" 
 
 "You little flatterer!" Regine tried in vain to 
 keep up her severe mien. "You know very well 
 that nobody can get angry with you. A regime 
 will now probably commence here at Burgsdorf 
 which has had no precedent. Willy is ashamed be- 
 fore me now, but after I am gone, he will surrender 
 to you upon grace or displeasure." 
 
 "Mamrrta, do you still cling to that idea?" asked 
 Willibald, reproachfully. "Will you go now, when 
 everything is love and peace between us ?" 
 
 "Just because of that I shall go, so that it may 
 remain. Do not oppose it, my son. I have to be 
 first where I live and work. You want to be that 
 now; therefore it is best we are not together; and 
 your little princess must not get angry about it. 
 We have heretofore had great anxiety about you, 
 and people do not quarrel when they have to tremble 
 anew each day for husband and son. But that is 
 over now, and I am still too much of the old kind to 
 fit myself to your youth. Do whatever you like, but 
 things must go as I like in my house, and therefore 
 I go." 
 
 She turned and went into the house, while the 
 young lord looked after her with a half-suppressed 
 sigh.
 
 CHAPTER LX. 
 
 "SHE is right, perhaps," Willibald said, half 
 aloud, as his mother vanished ; "but she will be un- 
 happy alone, and without the long-accustomed ac- 
 tivity. I know that she will not be able to bear the 
 enforced rest. You ought to have begged her to 
 remain, too, Marietta." 
 
 The young wife laid her curly head upon her hus- 
 band's shoulder and looked at him roguishly. 
 
 "Oh, no ; I shall do something better. I shall see 
 to it that mamma does not get unhappy when she 
 leaves us." 
 
 'You? How will you do that?" 
 "Quite easily. I shall marry mamma off." 
 "But, Marietta, what are you thinking of?" 
 "Oh, you wise Willy ; have you really not noticed 
 anything?" laughed Marietta, and it was the old, 
 silvery laugh with which she had bewitched him at 
 \Valdhofen. "And you do not know why Uncle 
 Schonan was in such a grim temper when we saw 
 him in Berlin three days ago ? And why he did not 
 want to come to Burgsdorf at all, although we 
 begged him so much? Mamma did not ask him, 
 because she feared a renewed proposal. He under- 
 stood it, and consequently he was so angry. I have 
 known all about it ever so long; even at the time 
 when mamma came to us at Waldhofen, and he told 
 her so fiercely that she would only use him as a sec- 
 ondary person at a wedding. I saw then that he 
 
 416
 
 THE SIGX OF FLAME. 417 
 
 would like to be one of the principals. Willy, you 
 are making a superb face now! You look exactly 
 as you did at the beginning of our acquaintance." 
 
 The young lord did not, indeed, look very intel- 
 lectual in his boundless surprise. He had never 
 considered the possibility of his mother marrying 
 again, and to her brother-in-law, besides! But it 
 broke upon him that this was an excellent solution 
 of the difficulty. 
 
 "Marietta, you are surpassingly clever !" he cried, 
 looking with the greatest admiration at his wife, 
 who accepted the homage with much satisfaction. 
 
 "I am even more clever than you think," she said, 
 triumphantly, "for I have put the matter to rights. 
 I got behind Uncle Schonan and gave him to under- 
 stand that if he would storm once more now, the 
 fortress would probably surrender. He grumbled 
 mightily and said that he had had enough of it and 
 did not want to be made a fool of again ; but at last 
 he reconsidered the matter. He arrived fifteen min- 
 utes ago. I did not dare tell mamma anything 
 about it, and here he is !" 
 
 She nodded to the Chief Forester, who emerged 
 upon the terrace and heard the last words. 
 
 "Yes, here I am; but take care, little woman, if 
 you have 'led me behind the light/ for" to Willi- 
 bald "I have come solely at her request. She has 
 probably given you the details about how it stands 
 with us that is, with me, for your Frau Mamma is 
 probably again unreasonable, obstinate and self- 
 willed as she usually is but I will marry her yet!" 
 
 "All right, uncle, if she will only have you,'' 
 laughed Willibald, who could not help thinking this 
 description of his mother from a wooer very pe- 
 culiar.
 
 418 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 "Yes, that is the question," said Schonan, doubt- 
 fully; "but your wife thinks " 
 
 "That we dare not lose another minute!" inter- 
 rupted Marietta. "Mamma is in her room, and has 
 no conception of the attack. Willy and I will re- 
 main in the background, and join in the battle if the 
 worst should happen. Forward, march, uncle; for- 
 ward, Willy!" 
 
 And Frau Marietta von Eschenhagen, with her 
 little, delicate hands pushed the stately Chief For- 
 ester and her huge husband forward, without more 
 ado. They patiently submitted, although Schonan 
 muttered : 
 
 "Strange how they all understand how to order 
 one about little ones as well as big ones. It must 
 be born in them." 
 
 Regine von Eschenhagen stood at the window of 
 her room, looking out upon her beloved Burgsdorf, 
 which she intended to leave in a few days. 
 
 Much as she was convinced of the wisdom of this 
 decision, it was yet not easy to execute it. The 
 strong, restlessly active woman, who had stood 
 thirty years at the head of a large work, felt a shud- 
 der at the rest and inactivity which awaited her. 
 She had been made acquainted with the city life 
 during her first separation from her son, and had 
 been very unhappy in it. 
 
 The door opened and the Chief Forester entered. 
 
 "Moritz, you here!" Regine started with sur- 
 prise. "This is sensible of you to come." 
 
 "Yes, I am always sensible," remarked Herr von 
 Schonan, very pointedly. "Although you did not 
 have the grace to invite me, I came to get your con- 
 sent to attend Toni's wedding. Of course, you will 
 come to Furstenstein with your children?"
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 419 
 
 "Yes, certainly we will come; but we were all 
 much surprised at this haste. Did you not intend 
 to buy an estate first? And that is not usually ac- 
 complished so quickly." 
 
 "No, but they want to get married. Our victors 
 have become very assuming- since their heroic deeds. 
 Waldorf simply declared upon his return, 'Papa, 
 you said when I left, First win in war and then 
 marry ; now we have won and now I want to marry. 
 I'll not wait any longer. The estate has time to 
 wait, but not the wedding, for that is the most im- 
 portant.' So, since Toni is also convinced of this 
 importance, nothing was left for me to do but to 
 name the wedding day." 
 
 Frau von Eschenhagen laughed. 
 
 "Yes, young people are quick to marry, and they 
 have so much time to wait." 
 
 "But it is not so with older folks," said Schonan, 
 who had only been looking for this opportunity and 
 speedily made use of it. "Have you considered the 
 question at last, Regine?" 
 
 "What question?" 
 
 "Our marrying. I hope you are now in the 
 'humor' for it?" 
 
 Regine turned away, somewhat offended. 
 
 "You like to be abrupt, Moritz. How did you 
 get into the notion so suddenly?" 
 
 "What ! you call that sudden ?" the Chief Fores- 
 ter cried, indignantly. "I made my first proposal to 
 you five years ago; the second one last year, and 
 now I come for the third time, and yet you have not 
 had sufficient time to consider. Yes or no ? If you 
 send me away this time, I shall not come backde- 
 pend upon that and the whole courtship can go 
 where it wants to,"
 
 420 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 Regine did not answer, but it was not indecision 
 which made her hesitate. Even this strange, orig- 
 inal nature had a spice of deep romance in her heart 
 love for the man who was once to be her husband, 
 Hartmut von Falkenried. When he had married 
 another, she too had pledged her hand, for she was 
 not the kind to mourn her life away uselessly; but 
 the same bitter pain which had stung the young girl 
 when she approached the altar, awoke now again in 
 the aging woman and closed her lips; but it lasted 
 only a few moments, then she threw the dream 
 from her with decision, and stretched out her hand 
 to von Schonan. 
 
 "Well, then, yes, Moritz. I will be a good and 
 true wife to you." 
 
 "Thank God !" cried Schonan, with a deep sigh of 
 relief, for he had taken the hesitation as a prelim- 
 inary to a third refusal. "You should have said 
 that five years ago, Regine, but better late than 
 never. At last we have gotten so far." 
 
 And with that the persistent wooer enclosed the 
 finally won life companion in a hearty embrace.
 
 CHAPTER LXI. 
 
 IT was a hot summer day. Even in the forest 
 one felt something of the intense heat which flick- 
 ered upon meadows and fields. Upon the forest 
 path a little group walked beneath the tall firs. It 
 was General Falkenried, with his son and daughter, 
 who were accompanying him a part of the way to 
 Burgsdorf, where he intended making a visit. 
 
 Falkenried had indeed become another person. 
 
 The war which had been fatal to so many, and 
 made others old before their time, in spite of the 
 victories and triumphs won, appeared to have been a 
 source of rejuvenation to him. Although the white 
 hair and deep furrows in the face remained, wit- 
 nesses not to be erased of a painful time, yet the 
 face had life in it again ; the eyes had regained their 
 old fire, and one saw now at the first glance that the 
 man was not so old, but stood yet in the fulness and 
 power of life. 
 
 Hartmut had not yet entirely recovered, as his 
 appearance proved. The campaign had not made 
 him younger. He looked older and graver, and the 
 still pale face, with the broad red scar upon the fore- 
 head, spoke of a time of heavy suffering. 
 
 The wound in itself had not been serious, but had 
 become so through the severe loss of blood, and the 
 overexertion of the ride in the night of the severe 
 cold, so that at first all hope had been abandoned. 
 
 421
 
 422 THE SIGtf OF FLAME. 
 
 and it required months of careful nursing to give 
 Hartmut back to life. 
 
 But the old Hartmut, the son of Zalika, with his 
 wild blood and unbridled desire for freedom, had 
 also died in this time of suffering. It seemed as if 
 with the name Rojanow, which he had cast forever 
 from him, the unfortunate inheritance from the 
 mother had also been lost. The heavy, dark curls 
 were just beginning to grow again, and the high, 
 powerful forehead appeared more striking in its re- 
 semblance to his father. 
 
 But the young wife at his side bloomed in the 
 fullest beauty of youth and happiness. Whoever 
 had seen her in her cold hauteur her icy, unap- 
 proachable manner, would hardly have recognized 
 her in this bright, slender woman, in her light sum- 
 mer costume, with fresh forest flowers in her hand. 
 
 The smile and tone with which she spoke to her 
 husband and father had never been known to Frau 
 von Wallmoden; they had been learned only by 
 Adelaide von Falkenried. 
 
 "Not any farther, now," said the General, paus- 
 ing in their walk. "You have to take the return 
 walk, and Hartmut must still be careful. The phy- 
 sicians request that he be very prudent." 
 
 "Father, if you only knew how depressing it feels 
 to be considered an invalid still, when I already feel 
 full of life and power! I am really well." 
 
 "Do not place in jeopardy again what has been 
 so hardly won," continued the father. "You have 
 not yet learned patience, but fortunately I know 
 you are under Ada's supervision, and she is strict 
 on this subject." 
 
 "Yes, had it not been for Ada, there probably 
 would not have been anything to take care of," sai4
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 423 
 
 Hartmut, with a look of deepest affection upon his 
 wife. "I believe I was in rather a hopeless condi- 
 tion when she came to me." 
 
 "The physicians, at least, gave me no hope when 
 I sent off the dispatch which called Ada to your 
 side. You called for her in your first conscious 
 moment, to my boundless surprise, for I did not 
 dream that you ever knew each other." 
 
 "Was it not right to you, Papa?" asked the 
 young wife, looking smilingly up to the father, who 
 drew her to his breast and pressed a kiss upon her 
 brow. 
 
 "You know best what you are to Hartmut and 
 me, my child. I thanked God that I could leave him 
 under your nursing when I had to march on. And 
 you were right, too, when you persuaded him to re- 
 main here, although the doctors wished to send him 
 away. He has to learn to feel at home first in the 
 fatherland must learn to understand and love 
 again that from which he has so long been 
 estranged." 
 
 "Has to learn it?" said Ada reproachfully. 
 "What he read to you and me to-day I should think 
 would show that he has learned it already, and that 
 this new work bears another language from the 
 wild, glowing Arivana." 
 
 "Yes, Hartmut, your new work is of great 
 merit," said Falkenried, giving his hand to his son. 
 "I believe the fatherland will be proud of my boy, 
 even in times of peace." 
 
 Hartmut's eyes sparkled as he returned the 
 pressure of the hand. He knew what praise from 
 his father's lips was worth. 
 
 "And now, good-by." The General kissed his 
 daughter-in-tew again, "I will drive from Burgs-
 
 424 THE SIGN OP FLAME. 
 
 clorf directly to town, but we shall see each other in 
 a few days again. Farewell, children !" 
 
 When he had disappeared behind the trees, Hart- 
 mut and Adelaide turned on their homeward way, 
 which led them by the Burgsdorf pond. Involun- 
 tarily they paused beside it, and gazed upon the 
 calm sheet of water which lay so shiningly in the 
 sun with its wreath of rushes and water lilies. 
 
 "I have played boys' games here so often with 
 Willy," said Hartmut softly, "and here my future 
 was decided on that fatal night. I realize only no\v 
 what I did to my father in that unfortunate hour." 
 
 "But you have atoned for it fully," returned Ada, 
 leaning her head on her husband's shoulder. "It 
 has been wiped out before the world, too, which 
 overwhelmed you and father on all sides with ad- 
 miration and appreciation when it was known who 
 had done that heroic deed." 
 
 Hartmut shook his head gravely. 
 
 "It was a deed of despair, not heroism. I did not 
 believe that it would succeed nobody believed it; 
 but even if I had fallen I should have regained my 
 lost honor by that ride through the enemy. Egon 
 knew that, and for that reason he put the rescue into 
 my hands. When we said farewell that icy winter 
 night in the shattered walls of the little chapel, we 
 both felt that it was a final farewell, but we thought, 
 too, that I should be the victim, for I went into al- 
 most certain death. Fate decreed differently. I 
 was borne as by spirit hands through the dangers 
 to the accomplishment of my aim, and almost at the 
 same hour Egon fell. You need not hide your tears 
 from me, Ada; I am not jealous of the dead, for I 
 loved him just as he loved you." 
 
 "Eugene brought me his last greeting," said the
 
 THE SIGN OF FLAME. 
 
 young wife, in whose eyes shone the tears she had 
 wished to conceal from her husband. "And Stad- 
 inger, too, wrote me to fulfill his dying master's last 
 request. I fear the old man will not live much 
 longer; his letter sounded as if he were utterly 
 crushed." 
 
 "Poor Egon !" In Hartmut's voice sounded the 
 deep pain he felt for his friend. "He was so full of 
 sunny happiness and joy; he was created for it and 
 to give it. Perhaps you would have been happier 
 at his side, Ada, than with your wild, passionate 
 Hartmut, who will trouble you often enough with 
 the dark side of his nature." 
 
 Ada smiled up at him with the tears still in her 
 eyes. "But I love this wild, stormy Hartmut, and 
 do not desire any greater happiness than to be his 
 wife." 
 
 The forest lake lay in dreamy noonday stillness; 
 grave and dark stood the old firs over it ; the rushes 
 at its border whispered low, and thousands of bright 
 sparkles danced upon its surface. 
 
 Above it curved the blue sky into which the boy 
 had once wished to soar like the falcon of which his 
 race bore the name, higher and higher to the sun. 
 It beamed, too, now up there in shining splendor 
 the powerful, eternal sign of flame in the heavens! 
 
 [THE END.]
 
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