Black diamonds, a novel;

Sone ————___—— : = SS
E Miesipe eae x ae le> 5. ee
See ee. ——- SS aes

aes

TS ae ee

Rey eh eee ae Ne

i
i}
My

te

HABUTHP OVA
le pe ae rt

i!
,

An
|

— >
eae, =

Se

SSS

an nen ae eee

>.

w. archive org/details/blackdiamondsnovO0jkuoft

A) “ +h : rs ‘<} e
y _

-

MAURUS JOKAI

THE CONTINENTAL CLASSICS

VOLUME IX

BLACK DIAMONDS

A NOVEL

BY

MAURUS JOKAI

TRANSLATED BY

FRANCES A. GERARD

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK AND LONDON

CONTENTS

CHAPTER
en NG PLACE oo. we ns ie eters
Il. THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS
Bey Re DOAN-RATER 36% 86d Sis
IV. A MoperN ALCHEMIST. : .5 ..", i.
ee SPOCTOR 5) fee. vets te ic bt 8

VI. CounTEss THEUDELINDE . ... .
VII. THE CountreEss’s ALBUM
aa MERORCIST RS: sgl ich SSS wis
IX. ‘‘AN OBSTINATE FELLOW” , ...
X. THe HIGHER MATHEMATICS. . ,
XI. SorrfEs AMALGAMANTES ....
cere MAGNET. 5 gale «0.0 «
ars Ce BM SRIVEE SS ee 8 4
XIV. THIRTY-THREE PARTS, . ... -
ee ee Se ENRS. <5 sa) eee we ees
XVI. GooD-BYE . ores ~~
XVII. THe Last REHEARSAL. . . .. .
XVIII. FINANCIAL WisDOM. ..... -«
PEE BME Th ps eve ee 6 6
i MCC SEO ti Ee ete PG Sa Se a
XXL. Respect FoR HALINA CLOTH .. .
ake 2 WO SOPPIANTES 3 6 8 Ge

132
146
155

189

225
232
245
253
259
278
291
301

iv
CHAPTER
XXIII.
XXIV.
XXV.
XXVI.
XXVII.
XXVIII.
XXIX.
XXX.
XXXI.
XXXII.
XXXIII.
XXXIV.
XXXV.
XXXVI.
XXXVII.
XXXVIII.
XXXIX.
XL.
XLI.
XLII,
XLIII.

- CONTENTS

FINANCIAL INTRIGUE .

THE BONDAVARA RAILWAY.

THE Poor DEAR PRINCE.

Dies IR# . Maree ss Ae Ree
FROM THE SUBLIME To THE RIDICULOUS .
Two CHILDREN. ... -«

IMMACULATE s\<. jetta \e 6 8 =

MAN “Mp ‘WIFE. (cc eee hs eee

EVA DIREMAL. 003-0 Soe a) es
CRUSHED 20:6 0:. 9). ee bue oe 4 aoe
CHARCOAL. «6 0)\s \o Notas (rae eee
CsANTA’S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT,

THE GROUND BURNS UNDER His FEET. . .
CRrILD’s. PLAY... s:. s° Ud ae eee
EUREKA. -« « wi © Ww =) 5.4) 3 Lee
AT Pam. . -¢ 2 Fee ee eee
THE UNDERGROUND WORLD. ..... -
ANGELA IS EVEN WITH IVAN . ... .
How IvAN MOURNED. ......
EVILA..< <° «he Wermetra, SRR oe
THE DIAMOND REMAINED ALWAYS A DIAMOND

_ BLACK DIAMONDS .

BLACK DIAMONDS

eneent

CHAPTER I

A BLACK PLACE

WE are in the depths of an underground cavern. It
is bad enough to be underground, but here we are all
enveloped in black as well: the ceiling is black, so are
the walls ; they are made of blocks of coal. The floor
is one great black looking-glass. It is a sort of pond,
polished as steel. Over this polished surface glistens
the reflection of a solitary light, the light of a safety-
lamp shining through a wire net.

A man guides himself over the pond in a narrow
boat. By the doubtful light of the lamp he sees high
pillars, which rise out of the depths below and reach to
the very roof of the cavern—pillars slender, like the
columns of a Moorish palace. These pillars are half
white and half black; up to a certain point only are
they coal black, beyond that they are light in color.

What are these pillars?

They are the stems of pines and palm-trees, These
gigantic stems are quite at home in the layers over the
coal-mine, but how have they descended here? They
belong to another world—the world of light and air,

i

2 BLACK DIAMONDS

The coal layers overhead sometimes take fire of them-
selves, and the fire, being intense, has loosened the hold
of these giants and sent them below.

Coal-pits kindle of themselves often, as every novice
knows, but in this case who extinguished the flames?
That is the question.

The solitary occupant of the rudely shaped boat or
canoe goes restlessly here and there, up and down. He
is a man of about thirty years, with a pale face and a
dark beard. His firmly closed lips give him an expres-
sion of earnestness, or strong, decided will; while his
forehead, which is broad, with large bumps over the eyes,
shows that heis a deep thinker. His head is uncovered,
for here in this vault the air is heavy, and his curly
black hair is in thick masses, so that he needs no cover-
ing.

_ What is he doing here?

He drives his boat over the black looking-glass of the
lake; round and round he goes, searching the black
walls with anxiety, his lamp raised in his disengaged
hand. Does he imagine that a secret is hidden there?
Does he think that by touching a spring, and saying
“Open Sesame,” the treasure hidden there for hundreds
of years will spring forth ?

In truth, he does find treasures. Here and there
from the black wall—weakly constructed in some places
by Nature’s hand—a piece of stone loosens itself—upon
it the impression of a leaf belonging to a long-ago-ex-
tinct species. A wonderful treasure this! In other
places he comes upon unknown crystals, to which
science has not as yet given a name; or upon a new
conglomeration of different quartz, metal, and stone—a
silent testimony to a convulsion of Nature before this
world was.. All these witnesses speak.

A BLACK PLACE 3

The pillars, too; over them the water of the pond
has by degrees formed a crustation of crystals, small, but
visible even without a glass. This, too, gives testimony.

The pond is in itself wonderful. It has ebb and
flow: twice in the day it empties itself; twice in the
day it fills. The water rushes in leaps and bounds,
joyously, tumultuously, into this dark, sullen vault; fills
it higher, higher, until it reaches the point on the pil-
lars where the color changes. There it remains, some-
times for two hours, stationary, smooth, and placid as a
glass. Then it begins to sink, slowly, surely, until it
vanishes away into the secret hiding-places from whence
it has come: Curious, mysterious visitor! The man
in the boat knows its ways; he has studied them. He
waits patiently, until, with a sullen, gurgling sound, as
if lamenting the necessity, the last current of water
vanishes behind a projecting mass of coal. Then he
hurriedly casts off his coat, his shoes, his stockings ;
he has nothing on but his shirt and trousers. He fas-
tens round him a leather pocket, in which is a hammer
and chisel; he takes his safety-lamp and fastens it to
his belt; and, so equipped, he glides into one of the
fissures in the black rock. He is following the vanish-
ing stream. He is a courageous man to undertake such
a task, for his way lies through the palace of death. It
needs a heart of stone to be there alone in the awful
silence. It is a strong motive that brings him. He is
seeking the secret which lies under seven seals, the
treasure which Nature has concealed for thousands of
years. But this man knows not what fear is. He re-
mains three hours seeking. If he had any one—a wife,
a sister, even a faithful servant, who knew where he
was, what danger he was in, how their souls would have
gone out in agony of fear for what might happen!

4 BLACK DIAMONDS

But he has no one; he is alone—always alone. There
is no one to weep for his absence or to be joyful at his
coming ; his life is solitary, in the clear air of daylight as
well as in the depths of the cavern.

The vanished stream is as capricious as a coquettish
maiden, as full of tricks and humors. Sometimes it
does not show itself for three or four hours; at other
moments it comes frolicking back in one, and woe to the
unfortunate wight who is caught in its embrace in the
narrow windings of the coal-vault! But this man knows
the humors of the stream; he has studied them. He
and it are old acquaintances; he knows the signs upon
which he can depend, and he knows how long the pause
will last. Hecan gauge its duration by the underground
wind. When it whistles through the clefts and fissures,
then he knows the stream is at hand. Should he wait
until the shrill piping ceases, then he is a dead man.

In the darkness a ghostly sound is heard—it is like a
long-drawn sigh, the far-away sobbing of an olian
harp; and immediately the shimmer of the lamp is seen
coming nearer and nearer, and in a minute the mysteri-
ous searcher of the hidden secret appears.

His countenance is paler than before—deathly; and
drops of sweat course down his forehead and cheeks,
Down below the air must be heavier in the cavern, or
the nightmare of the abyss has caused this cold damp.
He throws his well-filled wallet into the boat, and seats
himself in it again.

It was time. Scarcely has he taken his place when a
gurgling is heard, and out of the fissures of the rock
comes a gush of black water, shooting forth with a loud,
bubbling noise. Then follows a few minutes’ pause, and
again another gush of water. The cavern is filling rapid.
ly. In a short time, over the smooth surface of the wall,

A BLACK PLACE 8

the watermark shows itself. Clear as a looking-glass it
rises, noiselessly, surely, until it has reached the black
line upon the pillars.

The boat, with its silent, watchful occupant, floats
upon the water like the ghost of the cavern. The water
is not like ordinary water ; it is heavy like metal. The
boat moves slowly, only now the rower does not care to
look into the depths of the black looking-glass ; he pays
no attention to the mysterious signs on the walls. He
is occupied taking stock of the air about him, which is
growing denser every moment, and he looks carefully at
his safety-lamp, but it is closely shut. No escape there.

There is a great fog all round the lamp. The air in
this underground abyss takes a blue shade. The man
in the boat knows well what this means. The flame of
the safety-lamp flares high, and the wick turns red—bad
signs these! The angel of death is hovering near.

Two spirits dwell in these subterranean regions—-two
fearfully wicked spirits. The pitmen call one Stormy
Weather, the other Bad Weather; and these two evil
spirits haunt every coal-mine, under different names.
Bad Weather steals upon its victim, lies like a thick
vapor upon his chest, follows the miner step by step,
takes away his breath and his speech, laughs at his
alarm, and vanishes, when it has reached its height, just
as suddenly as it came. Stormy Weather is far more
cruel—fearful. It comes like a whirlwind ; it sets every-
thing in a flame, kindles the lumps of coal, shatters the
vaults, destroys the shaft, burns the ground, and dashes
human beings to pieces. Those who gain their liveli-
hood by working underground can never tell when they
may meet one or other of these evil spirits.

The secret of “stormy weather,” whence it comes,
when it may come, no man has yet discovered, It is

6 BLACK DIAMONDS

believed that it arises from the contact of the hydrogen
gases with the acid gases which are contained in the
open air; and “‘ bad weather” needs only a spark to turn
into “stormy weather.” The thoughtless opening of a
safety-lamp, the striking of a match, is sufficient to fuse
the two evil spirits into one.

The solitary man whom we have been shadowing sees,
with an anxiety that increases every moment, how the air
becomes more and more the color of an opal. Already
it is enveloping him in a thin cloud. He does not wait
for the flood to_rise to its highest point, for, when he
reaches a place in the wall where a sort of landing-stage
has been made, he jumps upon it, draws the boat by its
chain, and moors it fast, and then, ascending by some
rude steps to a strong iron door, he opens it with a key,
and, closing it behind him, finds himself in a passage
which leads him straight into the pit.

Here he is in a busy world, very different from the
solitude he has left. The streets, which are narrow and
close, are full of miners hard at work with their hammers.
The men are nearly naked, the boys who push the wag-
ons are wholly so, There is no sound heard but that of
the never-ceasing hammers. In the mine there are no
jolly songs, no hearty laughter. Over the mouth of each
miner a thick cloth is tied, through which he breathes.

Some of the passages are so narrow that the worker
is obliged to lie upon his back, and in this position to
reach the coal with his pick. When he has loosened it
he drops it into the little wagon, which the naked boys,
crawling upon their stomachs, push before them to the
opening.

The man who has come out of the dark cavern does
not differ in dress from any of the others. He is clothed,
certainly, but his clothes are covered with coal-dust, his

A BLACK PLACE 4

hands are just as coarse, and he carries a pick and a
hammer on his shoulder. Nevertheless, they all know
him; there is a rough civility in the tone of each man as
he answers the other’s greeting, ‘“‘Good-evening. Bad
Weather is coming.”

The word is repeated all round.

It was true. Bad Weather was close at hand, and
these men and boys, who quietly come and go, hammer,
shove the wagons, lie on their backs, all know, as well as
the convict who is awaiting the execution of his sen-
tence, that death is near.

The heavy, damp fog which lies upon each man’s
chest, and which fills the mine with its unwholesome
smell, needs only a spark, and those who now live and
move are dead men, buried underground, while overhead
a hundred widows and orphans weep and clamor for
their lost ones.

And yet, knowing this, the miners continue calmly to
work, as if quite unconscious that the dread Angel of
Death is hovering about them.

The man who has just entered is Ivan Behrend, the
owner of the mine. He unites in himself the office of
overseer, director, surveyor, and bookkeeper. He has
enough to do; but we all know the proverb, and, if we
have lived long enough, have tested its truth, “If you
want a thing well done, do it yourself.” Moreover, it is
an encouragement to the worker if he sees his employer
go shoulder to shoulder with him in the work. There-
fore, as we have just seen, the master greets all his
workmen with the words, “Bad Weather is coming,” and
they all know that the master does not consider Ais life
of more value than theirs; he does not fly and leave
them all the danger, because he is the owner and gets
all the profit. Quietly, with the most perfect composure,

8 BLACK DIAMONDS

he gives his orders—the ventilators are to be opened—a
charge of cool air at once to the heated coal; and the
workers are to go off work after three instead of six
hours. He gets into the pail, covered with buffalo-skin,
and lets himself down to the bottom of the shaft, to see
if the new openings are dangerous. He turns over care-
fully with an iron bar the coal-dust, to try if any of it is
heated, or if gas is there concealed which might cause
an explosion. Then, as the ventilators below and the
air-pump above begin to work, he takes his place at the
anometer. This is a tender little machine, something
like the humming-top of children. Its axle turns upon
a ruby, and the spring’ sets a wheel with a hundred teeth
in motion ; the velocity of this wheel shows the strength
of the current of air in the shaft. It should neither
be stronger nor weaker than the motion of the “bad
weather.”

He has now seen to everything ; he has taken every
precaution, he has left nothing to chance, and, when all
the miners have quitted the pit, he is the last to ascend
in the basket to the fresh air and the daylight.

Fresh air—daylight !

In Bondavara the sun never shines, the shadow of the
smoke hangs like a thick cloud over the land; it is a
black country, painted in chalk. \The roads are black
with coal-tracks; the houses are black from the coal-
dust, which the wind carries here and there from the
large coal warehouses; the men and the women are
black. It is a wonder the birds over there in the woods
are not black also.

The mouth of the Bondavara pit is on the slope of a
hill, which, when you ascend it, gives you a fine view
over the whole country. On the other side, in the val-
ley, are the tall chimneys of the distilling-ovens, These.

A BLACK PLACE mY

chimneys are busy night and day, vomiting forth smoke,
sometimes white, but generally coal-black ; for here is
distilled the sulphur which forms a component of the
coal.

The metal can only be melted when in this condition.
One of the principal customers of the coal-mine is the
iron-foundry on the neighboring mountain, which has
five chimneys from which the smoke issues. If the
hammer throws up white smoke, then the oven distils
black smoke, and so contrariwise. Both factories work-
ing together cast over the valley a continuous veil of
cloud and smoke, through which even the beams of the
sun look brown and dingy.

From the foundry flows a rusty-red stream, and out of
the coal-mine another, which is as black as ink. In the
valley both these streams unite and continue their course
together. For a little the rusty-red tries to get the bet-
ter of the inky-black, but it has to give up, and the black
rivulet flows on triumphantly through the black meadow
lands.

It is a most depressing landscape, and it is saddening
to reflect that in such a place men have grown from child-
hood to middle age, from middle age to old age, and have
never seen the green fields or the blue sky of God’s
heaven.

But Ivan Behrend, when he ascended from the pit into
the open air, found little contrast between the upper and
the under ground. Below, there was the stifling’ smell
of gas; above, a suffocating fog: below, the black vault
of the mine; above, the murky vault of the heavens:
and the same men above and below.

It was then evening; the sun had gone down, and for
the moment even the vile smoke could not rob it of its
setting glory. The towers of the distant castle of Bon-

to BLACK DIAMONDS |

davara were touched with its gleam, and the chimneys
of the distilling-houses were aglow with this crimson
light. The miners were standing about idly; the women
and the girls, who are employed in shoving the wheel-
barrows, sat gossiping together, as is the manner of the
sex. One of them, a young girl, began to sing—a sim-
ple little song, with simple words. It was a Slav volks-
lied—a sort of romance. A mother is taking leave of
her daughter, a bride of a few hours; she recalls to the
girl her childish days and her mother’s care in these

words:
‘*Wenn ich das Haar dir strich,

Zerr’ ich am Haare dich?
Wenn ich dich wusch, mein Kind,
War ich je ungelind ?”

The melody was touching, with the sad strain that all
the Slav music has, as if composed with tears ; and the
voice of the one who sang was musica] and full of feel-
ing. Ivan stopped to listen to the song until the singer
and her companions disappeared behind the houses.

At this moment it seemed to him that there was a
great difference between life underground and life in the
open.

The song still sounded in the distance; the clouds
had passed over and extinguished the light of the set-
ting sun, enveloping the landscape in total darkness.
No star, no white house; only the light from the win-_
dows of the foundry lighted up the darkness of night;
and the smoke of the distilling-factory rose from the
chimneys and cast yellow circles upon the sky.

—

CHAPTER II
THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS

THERE is nothing startling or new in the declaration
that when we speak of “ black diamonds” we mean coa/.
That beautiful, brilliant stone, the diamond, is made of
carbon. So is your house-coal—the only difference
being, the one is transparent, the other black; and the
first is the demon, the last the angel.

Coal moves the world. The spirit of progress comes
from it; railroads, steamboats borrow from it their
wonderful strength. Every machine that is, and works,
has its existence from coal. It makes the earth habi-
table ; it gives to the great cities their mighty blaze and
splendor. It is a treasure, the last gift presented by
earth to extravagant man. ~

Therefore it is that we call coal “ black diamonds.”

Ivan Behrend, the owner of the Bondavara coal-mine,
was not exactly in the condition of some of his pitmen.
He had seen God’s heaven, and knew how in happier
lands life was bright, careless, sunny as the cloudless
sky itself. But for an existence which was all play and
no work, Ivan would not have cared. He had inherited ’
the coal-mine from his father, who had left him also an
inheritance of a strong will and inflexible perseverance.
No trifle, nor even a great obstacle, could stand in the
way of Ivan’s wishes, and his wish and his pride was to
work the Bondavara mine without any help but what

i2 BLACK DIAMONDS

his pitmen gave him. It was his ambition—perhaps a
foolish one—to have no company at his back, no share-
holders to find fault, no widows and orphans to be in-
volved in possible ruin; the mine was his, and his it
should be absolutely. Therefore it was a quiet busi-
ness. The foundry and the inhabitants of the nearest
town consumed the yearly output at an uncommonly
low price. It never could be, unless with enormous
outlay, a great money-making business, seeing that the
mine was too far away from any of the great centres.
Nevertheless, it brought in a steady income, especially
as Ivan paid no useless expenses, and was, as we have
said, his own overseer and accountant. He knew every- .
thing that went on, he understood his own business per-
fectly, and he took a pleasure in looking after his own
affairs; and these three qualifications, as any business
man knows, insure ultimate success.

It was well, however, that he enjoyed such good
health, and that this superabundance of vital energy
kept him always occupied, and, by a natural conse-
quence, never dull. There was no denying that it was
a solitary life for so young a man.

Ivan was very little over thirty, and when he opened
the door of his small house with his key, and closed the
door behind him, he was alone. He hadn’t even a dog
to come and greet him. He waited upon himself; and
in this he was a great man. Eating he looked upon as
an unnecessary waste of time; nevertheless, he ate a
great deal, for his muscular and mental system needed
food. He was not delicate in his appetite. He dined
every day at the tavern. His food was very little better
than that of his pitmen, the only difference being that
he avoided the strong drinks they indulged in—for this
reason, that they worked only with their bodies ; he had

THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS 13

to bring to his work a clear intellect, not a soddened
one. His bed needed no making. It was a wooden .
plank, upon which a mattress was placed, covered with a
sheep-skin. There was no use in brushing his clothes ;
they were always permeated with coal-dust.

Any one who would offer, by way of doing him a
service, to clear out his room, would, in fact, have done
him a deadly injury. It was full of every sort of thing
—new books half cut, minerals, scientific instruments,
plans, pictures, retorts. Not one of these should be
moved from its place. There was order in the disorder,
and in the heterogeneous mass Ivan could find what he
wanted. In one corner was Lavoisier’s pyrometer; in
another Berard’s gas food-warmer. Over there a won-
derful sun-telescope ; against the wall Bunsen’s galvanic
battery, together with every conceivable invention, every
sort of chemical apparatus for analyzing and searching
into the mysteries of Nature.

Amongst these things Ivan was wont to spend the
long nights. Another man, tired as he must have been
with his day’s work, would have flung himself upon his
bed, and have sought in sleep some compensation for
the labors of the day, or if not weary enough for this,
would have sat before his door and breathed the fresh
air, which at night was free from smoke and coal-dust.
But this student of the unseen withdrew into his inner
chamber, lit his fire, made his lamp blaze, and busied
himself breaking lumps of coal, cooking seeds, develop-
ing deadly gases, a breath of which was enough to send
a man into eternity.

What was it he searched for? Was he seeking the
secret of the philosopher’s stone? Did he abandon
sleep to find out how diamonds can be made out of
coal? Did he strive to extract deadly poisons, or was

14 BLACK DIAMONDS

he simply pursuing the zgnis fatuus of knowledge—try-
ing experiments, grubbing in the dark until, in the hope-
less endeavor, the over-strained brain would give way,
and there would be only the wreck of what was once a
noble intellect?

Nothing of the sort. This man had a purpose; he
wanted to learn a secret which would be of infinite
benefit to mankind—at least, to those who are buried
in the pits and caverns of the earth. He wanted to
find out by what means it would be possible to extin-
guish fire in burning pits. To discover this he con-
sumed his nights and the years of his youth and his
manhood. It was no thought born of to-day or yester-
day; it had been his one desire for many years. He had
seen so much misery, such heartrending scenes enacted
before these pit mouths—these monsters which swallow
up human life like the Juggernauts of old. He wanted
to prevent this amount of sacrifice—a sacrifice never
thought of by those who profit from the labor of these
victims, whose very blood is spilled to keep others warm.
It is possible this one idea might drive him mad, or he
might lose his life; but the knowledge, if he did gain
it, would be, in his opinion, worth the loss. After all,
what is the loss of one life against the saving of mill-
ions? This man had a fine nature; there was no tinge
of self in Ivan Behrend. Also, he had a certain enjoy-
ment in his search. Enjoyment is not the word.
Whenever he got even a glimpse of what he wanted, his
joy was something unearthly. Surely these moments
were worth all the pleasures the world could offer him ;
and if we can bring our minds to understand this, then
we shall comprehend how a young man preferred to be
shut up in a cavern, in danger of losing his life, or in
a stifling room, trying risky experiments, rather than

THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS I 5

spend the night with beautiful maidens or pleasant
fellows, drinking, dancing, and love-making. There is
a charm in Science to those who know her that far sur-
passes carnal joys.

To-night, however, it must be confessed, Ivan’s ex-
periments fell a little flat. Either he was tired, or some
other cause was at work. Could it be possible that a
girl’s song— Yes, such was the humiliating condition
of affairs. At the moment when he least expected it,
this thing had unexpectedly seized upon him.

With an effort Ivan lit his lamp and lighted his fur-
nace. His experiments, however, were a failure. That
girl’s song kept running in his head, and the words—
how did they go?

** Say when I smoothed thy hair,
Showed I not tender care?
Say when I dressed my child,

Was I not fond and mild ?’*

It was very pretty, and the voice wonderful—so sweet
and clear and melodious. To-morrow evening she
might be at the pit’s mouth again, and then he would
find out her name. Even if she were not there, the
other girls would know ; there were not so many singers
among them.

** Say when I smoothed thy hair’—
Oh, he could settle down to nothing with this tiresome

song !—
** Showed I not tender care ?”

He wished he had seen her face, merely to know if it
matched the voice. Very likely not. She would be

* These lines have been kindly translated from the original by
Miss Troutbeck,

16 BLACK DIAMONDS

hard-featured, like the other girls—bold, unwomanly
creatures ; beauty and modesty were rare gifts in Bon-
davara.

The next day Ivan was early at the pit. The opening
of the air-oven had done its work ; there was only a frac-
tional quantity of hydrogen mixed with the pit air. The
ventilators could be shut, and Ivan was able to spend
some time in the open.

At twelve o’clock the bell rang to leave off work. As
the girls came from the wheelbarrows, he again heard
the clear young voice singing the same song. He had
not been wrong as to the voice; it was fresh and lovely,
like the blackbird in the woods, uneducated and un-
spoiled, but full of natural charm, tender and joyous as
the feathered songster. He could now see the singer—
a very young girl, not more than sixteen. The common
blue bodice she wore showed every undulation of her
girlish figure, untrammelled by any fashionable stays.
Her short red skirt, tucked up on one side, and fastened
to her waist, disclosed her still shorter chemise, which
only reached to her knees, so that her legs were uncoy-
ered. They might have been modelled for a statue of
Hebe, so perfect were they in shape—the ankles small,
and little feet beautifully rounded, like a child’s. About
her head the girl had wound a colored cloth, and under
this she had tucked away her hair; her face, like those
of her companions, was blackened by the coal-dust, but
even this enemy to beauty could not disfigure her. You
could see that her features were regular, her eyebrows
thick and dark, her lips red. There was a mixture of
earthly dirt and supernatural beauty about this child ;
besides, she had one thing that even coal-dust could not
conceal or dim, her eyes—her large black eyes—shining
like two diamonds, which lit up the darkness as two stars,

THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS 17

As these wonderful eyes met Ivan’s glance, it seemed
to that philosopher as if these diamonds cut away a por-
tion of the glass phial in which he had preserved his
heart, and so kept it untouched up to this. But he did
not know that this was only the beginning; his glass
protector will soon lie in fragments all round him.

The girl made a little curtsey to her employer, and ac-
companied this small act of duty with a smile which
showed two rows of beautiful, pearly-white teeth.

Ivan felt like an enchanted knight in a fairy tale. He
forgot what had brought him here, and what he wanted
to say ; he remained rooted to the spot, gazing blankly
after the retreating figure of the girl and her companions.
He hoped, without exactly defining what his hope was,
that she would look back. That little action would have
broken the charm under which he lay. But she did not
look back, although one of her companions called her by
her name, “ Evila.” Ivan could see them talking to her,
whispering, no doubt, about him. This did not seem to
rouse any curiosity in her. She and they had now come
to an open shed. Here they seated themselves upon
the ground, took out of their pockets pieces of black
bread and wild apples, and ate their meal with as much
zest as if it had been chicken and grapes.

Ivan returned to his house. For the first time in his
life it struck him how lonely it was. It was his custom
to keep a sort of log-book, in which he entered his per-
sonal notes upon all his work-people. He found this
practice very necessary; he knew that a skilled work-
man of good conduct is far more useful at high wages
than a lazy, good-for-nothing fellow of doubtful charac-
ter who would come for half the wage. At the footnote
by the name “ Evila” he read—

“ A young orphan; supports a crippled brother younger

2

18 BLACK DIAMONDS

than herself, who goes upon crutches, and whose tongtie
is paralyzed. She is very steady, and does not go to the
town.”

It was certain, therefore, that he must have seen this
child before, but had given no attention to her. Every
Saturday he paid every workman, every girl and lad in
the pit ; how, then, had he escaped noticing those won-
derful eyes? He did not know, learned as he was, that
there is an affinity between two souls destined for one
another. It is like an electric shock, this sudden birth
of love ; but Ivan ridiculed such an idea. Love? Non-
‘sense! He in love with a girl out of the pit? Ridicu-
lous! It was compassion, merely pity for a pretty child,
left without either father or mother to watch over her
tender age, and, still worse, with a deformed brother to
care for and provide with food and medicines. Nodoubt
she gave him the best of everything, while she had to be
content with black bread and wild apples, and all the
time remained an honest, steady girl. She never even
turned her head to look after him. There was nothing
but pity in his heart for this coal-black Naiad ; it was
only pity made him wish to cover those tender little feet
with proper shoes ; it was only a proper regard for the.
weakest among his work-people which would cause him
to make inquiries as to this poor forlorn child. Oh, self-
deception, what a part you play in men’s hearts!

The following Saturday the workers came to receive
their weekly wages. Ivan, who always paid them him-
self, remained at his desk until the last one came. On
this occasion Evila was the last. Ivan sat at a table, on
which was placed the sum to be paid, which was regu-
lated by the account of the work done, which was regis-
tered in the day-book.

When the girl, who was dressed as when we first saw

THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS 19

her, in her blue bodice and red skirt, presented herself,
Ivan said to her kindly—

“ My child, I have determined to increase your wages ;
from this day you shall have double pay.”

The girl opened her large eyes, and stared in surprise.
“Why so?” she asked.

“ Because I am told that you have a crippled brother,
whom you have to keep out of your small earnings. You
cannot have enough to clothe and feed both him and
yourself. I have also heard that you are a well-con-
ducted, honest girl, and therefore it gives me pleasure
to reward you by giving you double pay.”

“T cannot take it.”

/ “Why not?”

* Because I know what the others would say. They
would joke and tease me about your being my lover, and
I should get so tormented that I could not stay in the
place.”

Ivan was so confounded by this naive explanation,
given without the slightest confusion, that he could
make no answer. He counted out the usual week’s
wages, which she stowed away in the bosom of her
bodice, wished him good morning, and went her way.

He remained, his thoughts in a maze. In all his ex-
perience—and he had a good deal, for his time had not
been always spent in Bondavara, and out in the world
he had known many women—he had known no woman
like this.

She is afraid they will say I am her lover; she is
afraid they will tease her so much on that account that
she may have to leave the place! Has she, then, no
idea that once I, the master, loved a girl here, she would
not push the wheelbarrow any more? Does she even
know what a lover is? She knows well that she must

20 BLACK DIAMONDS

guard herself against one. Poor child! How earnest
she was, and yet she laughed, and she did not know why
she laughed, nor yet why she was grave. A savage in
the guise of an angel!

He got up, locked his desk, and turned to leave his
office ; then again remained, thinking.

She is unlike every other woman. I doubt if she
knows how beautiful she is, or what is the worth of
beauty. She is Eve, a perfect copy of Eve—the Eve of
Scripture, and the Eve of Milton. She is Eve, in not
knowing wherefore she should blush over her own
nakedness — the type of the beautiful in its primitive
state, unwashed, savage, with hair unconfined, who wan-
ders through the garden, fearing nothing, and even play-
ing with a serpent. With men she is a woman, by her-
self she is a child, and yet she displays a motherly care
for her little brother. Her figure is a model for a
sculptor, her countenance is full of mind, her eyes be-
witching, her voice melodious; and yet her hands are
hard with the barrow-poles, her mind is troubled with
sordid cares for her daily bread, her face is covered with
coal-smut, and she has learned her songs in the street.

“The worse for her!” and, after a pause, Ivan added
with a sigh, “ and the worse for another besides her.”

In his mind a total revolution had taken place. The
intellectual spirits had for the nonce deserted him, and
in their place others had come of a very different order
—those demons which the blessed Antony had fought
with such good effect in the desert.

When poor Ivan tried to banish these tempters by
burying himself in his books and his scientific instru-
ments the form of Evila came between him and the ex-
periment he was busy on, just as Marguerite appeared
to Doctor Faust in his laboratory ; her voice sounded in

THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS 2I

his ear, her eyes glowed in the coals, and when he tried
to write he found himself drawing a maiden in a blue
bodice and short red skirt. It was the same with every-
thing he undertook. Some mocking demon seemed bent
on tormenting him.

Abandoning his experiments, this unfortunate man
took to reading a volume of light literature. What did
he open on? The loves of great and nobly-born men
for lowly-born and inferior women. Thus Lord Douglas
fell in love with a shepherdess, and became a shepherd
for her sake; Count Pelletier took for his wife a gypsy
girl, and went about the streets turning an organ; Ber-
nadotte, the King of Sweden, sought the hand of a
young girl who watched a flock of geese for a farmer;
Archduke John married the daughter of a postmaster ;
and another Austrian duke raised an actress to the
position of grand duchess; the consort of Peter the
Great was the daughter of a villager ; a Bonaparte mar-
ried aewasherwoman who had been his mistress.

And why not? Are not beauty, sweetness, fidelity,
and true worth to be found under a woollen as well as
under a silken frock? And, on the other hand, do we
not find sinners enough in the upper circles?

Did not Zoraida kill her own children, and was she
not a born princess? Faustina took money from her
lovers, although she was the daughter of an emperor;
the Marquise Astorgas ran a hairpin through her hus-
band’s heart; Semiramis strewed a whole churchyard
with the corpses of her spouses; King Otto was poi-
soned in a grove by his queen; Joanna of Naples
treasured the ribbon with which the king, her husband,
was strangled; Jeanne Lafolle tormented her husband
to death ; the Empress Catharine betrayed her sovereign
and consort, and connived at his murder; and the

22 BLACK DIAMONDS

Borgias, Tudors, Cillis, all had wives who became no-
torious in that they wore entwined in their crowns the
girdle of Aphrodite.

And do we not find the most exalted virtue in what is
called low life? The actress Gaussin, to whom her
wealthy lover gave a check with carte blanche to write a
million thereupon, only wrote that she would always love
him ; Quintilla, another actress, bit off her tongue, lest
she should betray her lover, who was implicated in a
conspiracy ; Alice, who undertook to fight a duel for her
husband, and was killed; and many others who have
suffered silently and died for very love.

Philosophy and history both conspired against Ivan.
And then came sleep.

A dream is a magic mirror in which we see ourselves.
as we would be if our own wishes and inclinations were
all-powerful. In his dream the bald man has hair and
the blind sees. 3

Towards the end of the following week Ivan made
the discovery that he had lost the use of his understand-
ing. The more he endeavored to force his mind back
to its original groove of abstract theories, the more the
demons ranged themselves against him, One evening,
in a fit of absence of mind, he overheated one of the
retorts, so that it burst in his face, and the small glass
particles cut his nose and cheek, and he was forced to
bind up his wounds with bits of sticking-plaster. It
did not occur to him that these strips of black diachy-
lon placed obliquely across his nose did not improve his
appearance. He was, however, very angry at his own
folly—a folly which went still further, for he began to
argue with himself in this way:

“Tt would be better to marry this girl than to become
mad for her sake, Marry her? Who eyer heard the

THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS 25

like? A pit-girl! Whata mésalliance! And who cares?
Am I not alone in the world? Do I not form the whole
family? And does not this constant thought of her
come between me and my business? If this goes on I
shall be ruined; and as for the mésa/liance, is there a
soul for six miles round who understands the meaning
of the word? Not one; and if there should be one, he
would have to seek me in the coal-pit, and he would find
my face blackened with coal-dust, so that no one could
see me blush for shame.”

All the same, he never sought the girl. He waited
for the Saturday, when he knew she would come for her
weekly wages, and on that day she appeared, as usual,
the last, because she was the youngest, and stood before
him as he sat at his desk. But this time, when Ivan
had put the money into Evila’s hand, he kept the little
fingers in his firm clasp. The girl laughed—perhaps at
the plasters, which still ornamented her lover’s face.

“Listen to me, Evila. I have something to say to
you.”

Evila looked uneasy; she ceased to laugh.

“Will you have me for your lover? Nay, my child, I
mean you no harm; only one must play the lover before
one talks of marriage.”

The girl nodded, and then sek her head. “It is
not possible,” she said.

“Not possible! Why not?”

“ Because I am already engaged.”

Ivan let go his clasp of her hand. “To whom?”

“That I am not going to tell you,” said Evila, “ for if
I did, I know very well what you would do. You would
discharge him, or you would keep him back, and we can-
not be married until he is taken on as a regular pitman.,”

“You mean as a day laborer?”

24 BLACK DIAMONDS

“Ves,”’

“And you think more of this low fellow than you do
of me, your employer ?”

The girl shrugged her shoulders, held her head a little
to one side, and threw a look at Ivan which sent the
blood coursing to his head. Then she went on, quietly—

“T gave him my promise before mother died, and I
must keep my word.”

“To the devil with your father and your mother!”
cried Ivan, out of himself with baffled hope and rage.
“‘Do you imagine I care what you have promised to a
fellow like that? I ask you again, will you give him up
and come to me?”

Again Evila shook her head. “I dare not. My bride-
groom is a wild, desperate fellow; he would think noth-
ing of doing for you, and setting the pit on fire into the
bargain when bad weather was on. Good-evening!”
And so saying, she ran away quickly, and mingled with
her companions.

Ivan threw the day-book from him so violently that
the leaves flew from one corner to another. A common
creature, a wheelbarrow-girl, a half-savage, had dared to
cross his wishes and refuse his offer! And for a dirty,
miserable, underground miner—a common mole!

Ivan had a hard battle to fight with himself when he
was once more alone in the solitude of the night. The
suppressed passion of the ascetic had suddenly broken
through the dams, which moderation had set up to re-
strain its course.

Beware of the man who professes to be above human
passion, who glories in his iron will and his heart of ice ;
avoid him and the quiet, holy, studious man of soft
tongue,who turns away his eyes from women, and shuns
what others enjoy. It is upon such as these that out-

THE SLAVE OF THE BLACK DIAMONDS 25

raged human nature revenges itself ; and once the demon
within gets loose, he plays a fine game to indemnify him-
self for all the restraint he has undergone. The love of
the worldling is a small dog; that of the hermit is a lion.

With this wild beast, which he had suddenly unchained,
did Ivan, the man of science, spend the long night, now
walking up and down the narrow room, now throwing him-
self on his bed, a prey to the most horrible temptations,
his heart beating with a thousand passionate desires, his
thoughts running in as many evil directions. The oppo-
sition that had been made to its wishes by Evila had
stimulated his passion, and also roused the pride of his
nature. ‘The master of the Bondavara mine was a man
of fiery temper, kept in check by his strong command
over himself; but this command seemed now at fault.
He had no longer any power to lay this demon, which
had got possession of him, tempting him from every side.
With his powerful fist he struck himself a blow upon his
chest, near to his throbbing heart.

“Wilt thou be silent ? Whois master, thou or I? Do
thy duty, slave. I am thy lord, thy king. Thy duty con-
sists in nothing but keeping my arteries in motion, in
pumping the air into my lungs, in forcing the blood in
the right direction. When you cease your work, your ill-
ness is atrophy; but you cannot be my master, for the
sovereign ruler is my will.”

And as Ivan beat his breast, it seemed to him as if
in a magic mirror there were reflected two forms—him-
self and another Ivan, with whom he waged a deadly
combat. It appeared to him as if this other self had
robbed him of his form and features, to perpetrate in
his name the most odious sins, and as he hit out against
this horrid image of himself, it slowly vanished; and
then Ivan, falling back upon his pillow, cried out in a

26 _ BLACK DIAMONDS

loud voice, “Never return, O fiend; never defile my
sight again !” |

In another hour, pale and exhausted, Ivan was seated
quietly before his desk. It required an heroic effort on
his part to go into prosaic calculations, to add up long
columns of figures; but he forced his weary brain, his
tired fingers to the task, and the slave obeyed its master,
the body submitted to the mind.

CHAPTER III

THE MAN-EATER

Tue morning light found Ivan still seated at his table.
As daybreak and lamplight did not agree, he extinguish-
ed his lamp, threw aside his papers, and gave himself a
momentary rest.

He had conquered; he was himself again. All the
fire of passion had died out, the sinful images had van-
ished, and in his breast reigned profound peace. He
had resolved upon his course; an angel had been at his
side and inspired him.

It was Sunday morning. The engines which work the
distillery were at rest. On Sundays the enormous water-
basin, or trough, which fed the steam-pump was utilized
to remove the dirt of the week from the miners. From
six to seven the basin was free to the women, from half-
past seven to nine to the men. The keys of the great
pump-house were given over by the machine superintend-
ent on every Saturday night to Ivan, so that no curious
or peeping Tom of Coventry could hide himself’ there,
and see these Venuses bathing through a little window,
which gave upon the basin, and which was placed there
to allow the stoker to see that the water-course was not
disturbed when the pumps were at work.

It had never once entered Ivan’s brain that he could
play Tom if he were so minded. But on this Sunday
morning he took the key from its nail and put it in his

28 BLACK DIAMONDS

pocket. Don’t start; he did this, not between six and
seven, but shortly after eight o’clock. He wanted to see
the men bathing, unseen himself. And wherefore? Be-
cause he knew the customs which prevail in coal-mines,
and that when a pair are engaged, it is customary to in-
scribe the name of the girl upon the man’s naked body.
Where the miners have got this Indian and savage
method is hard to say. There is a certain tenderness in
it, and tenderness is more often found with the savage
than the civilized man. The lovers tattoo themselves
with a needle, upon the arm or shoulder, and then rub in
a corrosive acid, either red or blue. Such a testimony
is ineffaceable. Sometimes some poetic temperament
adds two hearts transfixed by an arrow, or a couple of
doves, or it may be the signs of the miner—the mallet and
the pick. It occasionally happens that the relations
alter, and the lover would gladly remove the name of the
fickle one from his album. This can be done by placing
a blister over the name, and then the writing vanishes,
together with the skin ; a new skin grows, and upon this
a new name can be written. It is a real palimpsest.
Many are not so discreet. They punctuate a fresh name
under the old one, and let the register increase, until
sometimes there is not a vacant place.

It did not give Ivan much trouble to find the man
he sought. As soon as the water removed the black
soot from the bodies of the bathers, he saw on the
shoulder of one of them the name of Evila, the letters
in blue, two hearts in red. His rival was an intelligent,
most industrious laborer; he was called Peter Saffran,
and his comrades had added the nickname—the man-
eater. To this misnomer Peter had never taken any
umbrage. He was a particularly quiet man, and when
they teased him he took no notice. He never com-

<a

THE MAN-EATER 29

plained of anything, and never entered either the
church or the tavern. Towards children he had a par-
ticular antipathy. If one came near him he drove it
away, ground his teeth together, and threw anything he
had in his hand at it. This peculiarity was so well
known that the mothers always cautioned the little ones
against the man-eater. For the rest, he was on good
terms with every one.

Ivan, having found what he wanted, left the pump-
house and returned home, placing himself before the
door, so that he could see the people as they went by
presently in groups towards the neighboring village to
the church. He noticed that Evila was among them.
He examined her critically and in cold blood, and he
came to quite a scientific conclusion as to the peculiar
character of her beauty, which showed a mixture of
races. The small hands and feet, the slender form, the
narrow forehead, the finely cut nose, the silky black
hair—all spoke the Indian or Hindoo type; but the
short upper lip and the long, serpent-like eyebrows
were derivable from some Slav ancestor. The starry,
seductive eyes were decidedly Eastern, the chin and the
coloring recalled the Malay race, and the quick, sud-
den rising of the red blood to the velvet cheek the
Caucasian— for this people blush constantly, owing
to the cellular texture being fine almost to transpar-
ency.

Ivan pondered on all this as Evila passed him; he
wondered also why her lover was not with her, for this
was an established custom in Bondavara, Peter, how-
ever, evidently did not mind these rules of courtship ;
he was lounging on one of the benches outside the gates
of the ventilation-oven, close to the pitmouth, his head
in the air, his chin in his hand.

30 BLACK DIAMONDS

Ivan went to him. ‘“Good-morning, Peter. What are
you doing there, my man ?”

“T am listening to the wind that is coming from be-
low.”

“Why don’t you go to church ?”

“Because I never pray at all.”

“ And why not ?”

“TI do nobody any harm. I neither rob nor murder,
and if there is a God, He knows better than I do what
is good for me.”

“You are quite wrong there, Peter. In these matters
there is an immense difference between educated peo-
ple and what are called the children of Nature. I have
my science and thought to fall back on—my intellect
is my guide, and preserves me from temptation; but
with you, and men like you, it is otherwise. Those who
have no other knowledge but what concerns their daily
labor have need of faith, of hope, of consolation, and
of forgiveness.” As he spoke, Ivan seated himself be-
side the other and laid his hand upon his shoulder.
“* Something is on your mind, Peter?”

Peter nodded. ‘There is something.”

“Does it weigh on your soul ?”

“On my soul, on my body—everywhere !”

“Ts it a secret, Peter?”

“No, it is not. Ifyou care to hear it, I will tell it you.”

“ A murder ?”

“Worse than that.”

“Don’t you think you had better not tell it to me?
It may place you in danger.”

“There is no danger for me. If it were published
on the Market Cross, the law could not touch me; be-
sides, most people know it. You would hear it from
some one else if not from me.” :

THE MAN-EATER 31

“Then tell me.”

“Tt is a short story. When I was only a lad, not quite
twenty, I went to sea to seek my fortune. I bound my-
self as stoker on board a Trieste steamboat. We sailed
with a cargo of meal to the Brazils. Our voyage there
was prosperous. On our return we took black cof-
fee and wool. On this side of the equator we met a
tornado, which broke our engine, smashed our main-
mast, and drove the vessel upon a sandbank, where she
foundered. Some of the passengers took to the boat;
they went only a short way when she upset, and they
were all drowned. The rest made a raft from the planks
of the sunken ship, and trusted to this frail thing on the
open sea. I was one of them. We were in all thirty-
nine, including the captain, the steersman, and a mer-
chant from Rio de Janeiro, with his wife and a three-
year-old child. We had no other woman or child,
for the rest had perished in the open boat. We thought
them unfortunate, but now I think they were happy.
Better, far better, to have died then. Out of our thirty-
nine, soon only nine remained. Oh, how I wish I had
been among the dead! For eight days we floated upon
the water, the sport of the waves; now buffeted here
and there, again in a calm, immovable, nailed as it
were to the ocean, without one drop of water to quench
our thirst or one morsel of food. Ten of us had died
of hunger. For two days we had never eaten, and the
ninth day came, and no hope of succor. The sun was
burning us up, and the water reflected the heat, so that
we lay between two fires. Oh, the horror of that awful
time! That evening we took the resolve that one of
us should be a victim for the others—that is, that we
should draw lots which should be eaten by the others.
We threw our names into a hat, and we made the

32 BLACK DIAMONDS

innocent child draw for us. That child drew its own
name.

“T cannot tell you, sir, the rest of the ghastly busi-
ness. Often I dream the whole thing over again, and I
always awake at the moment when the miserable
mother cursed all those who partook of that horrible
meal, invoking heaven that we might never again have
peace. At the recollection of her words I spring out
of my bed, I run into the woods and wait, to see if I
shall be changed into a wolf. It would serve me
right.

“Of the partakers of the cursed meal I am the only
survivor. The thought haunts me; it burns into my
very soul. Besides my own blood, the blood of another
human being circulates in my veins. Fearful thoughts
pursue me. ‘The piece of human flesh that I have eaten
is in me still; it has taken away all wish for any other
food. I understand the delight of the cannibals. I
never see a rosy-faced child without thinking what a
delicious morsel his little rounded arm would be. When
I behold a sickly, pale baby, the idea at once occurs to
me—Why let it live? Would it not be better—”

He shuddered, and stood up. He hid his hands in
his blouse, and after a pause, went on—

“Tell me now, sir, is there any relief for what I suffer?
Is there a physician who can cure me, or a priest who
will absolve me? I have told my story to both priest
and doctor, and one has enjoined me to fast and to
chastise myself, the other to drink no brandy and to
have myself bled. Neither of them is worth a straw,
and such counsel only makes the matter worse.”

“T will advise you,” said Ivan. ‘ Marry.”

Saffran looked with some surprise at his employer,
and after a minute a feeble smile stole over his face.

THE MAN-EATER 33

“T have thought of that. Perhaps if I had children
of my own this horror of them would disappear.”

“Then why don’t you marry?”

“ Because I am such a poor devil. If two beggars
come together, then you have a couple of paupers in-
stead of one. One must first have something to live
on.”

“That is true; but you are an industrious fellow. I
have long wanted to have you as a first-class pitman,
but I waited to advance you until you got married. It
is my rule to give all the best places to married men.
I have found by experience that the unmarried ones,
when they get higher pay, go straight tothe bad. There
is more dependence to be placed in a married man; he
won’t leave his place for a mere nothing. Therefore,
consider the matter. After the first Saturday on which
you can tell me that you have been called in church
with your intended, you will receive the pay of a pitman,
and I shall give you a dwelling-house for yourself.”

Peter’s face was a study. He could not believe that
what he heard was real earnest. When this was made
clear to him, he was ready to fall at the feet of his bene-
factor; he almost sobbed as he stammered forth some
words of thanks.

“ Now,” cried Ivan, with friendly encouragement, “ to-
day is a Sunday. Does nothing occur to you, my
friend ?”

The man sprang to his feet.

“Service has not yet begun,” went on Ivan; “the
congregation have not all arrived at the church yet. I
think there would be time for you to catch up your bride
and go with her to the clergyman.”

Peter said no word to this proposal, but he began to
run; his legs were long, and he was soon out of sight.

3

34 BLACK DIAMONDS

He was bareheaded; he had forgotten his hat upon the
seat. Ivan saw it, and took it into his house to keep,
but he stood looking after the fleet lover until he had
disappeared behind the stone wall at the turning. Then
he went in, with Saffran’s hat in his hand.

“How happy he is!” he thought, and sighed.

When he was in his room he wrote in his day-book
that from the following day, Monday, he had engaged
Peter Saffran as a first-class pitman with the usual wages,
and that in his place another day-laborer should be
taken on. When he had closed the book, his heart
whispered—

“‘ My cruel master, art thou content ?”

But Ivan had his misgivings, and answered his heart
thus—

“T don’t believe in you, since I have seen how easy it
was for you to slip on the ice. I must for the future
watch closely. I am not sure of the purity of my own
motives even now. God knows what lies under this
apparent abnegation. Perhaps you think as a young
wife— But I shall watch you Closely, traitorous heart
of mine; you shall lead me into no more pitfalls.”

Again he consulted his account-book, and found that
the increase in this year’s income allowed him to take
on an overseer at a very fair salary. He wrote out the
proper advertisement, and despatched it that very even-
ing to different papers for insertion. In this way he
would not be thrown into daily contact with his work-

people.

CHAPTER IV

A MODERN ALCHEMIST

A FORTNIGHT had passed since Ivan sent his adver-
tisement for insertion, when, one morning, and again it
was Saturday morning, Peter Saffran came and told him
that two gentlemen had just arrived, who wished to see
the mine.

“They must be foreigners,” he added, “since they
spoke French together.” Peter’s life as a sailor had
given him some knowledge of the French tongue.

“T shall be with them immediately,” returned Ivan,
who was busy pouring a green liquid through a pointed
felt hat. “Let them meanwhile get into the usual
miner’s dress.”

“That is already done ; they are all ready for you.”

“Very good. Iam going. And how are you getting
on, Peter?”

“With the wedding? Everything is in order ; to-mor-
row we shall be called in church for the third time.”

* And when shall you be betrothed ?”

“It is just now Advent, and our priest will not marry
us ; but on the first Sunday after the Three Kings we
shall have the wedding. I am not at all annoyed at the
delay, for I have to get together a little money. When
aman marries he must have all sorts of things—furni-
ture and the like; and something for the cold winter
into the bargain.”

36 BLACK DIAMONDS

“ And have you put by nothing out of your wages ?”

“Yes, sir; I had overa hundred and fifty gulden laid
by. I had spared everything on myself—food and
drink, and even the pipe—and I had got together this
sum. ‘Then what should the devil do but bring the re-
cruiting commission down here, and I had to give all
my money into the greasy palm of the examining doctor,
so that he might report me as being unfit for service
because I squinted. It’s a trick I have. I can squint
for a quarter of an hour together, although my eyes are
straight ; on this account I shall be let off by the doctor,
but my hundred and fifty gulden are gone. I shall have
to squint at the marriage ceremony, for the priest only
marries me because I am unfit for service.”

“Well, Peter, you may count upon some help from
me.”

“Thank you, sir, but I don’t like loans; that is like
eating one’s supper at dinner.”

By this time they had reached the place where the
strangers were waiting.

“ Ah,” cried Ivan, “so it is you, Felix!” and he held
out his hand cordially to the visitor.

The old acquaintance whom Ivan called Felix looked
as if he belonged to another generation. His soft com-
plexion, carefully waxed mustache, short imperial, his
fine, dark-blue eyes, and particularly the shape of his
head, and the way it was placed on his shoulders, taken
together with his elegant dress, which the rough miner’s
blouse could not quite conceal, betrayed the man of the
world. When he spoke, his voice was almost womanly ;
the tone was clear and high, like one of the Pope’s
choir.

Felix hastened at once to put his friend’s mind at
ease upon a necessary part of his visit.

A MODERN ALCHEMIST 37

“T hope you will forgive our putting up at the inn.
i was sure you would have made us welcome, but you
are a busy man, and you would not care to be at the
bother of entertaining us; besides, like all men of busi-
ness, you are, I dare say, a little in the rough, and the
inn is really very comfortable. May I introduce you to
my travelling companion, Gustav Rauné? He isa mine-
surveyor and engineer.”

Ivan was well pleased at his friend’s forethought in
the matter of hospitality; not that he would not have
made him welcome so far as lay in his power —and
there were unoccupied rooms in the house which would
have accommodated the two men—but his manner of
life would have been disturbed. He had never for one
moment thought of entertaining a guest.

“My house,” he said, frankly, “is not fitted to re-
ceive my friends, and, indeed, none come; but the inn
is also mine. I trust you will consider yourselves my
guests while you remain here.”

“We accept your offer,” returned the other; “the
more readily, since we have really come here on your
business. Yesterday I read your advertisement. You
require an overseer ?”

“IT do.” Ivan looked doubtfully at the two gentlemen.

“No, no; it is not for me,” laughed Felix. “I under-
stand nothing of the business ; but Rauné is inclined
to join you, should he find that there are capabilities
here for real work, Rauné is an old friend of mine.
He has learned his business under Erenzoter. You
know the firm of Erenzoter? He is thoroughly up in
the whole thing.” .

Rauné all this time said not a word, perhaps for the
best of reasons, that, being a Frenchman, he did not
understand the language in which the others spoke. He

38 BLACK DIAMONDS

was a small man, slight, and well-made, with penetrat-
ing eyes, a sharp-cut face, and very long mustache.

“ To this gentleman Ivan explained in fluent French
that he would be glad to show him all the properties
of the Bondavara mine before going closer into the
matter of engaging him permanently.

After these courtesies they went down into the pit.
Here the two men were soon convinced that each was
thoroughly conversant with the whole machinery and
working of a mine, Sometimes they held different
opinions upon certain systems, and in the dispute or
argument which would arise each disputant saw that the
other had nothing to learn from him,

Rauné displayed extraordinary quickness and knowl-
edge in valuing the coal stratum. Even without look-
ing at the geometrical maps he was able to decide
upon the probable profit, as also upon the probable
extent of the layer or stratum beyond the actual ground
covered by Ivan’s pit. His valuation agreed in almost
every particular with that already made by Ivan. By
mid-day the inspection was over, and they went to the
inn for dinner, having first given some time to washing
and general purification. A visit to a pit is by no means
a cleanly undertaking.

The afternoon was devoted to the inspection of the
distilling-ovens, and in the evening they went over the
foundry. When they returned from the foundry, Felix
went in with Ivan to his house, while Rauné returned to
the inn,

Ivan led his old acquaintance into his workroom,
where, in truth, a wonderful disorder prevailed, cleared
a chair, full of maps and books, for him to sit upon,
and told him to light his cigar at a chemical lamp of a
new construction, After a pause Felix began ;

A MODERN ALCHEMIST 39

* You were always of an inquiring mind, Ivan. I re-
member well how at college you distanced every one.
As for me, I was a pygmy near a giant. Now, tell me
truly, have all your science, your industry, and your
physical exertions made you a rich man?”

Ivan laughed. “This mine gives me an annual in-
come of ten thousand gulden.”

“In other words, it produces nothing, or, at least,
next to nothing. You are director, overseer, cashier,
engineer, secretary, bookkeeper, and conveyer of goods,
and you receive, roughly calculated, just what you would
have to pay these employés if you had not united all
their different offices in yourself. In other words, your
work, your talent, your studies, your zeal, your expendi-
ture of thought and strength upon this mine of yours
only bring you in the miserable return which any pro-
prietor would give to a man who filled only one of
these offices. As a fact, you don’t get a farthing
by it.”

“The mine is not to blame, neither am I; it is the
result of a small consumption, and, in consequence of
this, the production cannot be increased.”

“J will tell you in two words where the fault lies. In
the present day strength is alone to be found in co-opera-
tion. In the political world the smaller states go to the
wall; they are forced to tack themselves on to larger
ones, and so forma union. It is the same in the com-
mercial world; small tradesmen must give way to the
larger co-operative centres, and it is better for them to
understand this, and make part of a company.”

“There is no danger of our foundry closing; our iron
and our coal take a first place, and could not be crushed
out.”

“An additional reason for developing my idea — an |

40 BLACK DIAMONDS

idea which, I may as well tell you, was the factor that
brought me here. You have already guessed, I imagine,
that I am not such a good fellow as to undertake
the journey solely on Rauné’s account. He is not a
chicken, and could have introduced himself. I have a
great plan in my head. I intend to make you a wealthy
man, and, naturally, I shall feather my own nest at the
same time.”

‘“‘ How so?”

“ T do not know where I once read this short synopsis
of how different nations acquire money: ‘The Hun-
garian seeks it, the German earns it, the Frenchman
wins it, and the American makes it.’ It is a most
characteristic description. You have only to watch the ©
Hungarian, how he seeks in every hole and puddle fora
piece of gold; the German will work in the sweat of his
brow till he gets his reward, a piece of gold ; the light-
hearted Frenchman will win the last piece of gold his
victim has ; but the Yankee sits in a corner, gnaws his
finger-nails, and makes his pile. Yes, gold lies in undis-
covered millions, only waiting to be ‘made.’”

“Where does it lie?”

“In the capabilities of life, in bold undertakings, in
the concealed treasures of the earth, which require de-
velopment, and in the outlay of capital ; in new discov-
eries, in the extension of the means of communication,
in the increase of luxury, in the follies of mankind, in
the exertions made by scientists ; and especially in the
money-box where small capitalists keep their gold, which
should circulate through large channels to be of use.
The number of small capitals should be thrown into one
large, commercial mart, and by means of this credit
every gulden would bring in three times its value. This
is the art of the American ; this is how to make a pile of

A MODERN ALCHEMIST 41

gold. Itis a splendid art, an honest art, and it seems to
thrive with those who adopt it.”

When he had concluded this rather long-winded exor-
dium, Felix threw himself back in his chair with an air
as who should say, “ Are you not dazzled with the brill-
iancy of my conception? Is not Felix Kaulmann one of
the greatest financiers of the day? Surely you are con-
vinced that he is.”

So far as that went, the name had a fair reputation.
The Kaulmanns had always been in finance, and were
well-known bankers. Of late, since Felix had inherited
the business from his father, the firm were more before
the public. Ivan knew his old schoolfellow well ; he
looked at him now quietly.

“ How do you propose to make a pile out of my pit?”

“T have a big scheme in my head.”

“ But the whole pit is anything but big.”

“So it appears to you, because you don’t view it from
my standpoint. You have sought for diamonds in the
mine, but it has never occurred to you that there may be
iron ore. This pit produces, you tell me, a profit of ten
thousand gulden; that is the interest of two hundred
thousand florins. I can get you a company who will buy
the whole place out and out for two hundred thousand
florins.”

“ But I would not part with my pit at any price. I am
here in my element, like the mud-worm in the mud.”

“You need not leave it—certainly not-; on the con-
trary, if you wished to go, I would keep you chained, if
necessary. The company will start with a recognized
capital of four millions ; we will form a large business,
which on one side will ruin Prussian coal, on the other
side will drive the English iron out of market. You
shall be the principal director of the business, with a

42 BLACK DIAMONDS

yearly salary of ten thousand florins, and two shares in
the business ; besides which you will be allowed to take,
if you wish it, a portion of the purchase-money in bonds
at par, and these will bear interest at twenty per cent.
You will enjoy an income of thirty thousand florins, in-
stead of your beggarly ten thousand florins, which you
now have, and, into the bargain, hardly any work.”

Ivan listened to this proposal without interrupting the
speaker. When Felix had finished, he said, in a calm
voice—

“My dear Felix, if I were to propose to a company
ready provided with four millions the purchase of a busi-
ness which up to the present had only produced ten
thousand guldens profit, and which profit could never in
the future realize more than eight hundred thousand
gulden, do you not think I would be a despicable vil-
lain? If, on the other hand, I placed my own mon-
ey in such a company, I should be equally a perfect
fool.”

At this clear definition of his recent proposal Felix
burst into a peal of laughter. Then, passing his pliant
little walking-stick behind his back, he placed both his
hands on the ends, and said with an air of profound
wisdom— ;

“You have not heard all my plan. It has not alto-
gether to do with your colony. You know well that your
pit is only a small portion of the monster coal stratum
of the Bonda Valley, which stretches far away—as far,
indeed, as Muld Valley. I intend to buy this entire re-
gion ; it can be had now for a mere song, and when
properly worked it will be worth millions—millions
earned by honest means. No stealing or taking unfair
advantage of any one. We only raise a treasure which
lies at our feet, so to speak, which is there ready for us,

A MODERN ALCHEMIST 43

or for any one. It needs only sufficient strength on the
part of those who lift it.”

“ That is quite another thing. NowI can understand
your scheme. I will also not contradict your assertion
that it is lawful and generous; but it is just because it
is so that it is full of holes. It is quite true that the
treasure which lies concealed in the Bonda Valley is im-
mense— it is possible that it represents millions ; but this
treasure cannot be discovered, for the Bondavara prop-
erty is not for sale.”

“ Really !”

“T will tell you why; because at this moment it be-
longs to Prince Bondavary, who is one of the richest
men in this country.”

“T should imagine that no one knows better than I
do how rich he is.”

“In the next place, this man is one of the proudest of
our aristocrats, to whom I, for one, would not venture to
make the proposal to turn his old family property—the
cradle, we might say, of his race—into a mine to be
worked by a company.”

“Oh, so far as that goes, we have seen many an an-
cient race glad to do a bit of commercial dirt. The
King of Italy is a crowned king ; and, nevertheless, he has
sold Savoy, the place from which his family took their
name and the right to have a cross on their shield.”

“Well, suppose the old prince were inclined to sell
this property, he could not do so as long as his sister,
the Countess Bondavary, is alive. Her father left the
castle and the property round about to his daughter,
who is now nearly fifty-eight, and may live yet another
thirty years. She has grown up in that castle; she has,
to my knowledge, never left it, not even for one day;
she hates the world, and no human power would induce

44 BLACK DIAMONDS

her to part with her beloved Bondavara to a coal com-
pany, not if the last remaining stratum were to be found
under the castle, and without this the world should
perish from want of fuel.”

Felix laughed, then answered with an air of ineffable
conceit—

“‘T have conquered greater difficulties than an old
maid’s fad, and for the matter of that, women’s hearts
are not locked with a Bramah key.”

“Well, let us suppose,” said Ivan, good-humoredly,
“that you have overcome the prejudices of the prince
and his sister, and that you have actually started your
monster company. Then begin all the technical diffi-
culties ; for what is the first necessary to an undertaking
of the kind ?”

“ A sufficient supply of money.”

“By no means. A sufficient supply of workmen.”

“Wherever money is plentiful, human beings are
pretty sure to flock.”

“Between men and men there is a wonderful differ-
ence. This is an article in which one is likely to be
easily deceived. With us there is a want of first-class
workmen.”

“We would get men from France and Belgium.”

“But the men who would come from France and Bel-
gium would not work for the wages we give our men.
They would ask double. In such a commercial under-
taking, the first false step would be to raise the wages
to more than the old system, for my conviction is that
every industrial enterprise to be safe must work upon
its own internal capabilities. We should measure our
strength according to the circumstances in which we
find ourselves, and we should educate our own work-
men; draw them to us by learning together. The

A MODERN ALCHEMIST 45

trade should extend slowly, but surely, by small ex-
periments.”

“You are too cautious. I can convince you to the
contrary. For instance, a steam-engine of a hundred-
horse power needs just the same labor to work it as one
of four-horse power; and a small business requires as
many account-books as a large one, and small undertak-
ings in like manner, even if they are in themselves
lucrative, will eventually be swamped by the larger ones
on account of the want of the proper activity, without
which all trade dies of itself.”

“ Nevertheless, there is less danger of sudden collapse
in a small business,” returned Ivan, reflectively. “I like
a certainty.”

“And what certainty have you? Suppose, just for
the sake of argument, that one bright morning the Aus-
trian minister of trade listens to the petition of the
English iron masters, and that the free importation of
raw iron is allowed. Your neighbor over there will at
once shut his foundry, and you may go and sell your
coal to the smithy, eh, Ivan?”

“T have gone into all that. Our raw iron can com-
pete with the English, and there would be—”

“Your ideas are rococo; they belong to the last cen-
tury. If America had worked on these lines she would
not have overshadowed Europe.”

“That may be. What I maintain is that foreign
workmen are a badinvestment. Those who come to us
are, for the most part, men who cannot get on in their
own country; restless fellows, ever wanting change;
members of secret societies, socialists, and atheists ; and
so soon as they get among our men they begin dissem-
inating their vicious doctrines, and the next thing is a
strike for higher wages.”

46 BLACK DIAMONDS

“‘ Have you ever had a strike here ?”

“ Never!”

“How do you prevent it ?”

“That is my secret, which cannot be told in a few
words. I am, however, convinced of one thing: the
first obstacle a company would have to contend against
would be the price of labor, and the second difficulty
would be to secure the services of a really capable over-
seer; one who would understand the /echnigue of the
business.”

“We could easily get one from abroad.”

“That might be; but I, as a private individual, could
get one easily if I had sufficient money to pay him,
for I could choose the best for my purpose, and could
give him what I chose, as far as his merits deserved.”

Felix laughed at Ivan’s description. ‘That is it
exactly, as if you read it out of a book; and just on this
account I intend to give the complete direction of the
business to a man who understands it to a T, and this
man is you.”

“That is a complete mistake. I do understand the
working of my own small business, but I am quite ig-
norant of the ways of a great concern. Like many
another small man, I should be a child in the hands of
big speculators, and I should probably wreck the whole
concern.”

“You are too modest. On the contrary, I think you
would outwit the big speculators.”

“Well, suppose all went according to your wishes, or,
rather, as it presents itself to your imagination. The
great business is in full swing, delivers goods at moder-
ate prices, and in sufficient quantity. Now comes the
real objection—the topographical impediment. The
Bonda coal-mine is twenty miles from the nearest rail-

A MODERN ALCHEMIST 47

way, and twenty-five miles from the nearest river. On
your way here you must have noticed the state of the
roads. During four months of the year we can send no
freight to a distance, and at any time the cost of trans-
porting our coal and iron adds so much to the price that
it is impossible for us to compete with either Prussia or
England.”

“T know all that,” said Felix, stroking his beard with
the coral head of his stick; “but a light railway would
soon settle all this. We could run it from Bonda Valley
to the principal emporium.” He spoke as if running
light railways were a mere trifle.

“A railway through the Bonda Valley!” returned
Ivan, in a tone of surprise. ‘“ And do you really believe
that with a capital of four millions you could construct
a railway twenty miles long ?”

“Certainly not. That would be quite a separate
affair.”

“ And do you think you would find people ready to
advance money for such an uncertain return as mere
luggage traffic would insure to the shareholders in such
a railway ?”

Felix moved his stick from his beard to his mouth,
and began to suck the top.

“ And why not,” he said, at last, “when the state
would guarantee a certain rate of interest on the ad-
vance ?”

Ivan opened his eyes still wider, and placed upon
each word an emphasis.

“The state will give to this railway a guarantee of
interest! You will excuse me, Kaulmann—that is not
possible.”

Felix answered, after some consideration, “There
are certain keys by which the bureaus of even ministers

48 BLACK DIAMONDS .

of state can be opened.” After this oracular speech he
was silent, pressing the top of his stick upon his lips, as
if to restrain his words.

Ivan drew out the drawer of his writing-desk and
took therefrom a piece of black bread.

“Do you see this? People who eat such coarse stuff
don’t dance attendance upon ministers.”

Felix threw his head back with a scornful laugh and
twisted his stick impatiently between his fingers.

** Allons, n’en parlons plus,” he said. “You have
plenty of time to make up your mind, for what I have
once resolved to do, that I do. I am quite ready to
bet with you that I shall secure the Bonda Valley prop-
erty from under the nose of the old prince and the
faddy countess, and that the largest factory in the king-
dom shall be established ere, and the trade carried on
with the outside world. This will all come to pass, as”
sure as my name is Felix Kaulmann.”

“Well, I wish you every luck in your undertaking,
but for my part I will have none of it.”

The arrival of Rauné interrupted the conversation.
The Frenchman explained that he had considered
Ivan’s offer, and was ready to agree to his conditions
and to enter on its office at once. Thereupon Ivan
gave him his hand asa sign that the agreement was
concluded. Then he handed him the books and the
strong-box, the former with the complete list of the
pitmen, the laborers, the girls, and boys engaged in
the mine; the latter with the money which was paid to
them for the week’s work, and he asked the new overseer
to appoint a room in the inn, where he was going to
live, as the place where the miners should come to be
paid.

As it happened, this was a Saturday, and therefore

A MODERN ALCHEMIST 49

on this evening the overseer should enter on his new
duties.

The inn was exactly opposite to Ivan’s house. Groups
of pitmen collected on the vacant space between the
two houses. Ivan went to the window to see in what
order the payments would be made by the new direct-
or. Felix also amused himself by means of his pocket-
glass, staring at all the women.

“ Ah!” he exclaimed, suddenly, “ that little Cinderella
over there in the red skirt wouldn’t be bad for the
model of a bronze statuette. I should like her to teach
me how to say ‘I love you’ in the Slav language.”

“Take care,” laughed Ivan; “she is betrothed, and
her lover is called a man-eater.”

Just then Peter Saffran came out of the tavern. He
had received Evila’s money with his own, and offered it
to her. She, however, refused to take it, and the pair
went off together in good-humor with one another.
The young girl's hand was upon Peter’s arm, and as she
passed the window they heard her singing.

“ Saperlot ! What a voice!” exclaimed the banker.
“Why, she beats Thérése. If she were in Paris—”

He didn’t finish his sentence. Ivan lit a cigar, and
sat smoking silently.

CHAPTER V

° THE DOCTOR

THE next day was Sunday. Ivan took Felix and
Rauné through the workmen’s colony-to show them the
dwelling-houses, which were clustered together like a
village. This village had been made by Ivan’s father.
The district had been formerly occupied by the very
poorest, who eat nothing but potatoes; but now the
miners who lived here were well-fed and well-lodged.
Each pitman had his own cottage and fruit-garden.

When the three men came to the house in which
Evila lived they stood still and looked into the little
yard beyond. They felt obliged to do so, first, because
the door stood open, and secondly, because in the yard a
scene was going on of which they were unseen spectators,

Peter Saffran was beating Evila. The lover held his
betrothed by her long black hair, which fell over her
shoulders nearly to the ground. He had the rich
masses gathered up in his left hand and wound round
his wrist, while in his right hand he had a thick plaited
cord with which he struck the poor girl over the shoul-
ders, neck, and back. As he did so, his eyes expanded
until nearly all the white was visible, his eyebrows al-
most touched one another, his countenance grew white
with rage, and through his open lips his white teeth
looked like those of an infuriated tiger. At each blow
of the rope he growled out—

THE DOCTOR 51

“So you will have your own way, will you? You
will defy me, will you?”

The girl made no protest against her lover’s violence.
She did not cry, neither did she beg him to spare her.
She pressed her apron to her lips, and looked at her
cruel persecutor with eyes full of the most divine com-
passion.

“What a beast!’ cried Felix. “And he is her
lover !”

“Just so,” replied Ivan, indifferently.

“ But you should interfere ; you should not allow that
pretty child to be ill-used by the savage.”

Ivan shrugged his shoulders. ‘“ He has the right;
she is his betrothed, and if I were to interfere he would
beat her more. Besides, don’t you see he has been at
the brandy flask? There would be no use in reasoning
with him.”

“Well, I shall reason with him to some purpose,” re-
turned Felix. “Iam not going to stand by and see
that pretty creature beaten.”

“You will do no good, I warn you. The underground
laborer has no respect for men in black coats.”

“We shall soon see as to that. Do me the favor to
call out ‘doctor’ as soon as you see me take the fellow
by his arm.”

As he spoke, the elegantly attired Felix rushed across
the narrow passage which led to the yard, and con-
fronted the infuriated savage.

“You brute!” he cried. “Let go that girl Why
do you beat her?”

Saffran answered phlegmatically, “ What is that to
you? She is my betrothed.” He smelled fearfully of
brandy.

“Ah, so you are thinking of marrying, are you?” re-

52 BLACK DIAMONDS

turned Felix, looking at the Hercules, to whose shoulder
he hardly reached. ‘And how is it that you are not
on military service, my friend ?”

The cord slipped from Peter’s hand. “I could not
pass,” he said, in a low voice. “I have it in black and
white. I am not fit.”

“Could not pass—not fit—when you can use your
arms so well? Who was the upright doctor that gave.
you that certificate in black and white? Such mus-
cles—” He touched with the tips of his gray gloves the
starting muscles on the brawny arm.

“ Doctor!” called out Ivan.

When Peter heard this exclamation, and felt the pres-
sure of Felix’s fingers, he let go his hold of Evila’s hair.
She was free.

“You just wait till to-morrow, young man,” continued
Felix, shaking his cane before Peter’s nose—‘“ till to-
morrow, and you shall have a second examination. I
shall be curious to find out what is the secret impedi-
ment which makes you unfit to serve your country. That
is my business here.”

Peter began suddenly to squint.

Felix burst out laughing. “Two can play that game,
young man,” and he, too, fell to squinting. “I shall pay
you a visit to-morrow.”

At this Peter took to his heels, and making one rush
of it, was soon over the wall of the yard, and never
ceased running until he reached the wood.

Ivan was astonished at the result of Felix’s inter-
ference. He, who was twice as strong mentally and
physically as this effeminate town-bred man, would have
been routed signally, and behold, the weak one in gray
gloves had chased the savage from the field, and was
master of the situation! He felt vexed, yet he wished

THE DOCTOR 53

to conceal his vexation. He saw Felix calmly convers-
ing with Evila, whose deliverer he had been. Ivan was
not going to stand open-mouthed looking at the hero.

“Let us go on,” he said to Rauné. “ Herr Kaulmann
can follow us if he wishes.”

Herr Kaulmann was not inclined to continue his walk.
A full hour afterwards, when they were returning, he met
them. He said he had been looking everywhere for
them without effect. He had done a good morning’s
work in their absence. Finding himself alone in the
yard with the girl, he had spoken to her in a sympa-
thizing tone.

“* My poor child, what did you do to that brute, that he
should ill-use you so cruelly ?”

The girl dried her eyes with the corner of her apron
and made an effort to smile. It was a piteous attempt,
tragic in its effort to hide her sufferings.

“Oh, sir, the whole thing was only a joke. He only
pretended to strike me.”

“A nice joke! Look at the welts his blows have
made.”

He took from his pocket a little case, which held his
pocket-comb, a dandified affair with a small looking-
glass, which he held before her eyes.

Evila reddened over face and neck when she saw the
disfiguring marks of her lover’s affection. She spoke
with some anger in her voice—

“Sir, you have been very kind, and I will tell you all
about it. I have a little brother who is a cripple. As
soon as father died mother married again. Her hus-
band was a drunkard, and when he was tipsy he would
beat us and tear my hair. Once he threw my brother,
who was only three years old, down a height, and since
then he has been crippled. His bones are bent and

54 BLACK DIAMONDS

weak, and he has to go on crutches; his breath, too, is
affected ; he can hardly breathe from asthma, and this
was stepfather’s doing. But that did not soften him; on
the contrary, he persecuted the poor baby, and it was ten
times worse after mother died. How many blows I have
had to bear, and glad I was to get them if I could only
spare the child! At last stepfather fell from the shaft;
he was drunk, and he broke his neck. A good thing it
was, too; and since then we have lived alone, and what
I earn does for us both. But now I am going to marry
Peter, and Peter hates my poor crippled brother. He
says he must go out and beg; that an object like him on
crutches could stand at the church-door on Sundays, and
in the market on week-days, and get pence enough to
support himself. Oh, it is shameful of him! And to-
day we had a quarrel about it. He came to take me to
church, where we were to be called for the third time.
I was nearly ready, but I said I should first give my little
brother some warm milk, and I went to fetch it. The
boy was sitting on the doorstep waiting for it.

“*Warm milk!’ cried Peter, in a rage. ‘I will give
him what will make him fat!’ and then he struck the
child and tore at his ear as if he would tear it from his
head. ‘The child has a peculiarity—strange for a child
—he never cries, although you might beat him to death.
He opens his eyes and his mouth, but says nothing, and
gives out no sound. I implored Peter to let the poor
thing alone, for I loved him. This set him in a horrible
rage.

ir? ‘Then let the dwarf go packing! he screamed.

‘Give him a beggar’s wallet, and let him beg from door
to door; there never was a more unsightly cripple than
he is, so let him bring home something for his keep, the
scarecrow !’ ”

THE DOCTOR 88

The tears ran down the girl’s face as she told this.

“ How can he help being so ugly and deformed ?” she
went on. “It was not God who made him so, it was
stepfather; and so I told Peter, and that I would rather
he would beat me than that he should touch the child.

“* And I will beat you,’ he said, ‘if you say another
word’; and then he seized hold of the child and kicked
him. ‘Get out of my sight, you little monster of ugli-
ness!’ he said. ‘Go to the church-door and beg, or I will
eat you.’ And he made such a horrible face that my
poor little brother shrieked with fright. I could not
stand seeing him tortured in this way. I took him from
him, and would have covered him up in my arms, but he
ran and hid himself in the chimney. I was very angry.

“*Tf you torment him like this,’ I said, ‘I shall break
with you.’

“Then he seized me by my hair and fell to beating
me, as you saw. Now he will do it every day.”

“No, no,” returned Felix. ‘The fellow will have to
serve his term; a muscular giant like him cannot shirk
military duty. If every one did that, who the deuce
would defend the country and the emperor? It cannot
be winked at—”

“Then are you really a doctor?” said Evila, doubting.

“Of course I am, when I say I am.”

A faint reflection of pleasure crossed the girl’s face.

“Then perhaps you can tell me if my little brother
can ever be cured ?” she said, eagerly.

“T can tell you. Bring me the child.”

Evila went into the kitchen, and after some trouble
persuaded the cripple to come out of his shelter in the
chimney. This poor victim of man’s cruelty was a mis-
erable object. He looked as if nature had exhausted
the stuff of which he was made; not one of his limbs

56 BLACK DIAMONDS

fitted the other, and his will seemed to have no power
over his body.

Evila took the sick boy upon her knee, and kissing
his cheek, withered like a bit of dried parchment, told
him not to be afraid, for that the stranger was a kind
gentleman.

Felix examined the limbs of the cripple with all the
attention of an experienced surgeon, and then with a
professional air said—

“The injury can still be cured ; it requires only time
and care. ‘There is in Vienna an orthopedic institution
expressly for such cases ; cripples are there treated, and
grow up strong, healthy boys.”

“Ah!” cried the girl, taking hold of Felix’s hand.
“Would they take Janoska there? But it would cost
money, which I haven't got. I might get employment
in this institution where cripples are made straight
again. I would serve them well if they would cure my
little brother.”

“I don’t see any reason why he shouldn’t be ad-
mitted,” returned Felix, gravely, “especially on my rec-
ommendation. I have great influence, and a word from
me—”’

“You will say it, won’t you, and God will forever
bless you?” cried the girl, throwing herself on her knees
and covering the hands and feet of the pretended doctor
with kisses. “I will serve them; I will work for them
day and night. They need not keep a dog; I will be
their dog, and guard the house for them, if they will
make Janoska straight, so that he need not beg at the
church-door. Is it far to Vienna?”

Felix laughed. “You don’t think you could carry the
boy to Vienna, do you? I will manage the journey for
you. When I have once promised, I keep my word. I

THE DOCTOR | 57

have my carriage here; I will, if you like, take you both
to Vienna.”

“Oh, I will sit by the coachman, with Janoska on my
lap!”

“Very well, my child,” returned Felix, with the air
ofapatron. “Iam glad to help you; therefore, if you
have resolved to take your brother to Vienna to have
him cured, I shall give you the opportunity. Be ready
to-morrow morning when you hear the post-horn sound.
That rough fellow who beat you just now will be taken
by the pioneers corps, who recruit next week, and he will
have to serve his four years. Now, here is some money
for you, that you may buy some warm clothing for the
boy, for the nights are cold, and I travel day and night.”

The sum of money he placed in the girl’s hand took
away her breath, and left her no voice to thank him.
Two bank-notes, ten pounds each—a fortune to a poor
girl. The gentleman was a great nobleman ; he was a
prince. He was, however, alfeady on his way before
she could speak a word, and it would not do to run
through the street after him.

Evila then gave way to her joy like a child, as she
was. She laughed, ran about the room carrying the
boy, set him on a seat, knelt before him, kissed and
hugged in her arms his emaciated body.

“We are going away, Janoska, my heart’s darling, in
a coach to Vienna. Ho, ho, little horse, ho! Ina
coach with four gee-gees all hung with little bells!) And
Janoska will sit in my lap. Janoska will have good
medicine and good food, and his feet and his hands,
his back and his chest will get straight. He will be a
big fellow, like other boys. Then we will come home,
not in a coach, but on our feet. We go in a coach, and
we come back on two feet without a crutch !”

58 BLACK DIAMONDS

Then the poor little cripple began to laugh like her.
Evila ran off to the store, and bought for the child a
warm winter jacket, a cap, and boots; still, she could
not, even with these stupendous purchases, spend half
of the money. What she had left she determined to re-
turn to the gentleman.

Now it was full time to go to church. Her friends
wondered to see her come in alone. They asked her
where was Peter? Evila answered she had not seen
him that day. It went against her conscience to tell a
lie before mass, but then, when one is placed in a situ-
ation that one must lie, what can be done? A woman
or a girl who has been beaten by her betrothed or her
husband must deny it. God pardons the lie, and society
demands it.

Peter Saffran was nowhere to be seen in the church.
Evila felt terribly ashamed when the clergyman from the
pulpit gave out for the third time the banns of her mar-
riage. And there would be no marriage! Tears came
into her eyes and sorrow filled her heart at the thought
that she was leaving her home, her bridegroom, her
friends, all the places she knew, the things she was ac-
customed to, and was going out into the world alone.
These thoughts preyed upon her all day, until she was
obliged to go out and look for Peter Saffran. She sus-
pected where she would find him.

In the depths of the woods at the bottom of a moun-
tain ravine lay a cottage, or hut, where, at the time of
the recruiting, the men and boys who wantéd to avoid
the conscription would hide themselves for weeks, until
the officers would have gone on to another place. Not
one betrayed their hiding-place; and here, no doubt,
Peter lay concealed. Evila went blindly through the

thicket. The night was dark, the wood still darker.

THE DOCTOR 59

From the mountain came the growling of the hungry
wolves. The girl trembled with fear, but went her way,
nevertheless, resolved to find her betrothed, although
she was sure he would again beat her. On the path she
picked up a stick, and as she went along she beat the
bushes, crying, “Go away, wolf!’ But her heart beat
wildly when, with a rustling sound, some beast flew
away through the brushwood. She was getting deeper
into the wood, and every moment it was growing darker ;
still she kept on her way.

At last through the darkness she saw the glimmer of
a light in a window. This was the hut. Her breath
came shorter as she drew near to the house, from whence
came the sound of bagpipes mixed with shouts. They
were very merry inside. She stole softly to the lighted
window, and peeped in. They were dancing. Evila
knew the girls who were there ; they were none of her
companions; she and her friends crossed the street
when they met these. The piper sat upon the pig-
trough, and when he blew his instrument grunted like so
many pigs.

Among the men Evila saw Peter Saffran. He was in
high spirits, leaping so high as he danced that his fist
struck the ceiling. He danced with a girl whose cheeks
had two spots of red paint. Peter had both his arms
round her waist; he threw her up and caught her again,
kissing her painted face.

Evila turned away in disgust and hastened back
through the woods, unmindful of the cries of the wolves
and the howling of the wind. She had not even her

stick ; that she had dropped, and she had no means of

beating the bushes.

* * * ” ok * *
That evening Felix Kaulmann came again to Ivan.

60 BLACK DIAMONDS

“‘T want to have your last word,” he said. “ Will you
join my speculation ?”

“T don’t change my mind so quickly,” returned Ivan,
coldly. ‘My answer is the same as it was this morn-
ing—I will not.”

“Very well. I have acted in a friendly manner in
this matter, and now I tell you frankly that, as you do
not choose to join me, I shall start the company alone,
always leaving it open to you to rescind your determina-
tion and to join me if you wish. I cannot say fairer
than this, and I trust we shall always be good friends.
You will forgive me if I try to pick up some of the dia-
monds which are scattered about.”

“TI leave you perfectly free to do what you can.”

“‘T shall avail myself of your permission, and the day
will come when I shal] remind you of your words.”

Ivan’s forehead contracted as he thought, “ What does
he mean? What can he take from me? Not my coal-
mine; that is mine by right of possession, and the law
protects me. The cut on the neighboring mountain?
So he may! What I have suffices for me.”

**Good-luck to your company !” he said, aloud; “and
many thanks to the director.”

So they parted. Early next morning Ivan was roused
from his sleep. It was the post-horn which sounded the
note of Felix Kaulmann’s departure. Ivan wished him
a happy journey, then fell asleep again. Later, as he
was leaving his house, he met Peter Saffran at the door.
The miner presented a sorry figure. His features bore
the impression of his night’s dissipation; his eyes were
bloodshot, his hair ragged, his dress in disorder.

“Now, what is it?” asked Ivan, angrily.

“Sir,” said the man, in a hoarse voice, “that doctor
who was with you yesterday—his name?”

THE DOCTOR 61

“ What do you want with him?”

“ He has carried off Evila!” burst out Peter. In wild
agitation he snatched the hat off his head, tore his hair,
and raised both his hands to heaven.

In the first moment Ivan was conscious of feeling a
cruel satisfaction.

“Tt serves you right, you beast!” he said. ‘Serves
you right! What business had you to ill-use the girl—
your promised wife—on the very day that you were called
for the third time?”

“Oh, sir,” cried the miserable man, his teeth chatter-
ing, and beating his head with his hands, “I was drunk!
I did not know what I did; and, after all, it was only a
few blows with a light strap. What was that? With us
common people it is nothing. A woman likes a man the
better when he cudgels her. It is true; but to leave me
for a gentleman—”

Ivan shrugged his shoulders and went on his way. The
miner caught him by the tail of his coat.

“ Ah, sir, what shall I do? Tell me, what shall I do?”

Ivan, however, was in no mood for giving advice; he
was angry. He pushed Peter away, saying, sternly :

“Go to hell! Run to the tavern, drink brandy, then
choose among the girls whose company you frequent
another bride, who will be only too glad if you are
drunk every day in the year.”

Peter took up his hat, put it on his head, looked Ivan
in the face, and, in an altered voice, said:

“No, sir, I shall never drink brandy again; only once
in my life shall I taste the accursed thing—once. You
will remember what I say, and when I smell of it, when
I am seen coming out of the public-house, or when you
hear that I have been there, then stay at home, for on
that day no one will know how or when he will die.”

62 BLACK DIAMONDS

Ivan left the man standing, and going back into his
house, shut the door behind him. His first satisfaction
at the news was passing away. This miserable peasant,
who had dared to be his successful rival, had lost the
treasure which he coveted. ‘The fool had the pearl in his
keeping, but he didn’t know how to value it, and he had
let it fall. ‘That was good; but where had it fallen, this
pearl so white and lovely in its purity and innocence?
His soul was full of sorrow as he thought how in his eyes
it had lost all its value. The girl who had seemed to him
so virtuous, who kept her troth’ so faithfully, whose sim-
plicity had been what he really loved—she had fallen at
the first word from a villain. She refused her master,
who had honorably offered her his name, his house, his
all. But he had not the gifts of the other; he was not
a dressed-up fellow, with town manners and seductive
ways; he had not the tongue of a seducer, and had not
promised her jewels and fine clothes, balls and operas.
It was the same story with all women, and Mahomet was
right when he gave them no souls, and no place either
on earth or in heaven.

CHAPTER VI

COUNTESS THEUDELINDE

THE mistress of Bondavara was at this time fifty-eight
years old. Ivan had not overstated her age when he
gave Felix the information. Countess Theudelinde had
long since given up the world. The renunciation cost
her very little; she had never been in touch with it. Up
to her fourteenth year she had grown up in the house
of her father, the prince; at that period her mother, the
princess, died. The governess of Theudelinde was beau-
tiful, the prince was old. The countess—only the first-
born can have the princely title; the younger children
are all counts and countesses—could not, for various
reasons, remain under the paternal roof; she was sent
out of the way and to finish her education at a convent.
Before she went, however, she was betrothed to the
Marquis Don Antonio de Padua, only son of the Mar-
quis de Colomorano, then eighteen years of age. It was
settled between the two fathers that when Antonio was
twenty-four and Theudelinde twenty, she should be
fetched out of her convent, and,both should be united
in wedlock by Holy Church. This arrangement was
carried out so far as Theudelinde spending six blameless
years in a most highly respectable convent. She was
then brought home, and the marriage bells were set
ringing. But, horror of horrors, when the girl saw her
betrothed husband, she shrieked and ran away! This

64 BLACK DIAMONDS

was not the man she had promised to marry; this one
had a mustache! (Naturally, for he was an officer in
the hussars.)

Theudelinde had never seen a man with a mustache.
Six years before, when she was at home, all the distin-
guished guests who came to her father’s house, the mag-
nates, the ambassadors, were all smooth-shaved, so were
the man-servants, even the coachman. In the convent
there was only one man, the father confessor; his face
was like a glass. And now they proposed to marry her
to a man all hair! Impossible! ‘The saints and the
prophets of old wore beards, that was true; some of
them had a good deal of hair, but none had it only on
the upper-lip. The only one she could remember with
this adornment was the servant of the high-priest in the
Stations of the Cross, which, to a pious mind like Theuw
delinde’s, was conclusive. She would hear no more of
the marriage; the betrothal rings were returned on
both sides, and the alliance was at an end.

After this the countess avoided all worldly amuse-
ments. Nothing would induce her go to a ball, or to
the theatre. Nevertheless, she did not seem inclined to
take the veil; she had strong leanings towards this
wicked world, only she wanted one of a different sort,
without the wickedness. She desired out of the general
chaos to create an ideal, and this ideal should be her
husband. He should be tender, faithful, no wine-
drinker, no smoker; a.man with a smooth face, a pure
soul, a sweet-sounding voice; a gifted, sympathetic,
patient, amiable, soft, romantic, domestic, pious man;
prudent, scientific, literary, distinguished, well-born,
much respected, covered with orders, rich, loyal, brave,
and titled. Such a vara avis was impossible to find.
Countess Theudelinde spent the best days of her life

COUNTESS THEUDELINDE 65

seeking a portrait to fit the frame she had made, but she
sought in vain; there was no husband for her.

When the countess had reached thirty there was a halt.
The ideal was as far off as ever. She was anxious to
come to terms with the world, but the world would
have none of her. Her day was past; she had no right
to any pretensions. She found herself in the posi-
tion of having to choose between utter renunciation or
acceptance of the world, with all its wickedness. At
this critical juncture the old prince, her father, died,
leaving the countess the property of Bondavara, together
with the castle. Here Theudelinde retired to nurse her
ideal, and mourn over her shattered idols. Here she
was absolute mistress, her brother, to whom the property
reverted, leaving her to her own devices.

The countess carried out, therefore, her theories un-
molested, and her dislike to beards and mustaches had
free play. The growers of these enormities were ban-
ished from her presence, and, as was only a natural con-
sequence, as time went on her hatred of the male sex in-
creased. No man was allowed in the neighborhood of
the countess. She only suffered women about her—not
alone in the house, but outside. The garden, the con-
servatories, were attended to by women — unmarried
women, all. Matrimony was as a red rag to Theudelinde,
and no one durst mention the word in her presence.
Any girl who showed any inclination to wear the “ ma-
tron’s cap” was at once dismissed with contumely. Even
the “coachman” was a woman; and for the reason that
it would not have been fitting to sit upon a coach-box in
woman’s clothes, this female Jehu was allowed to wear
a long coachman’s cloak, a man’s coat, as also a cer-
tain garment, at the bare mention of which an English-
woman calls out, ‘Oh, how shocking!” and straightway

5

66 BLACK DIAMONDS

faints. Truly, at the time this history was written, in
our good land of Hungary, this very garment played a
serious part, since it was the shibboleth and visible sign
of fidelity to the governing powers, and of submission to
the mediators; in truth, ever since those days the “leg
of the boot” has been worn. So it came to pass that
Mrs. Liese wore this thing, the only one of the kind to
be seen in the castle. Liese, also, was allowed to drink
wine, and to smoke tobacco, and, needless to say, she
did both.

Fraulein Emerenzia, the countess’s companion, was,
so to speak, the exact counterpart of her noble mistress.
The countess was tall and slender; she had a white skin,
her features were sharp, her nose almost transparent,
her lips, scarlet in color, were shaped like a bow; her
cadaverous form bent forward ; her eyelids fell over her
lack-lustre eyes, her face appeared to have two sides
which didn’t belong to one another, each half having a
totally different expression; even the wrinkles didn’t
correspond. She wore her hair as it was worn in the
days of her youth, as it was worn when Caroline Pia
was married, and as it is possible it will be worn again.
Her hands were fine, transparent ; they were not strong
enough to cut the leaves of a book with a paper-knife.
Her whole being was nerveless and sensitive. At the
slightest noise she would shriek, be seized with a cramp,
or go off in hysterics. She had certain antipathies to
beasts, flowers, air, food, motion, and emotion. At the
sight of a cat she was ready to faint; if she saw flesh-
colored flower her blood grew excited. Silver gave
everything an unpleasant taste, so her spoons were all
of gold. If any women crossed their legs she sent them
out of the room. If the spoons, knives, or forks were
by accident laid crosswise on the table, she would not

COUNTESS THEUDELINDE 07

sit down; and if she were to see velvet on any of her
attendants she was thrown into a nervous attack, from
the bare idea that perhaps her hand might come in con-
tact with this electric and antipathetic substance.
Fortunately for her household her nervous fears kept
her quiet at night. She locked and double-locked the
door of her room, and never opened it until the morning
came—no, not if the house were burning over her head.
Fraulein Emerenzia was, as we have before said, the
counterpart of her mistress, in so far that she affected a
close imitation of her ways, for in her appearance she
was a direct contrast, Emerenzia being a round, short,
fat woman, with a full face, the skin of which was so
tightly stretched that it was almost as white as the
countess’s; she had a snub nose, which in secret was
addicted to the vice of snuff-taking. Her dress and her
manner of doing her hair were identical with the count-
ess’s fashion in each, only that the stiff-set clothes had
on her small body a humorous expression. She affected
to be as nerveless as the countess ; her hands were as
weak—they could not break a chicken bone. Her eyes
were as sensitive to light, her antipathies were as nu-
merous, and she was as prone to faints and hysterics as
her patroness. In this direction, indeed, she went fur-
ther. So soon as she observed that there was any cause
for emotional display, she set up trembling and scream-
ing, and so got the start of the countess, and generally
managed to sob for a minute longer; and when Theu-
delinde fell fainting upon one sofa Emerenzia dropped
lifeless upon another ; likewise, she took longer coming
to than did her mistress, At night Emerenzia slept pro-
foundly. Her room was only separated from that of the
countess by an ante-chamber, but Theudelinde might tear
down all the bells in the castle without waking her com-

68 BLACK DIAMONDS

panion, who maintained that her sleep was a species of
nervous trance.

One man only was ever allowed entrance into the
Castle of Bondavara. What do we say?—no man, no
masculinum, The language of dogma has defined that
the priest is xeutrius generis, is more and less than a being
of the male sex; bodily he can be no man’s father, spir-
itually he is father of thousands. No one need think
he will here read any calumnies against the priesthood.
The pastor Mahok was a brave, honest man; he said
mass devoutly, baptized, married, buried when called
upon, would get up in the middle of the night to attend
the death-bed of a parishioner, and would never grumble
at the sacristan for waking him out of his first sleep.
The pastor wrote no articles in the Church News, neither
did he ever read one. If he wanted a newspaper he
borrowed from the steward the daily paper. When his
clerk collected Peter’s pence, Pastor Mahok sent it with
an additional gulden or two to the office of the chief
priest ; but this did not prevent him sitting down in the
evening to play “tarok” with the Lutheran pastor and
the infidel steward. He held to having a good cellar;
he had a whole family of bees in his garden, and was a
successful cultivator of fruit. In politics he was a loy-
alist, and confessed he belonged to the middle party,
which in the country means just this, and no more, “ We
vote for the tobacco monopoly, but we smoke virgin to-
bacco because it is good and we have it.”

From this account every one will understand that dur-
ing the course of this narrative this excellent gentleman
will offend no one. We would, in fact, have nothing to
say to him were it not that he came every day, punctu-
ally at eleven o’clock, to Bondavara Castle to hear the
countess’s confession, and that done, he remained to

COUNTESS THEUDELINDE 69

dinner, and in both directions he honestly earned his
small honorarium. There was a general air of satisfac-
tion in his whole appearance, in his double chin, in his
fresh color, in his round, shining face.

To-day the excellent man was punctual. The count-
ess, however, was not. Just as eleven o'clock struck,
the spiritual man knocked at the door of the sitting-
room. Only the voice of Emerenzia answered, “ Come
in!”

The smile of greeting on the countenance of the vis-
itor was reflected on that of the companion. It was the
meeting of two full moons.

“The countess is still locked in her room,’”’ Emeren-
zia said in a whisper, as if afraid that her voice could
penetrate into the third room.

The pastor expressed by a movement of his hand and
an elevation of his eyebrows that the sleep of the just
was not to be disturbed. The good man was not aware
that it was the toilette of the just that was then in prog-
ress. These mysteries were conducted by the countess
in private. No one, not even a faithful maid, was ad-
mitted until Theudelinde was clothed, and for this rea-
son her garments were made to close in front.

The priest made use of this unexpected delay to
search in the pocket of his coat, and to draw from
thence 2 mysterious something, which, after first casting
a look round the room, to make sure no one was spying
on him, he pressed into the fat hand of the countess’s
companion, who hastily concealed this surreptitious
something in the depths of the pocket of her dress, ex-
pressing her gratitude by a friendly nod, which the pas-
tor returned by a courteous movement which expressed,
“No thanks are necessary for so small a service.”
Whereupon Emerenzia, turning away, half-shyly drew

70 BLACK DIAMONDS

the something carefully out of her pocket, peered into
the contents of the same, held it close to her nose,
drinking in the scent of the something, turning her eyes
up to heaven, and again to the pastor, who, on his part,
expressed by the motion of the thumb and forefinger of
his left hand, ‘‘ Excellent—special brand!” Then, no
longer able to restrain her feelings, the companion took
from the mysterious packet between the thumb and
forefinger of Aer right hand something which she placed
in both nostrils, and sniffed up in silent ecstasy. It
was the pastor’s pleasure to fill Emerenzia’s snuff-box
with the very best mixture. This was the platonic bond
which existed between them—the mutual desire of two
noses for one ideal.

Yellow snuff is not an unattainable ideal. In the or
dinary way of business a quarter of a pound can be pro-
cured for a few pence ; but common snuff was as differ-
ent from the priest’s mixture as cherry brandy is from
Chartreuse, or Veuve Cliquot from the vintage of Pres-
burg. This is easily understood by those who take snuff.
How is it that a clergyman always has the best tobacco?
How does he prepare it? Does he get it prepared?
These are broad questions that a man of liberal mind
dare not ventilate. Even if he knew, it would not be
advisable to make use of his knowledge. One thing is
certain, the best tobacco is used by the Church. A
bishop, who died not long since, left behind him a hun-
dredweight of the most heavenly stuff, two ounces of
which fetched a ducat.

The quiet /é/e-d-/é/e between the two snuff-takers was
disturbed by the sound of a bell; then a metal slide in
the door of the countess’s room opened, and a tray with ©
an empty teacup was put through. This was a sign that
the countess had breakfasted,

COUNTESS THEUDELINDE 71

Every door in the castle had sliding panels, some
large, others small. The slides were made of copper,
the doors of strong wood, with brass locks and fasteners.
The door of the countess’s bedroom was all of iron,
covered on the inside with a tapestry curtain. Since no
man was allowed in the house, it was necessary to have
a defence system against any possible attack. This sys-
tem included some cleverly-constructed machinery, by
means of which the countess, by pressing her foot, could
raise up the flooring, and precipitate any bold invader of
the sacred precincts of her bedroom into a cellar without
light or exit. From the alcove of her bed an electric
telegraph connected with the fire-tower, so that by rais-
ing her finger the alarm-bell could be set ringing, and in
case of danger the masculine inhabitants of the adjacent
farm-houses and hunting-lodges could be summoned with-
out a moment’s delay. In Emerenzia’s room there was
likewise a communication with this electric apparatus,
and to the door were affixed the different signs by which
the countess expressed her wishes. The cup signified
that the waiting-maid was required, a book’ would have
meant that the companion was needed.

Emerenzia, therefore, sent the girl to her mistress.
When her work was finished the bell rang again, the
book appeared, and the companion went to the countess.
After a short time she returned, and opened the door for
the pastor, while she whispered to him softly—

“ She has seen the spirits again; she has much to tell
you.”

We will follow the pastor into his penitent’s room;
but no one need be afraid that he or she is about to
listen to the lady’s confession. When the pastor had
closed the door behind him, he came to the countess,
who sat in a large armchair, looking pale and exhausted.

2 BLACK DIAMONDS

She signed to the priest to take his place in another
armchair opposite to her.

“Have you seen them again?” he asked.

“‘T have,” said the countess, in an awed whisper. “ All
happened in the same way as usual. So soon as the
clock-tower had sounded midnight, there rose from below,
as if out of the vault, a fearful chorus of voices intoning
the De Profundis. It was a ghostly, terrible sound. I
could distinguish the solo of the celebrant, the anti-
phon, the chorus; and between them loud laughter,
diabolical words, the shrieks of women, and the clatter
of glasses. I heard comic songs accompanied by wild
howls ; then, again, the soft, pious hymn succeeded by
the wild disorder. I pinched my arm to see did I dream.
Here you can see the mark. *Twas not dreaming. I
got up; I wished to convince myself that I was awake.
I took my pencil and note-paper, and when a distinct
tune reached my ear I wrote it down. Here is the paper.
You understand music.” ’

The priest threw a hasty glance over the ghostly
melody, and recognized a well-known Hungarian volks-
lied — “‘ Maiden with the black eyes, let me taste thy
lips.” Undoubtedly an unclean song to issue from the
family vault at midnight!

“ And, gracious countess, have you never heard the
peasants singing this in the fields?”

The countess drew herself up with dignity. “Do I
frequent the places where peasants sing ?” she made an-
swer; and then continued her story. ‘“ These notés are
sufficient proof that I was awake; my nerves were too
excited to allow me to sleep again. Moreover, I was
drawn by an invincible desire to go to the spot from
whence the sound came. I dressed myself. I am cer-
tain that I took out my grass-green skirt of Gros de

EE —_—s_S eas

COUNTESS THEUDELINDF 73

‘Naples, with a flounce of cashmere. I called none of

my servants; every one in the house was asleep. An
extraordinary courage awoke in me. Quite alone I de-
scended the steps which lead to the family vault. When
I reached the door both sides opened of themselves; I

entered, and found myself in the presence of my de-

parted ancestors. The monuments were all removed,
the niches empty; the occupiers of both sat round the
long table which stands in the vault, in the identical
dress in which they are painted in the portraits which
hang in the hall, and by which their calling in life is dis-
tinguishable. My great-uncle, the archbishop, in full
canonicals, celebrated mass before the requiem altar;
my grandfather, the chancellor, had large parchment
documents before him, upon which he affixed the state
seal. My great-uncle, the field-marshal, in armor, and
with the marshal’s baton in his hand, gave orders. My
ancestress Katherine, who was a lady of the court, and
of remarkable beauty, rolled her eyes about, and in her
whole face no feature moved but those glittering eyes;
and my aunt Clementina, the abbess of the Ursuline
Convent, sang psalms with my uncle, in which the others
from time to time joined.”

“But the laughter, the tumult, the comic songs?”
asked the pastor.

“T am coming to that. At the other end of the table
sat some of my more distant relatives—my young cousin
Clarissa, who danced herself to death; and a cousin,
who was a celebrated flute player; and my great-uncle
Otto, who was devoted to hazard, and now rattled dice
into a copper goblet, and cursed his bad-luck when he
made a bad throw; also another cousin, who died on the
very night of her marriage, and still wore a faded wed-
ding wreath ; finally, my uncle Ladislaus, who was ban-

74 BLACK DIAMONDS

ished from the family circle early in the century, and
whose frame hangs in the picture-gallery empty, his por-
trait being removed.”

“How did you know him, then?” By this question
the pastor hoped to check the flow of the countess’s
visions.

Theudelinde, however, answered that her uncle Ladis-
laus, being a rebel and a heretic, had not alone been de-
clared a traitor, but had incurred the ban of excommuni-
cation. He was taken prisoner and beheaded. ‘“ And
therefore,” she added, with an air of conviction, “it was
easy to recognize him by his death’s-head. Likewise,
during his lifetime he ignored the king’s express com-
mand, and was the first to introduce tobacco-smoke into
the country, and on this account, at his execution, he re-
ceived the punishment awarded to the smoker, of hay-
ing a pipe-handle run through his nose. Last night, as
he sat at the table, he held between the teeth of his
monstrous death’s-head a large meerschaum pipe, and
the whole vault smelled in the most fearful manner of
tobacco-smoke.” __

This remark convinced the priest that the countess
had been dreaming.

“ Between both my cousins,” she went on, “the nun
and the bride, there was an empty chair. There I felt
obliged to seat myself. The bride wished to hear of the
fashions; she praised the stuff of my Gros de Naples
dress, taking it between her fingers, which, when they
touched mine, were cold as death itself. The upper end
of the table was covered with green cloth, the lower end
with a yellow silk table-cloth, embroidered with many-
colored flowers. At this end every one laughed, talked,
sang noisy songs; while at the top the psalms were
intoned and the antiphon was sung. Both sounded hor-

— | _— e

COUNTESS THEUDELINDE 75

rible in my ears. The dishes contained cooked hazel-
hens and roast pheasants, with the feathers sticking in
their heads; sparkling wine filled the cups. I was
pressed to eat and drink, but neither the food nor the
liquor had any taste. Once the bride, my cousin, as is
the custom with very young girls, offered me the spur of
the pheasant’s breast, saying, jokingly, ‘ Break this spur
with me, and we shall see which of us two gets a hus-
band first.’ I seized hold of my end of the spur; I
tugged and tugged, and at last broke it. The largest
half remained in my hand. The bride laughed. ‘Theu-
delinde shall be the first married !’ she cried. I blushed ;
it seemed to me something terrible that the spirits of my
dead ancestors should be so frivolous.”

The worthy pastor said nothing. Nevertheless, he
was minded to agree with his penitent. He could not
imagine why blessed souls, or even condemned ones,
should occupy themselves breaking pheasant bones with
an old maid, of all people in the world.

“What gave me most offence,” continued Theude-
linde, “‘ was the outrageous behavior of my uncle Ladis-
laus. One minute he shrieked, then laughed loudly,
sang horrid songs. Again he broke out into fearful
curses, scorned the saints, the pope, the sacraments,
made witticisms that brought a blush to the faces of the
ladies, and blew all his tobacco-smoke over me. I
shook the skirt of my green silk to prevent the hor-
rid smell sticking to it, but I felt this precaution
was of little use. My uncle Ladislaus began then to
tease me, and said I had concealed the prophetic bone
in the pocket of my green dress, My face glowed with
shame, for it was true. I denied it, however, where-
upon he began to swear in his heathenish way, and to
thump with his fists on the table until the vault re

76 BLACK DIAMONDS

sounded with his blows. My cousins put their hands
over his mouth. Then he spoke through his empty
eye-sockets. It was terrible! He cursed all the saints
in the calendar and the emperor. My great-uncle, the
archbishop, stretched out his hands and damned him;
my grandfather, the chancellor, sealed the sentence;
and my great-uncle, the field-marshal, drew his sword
and cut off my uncle’s death’s-head. The head rolled
over, and fell at my feet, still holding the pipe between
its teeth, and blew its filthy breath over me. Then I
arose and fled.” |

The pastor had now made up his mind that the whole
story was nothing but the dream of an hysterical wom-
an. It was strange, however, that the countess should
have the same vision so often, and that it should always
begin in the same manner.

As she now concluded her recital with the words,
“As I took off my silk dress it smelled horribly of tobacco-
smoke,” a brilliant idea came to Father Mahok.

“Will you excuse my asking you where your green
dress is?” he asked, gravely.

The countess betrayed some embarrassment.

“T do not know. My wardrobe is in the care of
Fraulein Emerenzia—”

* Allow me to ask you the question, did you not take
the dress off in this apartment ?”

“T no longer remember. Emerenzia has been here
since ; she may know.”

“Will you grant me the favor, countess, to send for
Fraulein Emerenzia?”

“Certainly. She will be here in a minute.”

The countess pressed her finger twice on the electric
apparatus, and the companion entered.

“Fraulein,” said the countess, “you remember my

COUNTESS THEUDELINDE 77

green Gros de Naples silk, bordered with a trimming
of fur?”

“Yes; it is a pelisse of peculiar cut, with hanging
sleeves, and fastened by a silk band and buckle.”

“That is the dress,” returned the countess. ‘‘ Where
is it?”

“In the wardrobe. I hung it there myself, first put-
ting camphor in the sleeves, that the moths might not
get at the fur.”

“When did you do this?”

“Last summer.”

The pastor laughed slyly to himself. ‘“ Now,” thought
he, “the countess must be convinced that she dreamed
the whole scene she has so accurately described.”

“Have I not worn it since last summer?” questioned
Theudelinde.

“Not once. The open-hanging sleeves are only for
the hottest weather.”

“ Tmpossible !”

“ But, countess,” put in the priest, “it is easy to con-
vince yourself of what ma’m’selle says. You have only
to look into the wardrobe. Who keeps the key ?”

“Ma’m’selle Emerenzia.” 7

“Do you command me to open the press ?” asked the
companion, with a discomfited look.

“T do,” answered the countess, nodding to the pastor
to follow her into the next room.

Emerenzia, her face puckered into an expression of
annoyance, drew her bunch of keys from her pocket,
and placed one in the lock of an antique and highly or-
namented press, of which she threw the doors open.
At least fifty silk dresses hung there, side by side. The
countess never allowed any of her clothes to get into
strange hands; no man’s eye should ever rest upon

78 BLACK DIAMONDS

what she had worn. Through this museum of old
clothes Emerenzia’s fingers went with unerring cer-
tainty, and drew forth the oft-mentioned green silk dress
with the fur trimming.

“ Here it is,” she said, shortly.

The pastor was triumphant, but the countess, whose
nerves were more impressionable than those of ordinary
mortals, grew suddenly pale and began to shake all
over.

“Take that dress down,” she said, in a whisper. And
Emerenzia, with a jerk, tore it from its peg. What, in
Heaven’s name, had come to the pastor and her mis-
tress?

The countess took it from her hand, and held it, while
she turned her head the other way, across his nose.

“Do you smell it?” shesaid. “Is it tobacco-smoke?”

Father Mahok was astonished. ‘This fine silk dress,
straight from out of a lady’s wardrobe, smelled as strong-
ly of the commonest tobacco as the coat of a peasant
who had passed his night in an ale-house. Before he
could answer Theudelinde’s question she was ready with
another. From the pocket of the green Gros de Naples
she now drew forth a broken pheasant bone.

“And this?” she asked. But here her strength was
exhausted. Without waiting for a reply, she fell faint-
ing on the sofa.

Emerenzia, sobbing loudly, fell helplessly into an arm-
chair. ‘The clergyman was so upset by the whole thing _
that, in his embarrassment, he opened the doors of three
more wardrobes before finding the one which communi-
cated with the sitting-room. Then he summoned the
servants to attend to their mistress. Zhe evidence of
witchcraft was proved,

CHAPTER VII

THE COUNTESS’S ALBUM

THe worthy Pastor Mahok was of opinion that the
mystery of the countess’s dress smelling so strongly of
tobacco-smoke could not be accounted for by any law of
Nature, and judged, therefore, by the light of his priestly
office, as well as from his worldly experience, that these
diabolical visions were matters worthy of deep consider-
ation on his part. They occupied his mind during din-
ner, which he partook of in company with the countess’s
companion, but of the subject of his thoughts he spoke

‘no word to her. They were alone at table. The countess

remained in her room, as was her habit when she suf-
fered from what was called “cramps,” and her only re-
freshment was some light soup. After dinner she again
sent for the pastor.

He found her lying on the sofa, pale and exhausted ;
her first words had reference to the subject which filled
both their minds.

‘‘ Are you now convinced,” she said, “ that what I told
you was, indeed, no dream ?”

“ Doubtless there has been some strange work going
on,”

“Ts it the work, think you, of good or bad spirits ?”
asked the countess, raising her eyes.

“That can only be ascertained by a trial.”

“What sort of a trial, holy father ?”

80 BLACK DIAMONDS

“An attempt to exorcise them. If these spirits who
every night leave their graves are good, they must, by
the strength of the exorcism, return to their resting-
places, and remain there till summoned by the angel’s
trumpet to arise on the last day.”

“ And in case they don’t return?” inquired the count-
ess, anxiously.

“Then they are bad spirits.”

“That is to say, damned. How do you know that?”

For a minute there was a struggle in the pastor’s
mind ; then he answered, boldly:

“This night I shall keep watch in the castle.”

“ And if you hear the unearthly noises ?”

‘Then I shall descend into the vault, and scatter the.
ghosts with holy water.”

The countess’s face glowed with fervor as she ex-
claimed :

“ Holy father, I shall accompany you.”

“No, countess; no one shall accompany me but my
sacristan.”

“The sacristan! Aman! He shall not put his foot
in this house!” cried the countess, excitedly.

The pastor, in a soothing voice, explained to her that
his sacristan was almost as much a part of the Church
as himself; moreover, that he was absolutely necessary-
on this occasion for the performance of the exor-
cism ; in fact, without him the ceremony could not take
place, seeing that the sacred vessel containing the
holy water, the crucibulum and lanterns, should be car-
ried before him to give all due effect to the religious
rite.

Under these circumstances Countess Theudelinde
gave her consent, on the condition that the obnoxious
male intruder should not enter the castle itself. Still

tHE CoUNTESS’s ALBUM 8:

more, the pastor promised to watch in the greenhouse
after the castle gates were locked.

According to these arrangements, when it began to

get dark, Father Mahok arrived, bringing with him his
sacristan, a man of about forty, with a closely shaved
mustache and a very copper-colored face. The pastor
left him in the greenhouse, and proceeded himself to
the dining-room, where the countess was awaiting him
for supper. No one ate a morsel. The pastor had no
appetite, neither had the countess, nor her companion.
The air was too full of the coming event to allow of
such a gross thing as eating.
_ After supper the countess withdrew to her room, and
Herr Mahok went to the greenhouse, where the sacristan
had made himself comfortable with wine and meat, and
had kept up the fires in the oven. The servants had
been kept in ignorance of what was going on; they had
never heard the midnight mass, nor the wild shrieks
and infamous songs of the inhabitants of the vault, and
the countess would not allow the ears of her innocent
handmaidens to be polluted with such horrors. There-
fore, every one in the castle slept. The pastor watched
alone. At first Herr Mahok tried to pass the long
hours of the night in reading his prayers, but as his
habitual hour for sleep drew near he had to fight a
hard battle with his closing eyelids. He was afraid that
if he slumbered his imagination would reproduce the
countess’s dream, to which, be it said, he did not give
credence; at the same time, he did not wholly doubt.
Generally, he found that his breviary provoked sleep,
and now he thought it better to close the book, and try
what conversation with the sacristan would do as a
means to keep awake.

The clerk’s discourse naturally turned upon ghostly
,

82 BLACK DIAMONDS

appearances ; he told stories of a monk without a head,
of spirits that appeared on certain nights in the year, of
hobgoblins and witches, all of which he had either seen
with his own eyes or had heard of from persons whose
veracity was unimpeachable.

“ Folly! lies !” said the excellent pastor ; but he conie
not help a creeping sensation coming over him. If he
could even have smoked, it would have strengthened his
nerves; but smoking was forbidden in the castle. The
countess would have smelled it, as the giant in the old
fairy tale smelled human flesh.

When the sacristan found that all his wonderful tales
of ghosts and hobgoblins were considered lies, he thought
it was no use tiring himself talking, and as soon as he
ceased sleep began to fall upon his eyelids. Seated
upon a stool, his head leaning against the wall, his
mouth open, he slept profoundly, to the envy, if not
the admiration, of the good pastor, who would willingly
have followed his example. Soon some very unmusical
sounds made themselves heard. The sacristan snored
in all manner of keys, in all variations of nasal discord,
which so jarred on the pastor’s nerves that he several
times. shook the sleeper to awake him, with the result
that he slept again in no time.

At last the clock on the castle tower chimed twelve.
Herr Mahok struck the sacristan a good blow on his
shoulder.

“Get up!” he said. “I did not bring you here to
sleep.”

The clerk rubbed his eyes, already drunk with sleep.
The pastor took his snuff-box to brighten himself up
with a pinch of snuff, when suddenly both men were
roused out of all the torpor of sleep by other means.
Just as the last beat of the clock had finished striking

THE COUNTESS’S ALBUM 83

the unearthly mass began to be intoned in the vault be-
low. Through the profound silence of the night was
heard the voice of the priest singing the Latin mass,
with the responses of the choir, accompanied by some
instrument that sounded like an organ, but which had
a shriller tone, and seemed to be a parody of the
same.

Over the whole body of Herr Mahok crept a ghostly
shiver.

“Do you hear it?” he asked the sacristan, in a whis-
per.

“Hear it? Who could help hearing it? Mass is
saying somewhere.”

“Here, under us, in the vault.”

“Who can it be?”

“The devil! All good spirits praise the Lord,” stam-
mered the worthy pastor, making the sign of the cross
three times.

* But it seems that the evil spirits praise the Lord as
well as the good ones,” returned the clerk.

This assertion of his was, however, quickly contradict-
ed, for in the middle of the next psalm a diabolical cho-
rus struck in wildly, and the air resounded with—

**Come, dearest, come to me,
Come, I am at home;
Two gypsies play for me,

And here I dance alone.”

Then followed shrieks of laughter, in which women’s
shrill cackle mingled with the hoarse roar of men and
the wildest discord, as if hell itself were let loose.

The poor priest, who had trembled at the pious
psalms, nearly fell to the ground on hearing this pan-
demonium. A cold sweat broke out all over him; he

84 BLACK DIAMONDS

knew now that the countess was right, and that this was,
in truth, the work of the evil one.

“ Michael,” he said, his teeth chattering with fear,
“have you heard—”

“T must be stone deaf if I didn’t—such an infernal
din!” replied the other. “All the spirits of hell are
holding a Sabbath—”

Just then there was the tinkle of a bell. The tumult
subsided, and the voice of the celebrant was once more
heard intoning mass.

“What shall we do?” asked Herr Mahok.

“What shall we do? Descend into the vault and ex-
orcise the evil spirits.”

“What!” cried the priest. ‘“ Alone?”

“ Alone!” repeated Michael, with religious fervor.
“ Are we alone when we come in the name of the Lord
of armies? Besides, we are two. If I were a priest,
and if I were invested with the stole, had I the right to
wear the three-cornered hat, I should go into the vault,
carrying the holy water, and with the words, ‘ Apage
Satanas,’ I would drive before me all the legions of hell
itself.”

The excellent pastor felt ashamed that his ignorant
sacristan should possess greater faith, and show more
courage in this combat with the powers of darkness,
than himself; still, fear predominated over his shame.

“T would willingly face these demons,” he said, in
a somewhat hesitating manner, “were it not that the
gout has suddenly seized my right foot. I am not able
to walk.”

“But consider what a scandal it will be if we, who
have heard the spirits, have not pluck enough to send
them packing.”

“But my foot, Michael ; I cannot moye my foot,”

THE COUNTESS’S ALBUM 85

“Well, then, I will carry you on my back. You can
hold the holy water and I will take the lantern.”

There was no way out of this friendly offer. The pastor
commended his soul to God, and, taking heart, resolved
to fight the demons below, armed only with the holy
insignia of his office. The good man, however, did not
mount, like Anchises on the back of Atneas, without
much inward misgiving.

“You will be careful, Michael; you will not let me
fall?” he said, in a somewhat quavering voice.

“Don't be afraid, pastor,” returned the sacristan, as
he stooped and raised the pastor on his shoulders.
“Now, forward!” he cried, taking the lantern in his
hands, while Herr Mahok carried the vessels necessary
for the exorcism.

A cold blast of air saluted them as they issued from
the greenhouse and crossed the large hall of the castle,
which the glimmering light from the small lantern only
faintly Hlumined. Half of it remained in darkness;
but on the side of the wall where hung the portraits
of the armed knights an occasional gleam showed Herr
Mahok the faces of the countess’s warlike ancestors,
who had done in their day good service against the
Turks. They looked at him, he thought, somewhat con-
temptuously, and seemed to say, “What sort of man is
this, who goes to fight pickaback ?”

Michael stopped before a strong iron door in the
centre of the hall. This was the entrance to the sub-
terranean vaults and cellars underneath the castle.
And now the pastor suddenly remembered he had left
the key of this gate in the greenhouse. There was noth-
ing for it but to retrace their steps. Just as they
reached the threshold, however, Michael suggested that
something very hard was pressing against his side.

86 BLACK DIAMONDS

Could it be the key which was, after all, in his rever-
ence’s pocket? This suggestion proved correct, and
once more he had to run the gantlet of the old cru-
saders and their contemptuous superiority.

The key creaked as it turned in the lock, and a
heavy, damp smell struck upon them as they passed
through the iron gate.

“Leave the door open,” said the pastor, with an eye
to securing a safe retreat.

And now they began to descend the steps, Herr
Mahok remarking that his horse was not too sure-footed.
He tottered in going down the steps so much that the
pastor, in his fright, caught him with his left hand
tightly by the collar, while he pressed the other more
closely round his throat, a proceeding which Michael
resented by calling out, in a strangled voice:

“Reverend sir, don’t squeeze me so; I am suffocat-
ing!”

“What was that ?”

A black object whizzed past them, circling round
their heads. A bat, the well-known attendant upon
ghosts!

“ We shall be there in a few minutes,” said the clerk,
to encourage his rider, whose teeth chattered audibly.

While they were descending the steps the noise in the
vault had been less audible, but now, as they came into
the passages which ran underneath the hall, it broke out
again in the most horrible discord. The passage was
long, and there were two wings; one led to the cellars
proper, the other to the vaults. Opposite to the steps
there was across passage, at the end of which, by as-
cending some seven or eight steps and passing through
a lattice door, you could get into the open air. This
lattice served likewise as a means of ventilating the

THE COUNTESS’S ALBUM 87

passages, and on this particular night there was such a
strong current of air that the light in the lantern was in
danger every minute of being blown out. It would have
been well if that were all. The sacristan hadn’t taken
three steps in the direction of the vault before a terrible
sight revealed itself to both men.

At the other end of the passage a blue flame burned ;
before the flame there stood, or sat, or jumped, a dwarfish
figure all in white. It was not three feet in height, and,
nevertheless, its head was of monstrous size. As the
sacristan, with the pastor, drew near this horrid ap-
pearance, the blue flame suddenly flared up, throwing a
bright, whitish light all over the passage, and by this
light the terrified spectators beheld the dwarfish figure
stretch itself out, and grow taller and taller—six, eight,
twelve feet—and still it grew and grew. Its shadow
danced in the light of the blue flame upon the marble
floor of the passage like a black serpent. Then the fear-
ful appearance raised its head, and the vaulted toof
echoed with its howls and shrieks.

Michael’s courage flew out of the window. He turned,
and, burdened as he was with the weight of the pastor
on his back, he ran back as fast as he could. In the
middle of the passage, however, he made a false step
and fell, with Herr Mahok, flat upon his face. In the
fall he broke the lantern, the light went out, and left
them in the dark. Groping along with outstretched
hands, they missed the steps which led up to the iron
gate, but after some time found themselves in the cross
passage, and saw the soft light of the moon shining
through the lattice window. ‘They made at once for the
door. At first there was some difficulty in opening it,
but Michael managed to force it, and, to their great joy,
they were once more in the open air. Over the stubble,

88 BLACK DIAMONDS

through the thorn-bushes they flew, never pausing to
iook back. Singularly enough, the gout in the pastor’s
toot in no way affected his speed. He ran quite as fast
as Michael, and in less than a quarter of an hour was in
his bed. So, too, the sacristan, whose fright produced
an attack of fever, which kept him a prisoner there for
three days.

The next morning Herr Mahok, with many inward
qualms, went up to the castle. His was an honest,
simple mind; he preferred rather to believe in the wiles
of the devil than in the wickedness of human nature ; he
credited what he had seen with his own eyes, and never
sought to penetrate the dark veil which shrouds many
supernatural mysteries. He believed firmly that he had
now to do with damned spirits, who at their midnight
orgies cracked pheasant bones to see who should first
be married.

He found the countess in good humor; she was
friendly, lively, and received her visitor with a smiling
countenance. This change did not surprise Herr Ma-
hok. He was by this time accustomed to the caprices
of Countess Theudelinde. One day she was out of
humor, the next all serenity.

The pastor went straight to the kernel he had to crack.

“T watched last night,” he said.

“Oh, father, thanks, ten thousand thanks! Your
mere presence has been sufficient to banish the evil
spirits which have haunted the castle for so long. Last
night all was peace; not a sound did I hear.” |

“Not a sound!” cried the pastor, rising from his
chair in his astonishment at suchastatement. ‘ Count-
ess, is it possible that you did not hear the noise?”

“Profound repose, Arcadian peace, reigned in the
house, both up-stairs and below.”

THE COUNTESS’S ALBUM 89

* But I was there, and awake. I did not dream it.
And, moreover, I can show you the bruises and abrasions
on my elbow; they witness to the fall we had, to say
nothing of Michael, the sacristan, who is this moment
in a high fever in consequence. No, never did any one
hear so demoniacal, so terrible a noise as echoed through
the vault last night. I was there myself, countess, in
my own person. I was ready to encounter the wicked
spirits; I would have met them armed with all the
terrors of Mother Church, but the courage of my weak-
kneed sacristan failed. I have now come to tell you
that my knowledge is at an end. This castle is be-
witched, and, countess, my advice to you is to leave it
without delay, and to take up your residence in a city,
where your family ghost cannot follow you.”

The countess placed the middle finger of her left
hand upon her breast, and spoke with haughty dignity :

“T leave this castle because the spirits of my ances-
tors dwell here! Your advice, reverend father, shows
how little you know me. To my mind, it is a power-
ful reason for remaining. Here the spirits of my fore-
fathers, the ghosts of ancestors, surround me. They
know me, they claim me as theirs; they honor me with
their visits, with their invitations, and you counsel me
to abandon them. Never! Bondavara is dearer to me
than ever; the presence of my ancestors has doubled
its value a hundredfold.”

It was on the tip of Herr Mahok’s tongue to answer,
“ Well, then, remain here by all means, but for my part
I give my resignation; provide yourself with another
confessor.” He restrained himself, however, and said,
quietly :

“Will you tell me, countess, how it happens that, if
you have these close relations with your ancestors’

go BLACK DIAMONDS

spirits, you heard nothing of the witch’s Sabbath they
kept last night ?”

At this bold question the countess’s pale cheeks were
suddenly decorated by two carnation spots; her eyes
fell before the sharp look of her father confessor, and,
striking her breast with her hand, she sank slowly on
her knees, whispering, in great agitation :

“Pater, peccavi. There is something which I have
never confessed to you, and which lies heavy on my
conscience.”

“ What is it?”

“Oh, I fear to tell you!”

“Daughter, fear nothing,” said the priest, soothingly.
“God is merciful to human weakness.”

“T believe that; but Iam more afraid that you will
laugh at me.”

“Ah!” And the pastor, at this strange speech, fell
back in his chair, smiling to himself. |

- The countess rose from her kneeling position and went
to her writing-table; she opened a secret drawer, and
took from thence an album. It was a splendid book
with an ivory cover, chasings of gilt enamel, and clasp
of the same.

“Will you look through this album, father ?”

The priest opened the clasp, took off the cover, and
saw a collection of cabinet photographs, such as are gen-
erally to be found on drawing-room tables. There were
portraits of eminent statesmen, poets, actors, with whose
likenesses all the world is familiar. Two points were
remarkable in this gallery—one, that no one was in-
cluded who had any scandal connected with his name;
secondly, it was only clean-shaved men who had a place
in the volume. Herr Mahok recognized many whom he
knew either by sight or personally—Liszt, Reményi, the

SOE ———————=— =

‘HE COUNTESS’s ALBUM gr

actors Lendvay, Szerdahelyi, and others, together with
many foreign celebrities, who wore neither beard nor
mustache. Another peculiarity struck the pastor. Sev-
eral of the leaves, instead of portraits, had pieces of
black crape inserted into the frames. This circum-
stance made him reflective. .

“Tt is a very interesting volume,” he said, closing the

_ book; “but what has it to do with the present circum-

stances ?” 7

“T confess to you,” said the countess, in a low voice,
“that this book is a memorial of my folly and weakness.
A picture-dealer in Vienna has for many years had an
order from me; he sends me every photograph that
comes out of clean-shaved men, and I seek among them
for my ideal. I have been seeking many years. Some-
times I imagine I have found it; some one of the por-
traits takes my fancy. I call the man whom it repre-
sents my betrothed. I place the photograph before
me; I dream for hours looking at it; I almost fancy
that it speaks to me. We say to one another all man-
ner of things—sweet nothings, but they fill my mind
with a sort of ecstasy. It is silly, I know, and some-
thing tells me that it is worse than silly, that it is sinful.
I have been for a long time wondering whether I should
confess this as a sin, or keep silence about such foolish
nonsense. What is your opinion, father ?” ‘

Herr Mahok, in truth, did not know what to say. It
was true that in the Scripture some words were said
about sinning with the eyes, but photographs were not
named. He answered, vaguely—

“ Anything further, my daughter ?”

** After I had for some time been silly over one of the
portraits, I saw in a dream the man it represented. He
appeared to me as a beautiful apparition, we walked to-

92 BLACK DIAMONDS

gether through fields and meadows, arm-in-arm; a sort
of heavenly halo surrounded us, flowers sprang up under
our feet. We were young, and we loved one another.”
The poor lady wept bitterly as she related her dream,
and she sobbed as she said, “Is not this a sin, father ?”

Herr Mahok had no hesitation in answering. He had
found the name of the sin—it was witchcraft; but the
form the penance should take puzzled him. The count-
ess, however, helped him to a decision.

“ Ah,” she said, sadly, ‘I thought it was some demo-
niac possession; and for these visions, sweet as they
were, I must now do penance. Is it not so, father?
Will it satisfy for my fault if I burn in the fire the por-
trait of the man who appeared to me in my dream, and
fill the empty space in my book with black crape ?”

This remark explained the many frames filled with
crape. The pastor thought that the penance was well
chosen. Nothing could be better than a burnt-offering.

Theudelinde continued, “ During these visions I lie in
a profound slumber. My soul is no longer on the earth;
I am in the paradise of lovers. No earthly feeling chains
me here below; I am a clear spirit, consequently no
sound reaches me. I am as deaf to this world as if I
were already dead.”

“ Therefore the ghostly tumult never reached you last
night; you were wandering in your dream world.”

“I confess it was so,” whispered the countess, cover-
ing her face with her hands.

“Now, here is a nice state of things!” thought the
pastor. ‘The dead ancestors play all manner of pranks
in the family vault, while their descendant projects her-
self out of her human body to make love in some other
region. They are, indeed, an extraordinary race. A poor
man daren’t even think of such extravagances, and how

THE COUNTESS’S ALBUM 93

can I, a poor parish priest, deal with such queer goings-
on? I only know how to settle with the every-day pen-
itent, who commits the usual sins.”

This complication, in truth, of the ghosts below and
the bewitched countess above, was too much for a man
of his calibre to deal with. It required a superior genius
to exorcise the spirits and to calm the hysterical mind
of Theudelinde. In the difficulty it appeared to him
better to temporize.

“ My daughter, the penance you have imposed upon
_ yourself is well thought of. Have you already com-
mitted to the flames the portrait of the last demoniacal
appearance ?”

“No,” answered the countess, with all the hesitation
a young girl would have in speaking of her lover’s
picture.

“ And why not?” questioned the priest, almost sternly.
He was glad to find some tangible fault.

“It would be wrong, I think, to throw this particular
portrait into the fire.”

“ And wherefore should it be wrong ?”

Before she replied the countess opened a concealed
pocket of the album and drew forth what it contained.

“Ah!” cried the pastor as he took the photograph,
which he at once recognized as the Abbé Samuel, the
head of an influential order which possessed many dif-
ferent branches.

“The photographer in Vienna had my directions to
send me the photograph of every clean-shaven celebrity.
He, therefore, has committed the sin of sending me the
portrait of an eminent priest. The fault is mine, not his.”

“ And in your dreams have you wandered arm-in-arm
with the original of this?” asked Herr Mahok, still hold-
ing in his hand the photograph.

4 W&ACK DIAMONDS

“TI am guilty!” stammered the countess, laying het
hands upon her breast.

“Then,” said the pastor, “ Heaven inspired you not to
throw this portrait, like that of the others, into the fire,
for in this man you will find a physician able to cure
your sick soul. It is really providential that this por-
trait should be in your hands, for the others were idle,
foolish dreams. Here you have found your ideal, under
whose guidance you may hope to find health and salva-
tion. He will lead you, not in a dream, but in reality,
to the blessed regions of peace and true piety, where
alone, my daughter, real happiness is to be found. This
man possesses strength of mind and elevation of charac-
ter sufficient to exorcise all the spirits which haunt your
castle, and to banish from your mind those temptations
which spring from the same source as the more visible
demons which we call ghosts.”

CHAPTER VIII

THE EXORCIST

AcTING upon the advice of Herr Mahok, the countess
resolved to lay all her troubles before a new physician
for her soul. That very day the pastor wrote to Abbé
Samuel, who was then in Pesth, inviting him to come to
Bondavara Castle.

The abbé was a man of high calling; one of those
priests who are more or less independent in their ideas.
He had friendly relations with certain personages, and
the initiated knew that certain articles with the signature
“S,” which appeared in the opposition paper, were from
his pen. In society he was agreeable and polished, and
his presence never hindered rational enjoyment. In in-
tellectual circles he shone; his lectures, which were pre-
pared with great care, were attended by the é/ite of so-
ciety, and, as a natural consequence, the ultramontane
papers were much against him. Once, even, the police
had paid him a domiciliary visit, although they them-
selves did not know wherein he had given cause for
suspicion. All these circumstances had raised his repu-
tation, which had lately been increased by the appear-
ance of his picture in a first-rate illustrated journal.
This won for him the general public. . So stately was
his air, his high, broad forehead, manly, expressive feat-
ures, well-marked eyebrows, and frank, fearless look,
with nothing sinister or cunning in it. For the rest,

96 BLACK DIAMONDS

there was little of the priest about him; his well-knit,
robust, muscular form was rather that of a gladiator.
Through the whole country he was well-known as the
independent priest, who ventured to tell the government
what he thought.

For this reason the excellent Herr Mahok had for
him the greatest respect. He, as an insignificant parish
priest, could do nothing for his fatherland. It was true
that, many years ago, he had fought more than twenty
battles with the Honvéd Battalion; he had preached to
his men how they should love their country, and for
this he had been sentenced to death, which sentence
had been commuted to ten years’ imprisonment ; he had
passed five of those years in chains, and his feet still
bore the marks of the wounds made by the heavy irons.
But what were these trifles, of which Herr Mahok thought
little, in comparison to the bold deeds of the Abbé
Samuel, who dared to write independent articles in the
papers, and to sign them with the initial of his name.
‘To have fought with Haynau against the Russians under
fire of heavy cannon, to have been in the galleys, that
was a mere joke. ‘To have the fearful police upon your
track, that was serious. Herr Mahok thought most
highly of the abbé’s capabilities, measuring them by the
loss of his own physical and mental energy—for after
fifteen years, five of which had been spent in heavy iron
chains, a man is not what he was.

After some days the invited guest arrived at the par-
sonage of Herr Mahok. The pastor related to him,
circumstantially, all that had reference to the count-
ess, with the exception, of course, of such matters as
were under the sacred seal of confession. He told him
about the ghosts, and his own experience under that
head.

THE EXORCIST 97

Herr Samuel received the narration with fits of
laughter. ;

“You may laugh here as much as you like, but I beg
of you not to do so before the countess; she holds to
her ghosts,” remarked the pastor, with an air of one who
knew what he was saying.

The abbé then asked for information concerning the
disposition of the rooms in the castle, how they were
situated in regard to one another. He made the pastor
describe minutely every particular of what he had him-
self been witnsss to, also how he and his sacristan had
made good their escape through the lattice door.

The equipage of the countess came at the usual hour
to fetch both the guests to the castle, which lay at some
little distance from the village.

It was only natural, all things taken into account,
that the countess on her first introduction to the abbé
should lose all control of her nerves, and that she
should give way to several hysterical symptoms, which
could only be calmed by the abbé laying his hand in
paternal benediction upon her forehead. Fraulein Emer-
enzia’s nerves, in accordance with the sympathy which
existed between her and her mistress, became at once
similarly affected, and required a similar imposition of
hands ; but neither of the priests troubled themselves
about her, and when the countess recovered from her
attack, the companion did likewise.

During dinner, which was served with great elegance,
the abbé discoursed upon every possible subject, and
made inquiries as to the prospects of the country, the
occupations of the people, the age of the servants, and
so forth. He addressed a great deal of his conversa-
tion to Fraulein Emerenzia, attended to her wants; when
he offered her wine she covered her glass with her hand,

7

98 BLACK DIAMONDS

and declared she never tasted anything but water, which
seemed infinitely to surprise him; also, when he wished
to know whether the ring on her finger was one of
betrothal, Emerenzia tried to blush,and gave him to
understand that, from her own choice, she meant to live
and die a maid.

After dinner was over, Herr Mahok remained in the
dining-room to entertain the Fraulein—that is to say,
he seated himself in an armchair, folded his hands upon
his rotund stomach, closed his eyes, and during a sweet
doze heard the clatter of Emerenzia’s sharp voice.

The abbé went with the countess into her private
sitting-room. She sat upon the sofa, her eyes on the
ground, waiting with much inward trepidation to hear
what sentence so exalted a personage would pronounce
upon the demoniacal possession. As he did not speak,
she in a timid voice began—

“Has my confessor told you the terrible secret of
the castle ?”

“ He has told me all that he knows.”

“And what view would the authorities of the Church
take, do you think?”

“‘My individual opinion, countess, is that the whole
thing is a conspiracy of the living.”

“Of the living!” repeated the countess. “And my
visions ?”

“Those can be explained by psychological means.
You are of a susceptible, nervous temperament; your
senses are made acquainted with the first portion of
the history, your imagination works out the remainder.
Your dreams, countess, are hallucinations, nothing else.
Visible ghosts do not exist ; those who are dead cannot
live and move, for the reason that their organic powers
are at an end.”

THE EXORCIST 99

The countess shook her head incredulously. To say
the truth, she was ill-pleased. She had expected from
so high and intellectual an ecclesiastic a very different
explanation. If he could only tell us this, it was, indeed,
lost trouble to send so far for him.

Herr Samuel was quick enough to read in her face
what was passing in her mind, and hastened to apply
a radical cure.

“Countess, I know you doubt what I say, because you
have firm faith in what your eyes have seen, your ears
have heard. You are quite convinced that you yourself
have been many times in the haunted vault, and have
there seen the spirits of your departed ancestors.” ©»

“Only last night,” whispered the countess, in an awed
voice, “the tumult was fearful. They told me they would
come again to-night, that they would expect me.”

“ And have you promised to go to them?”

“When day comes I shudder from the idea, but at
night some strange, mysterious power draws me to the
vault ; I know all fear will vanish, and I shall not be
able to stay away.”

“Very good. Then to-night I shall go with you to
the vault of your ancestors.”

At these words a sudden flush covered the pale face
of the countess. The living portrait! She should go
with him—where? Perhaps into hell. She trembled
at the thought; then with a violent effort recovered her
composure, and said, in a hesitating manner—

“T do not know. Ido not think it would be possible.
I should have to let my household into the secret.”

The abbé understood the nature of the question, and
all the consequences it involved.

“That would not be necessary. On the contrary,
your household must know nothing of my visit,”

100 BLACK DIAMONDS

The countess looked at him. She was puzzled, agi-
tated. What could he mean? He could not imagime for a
moment that he was to spend the night with her—alone?

The abbé read her thought and answered quietly—

“T shall go away now with Pastor Mahok. I shall
return about midnight, and will knock at your door to
announce my arrival.”

Theudelinde shook her head. ‘“ That is impossible.
In winter every door in my house is locked by seven
o'clock. To reach my suite of rooms, you should pass
through no less than seven doors. First the castle door.
This is watched by my portress, an old woman who
never sleeps; besides, two monstrous bloodhounds keep
guard there. They are chained to the door with long
chains; they would eat you if you tried to pass. Then
comes the door of the corridor, to which there are two
locks; my companion keeps the key of one, my house-
keeper the key of the other, and to open it you must
awake both. The third is the door to the staircase; the
cook has the key under her pillow, and she sleeps so
soundly, and the whole house is astir before she moves.
The fourth is the entrance to the secret lattice passage;
this is in the keeping of the housemaid, a nervous girl,
who, when it grows dark, would not go into the next
room. The fifth door leads to the chamber of my own
maid, a very modest young person, who would not open
the door to a man were he prophet or saint. The sixth
door is that of Fraulein Emerenzia, my companion; she
falls into violent hysterics if at night any one turns the
handle of her door. The seventh and last door is that
of my dressing-room, which is fitted with a peculiar Self-
acting lock, a new invention. I ask your reverence if,
under such conditions, you could make your way here at
midnight ?”

THE EXORCIST Ior

“Permit me, in my turn, to put a question to you.
You have given me to understand that you descend con-
stantly to the vault of your ancestors. How does it
happen that you pass through all these well-guarded
doors?”

Over the countenance of the countess a triumphant
smile passed. The superstitious woman could repel the
attack of the scientist.

“Oh, I do not pass through any of them! From my
bedroom a secret staircase leads to the chapel vault. I
go down this staircase.”

It would have been only natural that the abbé on
hearing this should have proposed to conceal himself in
the library, and there await the countess. But he read
the character of his hostess and knew that such a pro-
posal would have shocked her prudish mind and have
offended her so deeply that, in all probability, she would
have refused to listen any further. She required the
most delicate management ; this the quick-seeing abbé
recognized perfectly.

“T am still of the same mind,” he said, calmly. “I
shall knock at your door this night at twelve o’clock.”

At these words the countess was seized with a ner-
vous shudder, but the abbé went on without taking any
notice—

“If you believe that there are unearthly beings who
are possessed of mysterious powers by which they pass
through locked doors and make themselves visible to
some human beings, invisible to others, then why should
I not have this power also? But you imagine that be-
cause I am only a man born of dust I cannot infringe
the laws of nature. Let me remind you that there is a
natural explanation for all that may seem to you incom-
prehensible. Witchcraft is now no longer a mystery.

102 BLACK DIAMONDS

We do not now burn Boscos and Galuches upon funeral
piles.. Do not for a moment think that I am a Bosco or
a Paracelsus. I repeat that what I promise I will per-
form; at the same hour at which the ghosts begin their
orgies will I knock at your door with the words, Jz
nomine Domini aperientur porte fidelium— In the name
of the Lord may the doors of the faithful be opened.’
Remember, no one but us two is to know anything of
my coming to-night. ‘Till then may the blessing of God
be with you.” :

Theudelinde was much impressed by her strange vis-
itor. His confidence infused courage into her weak
mind, while his masterful ways influenced her like a
spell. He addressed her from such a superior height
that she felt it would be almost desecration not to place
the utmost faith in his promises, and, nevertheless, he
had promised to perform an impossible thing. How
could she reconcile the two, unless, indeed, she had to
do with a being of another world? She saw from the
window the carriage drive away with the two clergymen.
She watched them get in; she remained at her post
until the carriage returned empty.

The female Jehu showed to the other servants the
pourboire she had received; it was a new silver piece.
It passed from hand to hand. What a miracle! Of
the fifteen million inhabitants of Hungary, fourteen mill-
ion five hundred thousand had never seen such a thing
as a silver piece of money. ‘There was a clergyman for
you, of a very different pattern from that other, who
gave, every Sunday, a fourpenny piece wrapped care-
fully in’a piece of paper, to be divided among the wait-
resses !

The time passed slowly to the countess; the clock
seemed to go with leaden weights. She wandered

tik &xORCisT 103

through all the rooms, her mind revolving in what pos-
sible manner, by what possible entrance a man could
find his way into the castle. When it had struck seven
o’clock she saw herself that every door which communi-
cated with her wing was carefully locked; then she sat
herself down in her own room. She took out the plan
of the castle, which had been prepared by the Floren-
tine artist who had built it. It was not the first time
she had studied it; when she had received the castle
as a present from her father, she had made herself mis-
tress of every particular concerning it. The building
was three times larger than her income could afford to
maintain. She had, therefore, to choose which wing
she would occupy. In the centre there were fine re-
ception-rooms, a banqueting-hall, an armory, and a
museum for pictures and curiosities. This portion was
out of the question. Also, from this portion of the
castle a concealed staircase led to a subterranean pas-
sage. This could be used as a means of escape, and
had no doubt served such a purpose when the old castle
had been besieged by the Turks. The grandfather of
the countess had walled up these steps, and no one
could now get into the secret passage. The left wing,
which was similarly constructed to the one which the
countess inhabited, had served as a sort of pleasure
residence to her pleasure-loving ancestors. There were
all manner of secret holes and corners in it, communi-
cations of all kinds connecting the rooms, doors behind
pictures, concealed alcoves, and the like. The archi-
tect’s plan showed these without any reticence. Theude-
linde naturally turned away in horror from the idea of
inhabiting this tainted wing, so full of sinful associa-
tions; she set up her Lares and Penates in the less
handsome, but more homely, right wing, where were a

104 BLACK DIAMONDS

few good rooms fitted for domestic life, an excellent
library, and the family vault below. It contained no
other secret staircase than the one which led to the
tombs of the departed members of the family. For the
rest, Countess Theudelinde had taken care to wall up
all the passages which led to either the centre or left
wing of the castle, and there was no means of commu-
nication between them and her apartments. All the
chimneys had iron gates to shut off any possible en-
trance that way; every window was provided with strong
iron bars. It would have been impossible for even a
cat to effect an entrance into this enchanted castle.

The countess, meditating on all these precautions,
came to the conclusion that there was only one way
by which the Abbé Samuel could introduce himself into
the house, and that was by a secret understanding with
some one of her household. But again, setting alto-
gether aside the high character borne by the priest,
which would render such an act upon his part improb-
able, the very nature of the circumstances attending his
visit made it impossible. He had never been absent
from the countess for a minute, except during his short
walk to the carriage, and then Herr Mahok had been
his companion. ‘Theudelinde, therefore, dismissed the
idea from her mind. She sent her household early to
bed ; she complained to Fraulein Emerenzia of suffering
from pains on one side of her head. Immediately that
sympathetic companion complained of pains on the oth-
er side of her head. When the countess thought she
would try to sleep, Emerenzia felt the like desire; she
wrapped her whole head up in warm cotton wool, and
snored without mercy.

Theudelinde shut herself up in ine bedroom and
counted the minutes. She tried to play Patience, but

THE EXORCIST Tos

the cards would not come right; her mind was too
much disturbed. She took out her Bible, splendidly
illustrated by Doré. She looked at all the pictures;
she counted the figures of the different men and women
upon those two hundred and thirty large plates; then
the horses and the camels, till she came to the scenes
of murders. Then she tried to pass the time by read-
ing the text. She counted which letter of the alphabet
was repeated the most frequently upon one side of the
page. For the greater part the letter @ was the favorite,
e came next, then 9, also ~ ; 7 was the worst represented.
This was in the French print. In the Hungarian text e
had the majority, then a, 0, and z, and, last of all, 4 and
uw. But of this she also wearied. ‘Then she sat down
to the piano, and tried to calm her agitation by playing
dreamy fantasias ; neither did this succeed. Her hands
trembled, and she could not sustain herself at the in- ©
strument, she was so wearied ; and as the fatal hour of
midnight drew nearer she gave up making efforts to dis-
tract her mind, and abandoned herself to thoughts of
the impending ghostly tumult. She found herself alto-
gether under the influence of her ancestral spectres, for
she was always consumed with ennui until the noise
began. ‘Then a sort of fever would come to her; she
would undress herself, crawl into bed, draw the cover-
ings over her head until she broke into a perspiration,
and then fall into a deep sleep. The next morning,
when she awoke, she really believed that she had wit-
nessed the scenes of which she had only dreamed.

This night she drew forth her talisman, the photo-
graph of the abbé, and tried to find some strength by
considering it. She placed it before her on the reading-
desk and sat gazing at it. Was he really a superior
being, at whose command the doors of the castle would

106 BLACK DIAMONDS

fly open, spectres would vanish, and the gates of hell
would close upon them? It could not be that such
things would happen. The more the night advanced
the greater grew her nervous fears. Her heart beat
loudly. It was not so much the nightly ghosts that she
dreaded, but this new and equally unearthly visitor.
What was he? A wizard, an enchanter like Merlin of
old, or a saint come to exorcise and banish her tor-
mentors?

The weary lagging hours went by, until at last the
pendulum of the old clock began to vibrate, and its
iron tongue gave out midnight. The countess counted
every stroke. Its vibration had hardly ceased when,
punctual to its usual time, the infernal noise began ;
from the vault below the tones of the mass reached
Theudelinde’s ears. She was, however, listening for an-
other sound, listening with feverish anxiety to catch a
stealthy footfall in the adjoining room, to hear the rattle
of a key surreptitiously moving in the lock. Nothing!
She came to the door, and, putting her head to the key-
hole, strained her ears in vain. All was still. It was
now a quarter past midnight; the tumult in the vault
below was in full swing—the witches’ Sabbath, as it
might be called, with its yells, shouts, songs, prayers ;
it was as if all the devils of hell had given one another
rendezvous in the company of the countess’s ancestors.

“He will not come,” she thought, and trembled in
every limb of her fever-stricken body. It was folly to
expect it. How could a man accomplish what is only
permitted to spirits ?

She retired to the alcove and prepared to lie down.
At this moment she heard a tap at the door of her sit-
ting-room, and, after a moment, a low voice spoke in
firm tones—

THE EXORCIST toy

“Tn nomine Domini aperientur porte fidelium.”

It was the signal given by the abbé. Theudelinde
gave a shriek; she nearly lost her senses from fright,
but gathered herself together with a supreme effort. It
was real; no hallucination, no dream! He was at the
door, her deliverer. Forward! |

The countess ran to the door and opened it. The
crisis gave her unusual strength. This might be a trap,
and instead of a deliverer she might find herself opposite
to arobber or murderer. Under the carpet lay con-
cealed the trap-door; the midnight visitor stood on the
very spot. One pressure of the secret spring and down
he went into the abyss below. Theudelinde had her
foot on the spring as she undid the door.

There stood the abbé before her. No appearance of
his clerical calling was to be seen. He wore a long
coat, which reached to his feet, and carried neither bell,
book, nor candle, wherewith to exorcise the spirits. In
his right hand he held a thick stick made of rhinoceros’
skin, and in the left a dark lantern.

“ Remain where you are,” said the countess, in a com-
manding voice. “ Before you set foot in this room you
shall tell me how you got here. Was it with the help of
God, of man, or of the devil ?”

“ Countess,” returned the abbé, “look about you. Do
you not see that every door in your castle stands open?
Through these open doors I have passed easily.. How
I passed through the court is another thing. I will tell
you that later.”

“ And my household, who sleep in those rooms ?” said
the countess, in an incredulous voice. :

“The curtains hang round every bed; I have not
raised them. If your household be asleep, they will no
doubt sleep as the just do, without waking.”

108 BLACK DIAMONDS

The countess listened, only half believing what she
heard; she was growing nerveless again. She led the
abbé into the sitting-room, and sank exhausted upon the
sofa.

The tumult in the vault was indescribable.

“Do you hear 7¢?” she said, in a whisper.

‘“‘T do hear, and I know whence it comes. I am here
to face those who cause this unseemly riot.”

“Have you the weapons that Holy Church has pro-
vided for such a task ?” asked Theudelinde, anxiously.

The priest for all answer held towards her the strong
staff he carried.

‘“‘T have this good stick, countess.”

“ Do you hear above all the tumult that strident voice?
It is my uncle Ladislaus,” cried the countess, grasping
the abbé’s arm with both her hands. ‘“ Do you hear that
horrible laugh? It is my uncle’s laugh.”

““We will soon learn the author of that unpleasant
cachinnation,” remarked the priest, quietly.

‘* Why, what do you propose to do?”

“T shall go down and join: the worshipful society be-
low.”

“ You will descend into the vault? What to do?”

“To pass judgment upon that unruly gang, countess.
You promised to accompany me.”

“T promised!” and Theudelinde retreated from him,
her eyes staring wildly, her hands pressed to her breast.

“It was your own wish.”

“True, true! I am so confused; my thoughts are all
astray. I cannot recollect them. You here, and that
fearful noise below! I am terribly afraid.”

“How? You who had the courage to go among the
ghosts by yourself, are you afraid now that 7 am with
you? Give me your hand.”

THE EXORCIST 109

The countess placed her trembling fingers in the
abbé’s hand, and as she felt the firm, manly clasp, an
unusual sense of strength and protection possessed her ;
she ceased to shake and shiver, her eyes no longer saw
shapes and fantasies moving before them; her heart be-
gan to beat steadily. The bare touch of this man's
hand gave her new life.

“Come with me,” he said, in a decided voice, while he
stuck his whip under his left arm, and with the right
drew the countess after him. “Where are the keys of
the secret staircase, and of the room through which we
must pass ?”

Theudelinde felt that she could not let go his hand
for one minute. She was for the moment, so to speak,
mesmerized by his superior mind. She crawled after
him submissively ; she should follow him, were it to the
very gates of hell itself. Without a word she pointed to
the key cabinet, an antique piece of furniture which
would have made the joy of a bric-a-brac collector, and
in which there was a drawer full of keys.

Without a moment’s hesitation the priest put his hand
on the ones that were wanted. It was no miracle that
he should do so, although to the weakened mind of his
companion it appeared to be miraculous; on one of the
keys there was the well-known sign of a vault key, the
crucifix.

The abbé now drew aside the curtain which concealed
the secret passage to the library, and here, at the first
step, he was met by a certain proof, if such were want-
ing, to show him the credit to be given to the countess’s
statements that she was in the habit of descending to
the vault: as he opened the door a mass of cobwebs
blew into his face. The countess, however, was firm in
her hallucination. It is a phase of such nervous dis-

110 BLACK DIAMONDS

orders as hets to believe that what they have dreamed
is actual fact; they can even supply small details.

As the countess went up the steps she whispered to
her companion—

“A window is broken here, and the wind whistles
through it.” And as they turned the angle of the steps
there was a narrow slip-window which in the daytime
gave light to the staircase, the panes of which were actu-
ally broken. She had never seen this. When they came
to the door of the library she confided to the abbé that
she was always frightened to pass the threshold.

“Tt is such a ghostly place!” she said. ‘‘When the
moon shines through the shutter of the upper window
it throws white specks upon the mosaic pattern of the
marble floor, which makes it look like some mysterious
writing. In one of the corners between two presses
there is a glass case with a skeleton in it; in another
case the wax impression, taken after death, of Ignatius
~ Loyola.”

Everything was precisely as the countess related.
The moon shone through the upper panes of glass, the
skeleton stood in his glass case, the waxen head of the
dead saint lay in the other, but the countess had never
crossed the threshold. In her childhood her nurse had
told her these tales of the Bondavara Castle, and when
she had become its mistress her first care had been to
lock these rooms. ‘Ten years’ dust lay on the carpets,
on the chairs and tables; cobwebs hung from the ceil-
ings, mice played games in the deep wainscots, for no
one ever came here.

At the moment in which the countess and her com-
panion entered the library a certain peace reigned in the
vault below. The tumult seemed lulled; there were
neither shrieks nor demoniacal songs to be heard. From

——

‘THE EXORCIST Itt

the mortuary chapel, however, the notes of the organ
reached the ears of the two listeners. It sounded like
the prelude which is played in church before mass be-
gins, only the chords of the prelude were all discords ;
it was as if the organ were played by a condemned spirit.

The countess stood before the chapel door, her breast
heaving with emotion. She caught hold of the abbé’s
hand with a strong grasp, and kept him from turning
the key in the lock. She trembled in every limb.

“ What are those fearful tones ?”

Then came a confused sound, as of many voices in-
toning the vespers. One voice, which imitated the mo-
notonous delivery of the celebrant, began to sing in
Latin the words of a hymn—

‘* Bacchus, prepare the libation.”

Another voice answered in the same tone—

‘* And hasten, brethren, to drink !”

Then a third took up the text in a parody of the
Gloria—

“Gloria Baccho, et filiz ejus Cerevisize et Spiritui -
vini, sicut erat in Baccho natus, et nunc, et semper, et
per omnia pocula poculorum. Stramen.”

The countess felt her whole body turning into ice;
fear mingled with horror, She understood the impious
parody.

Now the organ accompanied the antiphon.

“Date nobis de cerevisia vestra; quia sitiunt guttura
nostra’’—“ Give us of your beer; our throats are dry.”

Then followed the psalm—

“ Brother to brother spoke these words: shall two
goblets of beer quench man’s thirst?”

I12 BLACK DIAMONDS

“Two, three, five, six are not enough for man’s satiety.”

“Blessed be Bacchus, who gave us beer.”

Then followed the Capitulum.

“ Brethren, attend, and do as I command ye. Before
ye leave the ale-house for your own homes empty all the
pots, leave not a drop therein, but tilt them and drain
every drop of wine. This do from goblet to goblet.
Stramen.”

The countess felt, as she listened to this profanity,
what a damned soul must experience when for the first
time it consorts with devils. But now a hellish chorus
broke forth of men’s and women’s voices, yelling out a
parody of a hymn—

‘** Bacchus, who gave us drink,
Art thou not called the god of liquor?
Grant us all the holy grace,
Strength to drink in every place,
So that, drinking everywhere,
We for glory may prepare
In thy everlasting wine-cellar.”

This was followed by the ringing of the bell, and the
priest’s voice intoned the blessing.

“ Bacchus be with you.’

The chorus answered, “ And with thy pint-pots.”

Then came the Oratio—

“Let us eat. O all-powerful Bacchus, since thou hast
created this society of ours for thine own honor, grant to
us its continuance, and give to usa constant supply of
brave topers, who never may cease drinking from goblet
to goblet.”

And the chorus answered, “ Stramen.”

The countess was not able any longer to hold herself
up. She sank upon her knees, and looked up at the

THE EXORCIST 113

priest in mute horror. Hardly knowing what she did,
she gazed in utter despair at the tall figure lit up as it
was by the rays of the moon, which played round his
head like a halo.

The abbé put the key into the lock of the chapel door.
The countess caught his hand ; her fright amounted to
agony.

“Do not—do not open it!” she cried. “ Inside is hell
let loose.”

With an elevation of his head, the abbé answered
proudly—

“ Nec portz inferi—the gates of hell shall not prevail” ;
and then he turned the key, and the heavy iron door swung
open, and disclosed the actors in the strange drama.

On the altar all the candles were lighted, and their
light showed with distinctness every incident of the per-
formance, every feature in the faces of the performers.

What a scene!

On one side of the vault ran a long table, round which
was seated, eating and drinking, not the countess’s an-
cestors and ancestresses, but all the servants of her
household. The maids, who were so strictly guarded,
were here in the company of the men who were so rigor-
ously excluded. The countess could, therefore, see that
these were flesh-and-blood ghosts which had so long
haunted her ancient castle. Each of her handmaidens
had a lover in either the steward, bailiff, gamekeeper, or
clerk in the neighborhood. The nervous housemaid, who
at night was afraid of her own shadow, was now drinking
out of the glass of the innkeeper; the virtuous maid was
embraced by the mayor’s footman; the portress, an el-
derly virgin, held a jug in her hand, while she executed
a clog-dance upon the table. All the rest clapped hands,
shrieked, sang at the top of their voices, and beat the

®

ti4 BLACK DIAMONDS

table as if it wete a big drum. The shepherd, who rep:
resented the countess’s grandfather, sat upon the monu-
ment of the chancellor, his legs round the cross, and
played the bagpipes. It was this instrument which at
the burlesque of vespers imitated the harmonium. Upon
the gravestone of the first archbishop the beer-barrel was
set up. The maids were all dressed in the countess’s silk
dresses, with the exception of the female coachman, who,
as usual, wore man’s clothes, but by way of symmetry
her lover, the coachman of the neighboring brewery, was
dressed in woman’s clothes. The countess recognized
on the head of this bearded fellow her nightcap, and
round his body her cloak, trimmed with her best lace.
Worst of all, at the top of the table sat Fraulein Emer-
enzia, on very intimate terms with her neighbor, a young
lawyer. She wore the skirt of a favorite dress of Theu-
delinde’s, a flame-colored brocade ; the body could not fit
her corpulent form, so she had her mistress’s best lace
shawl wrapped round her. Her face was red; she hada
large tumbler of wine before her, and she smoked a pipe.
The modest Emerenzia !

The men were all drunk and noisy, the women screamed
in an unearthly manner; the bagpipes squealed; the
table resounded with thumps and the clatter of the por-
tress’s clogs. From the altar came the voice of the
mock priest, his arms outstretched in blessing. Through
the din the words ‘“‘ Bacchus vobiscum” were heard, and
the tinkle of the bell. This mock priest was no other
than Michael the sacristan, who brought all the church
ornaments confided to his care. He wore the pastor’s
vestments, and on his head an improvised skull-cap. The
acolyte was the parish bell-ringer.

The countess was cut to the heart. The terrible in-
gratitude, especially of these girls, to whom she had

THE EXORCIST Its

been as a mother—more anxious indeed than their own
mothers to keep them pure and innocent—wounded the
poor lady who had taught them to sing hymns on Sun-
day, had fed them from her own table, and had never
allowed them to read a novel or hear a bad word. And
this was the outcome of her efforts. They insulted the
graves of her ancestors, played upon her nervous fears,
destroyed her rest, nearly drove her mad with their
ghostly noises, wore her clothes at their orgies, and,
worse insult of all, she, a high-born lady and a pure
woman, had the degradation of wearing these same gar-
ments, defiled as they were with the smell of wine and
stale tobacco.

Bitter as such ingratitude was, it counted as nothing
in comparison with the profanation of using the holiest
things of religion, the sacred ornaments of the Church,
to carry out these impious rites. “Woe to them from
whom scandal cometh,” says the Scripture, and this woe
means pain and suffering that no soothing balsam can
alleviate.

A mortal terror still filled the countess’s heart. She
was in the presence of those who had no control over
their already besotted senses. If these drunken savages,
these unsexed women, found their revels were discov-
ered, what was to hinder them tearing her to pieces?
There was only one man between her and them. Theu-
delinde looked at her solitary protector. His eyes
gleamed with such apostolic anger that her timid soul
grew fearful of the consequences, both to him and to
herself, of his just wrath. She seized both his hands,
to hold him from venturing among such demons. ‘The
abbé easily freed himself from the clasp of her weak
fingers. In one bound he sprang down the steps, fell
upon the false priest as he was in the act of pronouncing

116 BLACK DIAMONDS

his final stramen ; with the butt-end of his rhinoceros
whip he gave him two blows.

What the countess now witnessed was truly no vision.
She saw how one man, armed with no more formidable
weapon than a horsewhip, ventured into the midst of
the hellish assembly, with one hand seized the table and
overturned it and all that was on it of dishes, glasses,
and wine-cups, with the other cracked his whip in the
faces of the guests, who sprang to their feet in all the
terror of detection, like to the profaners of the Temple.
They were driven towards the door of the vault, the
abbé’s whip descending on their shoulders with impar-
tial justice. They went tumbling over one another,
howling and screaming, pressing onwards and pursued
by the flagellation of the abbé. The bagpipe player in
his haste missed his footing, those behind stumbled over
him, and so lay all in a heap together. Not one went
without carrying a remembrance of the abbé’s strong
arm, for he spared no one. No effort was made at re-
prisals ; the criminal who is caught seldom shows fight.
These last were, moreover, taken by surprise, and the
clergyman was possessed of extraordinary strength; one
man who tried to drag the horsewhip from his hand was
dealt such a blow in his face that he was glad to relin-
quish his hold and take to his heels without loss of time.

“Give it to them! give it to them!” cried the countess,
who had no pity for her former servants, who had to
pass her as they made their way pell-mell to the door.
Emerenzia covered her head, not from shame, but fear-
ing her face might get a blow. Almost the last was the
sacristan, whose clerical dress hindered his speed, and
whose back was so battered by the abbé that the vest-
ment he wore hung in ribbons.

After the last guest had departed, the abbé frie

Se ee Ctr

ee———— eee SCS

THE EXORCIST Ii7

‘the heavy door of the vault and returned to where the

countess was standing. His face wore an almost glori-
fied expression; it was the consciousness of having
asserted his strength. As he approached the countess
fell on her knees, and made as if she would kiss his
feet, but the abbé raised her.

“Compose yourself, countess. Your present situation
needs all your strength. Do you know that at this mo-
ment there are only two persons in this castle, for I have
locked the door which leads to the court-yard. This
folly is played out. You see now that no wicked spirit
had any part in it. It was no ghost, only human beings
who have had to do with this miserable business.”

“What shall I do?” asked the countess, constraining
herself to speak calmly.

“Take my lantern. I am going to lock the lattice
door, so as to stop any entrance from this side. But
you can return by the way we came, back to your own
apartment, where I advise you to make yourself some
tea; you are freezing with cold.”

“Must I go back all that way alone?”

“Remember the words, ‘If God is with me, who is
against me,’ and you can never bealone. Tosee ghosts
is an illness; the method of curing it must be heroic.”

And as he saw that the countess, in spite of her
efforts, could not subdue her nervous tremor, he took
her by the hand, and, returning with her to the library,
led her to the glass case which enclosed the skeleton,
and opened the door.

“Were you afraid of this? Why, it is nothing to fear.
It is a standing proof of the wisdom of God. Every
limb of this wonderful collection of bones tells us the
Almighty created man to be ruler of the earth. Look
at the skull; upon this arched forehead is written the

118 BLACK DIAMONDS

birthright of humanity, in every corner and line of the:
face the superiority of the white race over all others.
This skull teaches us how deep should be our gratitude
to an all-seeing Providence who has created us the su-
perior over all other beings on the earth. The sight of
a skull should cause no shudder in the breast of man;
it should give rise to feelings of thankfulness and rever-
ence, for it is the symbol of the great love which our
Heavenly Maker has for the creature He has made and
chosen from all eternity.”

As he spoke the priest laid Theudelinde’s cold hand
upon the skull of the skeleton. The countess trembled
no more. New life and strength born of the words of
this singular man seemed to infuse themselves into her
veins. She looked another being.

“Now go to your room,” said the abbé. “TI shall
soon follow, but I must first put out the torches on the
altar. We must not have a conflagration on our
hands.” |

“T am quite ready to go alone,” returned the count-
ess. ‘My foolish fears are cured, but I am now cor.-
cerned for you. Perhaps those wretched servants of
mine are still about, and if you venture into the vault in
the dark they may fall upon you and take their revenge
for being discovered.”

“Oh, I am provided with what would soca scatter
such cowards as they are,” said the abbé, drawing a re-
volver from a secret pocket. “I had resolved to use
stringent measures with them if necessary. Now, in
God’s name, retire to your room, countess.”

Theudelinde, without another word, took the lantern |
and went through the long library. The priest watched
her until she had crossed the passage, and had opened
the door of her own apartment, He then hastened back

THE EXORCIST i19

to the vault. In the passage he saw a blue flame burn-
ing on a tin dish.

“Alcohol and ammonia mixed together,’ murmured
the priest. “This is what frightened Herr Mahok.”
Close to it lay the winding-sheet and mask. The abbé
pushed the vessel with the flame into the corner, for he
knew that in an encounter with an adversary it would
be little profit to have an illumination, and then he went
down the dark passage carefully. No one was there;
they had all run away, and were probably running still.
The lattice door stood open; he drew it to, and barred
it carefully ; then he returned into the vault and locked
it also, having first extinguished the lights, with the ex-
ception of one, which he took to light him back to the
countess’s room. :

He found her sitting composedly before the tea equi-
page. She had obeyed him. As he entered the room
she rose, and, folding her hands upon her breast, cried :

“ Most holy saint and apostle !”

“You must not give me such exalted titles,” said the
abbé, smiling. ‘‘ What I have done does not merit such
high-sounding terms. I have accomplished no miracle,
for I had to do with mortals only. One circumstance
which appears to you in a miraculous light is easily ex-
plained. I allude to my entering a house wherein all
the doors were locked. But first, will you pour out the
tea ?—and if you will give me a cup I shall be grateful,
for the occurrences of the last hour have somewhat ex-
cited me. Then we will talk the whole affair over.”

The countess gave her guest his tea, then sank back
in her arm-chair, and wrapped herself in her cloak ; she
was still shivering.

“That the supposed ghostly appearances and noises
were in no sense supernatural was borne in on me,”

120 BLACK DIAMONDS

continued the abbé, as he sipped his tea, ‘‘ from the first
moment Herr Mahok took me into his confidence. I
was convinced that the nocturnal disturbance was the
work of your own household, and it served their purpose
to make it as ghost-like as possible. The situation had
been created by your over-caution, countess. Your
women servants were not allowed to hold communica-
tion with the opposite sex ; they, therefore, found other
means to meet, and to give a cover to these illicit meetings
they set up an atmosphere of ghostly mystery, by which
their goings-on were well concealed. The conspiracy
was perfectly carried out. If they had conducted their
sinful intercourse on any other lines you would have
long since discovered them. When the pastor told me
that he and his sacristan had escaped through the lattice
door, I suspected that it was through this door the men
found their way into the vault, and that the sacristan
must be a participator in the plot, whatever it was.
Moreover, I calculated that the women must, of neces-
sity, find their way through the cellar passage, and
that, therefore, they would naturally leave every door in
the house ofen, so that their return might be conducted
without any danger of awaking you by noise, such as
unlocking doors. The countenance, the coloring, the
eyes of your companion betray her; it is easy to see
what she has been, and that, moreover, she drinks. I
knew to-day at dinner that she was a hypocrite. She
held forth against all alcoholic drinks; that settled her
- with me. I had no doubt that I should find all the
doors open; and I did. In order to make no noise I
came on foot to the garden door. Countless footsteps
in the fresh snow showed me that the company had al-
ready assembled. From the open garden door the foot-
prints led to the lattice door, and thence to the vault.

THE EXORCIST 121

This door was put to. I pushed it open and was in the
passage. I went to the left, up the steps to the cellar
passage ; the door was open. I could not count upon
finding every door open; it was exactly as I imagined.
The only difficulty lay in passing through your wardrobe-
room, which has no key, but a peculiarly constructed
spring-lock. I felt certain that your maids would borrow
some of their mistress’s silk dresses, and therefore the
spring-lock would be arranged so as not to betray by its
loud snap the return of the stolen garments to their
proper place. On looking closely I found this to be the
case ; the lock was kept in its place by the insertion of
a penknife, which could be easily withdrawn. There-
fore, countess, you have, night after night, slept in this
castle with every door open—in real danger—at the
mercy of robbers, or even murderers; all the time
frightened to death with ghostly noises, which kept
you a prisoner to your room, not venturing to call your
treacherous servants. Countess, you have been terribly
punished.”

“ Punished !” stammered the countess, her face grow-
ing even paler.

“Yes, punished; for you have richly deserved to
suffer.”

Theudelinde fixed a horrified look on the abbé.

“Countess, at your door,” said the priest, sternly,
“lies the heaviest portion of the sins into which your
servants have fallen. You have, in fact, driven them
into vice. Your eccentric rules, bizarre and ridiculous
ideas, made your women servants liars and induced their
irregularities. Nature punishes those who revolt against
her, and the long years during which you have isolated
yourself from the world and from society have been flat
rebellion, which has brought its own punishment. You

122 BLACK DIAMONDS

now stand before two judges, Heaven and the World ;
Heaven is ready to punish you, the world to laugh at
you ; and the wrath of Heaven and the ridicule of the
world is equally hard to bear. How do you mean to
protect yourself against both ?”

The countess sank back annihilated. Only just re-
covered from the anxieties, horrors, and dangers of this
dreadful night, she was not able to face the denuncia-
tions of the priest, which were, in fact, only the echo of
her own conscience. The torture was greater than all
she had undergone. There was silence in the room,
during which the words rang in Theudelinde’s ears like
the tolling of a bell.

“ How shall you face the anger of Heaven and the
ridicule of the world ?”

At last she thought of a way out of the difficulty, and,
raising her head, she said, in a low voice:

“T will hide my miserable head ina convent. There
the ridicule of the world will not reach me; there, kneel-
ing before the altar, I will day and night pray to God to
pardon my fault. You, oh most reverend father, will per-
haps use your influence with the abbess of some convent
—I should prefer the very strictest order—and get me
admitted. There I shall find a living grave, and no one
will ever hear my name. I shall leave this castle, and
all my fortune, together with my savings of the last few
years, to your order, with only one condition, that every
night at twelve o’clock vespers shall be sung in the fam-
ily vault, which has been desecrated by such abomina-
tions as have been practised there.”

The countess’s voice, which was low and broken in
the beginning, gathered strength as she made this re-
nunciation of her worldly goods.

The abbé rose up as she finished, and took her trem-

THE EXORCIST 123

bling hand in his, while, with a haughty elevation of his
head, he answered :

“That everything may be quite clear, I beg you will
understand, countess, that neither I nor my order need,
nor would accept, the donation of your castle, your prop-
erty, or your money. It is not our custom to take ad-
vantage of weak-minded persons in a moment of contri-
tion, and to extort from them compensation for their sins
in the shape of their worldly goods. We have no desire
to acquire property in so sneaking and contemptible a
manner, and therefore, countess, in the name of my or-
der, I decline to spend the night singing vespers in
your family vault, or the day in living on your fortune.
This idea you may dismiss altogether from your
mind.”

These words filled the countess with admiration. She
had already felt herself singularly attracted by this man.
This proof of his disinterestedness and indifference to
worldly considerations completed his dominion over her
mind, and subjugated her to his authority. She listened
submissively while he continued his admonitions.

“For the rest,” he said, “I should recommend you to
abandon all ideas of conventual life, which is quite un-
suited to a person of your nervous, excitable nature.
You would find neither peace nor happiness; on the
contrary, you would be a prey to all manner of scruples
and disquieting thoughts. There are those who find a
refuge and salvation in a cloister; for you it would be a
foretaste of damnation, and in all probability you would
end like the hermit who fled from the world to pray to
God, and instead of praying, cursed Him.”

The eyes of the countess glared at this awful pros-
pect, but she murmured to herself, “ True, quite true !’’

“The recollection of your faults has banished you from

124 BLACK DIAMONDS

the Church and has robbed you of all power to pray,”
continued the priest, in a harsh voice.

“ True, quite true !” sobbed the countess, and beat her
breast. “I can never again enter a church, and I dare
not pray.” Then with a cry of despair she threw her.
self at the feet of the abbé, and with feverish strength
clasped both his hands, while she screamed out, “Where
' shall I go, if not to the Church of God? Who shall help
me, if I cannot pray to Him ?”

The clergyman saw it was necessary to soothe her
terrible excitement.

“Your proper refuge is in your own heart,” he said,
gently, “and your good deeds shall plead for you.”

Theudelinde pressed the priest’s hand to her burning
forehead. Then she rose from her kneeling position
and stretched out her arms.

“Command me. Advise me. What shall I do?”

“ Return to society, and take the place your rank and
wealth entitle you to hold.”

The countess fell back a step, and stared at the abbé,
her face all astonishment.

“Return to the world! JZ who left it five-and-twenty
years ago! I should be the laughing-stock of every
one were I to seek, at my age, pleasures which I long
ago renounced.”

“Countess, you have voluntarily thrown away that
portion of your life to which the world offers its best
gifts; but there still remains to you that other half,
wherein you can acquire the esteem of the world—that is,
if you avail yourself of the means necessary for success.”

“My father, remember that in that circle which you
wish me to enter I shall meet nothing but contempt and
humiliations. The present generation don’t know my
name, my contemporaries despise me.”

THE EXORCIST 125

“But there is a magic circle in which every one is
recognized and no one is despised. Would you wish to
enter this circle ?”’

“Place me in this circle, father. Where is it to be
found ?”

“JT will tell you, countess. Your nation is passing
through a crisis; it may be called the battle for intel-
lectual freedom. All are striving to place themselves on
a footing with the intellectuality of other nations—phi-
losophers, poets, industrials; men, women, boys, gray-
beards, magnates, and peasants. If they all knew how
to strive together they might attain their purpose, but all
are divided; each works for himself and by himself.
Individual effort is doomed to failure, but united, cer-
tain of success.”

‘The countess listened in breathless astonishment.
She did not understand where the abbé was leading
her.

“What is wanting in this tremendous struggle is a
centre. The country has no centre. Debreczyn is
thoroughly Hungarian, but its religious exclusiveness
has narrowed its sphere of influence. Szegedin is well
suited, but it is far too democratic. Klausenburg is in-
deed a Hungarian town. The aristocracy are to be
found there, and a certain amount of culture, but it lies
beyond the Kiralyhago, and the days of the Bethlens
and the Bocskais are over. Pesth would be the proper
centre; it has every qualification. I have been through
the five quarters of the globe, and nowhere have I found
such a place. In Pesth no man troubles himself about
his neighbor, and each man believes that the world is
made for him alone. The first look of the city takes
one by surprise; the fine embankment along the broad
Danube River, the beautiful squares and streets, with

126 BLACK DIAMONDS

the six-story tin houses, each in a different style of archi-
tecture. Side by side are palaces built in the Roman,
Moorish, Spanish, or Renaissance style, with, perhaps,
the occasional introduction of a quaint Dutch mansion
or Gothic structure. Opposite to the great edifice of
the chain bridge rises a large stone bandbox with four
towers ; this is called the Basilica, but it looks more
like a giant scaffold than anything else. On all sides
rage monster factory chimneys, which vomit forth vol-
umes of poisonous smoke upon the town. Factories,
docks, academical palaces, redoubts, tin card - houses,
art conservatories, are crowded one over the other.
The academy interferes with the business of the docks,
and the noise of the shipping-trade disturbs the acad-
emicians. The smoke of the steam - engines suffocates
every one; while the town-hall, with all its ornamented
peaks and minarets, says to the stranger, ‘Come nearer,
friend; this is Constantinople.’ ”

The countess could not help smiling over this graphic
description.

“The inner town,” continued the abbé, “is a laby-
rinth of narrow, irregular streets, which were built when
the site of the present town-hall was only a marsh for
the pigs to wallow in. In spite of the narrow propor-
tions, these streets contain some of the finest shops in
Europe. The contrasts are something wonderful ; the
finest equipages jammed against the overladen wagons
conveying merchandise; the most elegantly dressed
women jostling against beggars in rags. The prettiest
women are to be seen in this quarter, and this in face
of a wind that drives all the dust into the eyes. In the
suburbs houses are rising on all sides with marvellous
rapidity, little and big, in every style and variety, giving
more dust for the wind to play tricks with. The whole

THE EXORCIST 124

place is a stony wilderness, with here and there a small
green oasis not bigger than a private garden. Round
about the city lies a Sahara, the earth of which is con-
stantly dug up, so that the sirocco is never in want of
dust. This is the exterior appearance of Pesth, which
in itself presents the different features of a manufactur-
ing town, an emporium for trade, and a city of arts and
science, as well as those of the capital of an empire
and of an American colony, where men of all classes
assemble to make their pile of gold, but when this is
secured hurry away to spend their winnings in other
places.

“So far as social conditions are concerned, and these,
after all, concern us most,” said the abbé, with a quick
look at his listener, “they are as complicated as the
commercial interests of Pesth. Each class is surround-
ed, so to speak, with a Chinese wall. Trade and the
stock-exchange are altogether in the hands of Jews and
Germans. This would not be so much an evil were it
not that a great amount of fraudulent speculation goes
on, and at every turn of the money market in Vienna
the funds go down. The Hungarian element is made
up of tobacco-merchants and hand-workers; there are,
besides these, about twenty thousand Slavonians from
the hills, who are day-laborers. Pesth is, or should be,
the headquarters of national education. It is, however,
not the fashion to support it. It should be also the
centre of science and literature ; it is not, however, con-
sidered good ‘ton’ to cultivate anything but foreign
literature. Pesth can boast of very distinguished
savants, and of a very haughty aristocracy; but no one
is allowed to enter this magic circle but those who be-
long to the upper ten. The whole society is on a wrong
footing ; each one fights his own battle, bears his own

128 BLACK DIAMONDS

burden; the finest ideas are lost because no one under-
stands the other. A common standpoint is wanting.
All healthy life is dying out, full freedom of thought
and action being strangled by the iron laws of the
short-sighted government, which forbids discussion of
any kind.

“The Reichstag and the Comitatshaus are both
closed. The only free ground left is that of general ©
society; but here class prejudices step in. A certain
portion of our aristocracy are too indifferent to trouble
themselves to do anything for the general good; the
rest are too fond of their own ease and amusement;
they acknowledge no other aim in life but their own
pleasure. There are some, however, who do know what
their duty is, and who would willingly make sacrifices to
fulfil it, but during the last ten years they have suffered
such a loss of income that they are no longer in a posi-
tion to bear the expense which would be entailed by
opening their houses. There are others, those most
fitted by intellect as well as by position to be leaders.
Alas! they will never return to Pesth; it is to them full
of tragic memories, which haunt the houses where they
once lived, and which have banished forever the laugh
and jest from those walls. Therefore it is that we have
arrived at this position, that there is not a single centre
where the clever, the good, the nobleman, and the gen-
tleman can meet on equal terms; and without this no
real good can be done.”

“Then let me create this centre!’ cried the countess,
rising to her feet and addressing the abbé with an in-
spired look. Her whole being seemed changed by this
new thought, which had been skilfully suggested by the
words of the clergyman, who seemed well pleased at the
effect he had produced.

SS

THE ExoRCisT i29

“Then you understood,” he said; “and for you the
advantages will be incalculable. Here is the shelter you
require. If you come to Pesth, if you live there as befits
your rank and your fortune, you can assemble round you
the very cream of society. To your sa/on will come every
one, distinguished not alone by birth, but by talent—pol-
iticians, artists, poets, magnates, priests, prelates, and
laymen ; the aristocracy of the land and the aristocracy
of intellect shall be alike represented. Your mission
will be to further by this means the apostolate of truth,
of culture ; and, by so doing, to assist the progress and
development of your own nation, and for the rest your
own position will be most honorable. As hostess and
mistress of such you will be respected and admired.”

The countess seized the clergyman’s hand in both
hers, and covered it with kisses, while in her excitement
she sobbed :

“T thank you, I thank you, I thank you

“Do you not see, countess, that there is a vocation
for you besides that of conventual life ?”

“You are a prophet.”

“In the meantime, may I ask you a practical ques-
tion? For the task which you have undertaken with
such praiseworthy zeal there are certain material qual-
ifications absolutely necessary, the first being a sufficient
income. May I ask you to give me your confidence on
this delicate subject?”

“TI am rich,” answered Theudelinde. ‘I have my
capital at good interest. Likewise, out of my savings I
have bought a fine mansion situated in the best part of
Pesth ; it is at present let.”

“You will now take it into your own hands,” said the
abbé, “and have it properly appointed, suitable to your
rank. So far as your securities go, it may be better to

9

”

130 BLACK DIAMONDS

invest your capital differently. We shall see. How
much does your yearly income from the Bondavara estate
amount to?”

“ About twenty thousand florins.”

“ How large is the estate ?”

“From about nine to ten thousand acres.”

“Then the return is far too small. The agent is to
blame for this; this income would be too little to sup-
port the position you now intend to hold. Twenty thou-
sand florins would not be nearly enough to keep up an
establishment on a proper footing in Pesth.”

The countess was surprised. She said, humbly, “I
imagined it was a great deal of money.”

“So it is for living in the country; but Pesth is as
dear, if not dearer, than Paris. To keep a proper estab-
lishment going, and take the position of a leader of soci-
ety, such as it is your ambition to be, you must at least
command a yearly income of forty thousand florins.”

“But I cannot do that. What shall I do?” Theu-
delinde said, in great distress.

The abbé’s lips parted in a smile. “Oh, we will
manage it for you! For the rest it will not be difficult.
The rental of the estate must be overhauled; you must
get a better agent, a more’enterprising steward. I my-
self do not understand finance, but I have friends in the
inner circle of the stock-exchange, and one or other of
these will undertake to advise you as to your affairs
when you are settled in Pesth. In any case, I am quite
certain that your land is let too low, it should bring in
double the interest you get from it. I know so much of
political economy.”

The countess was delighted at these words. What a
friend to have! Her income to be doubled! Truly
this abbé was sent to her from heaven.

THE EXORCIST 131

“Do as you think best,” she said. “I give you full
power to act for me.”

“Then, if you will allow me, I shall have your prop-
erty revalued, and fresh leases made. This will double
your income, and it will only cost you a trifle—a factor’s
fee, in fact.”

Theudelinde was like a child in her joy—like a child
in her submission to her spiritual adviser, to whom she
looked up as a father, a counsellor, a true friend.

All this he might be; but it was also true that from
the date of this conversation the owner of Bondavara
lost her hold on her own property forever.

CHAPTER IX

‘aN OBSTINATE FELLOW”

CouNTESS THEUDELINDE was beside herself with joy.
She ran to her bell-apparatus, touched the spring, and
the machine put itself into motion.

“What are you doing, countess?” asked the abbé, in
some amazement.

“T am desiring my steward to be sent for at once.”

“ By what messenger ?”

And then for the first time the countess remembered
there was not a living soul in the house.

She grew very grave.

“Tt is truly a problem,” continued the priest, “ to
know how we are to get out of the castle.”

“What do you mean?” asked Theudelinde, who was
so weak-minded that she always required to have every-
thing explained to her.

“We two are quite alone in this house,” returned the
abbé. “If I go away to get the necessary assistance
for packing up your things and making the arrange-
ments for departure I must leave you alone here.”

“TI would not for all the world remain alone here.”

“Then you have the alternative of accompanying
me on foot to the nearest post-house in the adjacent
village.”

As he spoke the snow-storm was heard outside beat-
ing against the window, Theudelinde shivered.

“AN OBSTINATE FELLOW” 133

“Why cannot we drive? My horses are in the
stable.”

* But I can neither harness them nor drive them.”

“ Oh, I should never think of such a thing!”

Nevertheless, the countess had now to consider
whether she should remain alone in the castle or take
the alternative of accompanying the priest in a heavy
fall of snow.

“Somebody is knocking at the door,” said the abbé.

“Tt must be my steward,” returned Theudelinde.
“He has heard what has happened, and has come to
our assistance.”

* But there isno one to open the door. Your portress
was one of the ghosts.”

«She was the old witch who danced on the table.”

“ Have you by chance a second key ?”

“ Tt hangs there on that large bunch to the right.”

“Then I will take it with me, in case there is none in
the lock.”

“ But the dogs, father; they will tear you in pieces.
They are fierce to strangers.”

“TJ will call them by their names, if you will tell me
what they are.”

“T don’t know their names,” returned the countess,
_ who never troubled herself about such a common thing
as a watch-dog’s name.

' “Then I must shoot them.”

“ But, father, as gently as you can.” By this Theude-
linde did not mean to appeal to his compassion for the
dogs, but to remind him to spare her sensitive nerves.

The abbé took his revolver and went on his mission ;
he carried no lantern with him, for daylight had come.

Both the watch-dogs lay one on each side of the door-
way. They were chained loosely, so that they could

134 BLACK DIAMONDS

keep well clear of one another, but it was impossible to
pass between them to the door; if you escaped being
bitten by one, the other was sure to tear you. The
abbé, therefore, to get to the door, had to shoot one and
wound the other. He then drew the bolt, and saw a man
standing before him, a revolver in Azs hand.

“Who are you? What do you want?” asked the
priest.

“Who are you, and what brings you here ?” returned
the stranger.

“T am the Abbé Samuel, the countess’s confessor.”

“And I am Ivan Behrend, the countess’s next
neighbor.”

The abbé lowered his pistol, and changed his tone to
one of courtesy.

“You must confess that it is rather an unusual hour
for you to come,” he said, smiling.

“ Honi soit qui mal y pense,” said Ivan, putting his
weapon into his pocket. “I came at this unusual hour
in consequence of a letter which I received this very
night, in which I was informed that the castle was in a
state of confusion, and the countess was in great need
of help.”

“ The cause of the confusion—”

“Oh, I know ; that was also in the letter. Therefore, —
I have come to do what I can, although I am aware the
countess admits no man into her house, especially at
this hour.”

‘She will receive you most certainly. Allow me first
to close the door. There is absolutely no one in the
house. Take care of the dog on the left-hand side; he
is still alive.”

“You have shot the other ?”

“Yes; you heard the shot and ‘drew your revolver ?”

“AN OBSTINATE FELLOW” 135

“Naturally. I did not know who might have fired
the pistol.”

Both men ascended to the apartments of the countess.
The abbé entered first to prepare her.

“We have got unexpected help,” he said; “a neigh-
bor of yours, Ivan Behrend.”

“A doubtful person,” returned Theudelinde, scorn-
fully. “ He is an atheist.”

“Tt does not matter in the present crisis whether he
be a Thug, a Mormon, or a Manichzan, we have great
need of his help. Some one told him of the plight you
are in, and he wishes to see you.”

“T will not see him, or speak to him. I beg you will
confer with him instead of me.”

“Countess, if this man is what you say, a heretic, he
may say that he will not confer with one of my cloth.”

“Very well. I suppose I must see him; but you will
be present ?”

“Tf it should be necessary.”

The countess rolled her shawl round her, and went
into the reception-room, into which the morning light
was breaking. Abbé Samuel thought it necessary, how-
ever, to light the candelabras on-the chimney.

Theudelinde, with a freezing air, asked Ivan to take a
chair, and placed herself at a considerable distance
from her visitor. She signed to him to begin the con-
versation.

** Countess, this night while I was busy reading, some
one tapped at my window, and when I opened it thrust
this note into my hand. It is written by your steward.”

“ By my steward !” exclaimed the countess, in a tone
of surprise.

“Tt is written in his style, and quite unfit for you to
read. I will tell you what interests you. The steward

136 BLACK DIAMONDS

says.that your entire household, without any exception
of sex, have made good their escape, and that he is fol-
lowing their example.”

“My steward also! And for what reason?”

“He gives the reason in his letter. I suspect, how-
ever, it is only a pretext on his part to conceal a very
criminal design. rT am of opinion that he has robbed
you.”

“Robbed me!” repeated the countess.

“Do not alarm yourself; there are different sorts of
robbery, such as being an unfaithful steward, injuring
your land, making profit to himself to your disadvantage.
This man, I imagine, played this game, and has now
tried to give a humorous turn to his flight, so that the
laugh may be turned against you. This is my idea.”

The countess was obliged to acknowledge that her
neighbor was both a clever and a kind-hearted man.

“Tn this letter,” continued Ivan, “ your steward states
that after what has happened he could never dare to look
you in the face again, as he could not convince you that
the late scandals in the castle had gone on without his
knowledge. I did not believe these words. I felt cer-
tain that you had dismissed your household on finding
out how grossly they had deceived you; therefore, my first
care on getting this letter was to send a messenger on
horseback to the nearest telegraph-station with a mes-
sage to your banker in Pesth, to tell him that the agent
of the Bondavara estate had absconded, and on no ac
count to honor his checks. I thought it was probable
he had liberty to draw in your name.”

“This was really very practical and thoughtful on
your part,” said the abbé. “The countess must feel
most grateful to you.”

Theudelinde bowed her head graciously.

“AN OBSTINATE FELLOW” 137

“One reason that brought me here,” continued Ivan,
“was to know if you approved of what I had done, and also
to offer you my assistance in case you wish to leave the
castle. I will help you to get away, and I will send my
people to look after your property till you can make fur-
ther arrangements.”

“This is really most neighborly and friendly, and the
countess owes you a debt of gratitude,” repeated the
priest, again assuming all responsibility.

“T am merely doing my duty,” returned Ivan. “ And
I would add that if you should be in any difficulty as to
the necessary funds, which is very likely, as the steward
and bailiff have both made off, don’t let this for a mo-
ment distress you; I can lend you ten thousand florins.”

The Abbé Samuel whispered to the countess to accept
this offer in the spirit in which it was meant, and on no
account to say anything of interest.

Theudelinde accordingly held out her hand with gra-
cious dignity to her chivalrous neighbor, who drew from
his pocket the money in bank-notes. The countess
wished to give him an acknowledgment, which he de-
clined, saying the money was lent for such a short time
that it was not necessary.

“ And about leaving the castle,” he said. ‘ How soon
do you start?”

“The sooner the better!” cried the countess.

“Then, if you will allow me to suggest a plan for ac-
complishing the first stage of the journey, which is the
difficult part of the business, in the first place it will be
necessary to pack up what you need. Will you be good
enough, countess, to select the trunks you mean to bring?
When this is done I will harness the horses; then we
must lock and seal the rooms, and my servants will watch
them mntil you send your proper people. This done,

138 BLACK DIAMONDS

we can set out; and as we shall have to pass the stew-
ard’s house, we can call there, and look for any books
he may have for keeping the accounts of the estate.
They would be useful.”

“T shall not go there ; I don’t want any accounts.”

“Very good. Then we shall go straight to the inn in
my village.”

“What to do?”

“Because the post is there. We must get post-
horses.”

“And why post-horses? Cannot I drive my own
horses?”

“No.”

“ And why not?”

“Because they are screws. They would not reach
the next station.”

“My horses! Why do you say they are screws?”
asked the countess, angrily.

“‘ Because they are in bad condition.”

‘** Bear!” thought Theudelinde. “He answers me so
roughly.”

“JT shall not enter the inn,” she said, determinedly.
“IT go nowhere where men drink. Cannot I wait at
your house until the horses are changed ?”

“Certainly. I am charmed to receive you, countess ;
only you will find nothing suitable for you. I live alone
en garcon.”

“Oh, that does not matter,” returned the countess,
with an air of indifference.

“Will you have the goodness, then,” said Ivan, “to
begin your preparations and select the clothes you mean
to pack up?”

Theudelinde gave a strange smile. ‘ My oadicine will
not take long; my luggage will not be heavy. Will you

“AN OBSTINATE FELLOW ” 139

make a good fire while I go to my wardrobe? It is
very cold in this room.”

In the sitting-room there. was a large marble fireplace,
and in the ashes of the grate some sparks still lingered.
Ivan put some wood on the smouldering fire, and soon
a genial blaze glowed in the chimney. It welcomed the
countess, who presently returned, carrying in her arms a
heap of dresses and clothes of all description.

Ivan looked at her in dismay. “You are going to
pack all those ?”

“Yes, and as many more, which still remain in my
wardrobe.”

“ But, countess, where ?”

“ Here,” returned Theudelinde, as she flung the bun-
dle on the fire.

It filled up the whole fireplace, and the fire, catching
the light materials, there was presently a crackling
sound, while the old chimney roared again with joy over
such a splendid contribution.

The two men looked on in silence at this auto-da-fé.

Ten times did Theudelinde go backward. and for-
ward to her room, each time returning with fresh arm-
fuls of finery, and when these were exhausted, her linen,
boots, shoes, etc., followed; while at each sacrifice the
flaiaes in the chimney leaped and danced, and the wind
blew the flames up the chimney, where they roared like
so many demons.

“Well, this sort of packing makes short work,” thought
Ivan, but said nothing.

The clergyman stood with his hands behind his back.
The countess’s eyes danced, her cheeks were flushed, her
activity was unceasing. When all was consumed she
turned to Ivan with a triumphant air.

“Tt is finished,” she said.

140 BLACK DIAMONDS

“ And may I ask in what toilette your ladyship intends
to travel ?”

“In the clothes I wear, and my fur cloak.”

“ Then I shall go and get the carriage.”

When he was gone the countess, assisted by the abbé,
put on her fur pelisse lined with sable. She took with
her nothing that she had ever used; in her opinion
everything was defiled.

After a few minutes Ivan returned, and announced
that the carriage was at the entrance. The doors were
then locked, and a seal affixed to each.

When they entered the hall the sight of the dog which
the abbé had spared presented a difficulty. If they left
him he would die of hunger. The countess thought it
would be better to shoot him also. Ivan, however, was
more merciful.

“T will chain him to the carriage, and he will follow
us,”

Theudelinde was certain the hound would bite him;
but the dog’s instinct assured him that it was a friend
who now approached. He allowed Ivan to put on his
chain, and licked his hand to show his gratitude. All
was now done. Ivan locked the gates, gave the key to
the abbé, who with the countess was already seated in
the carriage, jumped on the coach-box, and drove away
from Bondavara Castle. They went slowly, for the two
miserable nags, which were dignified with the name of
carriage horses, could hardly drag them along. They
were spent with age and starvation, and were only fit for
the knacker’s yard.

As the vehicle turned in the direction of the coal-mine
Ivan remarked a cloud of smoke in the distance, and
soon after they met a group of laborers carrying requi-
sites for putting out a fire, hurrying in the direction of

““AN OBSTINATE FELLOW” 141

the smoke. On being questioned they said the granary
of the noble countess was burning, but that they hoped
to extinguish the fire.

“T think it will be easily done,” Ivan said. “ The
steward set it on fire to conceal the defalcation in the
crop.”

The countess was indignant, but Ivan remarked dryly
that property had its duties, and that those who never
looked after their own interests were fair game for the
thief.

A rough, ill-mannered man!

It was full daylight before the noble coach, drawn by
the pair of noble nags, made its way through the heavy
snow into the Bergwerk Colony. The wretched beasts
were steaming as they drew up at Ivan’s door. Ivan’s
first care was to call the postmaster to take them to his
stable, and to order a good pair of fresh horses to re-
place them. Then he led his tired guests into his work-
room. All the other rooms were cold and cheerless, so
he took them where there was warmth and light.

In the room everything was in the utmost disorder ;
it was hard to find a place where the countess could sit
down. She looked about her with astonishment at the
strange objects which encumbered the tables and chairs ;
every available spot was taken up by some extraordinary,
diabolical-looking invention. She cast a look of terror
at the chemical laboratory, upon whose furnace the coals
still glimmered, testifying to the experiment upon which
Ivan had been at work when interrupted by the steward’s
tap at the window.

“ Cagliostro’s workshop,” she whispered to the abbé.
“There are mysterious things done here.”

What annoyed the countess far more than the evi-
dences of mystery and magic which surrounded her

142 BLACK DIAMONDS

was the idea that she was the guest and the debtor of
this rough, common fellow. She, rich, well-born, a
faithful child of the Church, owed her rescue from a
most unpleasant position to this obscure, godless trades-
man. If she could only pay him the heaviest interest
for his loan, and had not to say “thank you!” And
yet she had to swallow the indignity.

Ivan, after an absence of a few minutes, returned,
followed by a maid carrying a tray with the steaming
breakfast. She laid the cloth, and set out the cups and
coffee-cans, The countess would gladly have made
some excuse to avoid tasting the food presented by her
unholy host, but the abbé, who was a man of the world,
drew his chair to the table, and invited Theudelinde to
follow his example, “ For,” he said, “we shall not get
anything to eat till the evening, as there are no inns on
our road; and you want refreshment before your long
journey.” 7

When the countess saw that no demons seized upon
the clergyman, and that the coffee of the Warlock
seemed innocent of all evil, she, too, came to the table
and sipped a few spoonfuls, but she found it was execrable
stuff ; the milk was not so bad, and she contented her-
self with that and bread.

Ivan began to talk about the weather—a very general
subject of conversation; but herein there was this dif-
ference. Instead of an ignoramus, it was a meteorol-
ogist who handled the theme. Ivan assured the count-
ess that both the barometer and his English glass
pointed to fine weather, the sun was as warm as in May,
their journey. would be excellent. As he spoke, Ivan
drew back the thick green window curtains, and let in
the bright sunlight to enliven the half-darkened room.
The first effect of this sudden eruption of light was to

“AN OBSTINATE FELLOW” 143

show the countess her own face reflected in a large con-
cave mirror which hung on the wall opposite to her.

It is an undoubted fact that we all like to see our
reflection in a glass; our eyes wander to it naturally,
and the most earnest orator, in the midst of his finest
peroration, will gesticulate to his own image with more
satisfaction than to a crowded audience; but it is a
totally different thing if it should be a magnifying-glass.
What a horrible distortion of ourselves—head as large
as a cask, features of a giant, expression that of a satyr;
a sight too dreadful to contemplate.

_ “What an awful glass you have there,” said the count-
ess, peevishly, as she turned her back to the mirror.

“Tt is undoubtedly not a toilette mirror; it is a glass
which we use in chemical experiments to test the high-
est degrees of heat.”

Here the abbé, who wished to air his scientific knowl-
edge, put in—

“ As, for example, for burning a diamond.”

“Just so,’ returned Ivan. “That is one of the uses
of a concave mirror; it is necessary for burning a dia-
mond, which requires the flame of a gas retort.”

The countess was grateful for the abbé’s remark, for
it gave her a happy inspiration.

“Do you mean to tell me,” she said, addressing Ivan,
“that a diamond is combustible ?”

“Undoubtedly, for the diamond is, in fact, nothing
but coal in the form of a crystal. With the necessary
degrees of heat you can extract from the patrician dia-
mond ninety florins carat weight, the same amount of
invisible gas or oxide of coal as from the plebeian lump
of coal.”

“That is proved by the focus of the magnifier,” re-
marked the abbé,

144 BLACK DIAMONDS

“T don’t believe it,” said the countess, throwing back
her head.

“T am sorry,” returned Ivan, “that I cannot give you
a proof that the diamond is combustible. We do not
use such costly things for mere experiment, but have
splints for the purpose, which are cheap in comparison,
I have, however, none of these by me.”

“T should like to be convinced, for I do not believe
it,” repeated the countess. ‘ Will you make the experi-
ment with this?’ As she spoke she unfastened a brooch
from her dress, and handed it to her host. The centre
stone was a fine two-carat brilliant. Theudelinde ex-
pected that Ivan would return it to her, saying, ‘‘ Oh, it
would be a pity to use this beautiful stone ;” and then she
would reply, “Then pray keep it as a slight remem-
brance ;”’ and in this manner this perverse individual
would have been paid and forgotten. But, to her amaze-
ment, the countess found she had deceived herself.

With the indifference of a philosopher and the courtesy
of a gentleman Ivan took the brooch from its owner.

“T conclude you do not wish to have the ornament
melted,” he said, quietly. “I will take the diamond out
of its setting, and if it should not burn you can have it
reset.”’

Without another word he extracted the stone with a
little pincers, and placed it at the bottom of a flat clay
saucepan ; then he opened the window, which lay in the
full blaze of the sun. He placed the saucepan upon a
stand in the middle of the room and just in front of the
countess; then he took the magnifying-glass and went
outside, for in the room the sun’s rays had not power to
concentrate themselves upon the mirror.

The countess was now certain that the trick would not
succeed, and that she would have an opportunity of

“AN OBSTINATE FELLOW” 145

offering the diamond to Ivan on the pretext of repeating
the experiment when the sun’s rays would be more pow-
erful.

Ivan, when he had found the proper spot outside the
window, directed the rays from the apex of the burning-
glass straight upon the saucepan, where the diamond
was waiting the moment of its annihilation. The stone
emitted a thousand sparks. As the sun’s rays touched
it, it threw out as many colors as are in the rainbow;
it seemed as if it were to be the victor in this-fight. All
of a sudden the fiery rays condensed themselves in a
narrower circle upon the doomed diamond, the small
room was filled with a blinding light that turned every-
thing into silver; not a shadow remained. Out of the
saucepan shot a ball of fire like a flash of lightning ; the
next minute the burning-glass ceased to work.

Ivan still stood outside the window. He spoke to the
countess, who was transfixed with astonishment.

“What is in the saucepan ?” he asked.

“‘ Nothing.”

Ivan returned to the room, hung the mirror in its
place, and returned to the countess her brooch without
its centre stone.

The abbé could not help remarking, dryly, “ That little
drama is fit to be played before a queen.”

But now the postilion blew his horn, the countess
put on her fur pelisse, and was escorted to the carriage
by Ivan. She was obliged to give him her hand, and to
say the words, “ God be with you.”

When the carriage had gone a little way she said to
the abbé, “ That man is a sorcerer.”

But the clergyman shook his head. “ He is far worse;
he is an inquirer into the secrets of nature.”

“H’m! he is an obstinate, disagreeable man.”
10

CHAPTER X

THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS

THE counting-house of the firm of Kaulmann stands in
the same place where it stood fifty years ago. The en-
trance is as it was, and the very panes of glass are iden-
tical with those through which the founder of the house, in
1811, was wont to make his observations—as from an
observatory—upon the countenances of the passers-by,
when a rise or fall in the funds was expected. He knew
what an excellent barometer the faces of a crowd make,
and how much can be gleaned by observation ; so too a
chance word, which is let fall as it were by accident, often
contains the germ of much truth, and is, to an experi-
enced man, in a measure prophetic.

The young head of the house did not set much store
by the counting-house business. He had higher aims.
He lived on the first floor in luxurious bachelor cham-
bers ; his sitting-room was a museum, and his writing-
table was crowded with bronzes and antiques ; his ink-
stand was a masterpiece of Benvenuto Cellini’s —or,
perhaps, a good imitation in galvanized plaster; his pen
was gold, with a diamond top; he used gold sand for
blotting-paper ; the sand-sifter was made of porphyry,
the pen-holder was a branch of real coral, the paper-
weight a mosaic from Pompeii, the candle-shades of real
crystal, the cover of the blotting-book Japanese. Every
article had a value of its own, from the Turkish paper

THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS 147

knife to the paper itself, which was of all sorts and de-
scriptions, from the thickest vellum to the most delicate
straw note, perfumed with mignonette and musk. In spite
of these elaborate arrangements, no one had ever been
known to write at this so-called writing-table. The
science cultivated by Felix Kaulmann did not require
the use of pen and ink; it was purely mental work.
Felix worked night and day ; during his sleep, even, he
worked, but no trace of his labor was to be found on
paper. When he amused. himself—dancing, riding,
making love—he seemed altogether occupied with the
subject on hand ; he worked, nevertheless, all the time.
He had a certain goal at which he was aiming; for this
he lived, for this he strove, and this alone aroused his
interest and his enthusiasm; he never forgot for one
moment the aim of his life. He had something more to
do than to make a pen travel over paper; he had to
move men.

One day, not long after the events in the Castle of
Bondavara, the Abbé Samuel was seated in Felix Kaul-
mann’s room. Both were engaged in serious conversa:
tion. Before them an elegant equipage of fragrant
Mocha, whose fumes mingled with that of the Latakia,
which our friend the abbé smoked from a genuine
Turkish pipe. Felix only smoked cigars.

“Well, here is your agreement with the countess. As
you wished for thirty-two years, it is regularly drawn up.
And now I should like to know of what use it can pos-
sibly be to either you or your company. It is not
enough for the countess to sign it ; it wants the signa-
ture of the prince to make the contract advantageous to
you, for the countess has only a life-interest in the Bonda-
vara property. As soon as she dies it goes to the prince,
or to his grandson, and then your agreement is null ”

148 BLACK DIAMONDS

“T know that,” returned Felix, knocking the ash from
his cigar; “and for this reason we must take care and
keep the old girl alive. Let her have a good time, and
she will live to a great age. It is very hard to kill an
old maid, especially if she has lots of money. Besides,
I am not so careless as you suppose. I have looked
into the matter; I have seen the will of the old prince,
and I know all its provisions. There is a clause that
.makes me pretty safe. When Countess Theudelinde.
goes off the reel, her brother, the present man, or his
heirs, are obliged to compensate all those, either tenants,
householders, or creditors, who may have erected any
buildings on the estate. You see, the old prince con-
sidered that it would be more than probable that his
crazy daughter might, in a fit of holy enthusiasm, build
either a church or a convent, and he thought he would
give the heirs the advantage of her generosity. It never
entered into his head that any one would erect a fac-
tory, a refinery, or open a'mine. Now you see how
useful this clause is to me; the heirs will not bein a
position to refund us the two millions of money we are
putting on the property.”

“Unless they find another company to advance them
the money.”

“That would not be so easy. First of all, it would
have to go into the very intricate affairs of the Bonda-
vara family; then it would require immense capital,
great energy, and a certain amount of risk. For the
rest, I can see as far as my neighbors. I don’t sit with
my hands in my lap, I can tell you, and I have not put
all my money on one card.”

“Right! By-the-way, what has become of the little
wild kitten you brought away from the Bondavara
mine ?”

THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS 149

“T have placed her for the present in Madame Risan’s
school ; she is being educated, for she has extraordinary
capabilities, although in a general way she is a stupid
creature. She has a splendid voice, but she cannot
sing, as singing is nowadays ; she has a wonderfully ex-
pressive face, but does not know how to make use of it ;
she is full of feeling, and speaks no language but her
mother-tongue.”

“Do you mean to educate her for the stage ?”

“ Certainly.”

“ And then ?”

“T intend to marry her.”

The abbé raised his eyebrows in some astonishment.

“JT should hardly have thought,” he said, coldly,
“that a pupil of Madame Risan’s would be likely to
make a satisfactory wife, although she might be an ex-
cellent actress.”

Felix looked haughtily at his visitor, then shrugged
his shoulders, as who would say the abbé’s opinion on
this point was indifferent to him. For a few minutes
the men smoked in silence; then, with a sudden clear-
ing of his face, Kaulmann said, in his blandest manner:

“T want to ask you a question. You know the ins
and outs of the marriage laws. Is there any means by
which a marriage can be set aside without having re-
course to the divorce court? That is always attended
with great expense and a good deal of scandal ; and if
the other side should be obstinate and malicious, it can
drag for an interminable time.”

“T know of only one other method. We will suppose
that you are already married according to the rules of
the Church in this country. You wish, for some reason,
for a dissolution of this marriage. Well, you have only
to go to Paris, and take up your residence in the bank-

150° BLACK DIAMONDS

ing-house your firm has there. Your father was a
French subject, so are you. According to the French
law, no marriage is valid that is not solemnized before
the civil authorities ; therefore, the remedy would be in
your hands! A short time ago the process was tried by
the French court. A certain count had married in
Spain; the eldest son of this marriage sought to recover
his birthright, which had been forfeited in consequence
of his father’s having neglected to be remarried before
the registrar in France. The court, however, pro-
nounced the Spanish marriage invalid, and yours would
be a similar case.”

Felix got up from his seat. “I thank you,” he said,
“more than I can say. If the recollection of our youth-
ful friendship didn’t remind me that our compact was
always to /ove one another, I should certainly feel that I
owed you a heavy debt.”

“For what?” returned the abbé, lifting his eyes in
some surprise. ‘It is well for you to remind me of our
young days. Was I not then the debtor of your father?
What did he not do for me? He found me a miserable,
overworked, ill-paid student; he made me your tutor,
and so_opened for me the road to better things. Oh, I
never forget! But let us not talk any more of the past.”

“No, for the future is before us, and we shall work to-
gether. Now, I must ask you, as the countess’s repre-
sentative, to sign the necessary papers. There is the
contract, and here is the check for the first half-year’s
rent,and here is another check for the sum of forty
thousand gulden on my cashier.”

“To whom payable ?”

Felix answered by pressing the check into the abbé’s
hand, while he whispered in his ear:

“To the friendly representative,”

THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS 151i

The other shook his head, with a wounded look on his
face. “You mean to offer me a present?” he said,
haughtily.

“You do not understand,” returned Felix. ‘ This
money does not come from me; it forms part of the ex-
penses of the company, and in all such undertakings
figures under the head of ‘ necessary expenses.’ ”

As he spoke, Felix lit another cigar, and looked slyly
at his companion, as who should say, “‘ You see what a
capital fellow Iam!’ Round the abbé Samuel’s mouth
a contemptuous smile flickered as he tore the check for
forty thousand gulden into four pieces ; then he laid his
hand upon the banker’s shoulder.

“ My dear boy,” he said, “ I had the whole Bondavara
property in the hollow of my hand; it was mine to do as
I chose with it. I did with it as I do with these pieces
of paper.” He threw the torn check into the grate.
“Know me, once for all. I am no begging monk. I
am a candidate for high honors; nothing will content
me but to be ruler of a kingdom.”

The haughty air with which the abbé said these words
impressed the banker so much that he laid down his
cigar and stared vacantly at his visitor.

“ That is a great word,” he said, slowly.

“ Sit down and listen to what I shall disclose to you,”
returned the priest, who, with his hands behind his back,
now began to walk up and down the room, pausing from
time to time before his astonished listener, to whom he
poured out a torrent of words.

“The whole world is in labor,” he said, “and brings
forth nothing but mice. And wherefore? Because the
lions will not come into the world. Chaos rules every-
where—in finance, in diplomacy, in the Church. One
man who would have intellect enough to see clearly

152 BLACK DIAMONDS

could be master of the situation. But where is he to be ©
found? Fools in embroidered coats are the leaders;
therefore we see a country governed by incapables, who
do not know even where to begin. They would fain
force it to submit, but are afraid to use the necessary
means. ‘They oppress it, and at the same time live in
dread of what it may do. And this same country does
not itself know what to-morrow may bring, whether it
shall submit, pay the demands of its oppressors, or ap-
peal to arms against their tyranny ; neither does it know
who is its foe, who is its friend, with whom to ally itself,
against whom to fight; whether it will go on submitting,
whether it shal] break out into curses or wild laughter
at its own follies. The country still possesses one ele-
ment, which stands, as it were, neutral between the two
parties; this element is the clerical; the Church is a
power in Hungary.”

Felix’s face grew darker; he could not imagine what
all this would lead to. But the abbé had now paused,
and was standing before him.

“What do you think, my son,” he said, “ would be the
reward due to the man who could find a way out of this
mass of confusion—who could unite the classes, and
bring them into conformity with the wishes of the gov-
ernment? Do you not think that there is nothing
which would better further your Bondavara speculation
than a submissive deputation of priests and people,
who would give a promise of fidelity to the minister?
One hand washes the other; he who brings about such
an unlooked-for condition of affairs must be recom-
pensed. Now do you understand what use this would
be to you?”

“TI think I begin to see.”

* And what office do you think should be offered to

THE HIGHER MATHEMATICS 153

the man who brings the peasant’s frock into subjection
and elevates the mitre ?”

Felix clasped his hands together. That was his an-
swer. The clergyman resumed his walk up and down
the room ; his lips were compressed, his head in the air.

“The primate is an old man,” he said, suddenly.

Felix leaned back in his chair. He could see better
in this position the various expressions which passed
over the abbé’s face. He started when the abbé mur-
mured, almost under his breath:

“The pope is still older.”

There was a moment’s silence, and then the abbé
continued, speaking fast and with excitement:

“ Dwarfs are at the rudder, my son; dwarfs who be-
lieve that their impotent efforts will stem the storm. The
Church is in danger of going to pieces, and they make
use of the old worn-out means of support. Listen to
my words. All the efforts of Rome are fruitless ; it tries
to maintain its dignity with Peter’s pence, and has al-
lowed millions to slip through its fingers. Only here in
Hungary has the Church any property left. I know well
that in the minister's drawer there is a paper prepared
which only needs the signature of the state to become
law; it only requires a slight pretext, and Vienna will
declare war against the clerical power in Hungary. She
will fight it upon the liberal principle, and those who
oppose will be the unpopular, the losing side. It is only
a question of time. The deficit grows daily, the gov-
ernment is in a hole, the treasury is empty, there is no
loan possible. Hence a fight over the budget, or a
trifling war somewhere. You know the proverb, ‘When
the devil is hungry he eats flies.’ The clerical property
in Hungary is the fly, and Austria will make one bite at
it, The chair of St, Peter and the Church property in

154 BLACK DIAMONDS

Hungary are botlrin danger. How is the danger to be
averted? Let us put our shoulders to the wheel; let us
be more patriotic than the democrats, more loyal than
the prime-minister, more liberal than revolutionists ; let
us save the Church property from the government, and
the Church itself from the revolution. Let us throw into
the market a gigantic loan of a hundred millions upon
the property of the Hungarian Church for the rescue of
the throne of St. Peter. What do you now think of the
man who could do this thing? What should be his re-
ward ?”

“Everything,” stammered Felix, his mind confused
over this bewildering, yet fascinating, programme.

“To this great work I have destined you,” said the
abbé, with a solemn, majestic air. “Your Bondavara
speculation is necessary, for with it you can make a coup
which shall bring you a world-wide reputation, your name
shall be on a par with that of the Strousbergs, the Pe-
reiras, with that of Rothschild itself. This is the reason
why I have given you my support. When you are firmly
established, then I shall say to you, ‘Lend me your shoul-
der,’ upon which I shall climb where [ will.”

After this Felix sank into a waking dream. Before
his eyes gleamed the gigantic loan, and through a mist
he saw the tall form of the abbé with a crown upon his
head.

CHAPTER XI

SOIREES AMALGAMANTES

ONE winter’s morning Ivan Behrend, to his great as-
tonishment, received a notice from the president of the
Hungarian Academy of Arts and Science. This notice
set forth that the members of the physical, scientific,
and mathematical department had in the last general
assembly chosen him as an honorary member of the be-
fore-mentioned departments; and before being elected
member of the academy itself he should, in conformity
to the established custom, read before the assembly his
first address. Ivan was petrified with amazement. How
had such an honor come to him? He who had never
written a scientific paper in any periodical ; who had no
connections or friend in the academical assembly, who
was not a magnate, or had played no part in political
life. He was puzzled; he could not conceive who had
brought forward his name. Could it have been, he
thought, that in some way his chemical researches had
reached their ears? In which case, as he told himself,
every director of a mine, every manager of a factory,
would be considered a philosopher and made member
of the Academy, for every one of them possessed as
much knowledge as he did. There was no use in think-
ing about it; the honor had come to him, and should be
accepted. Ivan thought it best not to look the gift-
horse in the mouth; he therefore wrote to the secretary,

156 BLACK DIAMONDS ’

expressing his gratitude for the unlooked-for honor con-
ferred upon him, and stating that towards the end of
the year he would present himself in Pesth, and read
before the illustrious assembly his inaugural address.
Then he considered the subject of this address long and
carefully, and spent much of his time over its elabora-
tion. It was an account of microscopical crustations,
the study of which he had followed closely during the
boring of an artesian well, and which during ten years
he had perfectly mastered. It took him until late in
the autumn to complete his essay on the subject.

In many places, where such scientific research is
valued at its proper merit, his paper would have been
appreciated, and would have even caused a sensation ;
but we are bound in honesty to confess that it did not
do so in Pesth, and that during the sixty minutes allowed
by the canon law of all institutions for such lectures,
the microscopical crustations produced an amount of
yawning unprecedented, even among academicians.

After the reading of the lecture was over the very
first person to greet the neophyte and offer his congrat-
ulations was the Abbé Samuel, and then a light burst
suddenly upon Ivan. He now saw who it was who had
discovered his talents, and who had been his patron. It
was something of a fall to his vanity; he had thought—
well, it didn’t matter, the abbé was doubtless as learned
as any one in the assembly, and his thanks were due to
him. Small attentions, it is said, consolidate friendship.

Ivan decided to spend some days in Pesth ; he had
business to do. During the week several papers noticed
his academical address; the most merciful was one
which announced he had given an interesting lecture
upon the “ Volcanic Origin of the Stalactites.” Ivan’s
only consolation was that in his own country no one read

SOIREES AMALGAMANTES 157

The Referate, and that abroad no one understood it,
as it was written in Hungarian. He was wrong, how-
ever; some one did read it—but of this again. One
day, as Ivan was making his preparations for his home-
ward journey, he received from the Countess Theude-
linde Bondavara a card of invitation for a soirée, which
would take place three evenings later.

“ Aha!” thought Ivan, “another thank-offering. It is
well that it did not come sooner.”

He sat down to his writing-table and answered the
invitation in the most courteous manner, regretting his
inability to avail himself of it in consequence of his im-
mediate departure from Pesth. He was in the act of
sealing the letter when the door opened and the Abbé
Samuel was announced. Ivan expressed his great pleas-
ure at receiving so distinguished a visitor.

“T could not let you leave Pesth without coming,”
answered the abbé, in his most friendly manner. “My
visit was due, not only because I am much indebted for
your kind assistance at Bondavara, but also because I
felt it a necessity to tell you what an honor I count it to
know such a distinguished scholar as you have proved
yourself to be.”

Ivan felt inclined to say that he was neither distin-
guished nor a scholar; he remained, however, silent.

“T trust,” continued the abbé, seating himself upon
the sofa, “ that you intend to make a long stay in Pesth ?”

“T am leaving to-morrow,” returned Ivan, dryly.

“Oh, impossible! We cannot lose you so soon. I
imagine you have a card for the Countess Theudelinde’s
next soirée ?”

“T regret that I am prevented from accepting her
agreeable invitation ; I have pressing business which ne-
cessitates my return,”

is58 BLACK DIAMONDS

The abbé laughed. “Confess honestly,” he said,
“that if you had no other reason to return home, you
would run away from an entertainment which would
bore you infinitely.”

“Well, then, if you will have the truth, I do confess
that a soirée is to me something of a penance.”

“These soirées, however, are on a different footing
from those réunions which, I agree with you, are more
pain than pleasure, and where a stranger feels himself
‘out of it,’ as the saying goes. Countess Theudelinde
aims at having a sa/on, and succeeds admirably. She
receives all the best people. I don’t mean by that ge-
neric word only the upper ten, but the best in the true
sense, the best that Pesth affords in art, in literature, in
science ; the aristocracy of birth, talent, and beauty.”

Ivan shook his head incredulously. “And how does
such a mixed gathering answer ?”

The abbé did not reply at once; he scratched his
nose thoughtfully.

“Until they get to know one another, it is perhaps
somewhat stiff. But with intellectual people this stiff-
ness must soon disappear, and each one will do some-
thing to keep the ball rolling. You have an excellent
delivery; I noticed it the night of your lecture. You
could easily find a subject on which to lecture which
would interest your listeners by its novelty, surprise
them by its profundity, and amuse them by its variety ;
their intellect and their imagination would be equally
engaged.”

It was Ivan’s turn to laugh, which he did loudly.
“My excellent sir, such a subject is unknown tome. I
confess my ignorance; neither in print nor in manuscript
have I met with it.”

The clergyman joined in the laugh.

SOIREES AMALGAMANTES 159

At this moment a servant brought Ivan a despatch,
which claimed instant attention, so that the receipt
might be given to the messenger who waited for it.
Ivan begged his guest to excuse him if he opened this
urgent document. The abbé, with a wave of his hand,
requested him not to mind his presence.

As Ivan read the letter a remarkable change passed
over his face ; he grew suddenly pale, his eyebrows con-
tracted, then a sudden rush of color came into his cheeks.
He held the letter before him, read it several times,
while his eyes had a wild stare, as if he had seen a
ghost. Then all at once he fell to laughing. He thrust
the letter into his pocket, and returned to the subject he
had been discussing.

“Yes, yes,” he said, “I shall go to Countess Theude-
linde’s soirée, and I shall give a lecture before her guests
such as they have never heard the equal; that I prom-
ise you. Science and poetry, imagination and learning
mixed together, with dates and genealogy, so that the
savants present will not know what to think; I shall give
a lecture which will make every geologist a prince, and
every princess a geologist. Do you follow me ?”

“Perfectly,” returned the other; not, indeed, that he
saw what Ivan meant, but that he wished to encourage
him. “That will be the very thing—first-rate !”

“What do you say to illustrations by means of an
electric-magnetic machine, eh ?”

“A capital idea, and amusing. My dear friend, you
will have a succes.”

“May I ask you to convey to the countess my ac-
ceptance of her invitation? I shall require a large ap-
paratus.”’

“T can assure you in advance that the countess will
be charmed at your kind offer. As for the apparatus

160 BLACK DIAMONDS

and arrangement, leave that to her, she will be over-
joyed when she hears that she is to expect you.”

The abbé then took his leave, fully contented with
his visit. Ivan again read his letter, and again sat star-
ing into space, as if a ghost had appeared to him.

People said the Countess Theudelinde’s Soirées Amal-
gamantes would certainly make history. The mixture
was excellent: grandees jostled elbows with poets ; acad-
emicians with prelates; musicians, painters, sculptors,
actors, critics, professors, physicians, editors, sportsmen,
and politicians of all shades gathered under one roof.
It was a bold experiment, a brilliant society im thes?.
Neither was there wanting the element of female attrac-
tion; all that Pesth held of beauty, charm, and grace
lent its aid to the scheme of amalgamation.

Count Stefan, a cousin of Countess Theudelinde, was
a great help to her soirées, for he was a well-informed
and cultivated young man, able to talk on all subjects,
and especially on the poetry of the world. As for the
Countess Angela, she was a classic beauty; her grand-
father was a political celebrity—a great man, who hada
surrounding of all kinds, bad and good. It was there-
fore quite in keeping, according to the usages of society,
that when an unfortunate outsider was presented to
Countess Angela, he should, after the third word or so,
make mention of her illustrious grandfather, Prince
Theobald of Bondavara, and inquire after his health.
After this question, however, the Countess Angela never
addressed the stranger another word. She allowed him
to speak, if he so wished, and to retire in some confu-
sion. Even the most dried-up specimen of university
learning felt aggrieved. His heart could not resist the
first glance of those heavenly eyes, so sweet and friendly,
now so cold and haughty. And yet what had he done?

SOIREES AMALGAMANTES 163

The poor man will probably never know; he is not in
the inner circle.

Countess Angela was indeed a perfect ideal beauty ;
this cannot be too often repeated. A pure, noble face,
' with classical, well-proportioned features, nose and lips
finely cut, long, straight eyebrows and lashes, which
veiled the eyes of a goddess. When these eyes glowed,
or when they were half-closed under their downy lids,
they looked black, but when they laughed at you, you
would swear they were blue. Her hair was rich, of that
most lovely of all shades, chestnut brown; her whole
countenance betrayed that she knew herself to be charm-
ing, that she was aware that she was the centre, at all
times, of admiration, and that such knowledge pleased
her well. And why not? A woman must be very silly
not to be aware that beauty is a gift and a power.

But what was the reason of her cold looks at the men-
tion of her grandfather’s name? Just what one might
expect from a woman with her face. All the world—
that is, her world—knew that she and her grandfather,
Prince Theobald of Bondavara, were at daggers drawn.
The wily old politician had given his only and beautiful
granddaughter to a German, Prince Sondersheim. She
was to consolidate some political matter, only she didn’t
see it in that light, and refused to ratify the bargain, not
caring for Sondersheim; and, for the matter of that,
neither did he care for her. But, then, it didn’t mean so
much to him. Angela had her ideal of married life,
however, and so she quarrelled with her grandfather
because he pooh-poohed her ideals and called them
romantic folly. Upon this she vowed she would never
speak to him again, and he, being angry, told her to
leave his house, which she did at once, and came to her
Aunt Theudelinde, who had just set up at Pesth, and

t62 BLACK DIAMONDS

was glad to have so bright and beautiful a niece. Sincé
then she had refused all communication with her grand-
father. This was the reason that she would not even
hear his name mentioned ; and it never was, except by
ignorant outsiders, or “ know-nothings,” as the Yankees
call them.

The Abbé Samuel had wit enough to see that the
Sotrées Amalgamantes were not the success they should
be. Conversation did not suffice; amalgamation was at
a standstill. The young girls sat in one room, the mar-
ried women in another; the men herded together, look-
ing glum, but not so bored as the women. Then the ~
abbé, considering what ought to be done, had a happy
idea. He introduced dramatic representations, dramatic
readings, concerts, which were a decided success. Soon
conversation became lively, strangers got to know one
another ; when they rehearsed together duets and little
pieces their stiffness wore off. The women seemed dif-
ferent in morning dress, free from the restraints of the
grand toilette ; they grew quite friendly, and later on
they found a subject upon which they discoursed quite
at their ease. It must be confessed, however, that after
midnight, when the readings, the concert, or the repre-
sentation was over, and the outsiders had gone home to
their beds, society began to enjoy itself. The young
people danced, the old played whist or tarok, and they
stayed till daybreak. They would have done the same
had the scientists, the poets, the artists remained; they
didn’t want them to leave, but, naturally, these people
felt themselves out of it, and, besides, they could not sit
up all night like the others, so they went home very
properly ; they knew their place.

The Abbé Samuel understood how to manage mat-
ters. Whenever the countess was to have a particularly

SOIREES AMALGAMANTES 163

good evening he took care it should get talked about,
and the names of the performers, their parentage and
history, together with any interesting circumstance,
true or false, should be subjects of conversation for days
before. In this way he sent about Ivan Behrend’s
name with a great many details as to his interesting life
in the mines, his extraordinary cleverness, and the won-
derful lecture he was going to give at the countess’s
next soirée.

The abbé knew his world, and how to whet its curiosity
by exaggerated reports.

“Ts it true that, for one experiment only, he burned a
brilliant belonging to Countess Theudelinde which was
worth eight hundred gulden ?”

“The stone weighed four carats, and was worth fif-
teen hundred pounds.”

“We must give him a good reception. See, here he
comes, escorted by Abbé Samuel!”

The gentleman who had just spoken, and who was
the Countess Angela’s cousin, was Count Edmund, a
handsome young man of about twenty-two years of age.
He hastened to meet Ivan and the abbé as they entered
the door, and introduced himself as nephew to the lady
of the house. He took Ivan by the arm in the most
friendly manner, and led him to Count Stefan, uncle to
the countess. The count was a man of intelligence and
reading ; he assured Ivan there were those in the room
who were much interested to hear his lecture. After
this he was presented by his new friend to several dis-
tinguished -looking persons with decorations, who all
pressed his hand, and spoke in the most friendly
manner. The beginning of the evening was the most
agreeable portion. The abbé and Ivan finally made
their way into the next room, where the ladies were as-

164 BLACK DIAMONDS

sembled, and here they found the Countess Theudelinde,
who received them, and especially Iyan, most graciously.
The young man, Count Edmund, again took possession
of him, and, laughing and talking, led him_up to the
Countess Angela, to whom he was introduced with a
great flourish. Before this lovely vision Ivan bowed,
feeling somewhat stunned, yet not shy or awkward.

‘You come very seldom to Pesth,” said the young
countess, with a reassuring smile.

“Tt is some time since I have been here; but I under-
stand this is your first visit, countess. You have never
lived in Pesth ?”

Angela’s face assumed its cold expression; she felt
sure he was going to inquire for Prince Theobald.

“T do not see,” she said, in a sarcastic voice, “ what
it is to any one whether I have ever been in Pesth.”

“Tt is not an uncommon accident,” returned Ivan,
quietly, “that a man visits a place where he has never
been before; but when many people meet in the same
spot, it looks as if there was something more than acci-
dent in such a gathering; and in this instance, where so
many brilliant personages are brought together, it seems
as if Providence had more to do with it than mere
chance.”

At these words Angela’s face cleared. “Then you
believe in Providence? you acknowledge there is such
a thing as Divine ordinance ?”

“ Undoubtedly, I do believe.”

“Then we shall be friends.” She turned away as she
spoke, and Ivan took this movement as a signal to re-
tire.

After a quarter of an hour’s further waiting, Edmund
came to tell him that everything was in readiness in the
lecture-room, and the company had already gathered

SOIREES AMALGAMANTES 165

there in considerable numbers. Ivan, therefore, as-
cended the stage, which had been erected at the farther
end of the large room, and, holding his papers in his
hand, addressed his audience. He had a pleasant voice,
his manner of address was perfectly unaffected, com-
posed, and taking. From the first moment he held the
attention of the audience—his subject was Magnetism.

CHAPTER XII

RITTER MAGNET

WHEN the lecture had concluded the lamps were car-
ried out of the room, and only the candles in the lustre
were left lighted. Ivan then exhibited to the astonished
spectators the electric light. Many of them had never
seen such a clear, beautiful light as this ball of virgin-
like purity. It looked like one of the heavenly planets,
as if Venus had descended from her place in the firma-
ment and was shining on the company. The candles
in the lustre burned blue, and threw shadows on the
wall. Every face lost all trace of color from the effect
of this strange illumination; people whispered to one
another, almost frightened. Ivan, standing upon the
platform, looked like some magician of old, his features
chiselled like a statue, his eyes in deep shadow; and
what added considerably to the picturesque effect, and
heightened the charm of this noble assembly, was the
strange coloring given by the light to the splendid
national costume worn by the company, and the enam-
elled appearance of the jewels on the ladies’ necks and
arms.

The eyes of every one were directed to two persons,
while an involuntary “ Ah!” was whispered about at the
extraordinary transformation produced in their appear-
ance. One was Countess Angela. The light seemed to
have taken from her face that pride and self-satisfaction

RiTtER MAGNET 167

which, although natural in one so beautiful, gave an
earthly expression to her face, and somewhat marred its
beauty. Now she looked a heavenly vision, with the ex-
pression of a glorified spirit who had done with earth
and had soared upward to her true home in heaven ; all
earthly passions, joy, sorrow, love, and pride, had van-
ished. Such was the miraculous effect of the magic
light. The other transformation was in Countess Theu-
delinde. She was seated in an armchair, raised upon a
sort of divan. The magic light touched her face gently,
and gave it a fairy-like expression; the noble features
were spiritualized, her naturally pale coloring became
transparent, the brilliants in her magnificent tiara spar-
kled over her forehead as a garland of stars; she was
sublime, and for five minutes the most beautiful among
the beautiful. It was, nevertheless, many a long year
since her mirror had told her she was beautiful. This,
too, was the miraculous effect of the magic light. Round
the hall there were large pier-glasses set into the wain-
scot, which reflected every one of the company. Theu-
delinde, therefore, could see herself beautified. She
sighed as she thought, “‘I look like Queen Mab.”

Suddenly the miraculous light went out, and the room,
lit only by the candles, seemed in total darkness, “Ah!”
in sorrowful tones was echoed through the assembly ;
people rubbed their eyes and recognized the familiar
faces again. Alas! it was over too soon. There were
no more angels, fairies, queens, or heroes ; only a group
of excellent every-day people, counts and countesses.
The face of Angela again wore its proud, vain expres-
sion, and Theudelinde was once more stiff and ill-tem-
pered.

Ivan now descended from his platform, and received
the congratulations and compliments due to his efforts.

168 BLACK DIASIONDS

There were different opinions, of course, but they were
private. Every one joined in praising the lecturer to
himself.

Ivan thanked every one for their approval, but with a
coldly reticent manner, and soon disengaged himself
from his admirers to go in search of his hostess; he
wished to thank her for her kindness.

Theudelinde received him with smiles. Countess An-
gela was with her, leaning on the back of her aunt’s
chair. The young girl had just said:

“You looked, auntie, quite lovely—a perfect Queen
Mab.”

The smile these words had called to Theudelinde’s
face still lingered round her lips when Ivan presented
himself. For these five minutes of beauty she was in-
debted to this man, and was not ungrateful. She gave
him her hand, and thanked him in the most gracious
manner for the enjoyment he had given her.

“TI owe you something,” returned Ivan. ‘When you
honored my house with a visit, you gave me a diamond
which you allowed me to burn before your eyes. I now
in return for your goodness on that occasion give you
this diamond, which was created before your eyes.” With
these words he handed her a piece of carbon, which he |
had taken from the voltaic pillar. “As I explained to
you in my lecture, coal cam be changed by electricity
into a diamond, and in this condition can cut glass.”

“Ah!” cried the Countess Angela, her eyes beaming
with pleasure, “let us try the experiment now. Where
is there a glass? Yes, one of the pier-glasses. Come.”

Countess Theudelinde was also excited. She stood
up, and went with the others to the pier-glass.

“Write one of the letters of the alphabet,” said An-
gela, and watched Ivan attentively. She was curious to

RITTER MAGNET I 69

see the letter he would choose. If he were vain, as very

likely he was, he would write his own initial “I”; if a
toady and flatterer, like most of the people round her
aunt, he would choose “ T,” as the countess’s initial ; and
if he were a silly fool, like so many other men, he would
write “ A.” In either of these cases he would have seen
on the beauty’s face a scornful smile.

Ivan took the piece of coal, and with the point wrote
on the glass the letter “ X.” Both ladies expressed their
astonishment at seeing the coal write, and Countess
Theudelinde assured Ivan it should be preserved care-
fully with her other jewels.

Countess Angela stood so near Ivan that the folds of
her dress touched him.

“T believe,” she said, slowly, “every word you told us.
I beg of you do not tell me that all your romantic de-
scriptions were but the necessary clothing of a dry
scientific subject, meant to make it palatable to your silly,
ignorant audience, and to raise in their minds a wish to
seek further, so that they might in so seeking acquire a
taste for knowledge. I do not want to seek, I believe
implicitly all you said; but of this world of wonder and
miracles I would know more. How far does it go?
What more do you see, for the magician must know
everything ?”

The young countess looked into Ivan’s eyes as she
spoke with a strange magnetic power impossible to re-
sist. Such a look as this had often dazzled men’s brains.

“ You said, also,” continued Angela, “ how fiery and
strong are those who live in this magnetic kingdom, but
that they have no credit for the virtues they possess; it
is due to the working of magnetism. I believe this also.
Magnetism has, however, two poles, the north and the
south pole, I have read that the opposite poles are

170 BLACK DIAMONDS

drawn to one another, and the homogeneous drift asun-
der. If, therefore, in the magnetic kingdom hearts are
drawn to one another, seek one another, love one an-
other, which is an immutable fact, so also is it an im-
mutable fact that there must be human beings who hate
one another with an undying, a deadly hatred, and that
such hatred is no sin. Am [ not right ?”

Ivan felt that he was driven into a corner; he under-
stood the drift of the countess’s question. Here his
knowledge of natural philosophy came to his assistance.

“Tt is true,” he said, “that so far as life upon the
earth is in question, there must also exist antipathies
and sympathies. You have studied magnetism, you have
read of the poles, therefore you must know that there
exists an equator, or line, which is neither north nor
south. This is the magnetic equator, that neither draws
the magnet nor repulses it, and here there is perfect
peace. Just such an equator is found in every human
heart, and however a man may be carried away by the
passions of love or hatred, his line remains unchange-
able, and those who dwell there dwell in peace.”

“And who are the people who live under the mag-
netic equator ?” asked the countess, with curiosity.

“For example, parents and their children should
dwell there.”

The young girl’s face was covered with a vivid blush;
her beautiful eyes shot a battery of lightning glances at
Ivan, who remained quite unmoved under this battery.

“‘We must talk more of this,” she said, with sudden
dignity.

Ivan bowed before the haughty beauty, who turned
and left him to the company of her aunt or of his own
sex. He preferred the latter.

Meantime, the lecture being over, a rush had been

RITTER MAGNET 171

made to the refreshments. The army of outsiders were
the first in the field. If they were of little account else-
where, they took first place at the buffet, and here the
citizen showed distinctly his origin.

Ivan mixed with the company, and conducted himself
as one accustomed to such society, and quite at his ease
in it, and he was well received. The men were very
civil towards him; every man under forty used the
friendly “thou” in addressing him; he was made one
of themselves. It didn’t matter much, as he was said
to be leaving Pesth the next day, and would be lost in
the depths of Mesopotamia. Some one said he came
from Africa. They tried teasing him a bit, all in a
friendly way, and were pleased to find this pedant was
an excellent fellow, who took the joke in good part,
laughed heartily at a well-delivered thrust, and re-
turned it with a sly hit, which never offended any one’s
feelings.

“He is one of us,” they said. “This man is up to
everything ; he is a capital fellow. We must give hima
good time.”

“Is it true that you don’t drink wine?” asked the
Marquis Salista of Ivan.

“Once a year.”

“ And to-day is not the anniversary ?”

“No.”

“Then we have drunk enough for one year ; let us be
moving.”

Some of the men returned to the drawing-room ; these
were, for the most part, the young fellows, and those
who wished to dance. The ladies, after their tea, had
begun to play quadrilles, and even the “Csardas” for
those who wished for it.

Count Stefan, however, drew away the better portion

172 BLACK DIAMONDS

of the men to his quarters, which were on the second
story of the countess’s house. Here he entertained in
his way. His rooms being on the other side of the
house, no noise penetrated to the story below, which
was necessary, as the count’s champagne was of the
very best, and given with no sort of stint; it flowed, in |
fact. Ivan, who was of the party, showed himself in a
new light; he drank wine ; his toasts were spicy, his
anecdotes fresh and amusing, his wit sharp and unre-
strained ; and although he drank freely, he didn’t turn
a hair, he was quite steady.

“Brother,” hiccoughed Count Geza, who towards two
o'clock was half drunk, “ the captain and I have agreed
that when you are quite done up we shall carry you
home and put you to bed; but, my dear friend, my dear
Ritter Magnet, the misery is that I don’t think I can get
up the stairs; I am quite done. Therefore, take your
wings and fly, and let the captain take his, and both of you
flyhome. As for me—” Here the count laid down on
the sofa and fell asleep.

Every one laughed ; but the name he had given Ivan
—Ritter Magnet—stuck to him.

“Do you care to play cards, my learned one?” said
the Marquis Salista.

“Once every three years.”

“That is not often enough.”

The marquis could not at this moment explain why it
was not often enough, for at this moment Count Stefan
acquainted his guests that it was time for them to depart,
seeing that the ball below stairs had broken up, and
every one had gone away. The countess’s rest, therefore,
might be disturbed by any noise overhead. Every one
agreed that this was quite proper.

“Only,” said Salista, ‘there is no need for us to go

RITTER MAGNET 173

home. Let us have the card-table. Let us spend our
time well. Who is for a game?”

Three players soon presented themselves ; Baron Oscar
was one of the first. But the fourth? The captain
called to Ivan.

“ Now, my learned friend.”

Count Stefan thought it necessary to inform the
stranger, who was his guest, that at the tarok-table the
stakes were very high.

“Only a kreuzer the point,” said the captain.

“Yes, but kreuzer points in such a game often amount
to seven or eight hundred gulden to the losing side.
These gentlemen have changed a simple game into a
hazardous venture.”

Ivan laughed. “ Every day of my life I play hazard
with nature itself ; every day I speculate with all I have
on a mere chance, and play only one card.” So saying,
he rolled his chair to the green table.

The game commenced. The game of hazard, as it is
generally played, is a game of chance, it needs only luck
and boldness; a drunken man can almost win by ac-
cident. But as it is played in Pesth it is something
quite different ; what is called luck, chance, accident, is
here allied to skill, prudence, consideration, and bold-
ness. The tarok-player must not only study his cards,
but also the faces of his adversaries. He must be La-
vater and Tartuffe in one; he must be a general who
develops at every moment a fresh plan of campaign, and
a Bosco who can, from the first card that is played,
divine the whole situation ; he must, however, be gener-
ous, and sacrifice himself for the sake of the general
good. Therefore it was that the spectators pitied Ivan
when he sat down to the card-table to play with these
three masters of the game.

174 BLACK DIAMONDS

It was seven o'clock when the players rose from the
card-table. As Ivan pushed back his chair, the marquis
said to him:

“Well, comrade, it is a good thing for the world at
large that you only drink once a year and play cards
once in three years, for if you did both every day there
would be no more wine in Salista’s cellar nor no gold
left in Rothschild’s bank.”

Ivan had, in truth, stripped the three gentlemen.

“ Nevertheless, we must have a parting cup,” con-
tinued Salista. “ Where is the absinthe?” As he spoke
he filled two large glasses with the green, sparkling
spirit, of which moderate people, regretting this pru-
dence, it may be, never drink more than a liqueur glass.

Count Stefan shook his head over what he considered
a bad joke, but Ivan did not shrink from the challenge;
he clinked his glass with that of the captain, and emptied
it without drawing breath. Then, with his most courte-
ous bow, he took leave of his host, Count Stefan, who on
his side assured him it would always be a pleasure to
receive so delightful a guest.

As Ivan made his way into the anteroom his step
was steady, his air composed. Notso the marquis; the
dose had been too potent for him. He insisted upon
claiming Ivan’s astrakhan cap as his, and, as there was
no use arguing the matter with an inebriate, Ivan had
to go home in the military helmet of a hussar officer,
On the staircase the captain maintained that he could
fly, that he was one of the inhabitants of the magnetic
kingdom, and had wings. ‘The others had all the trouble
in the world to get him down the stairs. When he came
to the first floor he thought of paying the Countess
Theudelinde a visit, to thank her for her kind reception
of his lecture, for he was the lecturer, and he was ready

RITTER MAGNET 175

to blow out the brains of any one who contradicted him.
He was with great difficulty got into a facre, and driven
to his hotel. When he got there he had to be carried
to his bed, where he lay in a deep sleep until late in the
following day.

Meantime Ivan, after a short rest, went about as usual,
wrote his letters, and paid some visits.

“ He carries his liquor like a man,” said Count Stefan.
And from this time all the world called him the knight
of the magnet.

The knight was to be met everywhere. He had
numerous visitors; he was invited to the best houses.
He was elected honorary member of the club; he had
been introduced by the abbé. The club had three
classes of members —the day grubs and the evening
and the night birds. In the daytime the library, which
was an excellent collection of rare books, was visited by
all the Zittérateurs of Pesth. From six to eight came the
lawyers and the politicians to play whist and talk poli-
tics, and from eight until midnight the men of fashion
had their innings. In this way two men might go every
day to the club and never meet one another.

Ivan first ransacked the library; then he distributed
his time equally. He thought no more of returning
home. He enjoyed everything and went everywhere,
never missing on the opera nights to pay a visit to the
Countess Theudelinde’s box on the grand tier.

In the second week of his stay the countess gave her
ball. Ivan was invited, and went.

“ Shall you dance?” asked the captain.

“T haven’t done so for fifteen years,”

“Tt suits men of our years to look on,” remarked the
marquis, languidly. “No man dances now after two-
and-thirty.”

176 BLACK DIAMONDS

Looking on was pleasant enough. The nameless grace
and wonderful agility displayed by the aristocratic, fash-
ionable woman was a sight for the gods to admire.
Countess Angela was to-night surpassing fair. She
wore a rose-colored dress, with a body, in the Hungarian
fashion, all studded with pearls; the sleeves were of
lace. She had taken a fancy to dress her hair like the
peasant girls, in two long tresses plaited with ribbons;
it suited her to perfection. But men get tired of every-
thing, even of a sight fit for the gods. After supper one
said to the other:

“Let us make use of our time; the young fellows can
dance; let us play tarok.”

Ivan played cards every day. He played most games
well; he never disputed with his partners. He could
lose with a good grace; when he won was not elated.
When he held bad cards he showed no ill-temper, and
seldom made a mistake. He was looked upon as an
acquisition, and for a savant he was really a useful
man. On this evening he was in exceptionally good-
luck,

Suddenly Count Edmund came into the card-room in
a violent hurry. He said to Ivan:

“Throw down your cards. Angela wishes to dance a
turn of the Hungarian cotillon with you.”

Hungarian cotillon! Strange times, that we should
have a Hungarian court, a Hungarian ministry, Hun-
garian silver and gold coins. That is nothing wonder-
ful ; it is only natural, it is fate, and due to us. Buta
Hungarian cotillon belongs to the day of agitators. We
dance the cotillon to the air of ‘ Csardas.”

Ivan obeyed Angela’s mandate. When he came to
her he bowed low before her.

“You wouldn’t have troubled yourself to come neat

RITTER MAGNET i977

me only I sent for you,” she said, in a tone of gentle
reproach.

“Into the presence of a queen one doesn’t intrude ;
we wait to be summoned.”

“Don’t try and flatter me; if you do like the others
I shall treat you as I do them, and not speak one word
to you. I much prefer your way, although you are al-
ways offending me.”

“IT do not remember to have ever offended you.”

“Because you do nothing else. You know that very
well.”

It was now their turn; they joined the waltzers, and
no one would have guessed that it was fifteen years
since Ivan had danced.

Meantime, in the card-room there was some gossip
over this new whim of the young countess. Count Ed-
mund, as he shuffled the cards, declared his cousin An-
gela was bewitched about this Ritter Magnet.

“ Ah, is that so?” cried the Marquis Salista.

“Don’t you believe him,” interrupted Count Stefan.
“T know our pretty Angela; she is as full of mischief
as a kitten. As soon as she remarks that a man has a
hobby-horse, she makes him ride it, puts it through all its
paces, caracoling, leaping, Aaute école. This is her trick :
once she knows the subject which interests a man, she
talks of it with such an earnest face, such sympathetic
eyes; and when he has left her, charmed at her intelli-
gence, her sweetness, she ridicules the unfortunate devil.
This is the way she treated poor Sondersheim, a very
brave young fellow, who has only one fault, that he wor-
ships Angela, and she abhors him. She laughs at ev-
erybody.”

“That is true; but she praises Ivan, not to his face,
but behind his back to me, and not because he is a man

178 BLACK DIAMONDS

of science, a geologist, but because he is such a brave
man.”

“That is another of her tricks; the artful puss knows
right well that the praise which comes at third-hand is
the sweetest of all flattery.”

“T take good care not to repeat one word to Ivan.”

“There you show him real friendship,” remarked Sa-
lista, laughing.

In the ball-room the dancers had returned to their
places.

“You were ready to leave Pesth,’ Angela was saying,
with a charming pout. “You needn’t deny it; the
abbé told me.”

“Since then circumstances have detained me longer
than I expected,” returned Ivan, coolly.

“ Have you got a family at home ?”

“‘T have no one belonging to me in the world.”

“ And why have you not?”

This was a searching question.

“Perhaps you already know what my business is. I
have a colliery; I work with the miners, and spend my
day underground.”

“ Ah, that explains everything,” said Angela, regard-
ing him with tender sympathy. “Now I understand
that you are indeed right. It would be terrible to con-
demn a woman to the sufferings a miner’s wife must en-
dure. What can be more terrible than to take leave of
her husband each morning, not knowing whether they
will ever meet again; to know he is in the depths of
the earth while she breathes the fresh air of heaven; to
fancy her beloved is perhaps buried alive, and she can-
not hear his cries for help ; that even if it is not so, that
he is surrounded by a deadly atmosphere, that it only
needs a spark to become a hell, in which her darling

RITTER MAGNET 179

would be lost to her forever? I can understand how a
woman’s heart would break under such a daily agony;
even to her child she would say, ‘Do not run so fast,
else a stone may fall on your father’s head and kill
him.’” Then, with a sudden change of expression, An-
gela turned angrily to Ivan. “ But why do you stay
down in the mine like a common miner ?”

“Because it is my element, as the battle-field is that of
the soldier, the sea of the sailor, the desert of the trav-
eller. It is with me as it is with them—a passion. I
love the mysterious darkness of the world underground,”

The warmth with which Ivan spoke these words
kindled an answering enthusiasm in his listener.

“Every passion is absorbing,” she said, “ especially
the passion for creation and for destruction. I under-
stand how a woman would follow a man she loved, not
only to the field, but into the battle itself, although the
art of war has now become a very prosaic and second-
class affair, and has lost every trace of idealism. I con-
fess, however, the heroism of the miner is to me incom-
prehensible. A man who occupies himself with dead,
cold stones is to me like that Prince Badrul-Buder in
the ‘Arabian Nights,’ who was turned into a stone, and
whose wife preferred a living slave to her marble hus-
band. I prefer those who penetrate to unknown regions
of the globe, and I could envy the wife of Sir Samuel
Baker, who travelled by his side all through the deserts
of South Africa, holding in one hand a pistol, while the
other hand was clasped in that of her husband. To-
gether they bore the burning heat, together repulsed the
savage wild beasts. Hand in hand they appeared be-
fore the King of Morocco, and what the arm of the hus-
band failed to procure was given to the charms of the
wife, I can place myself in the position of this woman,

180 BLACK DIAMONDS

who, alone and deserted in the Mangave wood, sat
through the livelong night with the head of the wounded
traveller on her lap and a loaded pistol beside her. To
heal his wounds she ventured into the woods and found
herbs ; for his food she contrived to cook in the desert.
She did this for the only man she loved, whose only love
she is and has ever been. Her name is known and
revered in every place where Europeans have pene-
trated.”

Again they had to join the circle of dancers, and when
they returned to their place Angela resumed the conver-
sation :

“What I said just now was sheer nonsense; the whole
thing was the outcome of despicable vanity. A misera-
ble idea to travel through countries where a woman is
hardly to be distinguished from a beast, and that be-
cause she walks upright; where the ideal of beauty is to
have the upper lip bored into a big hole, so that when
laughing the nose is visible—ridiculous! And then to
be proud because she was the most beautiful woman,
and her husband perforce was faithful to her. A great
thing, indeed, to be the queen of beauty amid mon-
sters of ugliness! No, no; I know of something better,
far bolder. A woman, Fraulein Christian, has accom-
plished a journey alone on horseback all across the
steppes of Asia. What if a man and a woman had the
courage to penetrate through the Polenia Canal to the
warm seas discovered by Kane? or if a man and a
woman had the courage to cast anchor in the regions of
the north pole, and to the inhabitants of that magnetic
kingdom boldly say, ‘Compare yourselves with us; we
are handsomer, stronger, more faithful, happier than
you are’? That would be a triumph; and such a jour
ney I would willingly undertake.”

RITTER MAGNET 181

As she said these words, Angela’s eyes gleamed
upon Ivan with the splendor of the aurora borealis,
Ivan decided within himself upon a sudden experiment.

“Countess, if you have the passion or desire to visit
strange worlds, and to excite the benighted inhabitants
to a proper emulation for something better, truer, more
intellectual than that they have hitherto known, if this
is really your laudable wish, I can recommend to your
notice a country equally in need of such enlightenment,
and infinitely nearer to you.”

“What is it?”

“It is Hungary.”

“ But are we not in Hungary already?”

“Countess, you are in it, but not of it. You are
merely visiting us. You do not know what and who we
are. You need not go so far as the poles or Abyssinia ;
here is a new world open to you, a large field where
your passion for creating and improving can be easily
gratified.”

Angela opened her fan, and with an air of indiffer-
ence fanned her white bosom.

“What can do? ‘I am not my own mistress.”

“You are not your own mistress, and, nevertheless,
you rule.”

“Over whom ?”

“Countess, it would only need one word from you to
bring the green palace and all it contains from Vienna to
Pesth. The society here requires that leading person-
ality which now in Vienna is lost among the crowd,
whose existence is spent in aimless inaction. Pesth
needs the prince, your grandfather. He adores you.
One word from you would give to our life a new being;
one word from you and Prince Theobald would reside
here,”

182 BLACK DIAMONDS

Angela ceased fanning herself; with an angry gesture
she folded her hands, and turned an angry look upon
Ivan.

“Do you know that the subject you have just men-
tioned is so distasteful to me that any one who has vent-
ured to name it to me has forfeited my acquaintance ?”

“T am quite aware of the fact, countess.”

“ And why have you dared to approach the subject?”

“TJ will tell you, countess. Because of an old con-
nection between our families,”

“Ah, that is something quite new. I have never
heard of it.”

“Possibly not. One of your ancestors was a cardinal,
and one of mine was a minister in Patak—a great
difference in their relative positions, no doubt; and this
difference had a terrible result for my ancestor, The
cardinal condemned him to the galleys for life. The
minister had, however, only one word to speak, as the
cardinal told him, and he would be free. That word
was abrenuncio— I renounce,’ or ‘recant.’ He would
not say the word, however, and so he went to the gal-
leys. As they were putting round his neck the iron
collar, from which the chains hang which fasten the
slave to his bench, your ancestor, the cardinal, who was
not a hard-hearted man, with tears in his eyes entreated
my ancestor to say the word ‘abrenuncio.’ The minis-
ter, however, not only refused, but called out ‘Non
abrenuncio.’ Inthe same manner I now stand opposite
to you and repeat the same words—‘ Non abrenuncio.’
This is the rafport between us. Would you treat me
as the cardinal did my ancestor ?”

Countess Angela tapped her fan upon her knee as she
whispered between her small. white teeth, and with a
cruel smile upon her lips:

RITTER MAGNET 183

“ What a pity that those days are past! If I were in
the place of my ancestor I would order you to have iron
goads driven under your nails.”

At this formidable threat Ivan burst out laughing.
After a minute Angela followed his example and
laughed also.

It was rather a bold experiment to meet the young
beauty’s wrath with a burst of laughter, but it was a
good answer to her foolish speech. The countess felt
now that she had given cause for laughter; but she was
offended, nevertheless, and with a haughty look at the
offender she seated herself.

Ivan did not move from her side. A cotillon, even
though it be the “ Hungarian,” has its uses. One
partner cannot leave the other if they wish to sep-
arate.

In the meantime a young man, one of the stupid per-
sons of society, came to Ivan and whispered in his ear
that Edmund sent him to say he should return to his
game ; the luck had changed, and the heap of gold Ivan
had left was lost.

“Tell him he has done well,” returned Ivan; and he
took his pocket-book from his breast-pocket and handed
it to the messenger. “ Tell him to make use of what is
in this,” he said, “and lose it, if necessary.” And he
remained where he was.

Angela never turned her head to him again. The
cotillon lasted a long time; Count Geza, who led it,
wished to show that the Hungarian presented as many
opportunities for new figures as the German cotillon,
and the demonstration lasted two hours. Ivan remained
to the end, although Angela preserved her cold silence.
When they had to join in the waltz circle she leaned on
his shoulder, her fingers pressed his, her breath touched

184 BLACK bDiAMONDS

his face ; when she returned to her place she resumed
her coldness, and kept her head steadily averted.

When the cotillon was over Edmund brought Ivan
the news that this long dance had cost him a thousand
gulden, Ivan shrugged his shoulders, as if the loss
didn’t concern him,

“Wonderful man!” thought Edmund. Presently he
said to his cousin :

“Tt seems that you kept Ritter Magnet all to yourself,
my pretty cousin.’

Angela raised her white shoulder to him, while she
said, angrily :

“ This man has bored me for a long time.”

From the moment that these words were spoken by
the queen of fashion a marked change took place in the
opinion of the world as to Ivan’s merits. He was no
longer considered a capital fellow, but was looked upon
as a pushing farvenu. Angela said nothing more, but.
this one sentence conveyed much. There are men of
low origin whose own vanity misinterprets the true mean-
ing of the condescension shown to them by those above
them in station, and by so doing make terrible mistakes
which must be punished. Such bold parvenus must be
taught to curb their wishes. Ivan was counted as one
of these. The foolish man had imagined that a high-
born lady, a Bondavara, because she was patriotic, would,
forsooth, stoop to such as he; he had mistaken her
graciousness for the encouragement she might give to
one of her own class. He must be ostracized, and that
speedily.

The signal had been given by those words of the
countess’s: “ He has for a long time bored me.” The
first means taken under such circumstances is to make
the offender ridiculous. This can be done in different

RITTER MAGNET 185

ways. The victim remarks that his weak points are held
up, that he is never left in peace, that he is perpetually
placed in situations which are arranged to make him a
laughing-stock. Not that any one is rude enough to
laugh at him openly; on the contrary, they are most
polite to him, but it is a politeness that provokes laugh-
ter. He soon finds that no one is his friend, no one
makes any intimacy with him, although no one actually
insults him; but if he is a man of any intelligence he
soon feels that he is not one of the society, and that his
best part will be to take his hat and go.

This happened now to Ivan, but his habitual phlegm
did not desert him; he understood the situation, and
was determined to stand his ground to the bitter end.
He was invited to take part in an amateur opera, made
up of most aristocratic personages ; it was done on pur-
pose to subject him to a mortification, He was given
the vd/e of the “ King.” He made a sensation; his voice
was a fine, melodious bass. Angela was the “ Elvira”;
Salista, “ Ernani”; but the “ King” was the favorite.

“The devil is in the man,” growled the marquis.
“ He has been an actor, I’ll bet.”

On another occasion he was invited to a fox-hunt at
Count Stefan’s splendid hunting-seat near Pesth. The
élite of the country round gathered at these hunts, which
took place in the beginning of the season. It was ar-
ranged that Ivan should be mounted on a fiery Arabian.
This was considered a great joke. It would be such fun
to see the quiet book-worm in the saddle; he would have
to cling on, for the Arabian would hardly allow his
owner to ride. It would be rare sport. But here was
another disappointment ; Ivan sat the fiery racer as if he
had grown in the saddle. When Salista saw him mounted,
he muttered between his teeth:

186 BLACK DIAMONDS

“The devil is in the fellow. I would take a bet he
has been a hussar.”

Countess Angela took part in the first run at Count
Stefan’s. She sat her horse splendidly; she was quite
at home in the field.

About ten sportsmen drew the first cover; the hounds
had the fox out of the bushes, and the cavalcade rode
after Renard, who took his course over a slope of a hill,
which was divided by a cleft in the rock, at the bottom
of which ran a mountain stream. The fox took refuge in
this cleft; he probably thought he might find there an
empty fox-hole, into which he might sneak. In any case
he might escape by the skin of his teeth, as the horses
could not venture to follow him. It was a chance, for if
the dogs hunted him out of the burrow he could make
tracks by the right-hand side. The hunt was on the left.

“Forward!” cried the daring Countess Angela, and
put her horse to leap the cleft.

It was a breakneck jump. How many will risk their
lives to follow her? When she reached the other side
she turned and looked back. Ivan was beside her. The
dogs pursued the fox, who had taken to the stream; the
rest of the hunt galloped along the left side of the chasm.
Angela thought as little about them as they did of her.
In every one’s mind there was only one idea—the fox.
The countess rode at the very edge of the chasm, taking
no heed of the dizzy height she was on and the danger-
ous depths into which one false step of her horse might
precipitate her. She followed poor Renard, who was
seeking an outlet, distracted as he was by his pursuers.
Suddenly he rushed out through the riders on the left
bank and took to the woods.

“After him! Tally ho!” resounded along the hill-
side, and soon fox, dogs, and horsemen were lost to

RITTER MAGNET 187

Angela’s sight. At once she turned her horse’s bridle ;
she made for a short-cut through the mountain, over
which she meant to jump her horse, and so join the
hunt without loss of time. She never looked back to
see if Ivan followed her, but galloped up the steep
mountain-side, sitting her horse in splendid style. At
the turn of the path a hare suddenly broke from the
cover under the horse’s feet. The animal shied, and
swerved violently to one side, throwing the countess out
of the saddle. In the fall the long skirt of her habit got
entangled in the saddle and kept her fastened to the
horse. Her head hung, with all] her hair streaming on
the ground. The frightened horse ran towards the
crevice ; if he dragged his rider down its side her head
would be battered to pieces by the trunks of the ‘trees.
Ivan fortunately caught his bridle in time. He freed
the foolhardy rider from the saddle; she was uncon-
scious. Ivan laid her upon the soft turf, and pillowed
her head upon the stump of a moss-grown tree. Then
he saw how the fall had disarranged her dress. The
malachite buttons had come off the body of her habit,
and the bodice was treacherously open. Ivan drew
from his necktie his breast-pin, and with it closed the
countess’s corselet.

When Angela came to herself she was alone. Both
the horses were tied to a tree by their bridles. In the
distance through the gathering mist she saw a man com-
ing towards her from the valley below. It was Ivan,
who had gone to fill his hunting-flask with water. The
countess rose at once to her feet ; she needed no help.
Ivan offered her the water ; she thanked him, but said
she was quite herself. Ivan threw the water away.

“T think it would be well if you were to return to the
castle.”

188 BLACK DIAMONDS

“ T will do so.”

“Tt is not far. I know a short way through the wood.
We can lead the horses.”

“Very well,” returned the countess, submissively.
But when she looked at her dress and saw how it was
fastened a hot blush covered her face. When she was
in the shade of the wood she turned to Ivan, and said,
suddenly, “ Have you ever heard of Julia Gonzaga ?”

** No, countess.”

“She was the Chatelaine of Fondi. Barbarossa had
surprised Fondi in the night and carried off Julia. A
noble knight came to her rescue, and she escaped with
him from the freebooter. It was in the night, and she
had to ride barefooted, for she had just risen from her
couch. Do you know how she rewarded her deliverer? —
She stabbed him through the heart with the first dagger
that came to her hand.”

“And she did right,” returned Ivan. “A strange
man should not have seen her naked feet.”

“ And the man?” asked Angela.

“ Ah, poor fellow! he had the misfortune of enjoying
too much happiness.”

CHAPTER XIII

ONLY A TRIFLE

Tue fox was taken. Out of the far distance a trium-
phant “ Halali !” was heard, and then the horn sounded
to collect the scattered members of the hunt. Countess
Angela and her escort were by this time at the border
of the wood. Ivan sounded his horn in answer to the
summons, and to show the others that they were already
on their way home. They arrived at the castle a quar-
ter of an hour before the rest of the company. Then
they separated, and did not meet again until supper-
time. The huntsmen spent the interval talking over the
day’s exploits, and the ladies were occupied with their
toilettes.

Countess Angela told her aunt what had happened.
She was incapable of any sort of deceit. Lies, which
come so easily to the lips of some women, were impos-
sible to her. If she did not tell a thing she kept silent ;
but to speak what was not true—never! But what if
Ivan related to the men what had occurred? It was so
much the habit to talk over the day’s sport, and make
a jest of everything. Why should he not make capital
of such an adventure —a rescued lady—a beauty in
déshabille? ‘

When supper - time came it struck every one that the
countess had a constrained manner, and closer observers
noticed that she avoided looking at Ivan. She was

190 BLACK DIAMONDS

dressed all in black, which was, perhaps, the reason
that she was so pale. She was silent and preoccupied ;
she was wondering if they all knew what Ivan knew.
The gentlemen tried to amuse her. They were full of
the day’s run, how the fox had doubled, how they
thought they would never catch him, how they regretted
that the countess had not been present, how unfortu-
nate it was that she had been on the opposite side of
the mountain, but that it was far better for her to have
lost the run than to have ventured to leap the crevice.
That would, indeed, have been madness; an accident
would certainly have been the result. No one alluded
to the fact that she had met an ugly one; but, then, well-
bred people never do allude to anything unpleasant,
which, though otherwise agreeable, has this drawback,
that one never knows how much or how little they
know.

It was a remark of her cousin Edmund that convinced
Angela eventually that Ivan had kept his own counsel
as to her accident.

“Did Behrend accompany you to the house?” he
asked. (No one now called him Ritter Magnet, nor
were there any familiar jokes with him).

“Ves.”

* And his escort was not agreeable to you ?”

“What makes you say that?” inquired Angela,
hastily.

“From Ivan’s manner ; he seems terribly down in his
luck. He hasn’t a word to say to a dog, and he avoids
looking at you. Don’t you remark it? You have, I
think, made the place too hot for him ; he won’t stay
longer. Have I guessed right?”

“Ves, quite right.”

“ Shall I give him a hint to go?”

ONLY A TRIFLE 191

“Do, for my sake; but without harshness. I will not
have him offended.”

“Do you think Iam such a bungler? I have an ex-
cellent plan to get him away quietly.”

“You must tell me what it is. I am not vexed with
the man, only he bores me. Do you understand? I
won’t have him driven away by any of you; but if he
goes by his own free choice, I should be glad if he were
at the antipodes.”

“ Well, I have no objection to tell you what I mean to
do. This man is a scholar, a philosopher, as you know.
He holds very different opinions from us who live in the
world. For one thing, he abhors duelling. Don’t spoil
your pretty face by frowning. I am not going to call
him out, neither is any one else, so far as I know; that
would be a stupid joke. But this evening, in the smok-
ing-room, Salista and I will get up a dispute about some
trifle or another; the end of it will be a challenge. I
will ask Behrend and Geza to be my seconds. Now,
what will happen? If Behrend refuses, which is most
likely, he will have to withdraw from our party—that is
the etiquette—and we will have nothing more to say to
him. If, on the contrary, he accepts, then the other
seconds will manage to fall out about the arrangements
of our meeting—Salista’s and mine—and the regular
consequence of such a falling out is that the seconds
challenge one another; then our philosopher packs up
his traps, thanks us for our hospitality, goes back to
brew his gas. He doesn't fight, not he; for I hold that,
although it is within the bounds of possibility that even
a philosopher, if deeply insulted, may have recourse to
his pistol to punish the offender, yet, when it is a matter
of pure, worldly etiquette, it is only your born gentleman
who will stand up in a duel.”

192 BLACK DIAMONDS

“But suppose he does consent to fight this duel ?”

“Then my plot has failed. We should then have a
sort of court-martial, and it would have to decide that
no offence was meant and none given. We would all
shake hands, and the little comedy would be at an
end.”

Angela yawned, as if weary of the subject. “ Do as
you like,” she said. “But take care. This man can
show his teeth; he can bite.”

“‘ Leave that to me.”

That evening at supper the conversation was pur-
posely turned on duelling, for the purpose of convincing
Angela that Ivan’s views on the subject were sound as
regarded his own safety. The opportunity offered, for
the latest event in fashionable life was a duel, in which
the only son of a well-known and distinguished family
had lost his life for some silly dispute about a trifle.

“T hold the duel to be not merely a mistake, but a
crime,” said Ivan. “It is flying in the face of God to
take the law into our own hands. The Ze Deum which
the conqueror sings over his murderous act is a dis-
grace; it cries to Heaven for vengeance. ‘lhe appeal
to weapons as satisfaction is likewise an offence against
society, for it hinders the possibility of telling the truth.
The man who tells us our faults openly to our face is a
benefactor, but by the present laws of society we are
bound to challenge him, and to kill him if we can; we
have no other course, so it must be false compliments or
the duello.”

Edmund continued the discussion. “I take a differ-
ent view of the matter,” he said. “If duelling were not
a law of society it would be in a sense a denial of God’s
mercy, for if you look at it in this way it cannot be de-
nied that one man is weak, another man strong, and that

ONLY A TRIFLE . 193

this is a decree of Providence. The result of this differ-
ence in many instances would be that the weaker would
be the slave of the stronger, who could box his ears, in-
sult him, and all the law would give him would be, per-
haps, a couple of pounds. This chasm between the law
of God and the law of man is filled by the pistol-ball,
which puts the strong and the weak on the same level.
The pistol is not a judge, for it often decides the cause
unjustly. Nevertheless, this unwritten law, and the re-
spect, not to say fear, it infuses, has a salutary effect, and
makes it impossible for the bully to tyrannize over a man
of more education but less physical strength.

“ But that it should be so is a crime of society,” an-
swered Ivan. “A false sentiment of honor has dictated
this law. The world has no right to make such a rule;
it should honor those equally, be they poor or rich, well-
born or humble, who keep the law of the land as it is
constituted. But what does society do? If a gentle-
man gets a box on the ear from another, and does not
immediately demand satisfaction for the insult, and,
nolens volens, make himself a target to be shot at by
perhaps a better marksman than himself, what happens?
He is at once dishonored ; society ostracizes him. The
world, if it pretend to any justice in the matter, should
reform this absurd principle, and punish the man who
has given the first offence. Then society, and not a
leaden ball, would be judge.”

“That is all very fine in theory, my dear sir; but
I ask you, as a man of honor, to put yourself in the
position in which, for some reason or another, you find
it necessary to have satisfaction for an affront.”

“T could not imagine myself placed in any such posi-
tion,” Ivan answered, quietly. “I offend no one inten-
tionally, and should I do so inadvertently, I would at

13

194 BLACK DIAMONDS

once apologize. I give no man the opportunity to as-
perse my honor, and if he were foolish enough to do so
I would call upon those who know, and I should deem
myself indeed unfortunate if they did not clear me of
any such accusation.”

“But suppose the honor of some one near and dear
to you were attacked ?”

“T have no one who stands to me in that close re-
lationship.” '

This last remark cut short the discussion. Never-
theless, before many hours had passed the Marquis
Salista proved to Ivan that there was one person whose
good name was dear to him.

It was at supper, and Angela was present. The mar-
quis was entertaining her with anecdotes of the revolu-
tion, in which he had taken part. He was bragging
fearfully that when he was lieutenant of the cuirassiers
he performed prodigies. At the battle of Izsasseg, with
only a handful of men, he routed the entire regiment
of Lehel Hussars, and at Alt Gzoney he cut the Wilhelm
Hussars to pieces, and didn’t spare a man.

Not a feature in Ivan’s face moved. He listened
silently to these wonderful tales. Angela at last grew
weary of all this boasting and glorification of the Austri-
ans over the degraded Hungarians; she turned to Ivan,
and put to him a direct question :

“Ts this all true?”

Ivan shrugged his shoulders. “ What can I, a poor
miner who lives underground, know of what goes on on
the surface of the great earth?” |

Angela need not have anxiety about him. He is a phi-
losopher, and there is no fear he will go too near the fire.

After supper the company separated; Count Stefan,
with Countess Theudelinde and some other ladies, went

‘ONLY A TRIFLE 195

into the drawing-room. The moon shone through the
bow-windows. The countess played the piano, and
Angela came and spoke to Ivan,

“Here is your pin,” she said. “You know the old
superstition—a present of sharp-pointed instruments
dissolves friendship, and those who wish to be friends
never give them ?”

“ But,” answered Ivan, smiling, “‘ the superstition pro-
vides an antidote which breaks the spell. Both friends
must laugh over the present.”

“ Ah, that is why you laughed when I spoke of the
iron goads.. There, take back your pin, and let us Jaugh
for superstition’s sake !”

And they laughed together, because it was a super-
stition so to do. Then Angela went out on the bal-
cony, and took counsel from the soft air of the summer’s
evening ; she leaned over the balustrade, waiting for
Count Edmund, who had promised to bring her the first
news of how the plot had worked.

The gentlemen stayed late in the smoking-room; the
night is their time for enjoying themselves, so Angela
had a long vigil. The moon had long disappeared be-
hind the high tops of the poplar-trees before Angela
heard Edmund’s step coming through the drawing-room
to the bow-window. The ladies were still playing the
piano; they could talk unreservedly.

“ Well, what has happened ?” asked Angela.

Edmund was agitated. “Our trifle has turned out a
rank piece of folly,” he said, crossly.

“ How?”

“T should not tell you, Angela, but the situation is
such that it would be wrong to coriceal anything from
you. We had it all arranged just as I told you. When
we were in the smoking-room we began to play our

196 BLACK DIAMONDS

practical joke. Some one said how pleased you seemed
to be with Hungary—”

“Oh, how stupid of you!” said Angela, angrily.

“TI know now it was a stupid thing to do. I wish I
had seen it before; but it always happens the knowl-
edge comes too late.”

““What business had you, or any one, to mention my
name? I gave no permission to have it done.”

“T know, I know; but in men’s society, unfortunately,
no one asks a lady’s permission to mention her name.
It was only a joke. It had been settled among us that
I, being your cousin, should protest against this chatter
in connection with your name; then Salista was to say
that he knew well that what kept you in Pesth was the
fine eyes of a certain gentleman, that I was to get angry,
and forbid him to say any more, and that then we should
get up the mock duel.”

Angela was trembling with anger, but, anxious to hear
more, she controlled herself with difficulty.

“T never heard such a childish joke,” she said. “It
was a college trick.”

“Tt would have been good for us all if it had ended
like a college trick. When I told you that we had pre-
pared a trick you approved of it, Angela; you know
you did. None of us thought for a moment that it
would end as it has done. Behrend was sitting at the
chess-table ; Salista was opposite to him, leaning against
the chimney-piece. After Salista had said the words,
‘I know that a certain pair of eyes keeps Countess An-
gela in Pesth,’ and before I had time to make the an-
swer agreed upon, Ivan threw down the gauntlet. ‘That
is a lie!’ he said.”

“ Ah!” cried Angela, while an electric thrillran through
her veins,

ONLY A TRIFLE 197

“We all sprang to our feet ; the joke had ended bad-
ly. Salista grew pale; he had not counted upon this.
‘Sir,’ he said to Behrend, ‘take back that word of
yours; it is a word that in my life no man has said
to me.’”’

“And Behrend?” asked Angela, seizing Edmund’s
hand.

“Behrend stood up from the table, and answered
quietly, in a cold voice, ‘It is possible that up to the
present you have given no occasion for this reproach to
be cast in your face; but to-night I repeat that you have
lied.’ Then he left the room. I ran after him to try
and smooth down matters. I met him in the hall. He
turned to me and said, quietly, ‘My dear friend, you
know what must now happen. I beg that you will ask
Count Geza in my name, and that you and he will be
my seconds. You will communicate to me what has
been settled; all is in your hands.’ In this way he in-
vited me to play the part which I had destined for him.
Now he is the duellist, and I am the second. I tried to
drive him into a corner. I represented to him that it
was not his right to throw down the gauntlet for the
Countess Angela. He answered, ‘It is the right and
the duty of every gentleman to protect the lady whose
guest he is.’ This answer, from a chivalrous point of
view, is perfectly correct, but it sounds strangely from
the lips of the man who a couple of hours ago told us
there was no one in the world for whose good name he
would fight a duel.”

Angela sank back in her chair. “Oh, what terrible
folly it has all been!” she wailed. “No, no, this duel
cannot be! I shall prevent it!”

“T wish you would tell me what means you intend to
take to prevent it,”

198 BLACK DIAMONDS

“T will at once speak with Ivan Behrend—this mo-
ment; do you hear ?” ,

“ Unfortunately, that is impossible. When he left me
he gave the order to put his horses to. There, you hear
those wheels? That is his carriage. Geza has gone
with him, and we four are to follow him presently. One
cannot arrange this sort of thing in a strange house;
that is done only on the stage. The principals must
wait in their own houses to hear what we have decided
to do.”

“But, my God! Iwill not let it be done; do you
hear? I will speak to Uncle Stefan.”

“T have told you everything, so that our sudden de-
parture should not surprise you; but I can tell you
exactly what Count Stefan will say—that no fuss must
be made; let the whole thing be done quickly and
quietly. The seconds, too, must act with great pru-
dence, and not irritate the principals by much delay.”

“What do you mean by saying the seconds should
act with prudence ?”

“So far as depends upon them they must determine
the issue of the duel, and either soften or accentuate
the conditions according to circumstances. In this case
we will soften. Your name will not appear as the cause
of the challenge. We will induce Behrend to say that
he used the word ‘lie’ in connection with Salista’s ex-
pressions concerning the Hungarian troops. ‘This plau-
sible ground fora challenge will be accepted as sufficient
by both sides, and in this way your name need never be
mentioned.”

“But I do not care! What does that matter? If
any one is killed for my sake—”

“Compose yourself, my dear cousin ; the seconds will
be prudent. We shall place them thirty feet apart, and

ONLY A TRIFLE 199

give them worn-out pistols with which, at half the dis-
tance, the aim would be uncertain; then we shall not
allow them to take aim more than a minute, and you
may be certain if they were both as thick as an elephant
and protected like robin red-breasts they couldn’t be
safer; they may fire away for hours and never hit one
another. Now, my dear child, be sensible, I beg of you.
When you have a husband he will have many an affair
of this kind upon his hands, and all for your beautiful
eyes. But I must be going, the carriage is at the door, -
and we start at daylight.” 3

And Edmund took himself off with a hasty good-bye.

This little joke had spoiled all the sport. The loss of
six men made it impossible to continue hunting the next
day ; therefore every one resolved to return to Pesth in
the morning. The night was disturbed. The com-
panion of the Countess Angela, who slept in her room,
told every one that her mistress had hardly slept a wink,
that she was constantly getting up and lighting the
candle, saying that it must be daylight and time to set
off for the city.

The next morning, at ten o’clock, when all the guests
had left, and Countess Theudelinde and her suite were
already in Pesth, Countess Angela went to her room,
and walked up and down restlessly until about eleven
o’clock, when Count Edmund was announced.

He came in pale and disturbed, and Angela, who tried
to read his face, concluded that something had hap-
pened.

“In God’s name, what is it?” she asked. ‘“ Who is
hurt?”

“No one,” replied Edmund, dryly; “ but the affair is
in a worse state than it was.”

“ Has the duel taken place ?”

200 BLACK DIAMONDS

“Ves and no. It has begun, but is not finished.”

“TI do not understand.”

“T own it is something quite new. I have never
known such a thing in my experience. If you wish, I
will tell you all about it.”

“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, do!”

“ As agreed, I called at Behrend’s house at six o’clock
to fetch him; Geza went on with the doctor. When we
got to Lassloosky, Salista was just getting out of his
carriage. Ivan lifted his cap and wished him good-
morning; he probably did not know that this is not
usual. The principals never greet one another. Salista
did not return his bow, although he might have done so,
seeing that Ivan was evidently ignorant of the proper
etiquette. From Lassloosky we all drove together to
Leopold’s Field, where we got out of the carriages and
went on foot through the forest. When we reached the
appointed place, a clearing in the wood, we stopped, and
the seconds on both sides asked the principals, according
to precedent, whether they would not make up their dif-
ference. Both sides refused. Upon which we measured
the distance, marked the barrier with our pocket-hand-
kerchiefs, and loaded the pistols. When this was over,
the principals, who had been pulling blades of grass and
standing about, took their places. We handed them
their pistols ; the signal was given by Geza clapping his
hands. Salista made two steps forward and shot. Just
as I expected, he did not hit his man. Ivan called out in
a loud voice, ‘ To the barrier!’ and Salista advanced to
where the white pocket-handkerchief lay, while Ivan went
to his barrier. Then he said, addressing Salista, ‘You
did not return my salutation, but if I hit your head-piece
you will have to take off your cap to me.’ He then took
aim; the half-minute during which he held his pistol

ONLY A TRIFLE 201

showed us his nerve was perfect. The pistol went off,
and Salista stood opposite his adversary bareheaded; his
helmet lay two perches behind him, with the gold rose
torn from its front.”

“ Ah!” cried Angela.

“This man shoots as well as Robin Hood. We
loaded the pistols again, because, according to the agree-
ment, they were to have three shots each.”

“Three shots!” exclaimed Angela.

“Yes. We all agreed it was better to have the affair
on a proper footing, so far as the conditions went. Thirty
steps is a great distance ; besides, the pistols were bad.
In addition, both men were wrapped up to the chin; one
had a black coat, the other a dark gray military cloak—
colors bad for hitting; and both had their shirt-collars
concealed. There was not a point about either that
would serve for a target. But the cap business had
changed the nature of the whole affair, and made much
bad blood. It proved, for one thing, that Behrend was
a first-rate shot, and this put Salista’s military spirit on
its metal. The barriers were withdrawn for the second
shot. Salista took off his gray cloak, tied back his hussar
jacket, so that his red waistcoat and white shirt stood
out clear, and instead of standing, as is usual in a duel,
with one side to your adversary, he presented to him a
full front, and this with red and white, the best colors,
as every one knows, fora mark, Yes, and while we were
loading the pistols, what do you think he did? But
Salista is a madman when he is roused! He took his
cigar-case out of his pocket, and lighted one to show his
indifference. For the second time it was his turn to
begin. He took much more pains than the first time; in
fact, he was such a time taking aim that we had to call
‘to him to shoot. Again he missed. The leaves of the

202 BLACK DIAMONDS

branches under which Ivan stood fell upon his head;
the ball had gone into the tree.”

Angela shuddered.

“Tyan now addressed his opponent. ‘ Sir,’ he said,
‘it is not fitting that at such a supreme moment as this
you should smoke a cigar,’ Salista made no answer,
but stood fronting Behrend ; his face was slightly turned
to one side, and he blew clouds of smoke into the air.
Ivan raised his pistol for a second, took deliberate aim,
then a sharp report, and Salista’s cigar flew from his
mouth into space.”

An involuntary smile spread over Angela’s lips, but it
was gone in an instant, and her face resumed its im-
movable expression, as if cut out of stone.

Count Edmund went on. “In a fury Salista threw
his pistol upon the ground. ‘The devil take me,’ he
cried, stamping with rage, ‘if I shoot any more with this
man! He is Beelzebub in person. He has shot the
cap from my head, the cigar from my mouth, and the
third time he will shoot the spurs from my boots. He
shoots all round me; he is like a Chinese juggler. I
will not shoot any more with him; that’s flat!’ His
seconds in vain tried to persuade "him; he would not
listen to them; he was furious; he would hear nothing.
He wasn’t going to be such a fool as to stand up there
to be a mark for a second William Tell, who would not
only shoot the apple from his head, but aim right at his
heart. If they wanted to have a fair fight, with all his
heart—but let it be with swords; then one would see
who was the best man. We all talked to him, told him
not to play the fool, that he must stand his adversary’s
fire no matter where he was shot, in his spur or his head.
The duellist has no power to refuse ; he is in the hands
of his seconds, At last Behrend got curious to know

ONLY A TRIFLE 203

what the row was about; he called to me and Geza,
and we had to tell him that Salista would not stand
another shot, but had demanded that the duel should
be decided by swords. To our surprise Ivan answered,
coolly, ‘With all my heart. Give us the sabres.’ ‘Do
you consent?’ ‘I consent to fight with scythes if he
wishes.’ So it was agreed. Salista’s seconds heard this
discussion with great satisfaction; they were very much
put out by his outbreak, it being quite unusual to
change the weapons in a duel; and there would have
been a regular scandal if Ivan had used his right of re-
fusing any such alteration in the conditions under which
the duel was to be fought.”

“And you have allowed such an innovation to be
made?” said Angela, looking at her cousin with con-
tracted eyebrows.

“Certainly, when the challenger has agreed to it.”

“Tt was shameful of you!” Angela continued, with
suppressed tears in her voice—‘“ ungenerous to allow
such an unequal fight. One man has practised fencing
all his life; it is his profession; the other has never had
a sword in his hand.”

“The fight will be drawn at the first blood,” said Ed-
mund, in a soothing voice.

“ But you had no right to agree to such a bloodthirs-
ty idea; you have overstepped your duty as second.
You should have said to Salista’s seconds that the af-
fair should conclude then or never.”

“That is quite true; and we should have done so,
only Behrend chose to interfere.”

“You should not have allowed it; you could have
stopped it. When does the duel take place ?”

“ As we had no swords we could not fight this morn-
ing. It is against the law to have a duel in the after-

204 BLACK DIAMONDS

noon, therefore we have postponed the second ieeting
until to-morrow at daylight.”

“ Before daylight to-morrow I will put a stop to the
duel.”

“How so?”

“T shall speak to Behrend ; I shall explain everything
to him.” |

“Tf you tell him that this affair has:arisen out of a
joke, the result will be that, instead of fighting a duel
with one man, Behrend will have six duels on his hands.”

*T will tell him in such a way that he will not ask to
fight with any of you.”

“Then you will have ruined Salista.”

“How so? What has he to do with it ?”

“If this half-finished rencontre gets wind, and it
reaches the ears of the authorities that an officer re-
fused his adversary’s third fire, Salista will have to
leave his regiment, he will be received nowhere, and he
would have to go back to the pope’s army as zouave.”

“For my part, I don’t care if he becomes the devil’s
zouave! What do I care about him? Let him go to
the Sultan of Dahomey. He is only fit to be the gen-
eral of his army. For my part, he may go quite to the
bad ; he is half-way there already. But who cares what
happens to him? J don’t. Your duty is clear; you
should protect your man. Isn’t that so?”

Edmund looked with astonishment at the excitement
into which the countess had thrown herself; she was
trembling, and her eyes gleamed with passion.

“This is quite a new view of the affair,” he said.
*‘Tf you look upon it in this light, I must agree that we
have been wrong, and you most certainly right. I shall
go at once and look for Geza; we will both repair to
Behrend, and tell him our opinion.”

ONLY A TRIFLE 205

He bowed low before his cousin, and left. In an
hour he returned. He found Angela in the same place.

“Well, what is done? Is it all settled ?”

“Listen. Geza and I went to Ivan. I explained to
him that we considered it our duty not to infringe the
conditions laid down in such matters, and that we were
resolved not to allow the duel with swords to proceed.
He pressed both our hands warmly. ‘I thank you,’ he
said, ‘for the friendship you have shown me, and since
your convictions will not allow you to stand by me in
this affair, I shall not try to persuade you. I shall go
to the nearest barracks, the Karls Kaserne, and I shall
tell the first two officers I may meet that I am engaged
in an affair of honor to be fought with swords, that I am
a stranger in the town, and that I throw myself upon
their kindness to be my seconds.’”’

Angela, with a despairing gesture, clasped her hands
together.

“You said the truth,” continued Edmund, “when
you prophesied that this man would show his teeth.
He has the grip of a bull-dog when he gets an idea.
We told him that Salista was a celebrated swordsman.
He took it quite coolly. ‘If the devil himself was my
adversary, I should look him in the face,’ was all he
said.”

Angela sat down and hid her face in her hands,

“We had no other course than to assure him, so far
as our services went, he was free to make use of us.
So it was settled. We go for him to-morrow at daybreak.
How it will all end, God only knows!”

With these words Edmund took himself away. Angela
never noticed he had left the room.

That night she never lay down. All through the long
hours of the night she walked to and fro in her room,

206 BLACK DIAMONDS

When fatigue forced her to sit down for 4 moment she
could not rest. Once only the thought that was in her
mind found expression in words :

“T have treated him as Julia Gonzaga treated the
man who saved her life.”

When daylight broke she threw herself, dressed as
she was, upon her bed. The maid next morning found
the pillow, in which she had buried her face, wet with
tears. ’

CHAPTER XIV

THIRTY-THREE PARTS

Ir must certainly be said of our philosopher that he
was acting somewhat inconsistently. He had left his
home and property, where he had lived a simple country
life amid his own people, happy in the study of those
mysterious powers—fire and water; he had abandoned
all his scientific pursuits to belong to a world to which
he was, and must ever be, a stranger, feeling more or
less like a fish upon dry land. Even his science he had
turned into a farce, so bringing it into disgrace. He
had lent himself to lectures and tableaux, to singing
operas, and dancing Hungarian cotillons, to hunting
foxes at breakneck speed, to rescuing beautiful ladies,
mixing himself up therewhile in the affairs of noble
families, to fighting duels with officers for the sake of
lovely countesses, and running the risk of being sabred
by an intemperate savage! It was no wonder that,
reviewing all this, Ivan should say to himself, “ Good
heavens, what an ass I have made, and am making, of
myself! What have I to do with all the nonsense that
goes on in this fashionable world of Pesth? Above all,
what is it to me whether Countess Angela is at war
with her grandfather, whether she goes to Vienna, or
whether he comes to Pesth? Why is it necessary for
me to remain here, leading such an uncongenial life, ap-
parently without any object ?—and, although I have an

208 BLACK DIAMONDS

object, yet if this were known to the world I should be
considered an even greater fool than I am at present
deemed to be.”

Now, as Ivan’s reflections have been made public, it is
only proper that the reason of his apparently objectless
conduct should be laid before the reader of these pages,
so that he or she may be in a position to judge whether
he was a fool or a wise man, or something between the ©
two—a man of sentiment and feeling, who does what his
heart commands him to do. With some natures the
heart cannot be silenced; it has its rights. We may re-
member that when the Abbé Samuel paid his first visit
to Ivan, he found that gentleman in the act of writing a
refusal to the Countess Theudelinde’s invitation ; that
he was, in fact, upon the point of returning to Bondavara,
and that the arrival of a letter changed all his plans, and
was the cause of his remaining in Pesth. This letter
came from Vienna; the writer was a certain pianist whose
name had been for some years mentioned among the
first class of artists—Arpad Belenyi.

Nearly fourteen years before our story began Ivan
had lived for a long time in the house of the Belenyis.
We shall know later what he did there. Arpad was at
that time a child of five years old; he was already counted
a prodigy, and could play long pieces upon the piano,
At that time warlike and patriotic marches were all the ©
fashion. One day the bread-winner of the family, the
father, died suddenly. The widow was in despair, espe-
cially for her orphaned boy. Ivan consoled her with the
promise that he would look after him, and provide for his
education.

On account of certain circumstances, some months
after, however, Ivan had to leave the family Belenyi
somewhat suddenly, and it seemed doubtful if he should

THIRTY-THREE PARTS 209

ever see them again. Ivan at parting gave all the money
he could spare to the widow, and told her to get Arpad
a good musical education, such as would fit him for an
artistic career. The boy, he thought, would attain emi-
nence, and make a livelihood by his art. And here let
it be clearly understood that Ivan was neither a friend
of Belenyi nor the lover of Madame Belenyi; neither was
he connected with the family in any way, nor was he in
duty bound to do as he did. For years the Belenyis
heard nothing from Ivan, nor he from them. Once, on
his inquiring about them, he was told that in consequence
of a lawsuit they had lost their house, had left the town,
and that neither mother nor son had since been heard
of. Then, after another spell of years, Arpad Belenyi’s
name began to be mentioned in different newspapers,
always as a young and astonishingly clever artist. From
this time Ivan took in regularly a musical paper or mag-
azine, and so followed attentively his adopted son’s
career. The latter, however, knew nothing of his kind
benefactor until, later, [van’s name also appeared in the
papers. His discourse at the Academy led to his being
traced by his adopted son, who at once wrote him a let-
ter, beginning with’ the words, “ My dear father.” It was
a letter full of simple, boyish sentiments, through which
broke at intervals the natural fun and playful humor of the
artist. He told Ivan everything concerning himself ; how
he had travelled in many countries, accompanied always
by his mother, to whom he had always to give an account
of his actions as near the truth as possibly could be.
He had already given concerts before crowned heads,
and had received several orders which he was allowed to
wear only on Sundays ; the other days of the week they
were locked up by his mother. He had earned a good
deal of money, but he was not permitted to spend much.
14

210 BLACK DIAMONDS

Mamma gave him every day a five-shilling piece fot
pocket-money ; the rest she put by to buy back her lit-
tle house which “old Raize” had robbed her of. He,
therefore, to make more money, gave music-lessons and
played accompaniments for artists. This was well paid,
particularly of late, when he had fallen in with a little
artist, a new singer, who paid splendidly. She was said
to be the wife of Felix Kaulmann, the rich banker.

When he came to this passage Ivan’s heart began to
beat. He laid down the letter, then took it up again,
and read it with renewed attention.

“This girl is a mixture of Muse and Menad,” wrote
Arpad. ‘“ Now she isa petulant child, the next minute a
wild Amazon; a born artist, full of genius, yet she is not
likely ever to rise above mediocrity. She is full of intelli-
gence and life, and with this often as stupid as a donkey.
There is no doubt she could attain an unenviable noto-
riety, but she shrinks from it, for although she conducts
herself like a courtesan, I would take my oath she is in
reality as innocent as the child she really is. She is
very trying to me, full of mischief and petulance, and
this because I treat her to no soft manners, but scold
her well for being so naughty. If you could only see,
dear papa, what a splendid master I am, always serious,
no frivolity allowed! Now I have photographed myself
for you, have I not? Do not think, however, that I
would have scrawled all over my paper this monologue
about my pupil, as if I had nothing better or wiser to
write about. I have done so because the subject has a
certain interest for you. You must know this curious
little angel confides in me as if I were her confessor.
Sometimes she chatters all through her lesson, telling
me where she has been, what she has done, everything
that has happened to her; and she often tells me things

THIRTY-THREE PARTS me |

which, if I were in her place, I would not talk about.
Have a little patience, my dear good papa. This lady
has thirty-three different 7é/es, all of them of different
kinds. They are not, strictly speaking, stage parts, but
monologues, which are composed expressly for her.
These scenes we rehearse together; I play her accom-
paniment, while she sings and acts.

“T am coming now to the kernel of the nut. I am
going to crack it for you. Here are the names of the
actress’s thirty-three parts—‘ Loreley,’ ‘Cleopatra,’ ‘ The
Queen of the Sun,’ ‘ The Greek Slave,’‘ The Bacchante,’
*Nourmahal,’ ‘The Bride,’ ‘The Matron’s Cap,’ ‘The
Bayadeére,’ ‘Claudia Laeta, the Vestal,’ ‘ Amalasontha,’
‘Magdalene,’ ‘ Ninon,’ ‘La Somnambula,’ ‘ Medea,’ ‘ Sa-
lome,’ ‘The Houris,’ ‘The Despair of Hero,’ ‘The Phryg-
ian Cap,’ ‘Turandot,’ ‘The Peasant Girl,’ ‘The Mother,’
‘Jeanne la Folle,’ ‘ Ophelia,’ ‘ Judith,’ ‘ Zuleika Potiphar,’
‘The Market Woman,’ ‘The Grisette,’ ‘The Creole,’
* Lucretia,’ ‘The Will-o’-the-Wisp,’ ‘ Julia Gonzaga.’

“The thirty-third part I do not know; we have not
as yet rehearsed it. But why the deuce does she learn
all these parts, for she never treads the boards? The
report is that the reason why this lady’s talent is so
much cultivated is that she is engaged to sing at the
Opera-house. This seems even more strange, and I,
for one, am slow to believe it. A banker like Kaul-
mann, who is a millionaire, and whose wife pays for her
apartment four thousand florins! Besides, she would
have to give her singing-master, who has got her the
engagement, six thousand; to the leader of the orchestra,
two thousand; four thousand to the newspapers to puff
her ; another three thousand to the c/agueurs; and some-
thing else to the men who throw the wreaths and flowers.
There would remain for her about a thousand florins;

212 BLACK DIAMONDS

that would hardly pay for her scents. So you see the
absurdity of the whole thing. Where are we now? This
pretty creature, who wishes also to be a famous artist,
has several lovers who can easily pay their court to
madame, seeing that she and her husband live in sepa-
rate apartments. This is only natural; the banker could
not have his mind, which is occupied with important
speculations, disturbed by constant so/feggi, There
are several persons in Vienna who bear the title of
the ‘Mecenas of Art’; they are gentlemen of high
position, who have, great weight in the departmental
government, and whose voices are heard in all social
and official capacities. These have been allowed the
privilege of being present during the rehearsals of the
thirty-two monologues ; the thirty-third has not as yet
been played before any one. In all this I can assure
you everything is conducted with the greatest propriety.
I am always present, also the husband, who remains
so long as the comedy continues. Among the com-
pany are representatives of the highest nobility, counts,
princes, senators, and ministers. They are good sort
of people, and call one another Fritz, Nazi, Muke, etc.
Among others we have two princes, who come every
time we have a rehearsal—the Prince Mari and the
Prince Baldi; the names they received on baptism being
Waldemar and Theobald. Yesterday Eveline—for so is
my pupil named—was not inclined to work, and without
my asking her what ailed her, with her usual frankness
she came out with her annoyance.

*** Only fancy,’ she said; ‘that odious Prince Walde-
mar, when he was in my opera-box last night, threatened
that if I did not let him come to our next rehearsal he
would ruin Lixi.’ (Lixi is short for Felix, her husband’s
name.)

THIRTY-THREE PARTS 213

**Why don’t you admit him?’ I asked. ‘He is not
worse than the other jackanapes who come here.’

“*Because I cannot endure him. I told Lixi what
Prince Waldemar had said, and Lixi answered that he
would ruin the prince. At the same time he gave me to
understand that Prince Theobald must be invited to the
rehearsal.’

*“* All right,’ said I; ‘he is a fine old gentleman.
You can have no objection to him; he is old enough to
be your grandfather.’

“The young wife bit her lips, and, with a frown on
her lovely face, said :

“*T have to ask him todo something. What do you
think it is? Oh, you could never guess! It is to give
his signature that he will consent to a certain affair
which will cost him nothing, but which will help Lixi
greatly. You know that Lixi has a grand speculation
on hand, a gigantic coal company, which is to start the
business with I don’t know howmany millions of money ;
but the place where the coal-mines are situated, the
Bondavara property, belongs to Prince Theobald and his
sister. The countess has already given her consent,
but without his ratification the shares would not be
taken up at the exchange. Prince Waldemar is work-
ing against us, and therefore I am to win over the old
prince to our side. Lixi says it will be very easy to get
round him just at the present moment, because his
granddaughter, Countess Angela, of whom he is very
fond, has quarrelled with him and left him. The poor
old man is very sad and lonely, and Lixi says whoever
cheers him up will be able to do anything with him;
and,’ she added, with a wise look, ‘we are not deceiv-
ing him, for the Bondavara coal is the finest in the
world.’

214 BLACK DIAMONDS

“T burst out laughing; I could not help it. Then
she pulled my hair and said:

“*Why do you laugh, you ridiculous donkey? I
think I must be a judge of coal, for I worked as day-
laborer for ten years in the mines of Herr Behrend.’

“At these words my astonishment was so great that
I jumped up from my seat.

“*You may stare your eyes out of your head,’ she
said, laughing at my amazement, ‘but it is quite true.
I used to shove the coal-wagons, and barefoot into the
bargain.’ .

““* Gracious lady, believe me, I did not jump up from
astonishment; I was surprised to hear you name Ivan
Behrend. What do you know of him? Pray tell me.’

““* He was the owner of the coal-mines in Bondavara,
near which Felix is going to open works upon an enor-
mous scale. He was my master; God bless him, wher-
ever he goes !’

“Now, dear papa, I have come to the heart of the
business, after, it must be owned, an unconscionably
long prelude. With my weak intellect I have thought
out the whole thing. Here is my kind friend, my adopt-
ed father, the owner of a mine in Bondavara, and be-
side him men with I don’t know how many millions at
their backs are going to form a coal company. It would
be a good thing to let him know, that he may act in
time ; it may be good for him, but it would seem to me
that it may also be very bad. Here the air is full of
speculation ; you see, I am already slightly bitten. Let
me know how and in what manner the affair affects you
and your interests. I shall write to you what goes on
here, for I shall be behind the scenes; this little fool
tells me everything.”

The receipt of this letter had decided Ivan to accept

THIRTY-THREE PARTS 218

the Countess Theudelinde’s invitation to give a roman-
tic reading at her house, and to enter into the society of
Pesth. He wrote to Arpad, and begged him to give him
every day an exact account of what he heard through
Evila of the progress of the coal-mine company.

From this time Ivan received regularly every week
two or three letters from Vienna.

“The old prince nibbles at the bait. Kaulmann has
brought him to the rehearsal of the new piece. Eveline
sings and acts enchantingly; that is, when she is within
four walls, and has only a few people for audience. If
she acted like this on the stage she would be a celebrated
actress in no time; but so soon as she comes before the
footlights stage-fright seizes upon her, she trembles, for-
gets everything, stands there like a stick, and, worst of
all, sings quite false. These rehearsals have been given
on the pretext that the prince should have an opportu-
nity of judging of her talent, so that he may influence
those in power to give her an engagement at the opera.
I know what their real object is. The prince is a real
connoisseur in music, and he understands not alone art,
but artists. He knows that there is a price set upon
such black diamonds as.sparkle in Eveline’s eyes. There
is the additional incentive that Prince Waldemar is des-
perately in love with this woman, and Prince Theobald,
for certain reasons, will do anything to prevent her fall-
ing into his hands. He would even go the length of tak-
ing her himself sooner than such a misadventure should
happen.

“A short time since Prince Waldemar met me, and
offered me one hundred ducats for every leaf of the al-
bum in which are the portraits of Madame Kaulmann in
her character costumes. You must know, of late, each
day that we rehearse one of the monologues at the piano

216 BLACK DIAMONDS

a photographer is present and takes the artist in her cos-
tume. Everything must be finished in the house, and
not more than four pictures are allowed to be executed ;
one of these is for Prince Theobald, one is kept by her-
self, one she presents to me, and the fourth is for my
friend Felix. The negative is then broken. I would not
sell my photographs to Prince Waldemar, but I send
them to you as they follow one another. Mamma does
not like to see such pictures in my room.”

Ivan received with each letter a photograph; each
portrait represented Evila as a lovely creation in a most
graceful pose. Arpad had not the least idea what a
hell of different passions were raised in Ivan’s breast as
he looked at the beautiful image of the woman he had
and still loved.

In the first portrait she was represented as “ Loreley ”
the fairy, who, in the whirlpool of the Rhine, sings her
magic song and combs her hair with a golden comb,
while her left shoulder rises from the waves, which par-
tially conceal her form. Her eyes gaze invitingly at the
fisherman, whom she entices to his ruin. In the second
photograph she appeared as “ Cleopatra” at Tarsus,
where she is displaying all her charms to seduce her
conqueror and make him her slave; a rich portrait, in
which the lascivious queen is represented laden with
splendid dresses and jewels, while the expression of the
beautiful face was an admirable mixture of pride, dig-
nity, and weakness. The third photograph presented
the sun-queen, “ Atahualpa,” the wife of the last Inca.
Her look was haughty and sublime; the sublimity of
the expression diverts attention from the uncovered
arms, white as marble, round as an infant’s, which are
raised to heaven, offering as a sacrifice a human heart,
Her face mirrored the coldness of heaven itself. The

THIRTY-THREE PARTS 217

fourth, as the “Greek Slave”; she represented the tor-
tured beauty, who in vain tries to break the chains of
shame in which she is bound—a lovely marble statue,
equal in conception to one by Thorwaldsen or Pradier.
The fifth was the “ Bacchante,” from one of the Roman
bas-reliefs, which represents the procession of Bacchus.
A wild, bold, dissolute conception ; showing accessories
of surprising drapery, panther skins, cups, etc., an ideal
debauch; limbs in wild movement. The sixth portrait
was of a bride; a white lace dress, upon her head a
white garland, her figure concealed by a white veil, on
her face an expression of soft emotion at the approach-
ing realization of her happiness, in her eyes tears, on her
lips a tremulous smile. With what wonderful charm she
stretches out her hand to receive the betrothal ring!
The eighth portrayed a young woman who for the first
time puts the matron’s cap upon her head. Pride,
shame, and conscious triumph are all in her face. She
feels that the cap upon her head is a well-deserved
crown—a crown for which she has sacrificed a garland.

Ivan contemplated this picture for a long time; his
heart was full of the bitterness of disappointed love.
His adopted son’s present had been somewhat unfort-
unate.

The ninth photograph represented Evila as a “ Baya-
dére,” in the artistic dress of the Indian dancer, striking
the tambourine over her head. Round her slight figure
a shawl embroidered in gold was wound in careless
folds, on her neck a chain of gold coins, her small feet
bare, and strings of pearls up to the knee.

In the tenth portrait she appeared as “Claudia
Laeta,” the vestal virgin, at the moment when she is
led to the stake because she has refused the solicita-
tions of Caracalla; on her face an expression of horror,

218 BLACK DIAMONDS

of virginal modesty. With one hand she tries to cover
her head with her cloak to escape from the gaze of the
multitude.

How is it possible for one woman to play so many
parts? Arpad accompanied these pictures with diffuse
explanations, which were so many arrows in the heart of
Ivan. The result of all this posturing was, he said, be-
coming every day clearer.

“The prince is more and more fascinated ; he is fall-
ing deeper and deeper into the net spread for him,
After each rehearsal he declares that a real treasure has
been concealed, which has been a loss to art that must
be at once remedied.”

But such treasures are very costly, especially when a
man has reached the age of sixty-eight, close on seventy,
and has a marriageable granddaughter ; then it is neces-
sary to look very closely into his check-book to see if it
would be possible to provide for the grandchild and at
the same time satisfy the caprices of a beautiful young
woman.

Not long ago Prince Theobald had built a splendid
palace in the Maximilian Strasse; it was destined for
the Countess Angela, in the case that she agreed to her
grandfather’s wish as to her marriage. The palace was
furnished with the utmost magnificence. The countess,
however, had thought otherwise. She broke off her mar-
riage with Sondersheim; she had good reasons, no doubt,
but she need not have openly defied her grandfather.
It was unwise of her so to do, for Evila was weaving her
spell closer round the old man’s heart, and Angela had
best be prudent, and return speedily to Vienna, else the
palace in the Maximilian Strasse will be presented, with-
out a shadow of doubt, to Madame Kaulmann.

Arpad’s letters had made Ivan acquainted with the

THIRTY-THREE PARTS 219

ins and outs of the whole affair; through them he had
learned that the woman he had loved had become the
wife of another man, and was likely to be the mistress
of a third. The first blow he could bear with a certain
resignation ; he wished her all happiness; but that she
should sink up to the neck in shame, led thither by the
act of her own husband, was a bitter thought! No, that
she should be saved from, if Ivan could compass her
deliverance. For this end he remained in Pesth. Hence
it seemed to him he could pull the strings of this complex
drama, and defeat the conspiracy against Evila’s honor ;
for this purpose he went into a world that he despised,
affected a manner of life totally inconsistent with his
ideas, and cultivated a friendship with the Countess An-
gela, that his influence might induce her to play the part
of the good angel.

Was he a fool to sacrifice his own feelings for a woman
who had inflicted upon him the severest mortification a
man can endure? Those whose hearts are dominated
by cold prudence will judge his folly perhaps rightly ;
those who have hearts that feel for others will acknowl-
edge that he did well in obeying its dictates, and from
his own point of view, perhaps, he acted for his own
ultimate advantage.

If Prince Theobald is induced to consent to the lease
of his property to the Bondavara Company, Ivan’s little
coal-mine is ruined. Good if he can, while working for
another, help himself. A man of business is always a
speculator; therefore we say to the warm-hearted and
compassionate that Ivan acted a part to save Evila from
shame, and to the cold-hearted and unfeeling that it was
all in the way of business, to save, if he could, his little
all from the monster company ready to devour it bodily.

Arpad continued to send the photographs. They were

220 BLACK DIAMONDS

of all kinds, tragic and comic. ‘ Medea,” with her mur-
derous revenge and jealousy; the daughter of Herod,
with her voluptuous dance to gain the saint’s head; the
cruelty of “Judith,” the wild laughter of “Jeanne la
Folle,” the devotion of a holy nun, the coquettish tricks
of a griset’e,a languid Creole, a supernatural “ Will-o’-
the-Wisp ’—these were the principal representations in
which Ivan found rather studied effort at catching an
artistic effect than natural instinct or expression. This
was the school of Madame Grissac, to whom Felix had
intrusted Evila’s education. ‘Two portraits that came at
the end produced upon Ivan a painful impression. One
represented a mother by the cradle of her child, the
other a peasant girl, a coal-carrier, with her hair plaited
down her back, and a red frock tucked up above her
ankles. It pained Ivan deeply that she should profane
these two sacred subjects. Why take a mother’s love to
be made a vehicle to create an old man’s admiration ?
And the girl with the red frock! Ah, that was unpar-
donable! He could not forgive her for having wounded
him to the very heart.

One day the artist wrote to Ivan—

“My good patron, Felix Kaulmann, is an out-and-out
scoundrel. Up to the present he generally attends the
rehearsals when the prince is present. Yesterday Prince
Theobald seemed quite excited, so much so that Kaul-
mann was struck by it. To his question the prince said
that he was very happy. He had received a letter from
his granddaughter, the Countess Angela. She wrote
in the most friendly manner. She told him that she had
met a certain Ivan Behrend, who had the courage to give
her a regular scolding, and had told her to her face what
was the duty of the Hungarian magnates towards their
country, a duty in which they were wanting, and which

THIRTY-THREE PARTS 221

Prince Theobald would fulfil if he left Vienna and came
to reside in Pesth, in which case the countess would
agree to a reconciliation. The old prince seemed so
happy at the idea of seeing his childagain! Kaulmann,
however, looked very black, blacker still when the prince
said he would consider the matter; but that, as the
countess had taken a fancy to Pesth, he thought he
would go there. Inwardly Felix gnashed his teeth with
rage, outwardly he expressed great satisfaction that the
countess had at last broken the ice; it was a good sign
that she was getting tired of her obstinacy. But if he were
in the prince’s situation he would try and persuade the
countess to come to Vienna, instead of going himself to
Pesth. The prince listened to this suggestion ; he fell
into the trap, and will not go at once to Pesth, but will
try to bring back the countess. In the meantime we
are to have the two last rehearsals. The thirty-second
is the representation of ‘Julia Gonzaga,’ whose story
you will find in any library. The most interesting part
of this scene is the toilette of the heroine, who appears
in a night-dress made of muslin, with her feet naked. In
spite of this rather risky costume the lady’s virtue was
irreproachable, for in her hand she held a dagger, and
threatened to kill any one who ventured to look at her
feet. As I wrote to you, Kaulmann has always been
present at these rehearsals, but from this one of ‘Julia
Gonzaga’ he is obliged to absent himself, as he has to
go away for a fewdays. I believe that my office should
be called garde des dames. As it happens, however, on
this occasion I, too, am unavoidably prevented from
being present. When I went home and showed mamma
the enclosed photograph she shuddered, and positively
forbade me to assist at a rehearsal in which a woman
appeared in such a costume, I must plead illness or

222 BLACK DIAMONDS

any other cause, but stay at home I must. I thought
over several lies, but at last I decided that I would tell
my gracious pupil the truth; so I did.

“*TListen,’ I said. ‘My mother will not allow me to
accompany you if you sing barefoot. If it is really the
point of the piece that ‘Julia’ must present herself with-
out stockings on her feet, then I must deny myself the
pleasure of playing on the piano.’

“The silly child laughed very much, and said she
would get somebody else. She may do as she likes; I
don’t care. Mamma is perfectly right in forbidding me
to go, and I think that I have done perfectly right to
tell my pupil why I refuse to accompany her.”

This letter depressed Ivan. For a long time he
looked at the photograph, considering it from every
point of view. Evila in a dress the thin material of
which showed every motion of her plastic limbs; in one
hand she gathered the folds across her breast, her eyes
had a murderous glare in their violet depths, her long and
beautiful hair fell to her feet; in her right hand she
pointed a dagger towards a motionless form which lay
at her feet covered bya rug. This was the second time
that Ivan had heard the story from a lady.

The next day he received another letter from Arpad ;
he found it on his return from the first meeting with
Salista.

“Eveline,” wrote the artist, “ performed her tableau
before the prince without the accompaniment of the
piano and without the company of her husband. She
looked so lovely that all the prince’s good principles
melted away like snow before the sun. He took her
hand and kissed it; then the murderous look disap-
peared from her sweet eyes; she broke out into a rip-
ple of laughter.

THIRTY-THREE PARTS 223

““« Prince, do you not see that I have a knife in my
hand ?’

“*T can take it from you.’

“The young girl laughed again; and we all know
how easy it is to take anything from a smiling woman.

“ At this moment there resounded through the room
an echo of Eveline’s laugh; that is to say, if you can
call a frog’s croak an echo of a nightingale’s song. Out
of the conservatory, which ornaments one side of the
room, there came a crippled dwarf, who supported him-
self upon crutches. His long head was sunk between
his high shoulders, and his white, satyr-like face was
distorted by an odious grin as he dragged himself be-
tween the prince and his inamorata.

“* Prince, we are not alone,’ laughed Eveline, freeing
her hand from the clasp of the astonished nobleman.

“*Tn Heaven’s name, who is this splendid specimen
of a toad?’ he cried, with an air of disgust.

“*This is my only beloved little brother,’ cried Eve-
line, putting her arms round the little monster, and cov-
ering him with kisses while she stroked his head. ‘My
dear, only little brother, my all, my dearest; my ugly,
cross, quarrelsome little tyrant, who comes to me when-
ever he likes.’

“*A horrible creature!’ said the prince. ‘The hob-
goblins who kept watch over the gate of the Witch of
Endor were cherubims as compared with this monster.
I beg of you, Eveline, not to kiss his face, as it takes
away forever the pleasure one would have in kissing
so lovely a mouth.’

“ Eveline made no answer, but, suddenly turning away,
she threw a burnoose round her shoulders, put her tiny
feet into a pair of slippers, and said, demurely :

“*Prince, the thirty-second rehearsal is over, and

224 BLACK DIAMONDS

there only remains the thirty-third to complete the
course.’

“The prince asked what the title of this last should
be, and Eveline whispered in his ear that he would
know the next day but one.

““* And how many more will know it?’

“*No one but you.’

“* Not this Caliban ?’

“* Certainly not.’

“The prince took his leave in an ecstasy, firmly con-
vinced that at the last representation he would have
Eveline all to himself. Eveline needed a day to pre-
' pare herself.

“The scene was repeated to me by the cripple, who
likes me very much, and comes nearly every evening to
share my supper; for although everything possible for
his comfort is provided by Eveline, he is never happy
unless he begs from some one. _ If he were a prince, I
do believe the creature would get out of his carriage to
ask for alms. He finds such a wonderful pleasure in
begging. For a stick of sugar-barley he will tell me
everything. What pleased him most was the prince’s
remark about his being a splendid specimen of a toad.
He imitated for me how he crept out of the conserva-
tory on his crutches, and how he laughed when he saw
the gentleman wanted to take the knife from his sister,
You will hear from me again the day after to-morrow.”

The day after to-morrow! These words to a man who
might be lying stark and stiff by that time! They gave
Ivan a sudden chill; but he said to himself he would not
die easily, he would fight for his life.

That night he dreamed a curious dream, in which he
saw two “ Julia Gonzagas,” who both wanted to kill him,
and yet he had deserved nothing but good at their hands,

So goes the world!

CHAPTER XV

TWO POINTS

A DUEL with swords has this distinct advantage over
a duel with pistols: you need have no concealment con-
cerning it; the day before it is spoken of as an interest-
ing wager would be. In former times it happened rarely
that a duel with swords had a fatal ending, and therefore
it is surrounded with none of the mystery that attends
the more serious affair; for the seconds, likewise, there
is far less responsibility. If a principal gets severely
hurt, the attending surgeon declares that the sufferer has
not died of the wound, but that there was some trouble
in the organism which would have probably killed him
within the next forty-eight hours. And who, nowadays,
would make a fuss over a man who was doomed to die in
forty-eight hours ?

The duel which was to take place between the Marquis
Salista and Ivan was spoken of at the club with indif-
ference, as a thing that had aforegone conclusion. Salista
spoke most of it himself, and at six o’clock the evening
before stood at the chimney-piece and entertained a
select group of friends, among whom were the four sec-
onds, with his ideas on the subject.

The golden youth of Pesth, being in the habit of hav-
ing constant fencing-bouts at the different gymnasiums,
know well who is the most skilful fencer, and are there-
fore able to predicate, accurately enough in many cases,

5

526 BLACK DIAMONDS

what the result will be. Salista had the reputation
of being a first-rate swordsman ; he had already fought
several duels, and always been the victor; he had one
particular stroke, a master-stroke, which few fencers
could parry; it was a quick thrust in the stomach, which,
passing round the point of his adversary’s sword, ripped
up his abdomen. If the other intercepted the thrust, he
was likely to get out of time, so that his face, being left
uncovered, was exposed to a well-delivered thrust which
would spoil his beauty, if it did not have more dangerous
consequences. Some men would have felt that the cir-
cumstances connected with the preceding duel required
explanation, that the refusal to stand your adversary’s
fire had a doubtful sound. For a similar offence others
had been rigorously punished by having to leave Vienna
for some weeks, and being sometimes kept in Coventry
even longer. Salista was, however, a privileged person;
his courage was not called in question. He was, more-
over, a cool hand, and carried off his difficult position
with the most astounding af/omb. As he now stood upon
the rug he talked with a good deal of swagger as to what
would happen on the morrow.

“We shall see what stuff this Admirable Crichton is
made of. Sword-exercise is not like pistol-shooting ;
there can be no mathematics. We will ask him how he
construes the under-cut when the sabre takes his legs
from under him.”

Count Geza rebuked the boaster. “You must re-
member,” he said, “that Ivan acted towards you in the
most chivalrous manner when he accepted the sword
instead of the pistol, and you must also consider that he
is a man of learning, very much thought of, and likely to
be of service in his generation.”

“Very good. You needn’t be afraid, I shall not kill

TWO POINTS 227
\

him; I shall only slice a piece off his nose, that he may
carry home a souvenir of Pesth. A scholar like him
will not care if his beauty is spoiled ; science is not
sniffed up like snuff, and his nose is no use for looking
through the telescope at the stars.”

Here Edmund interfered, and protested hotly against
any injury being done to the nose of his principal. At
last the marquis had to content himself with a slice off
his ear; but Edmund still remonstrated.

“You should be satisfied with a cut on his hand,” he
said; “the whole matter is not worth more.”

Count Stefan here made a suggestion in his quiet
way.

“My good Salista, what if this coal-heaver were to
cut you down ?”

“What !” blustered the marquis, standing with long
legs apart in front of the chimney-piece. ‘To show
you what I think of him, I will give him two points; |
will let him have two cuts at me on my arm, and then I
will cut him down. You shall see! You can make
your bets. Who holds the wager?” So he went on
boasting until the discussion came to an end. His last
question was whether the seconds would be quick
enough to interfere before he made a cripple of their
great scholar.

On the following day the two parties met. The large
ball-room in the hotel had been thought the most suit-
able place, as it was generally hired for such occasions.
The seconds had chalked the floor with pulverized chalk
to prevent the combatants from slipping. In an adjoin-
in room both the principals had to strip to the waist ;
then they were led into the room. There was no neces-
sity to draw lots as to the placing of the men, as the
room was panelled all round with looking-glasses. Be-

228 BLACK DIAMONDS

fore they were given the sabres the following conditions
were read out:

“First blood. Stabbing is not allowed.”

Salista protested. He would not hear of first blood.
The duel should go on until one of the combatants de-
clared himself no longer able to fight. Every one tried
to persuade him to be more moderate, but he would not
give in.

“Give us the swords!” cried Ivan, out of all patience.
“T am getting a chill, half-naked as I am.”

This interruption decided the matter. The paces
were measured, the principals placed in position, and
their swords handed to them.

Both were naked to their waists. Salista exhibited
Herculean muscles, Ivan had a well-developed form.
He had certainly not so much flesh as his adversary, but
was bony, had long arms, and a vaulted chest. The
fight began in the usual manner. Both men held the
points of their swords towards each other, had the left
hand drawn back, and their heads protected by their
arms. Now and again they crossed their swords dex-
terously, trying to find a place for a good thrust, and
striking one another softly. Each stared into his ad-
versary’s eyes, seeking to read his intentions. Salista
essayed to give his adversary a thrust which would
injure his face. This was very difficult, for the face
is always protected by the arm. Ivan, on his side,
endeavored to give his opponent the double thrust.
This requires extraordinary agility; but he succeed-
ed. He tore the top muscle of Salista’s right arm the
whole way down. That this blow does not bleed at
once is explained by the cellular texture of the mus-
cles.

“ Forward !” cried Salista, ‘No blood!”

TWO POINTS 229

He now gave up all efforts at injuring his adversary
in the face, and resorted to his well-known trick, the
belly-thrust, which is difficult to parry, and if it hits is
often deadly in its effect. If it is not parried, the effect
is certain; and if it is, the giver can, if he is a good
swordsman, hit his adversary a terrible cut over the
head. Ivan did not parry, good or bad. Salista had
not forgotten that the duelling-sword is shorter than the
cavalry practise-sword ; but he forgot, or rather didn’t
know, that his adversary had arms of unusual length. |
This is, therefore, what happened. Ivan did not at-
tempt to parry the belly-thrust; he raised his arm, and
let the sword-point of his opponent pass at a distance of
two lines over his body, while he aimed straight at the
other’s arm, cutting him crossways in the same place
where he had before cut lengthways.

These were the two points. Through this cross-cut
the difference of strength between the two men was
equalized. This last defeat filled Salista with fury.
With the roar of a wild beast he threw himself upon his
adversary, and with all his strength made two cuts at
the head. He cut as a butcher cuts with his axe; it
was a miracle that both swords didn’t break in two, for,
according to rule, Ivan received both thrusts upon the
handle of his sword, and before the other could give
him a third he gave him quickly a thrust in front with
such strength and precision that it came with full force
on the head and face of the marquis. It was lucky that
the sword was light, otherwise he would have split his
skull in two. Salista reeled under the blow, then raised
his left arm to protect his head, tottered sideways, and
fell down, supporting himself upon the handle of his
sword. His seconds ran to him to raise him up and
lead him away. Ivan stood with his sword-point low-

230 j BLACK DIAMONDS

ered, his face apathetic, as if turned to marble. His
seconds congratulated him.

“ Are the gentlemen content?” he asked.

“T dare swear they are,” returned Count Edmund.
“ Nothing could have turned out better; the affair is at
an end.”

With these words they conducted Ivan into the next
room to dress himself.

When he returned to the hall he found that his ad-
versary had recovered consciousness; the two doctors
were with him, one binding up his head, the other his:
arm.

According to the usual etiquette, Ivan went to him.

“Forgive me, comrade,” he said.

Salista gave him his left hand, and said, cordially,
“Tt is not worth talking about; but it was a splendid
fight. The other two don’t count, because I had said I
would give you ‘two points;’ the third—ah, that was a
cut! But I shall be all right in a week.”

Ivan asked the doctors if the wounds were dangerous,
but Salista answered for them.

“ Soldier’s luck,” he said. “I have given similar cuts
a hundred times; now it is my turn, and I don’t com-
plain. Only one thing troubles me. Neither arnica
nor ice-bandages can do me any good; but you who
have caused this suffering can mitigate it. Confess,
now, that you have been in the army.”

“Without doubt,” returned Ivan. “ During the War
of Freedom I was lieutenant of hussars.”

“May the devil fetch you! Why didn’t you tell us
before? In what regiment did you serve?”

“In the Wilhelm Hussars. Therefore I am the sole
survivor and witness of that memorable exploit of yours,
when you cut us to pieces,”

TWO POINTS 231

Everybody burst out laughing. No one laughed more
than the wounded man. The doctors reminded him
that he must not laugh, else the bandage over his face
would get disturbed.

“Very good,” said Salista. “I shall laugh only on
one side of my face. Comrade, God bless you! I shall
not think any more of the cut now that I know it was
the work of a soldier, and not of a civilian. Come, kiss
me on the other cheek, the one you have left me whole
and entire. So, my brother. I cannot give you my
right hand, for you have given me a cross-cut there that
will show a scar for many a day. It was first-rate, that
cut, a regular hussar cut, and, therefore, I don’t in the
least mind it.”

And the combatants kissed one another.

The next moment the wounds began to bleed afresh,
and Salista fainted from loss of blood. Ivan held his
head upon his knees while the doctors bound up the
veins ; then he helped to carry him to the carriage.

Every one said, “ What a capital fellow!”

CHAPTER XVI

GOOD-BYE

Tue friends and acquaintances of both parties were
assembled at Count Stefan’s to hear the result of the
duel. The seconds on both sides had promised to
come and give the earliest news. All the Aaditués of
society were waiting ; there was suppressed excitement ;
bets were made upon which should be wounded, and
whether Salista would give a heavy wound or only a
slight scratch to his adversary. Count Stefan had the
courage to bet ten to one that Salista would get a
scratch ; he also risked “ even money ” that the marquis
would be the only one wounded. That Ivan would
escape with a whole skin no one else for an instant
imagined. If they had done so they might have offered
a hundred to one, and even at that no one of the party
would have taken the bet.

The outposts planted themselves at the windows, to
be the first to see the carriage with the seconds. When
a cab drove up, they shouted to the others :

“Edmund and Geza have arrived !”

“Then I have won my bet,” said Count Stefan; “the
seconds of the man who is least hurt get away first.”

Count Edmund went to the countess’s apartment to
let her know what had happened, while Geza ascended
to Count Stefan’s rooms. He rushed in with the trium-
phant air a victorious second should have.

GOOD-BYE 233

“He has put him to the sword.”

“Who? Who? Ivan? Salista?” cried the company,
surrounding the messenger in their excitement.

“Tvan has put the marquis.”

An “A-ah!” was the incredulous rejoinder of the
others.

“But I tell you he has,” repeated the young count;
“he has cut him into a jelly.”

“ And Ivan?”

“ He is as untouched as I am.”

“ Ah, you are making fun of us.”

“It is no subject for fun. Ask Salista.”

“ But where is Ivan ?”

“He will be here immediately, and will convince the
unbelievers, who will find no wounds into which they
can poke their fingers. He went home with the doc-
tors, for Salista had two, who have at last succeeded in
stitching him together.”

Then he related to them circumstantially all that had
happened. For those who did not clearly understand,
he demonstrated with the help of two walking-sticks the
course the duel took. He came to the double-cut.

“In this way Ivan parried the stomach-thrust and
gave the fore-cut—the final a tempo contre coup. The
performer of these wonderful exploits had not even
turned a hair.”

“Why, he is a miracle!”

“No such thing,” protested Count Geza. “He has
been in the army—captain in the hussars.” (He ad-
vanced him a grade, but captain sounds better than lieu-
tenant.) “He fought all through the revolution; he
was nineteen times in action, and fought with the Cos-
sacks besides. He has also received a good-service
medal,”

234 BLACK DIAMONDS

All this the count imagined might be the fact, al-
though he had certainly not heard a word of such a his-
tory from Ivan. Once a man has scored one success,
he is credited with twenty more. ?

“Truly a wonderful man!” said Baron Oscar. “ For
three months he has been among us every day, and
has never mentioned his soldiering experiences.”

“‘ Now we have really landed him upon us, like a Sind-
bad that can never be shaken off,” remarked Baron Ed-
ward. ‘“ We wanted to be rid of him, and instead we have
raised him into the saddle. He will never dismount ;
he is saddled on us forever. No one would dare now
to speak to him,”

“Good God of Saxony !” cried Baron Oscar, “ how the
man will carry his nose in the air! There will be no
standing him, for the women will, of course, make the
deuce of a fuss about him, and men must have a certain
respect for him. Sacré b/eu/ A man who can shoot
and fence like this fellow! But I would bet anything
that it was a mere accident.”

“T think quite the contrary,” remarked Count Stefan,
“and I very much fear that Ivan will leave us all cool-
ing our heels here, and not showhis face. He will never
cross any of our thresholds again.” es

“Oh, he wouldn’t be such a confounded fool! I bet
you a hundred to one.”

“First pay me the bet you have lost.”

Baron Oscar put his hand in his pocket, but before
he drew out his pocket-book a happy thought struck
him.

“ But how if Geza and his brother second were play-
ing off a joke? They may have concocted this story.
Perhaps the truth is that at the last moment the quarrel
was made up and there was no duel, and that they have

GOOD-BYE 235

both come from a luncheon where no blood, but plenty
of champagne, flowed.”

“Tf you don’t believe me, then drive to Salista. My
cab is at the door. Go and convince yourself.”

The baron rushed off. On the staircase he met Count
Edmund coming up from the ladies. He asked where
Oscar was rushing in such haste.

“ He doesn’t believe Geza’s story.”

“That is just the way the ladies have treated me;
they won’t believe me. They say, ‘If nothing has hap-
pened to Ivan, where is he?’ The Countess Theude-
linde sheds tears like a river; she execrates us all, and
declares we have killed her hero. The cuckoo only
knows which of the two ladies is the most in love with him.
Up to this I thought I knew, but now I am all in the dark.”

Baron Oscar returned at this moment. He didn’t say
a word, but took out his pocket-book and paid Count
Stefan his bet. It was a very convincing answer.

“ Well, how is Salista?” asked several voices together.

“ He is terribly disfigured.”

On this every one took out their purses and paid
their lost bets ; they did it with very sour faces. If only
Ritter Magnet had been disfigured !

Just then Ivan was announced. The sour faces
changed with marvellous rapidity into friendly smiles.
He was greeted warmly; every one wanted to shake
hands with him. He was the hero of the hour, but he
looked tired and very serious. Count Stefan was the
last to press his hand.

“T rejoice,” he said, “ to see you uninjured.”

Two young fellows said to one another, “Old Stefan
may very well rejoice; he has made a good thing of the
handicap, and cleared us out jollily.” But in spite of
their losses, they, too, congratulated the victor.

236 BLACK DIAMONDS

Every one seemed pleased except, perhaps, Ivan. “I
thank you all,” he said, in his grave voice, “for your
warm sympathy; and I thank you, count, in particular,
for your cordial reception, and for the friendship which
you have accorded to me. I shall always preserve a
grateful remembrance of your kindness. I beg of you
to bear me likewise in your recollection, for I have come
now to take leave. I am returning to my home to-mor-
row.”

The count winked with his left eye at Baron Oscar,
as who should say, “ Did I not tell you so?” But he
spoke no word to induce Ivan to rescind his resolution.
He pressed his hand warmly as he said:

“Be assured that I have a sincere esteem for you,
and wherever we may meet again always consider me as
an old friend. God bless you!”

Baron Oscar made much more fuss. He held Ivan
with both hands on his arm.

““ My dear friend, we cannot allow this. Such a good
fellow as you have proved yourself to be cannot slip
away from us in this manner—just at the moment, too,
when you are going to be the lion of the season. You
sha’n’t escape; you belong to us.”

Ivan laughed ; gentle sarcasm, half pain, half irony,
totally unmixed with bitterness, was in the laugh. Then
he answered this burst of friendship:

“T thank you, comrade, for the honor you do me, but
I am not fit to be Governor of Barataria; it is far better
for me tobe athome. I go to get my ‘grison’ saddled,
and I ride away.”

(Any one who is conversant with “ Don Quixote ” will
remember the skit upon the island of Barataria, and the
affecting meeting between the ass and his master.)

When he had finished speaking, Ivan made a deep

GOOD-BYE 237

bow to the company and left the room. Count Stefan
followed him, and, in spite of his protestations, accom-
panied him down the stairs to Theudelinde’s door. He
was much moved by Ivan’s last words.

When he returned he found the entire company still
in a very uncomfortable frame of mind, discussing the
scene that had just happened with much annoyance.

“Who has told him the joke about the island of
Barataria ?” asked Baron Oscar.

Each one gave his word of honor that he had not be-
trayed confidence.

“Then may the devil fly away with me if I don’t be-
lieve it was the abbé.”

But Count Stefan shook his head. ‘“ No, my friends,”
he said, “believe me, no one has told Behrend any-
thing. He is a man of acute penetration, and he has
read you like a book without appearing to take notice.”

Geza, however, swore that the priest had blabbed.

We swear to nothing, but think it right to mention
that a few days previous the Abbé Samuel had received
a letter from Vienna with the words, “What are you
about? You are ruining the whole thing. That ass
Behrend is bringing about a reconciliation between the
countess and the old prince. Get him out of Pesth, for
he is working dead against us.—F E.Ix.”

** At all events, we have pleased my pretty cousin,” re-
marked Count Edmund. “She wanted him to be sent
about his business, and we have done it.”

“Oh, is that so?” And Count Stefan smiled sardon-
ically. “ Cherches la femme, as Talleyrand said. But I
know the dear, capricious sex. When Ivan tells the
ladies down-stairs that he is leaving, there will be a re-
action, and your pretty cousin will cry out, ‘Then we
shall go together!”

238 BLACK DIAMONDS

The others laughed incredulously ; only Edmund as-
sumed the air of Pontius Pilate.

“ T should not be surprised,” he said. “ #njin, there
would be nothing disgraceful in the affair. The fellow
is a gentleman ; he was a soldier, and is of good birth.
His land joins the Bondavara property ; his income is
something under two hundred thousand florins. Angela
is heiress to twenty millions; but then, if our well-be-
loved uncle, Prince Theobald, lives another ten years
and carries on as he is doing, it may result that Ivan
and Angela may be on the same platform as regards
their fortunes. So far as rank is in question, if the
government continues to play the game they are playing
with our rights and privileges, and if under the new par-
liamentary régime the peasant’s coat is to ascend the
tribune, then I shall ask to be raised to the peasantry.”

The Countesses Theudelinde and Angela received
Ivan in their private sitting-+room—a mark of close in-
timacy. He came in with a constrained air; his face
was pale, and the emotion he could not suppress gave
softness to his usually stern expression. Theudelinde
came to meet him with outstretched hands. When she
drew near she took his in her clasp, and pressed his
fingers warmly. Her lips trembled, and with difficulty
she kept the tears which filled her eyes from coursing
down her cheeks. She could not speak, but simply
nodded to Ivan to take his place before a small table,
upon which a splendid bouquet stood. Theudelinde
sat on the sofa, Angela beside her. The young countess
was simply dressed ; she had not even a flower in her
hair. She was grave, and hardly raised her eyes to Ivan.

It was Theudelinde who broke the rather embarrass-
ing silence.

GOOD-BYE 239

“We have been in terrible trouble about you,” she
said. ‘ You cannot imagine what tortures of anxiety we
have gone through during these two days.”

Angela’s eyes were on the carpet; she was included
in the “we.”

“T cannot forgive myself, countess, for the share I
have had in causing you pain. I can only do penance
for my fault, and to-morrow I am going into banishment
at Bondathal.”

“Ah!” Theudelinde’s voice expressed surprise. “ You
‘are going to leave us? What are you going to do in
Bondathal ?”

“T will return to my business, which I have too long
neglected.”

“ And do you like to live in Bondathal ?”

“T am tranquil there.”

“ Have you relatives ?”

“T have none.”

“You have a household ?”

“So far as I can, I do everything for myself.”

“ You have surely friends and acquaintances who form
a pleasant circle around you?”

“T have only my workmen and my machines.”

“You live there a hermit’s life ?”

“No, countess, for a hermit lives alone, while I have
my books and my work; I am never alone.”

The countess’s face assumed almost a solemn ex-
pression.

“ Herr von Behrend, give me your hand, and stay here.”’

Ivan got up, and bowed low before her. “The kind
feeling which has prompted your words, as well as the
honor you have done me, shall never be forgotten by
me. It is a proof to me of your great goodness, and I
beg of you to accept my heartfelt thanks.”

240 BLACK DIAMONDS r

“Then you will remain? How long?”

“Until to-morrow morning.”

“ Ah,” cried the countess, with a petulant air, “ when
I ask you to stay !”

Her disappointment was so transparent, her annoyance
so sincere, that it was impossible not to feel sorry for
her. Theudelinde looked at Angela as if she expected
her to come to her help; but Angela never raised her
eyes, shaded by their long lashes, while her fingers
plucked nervously at the petals of a marguerite, as if she
were consulting that well-known oracle.

“Countess,” said Ivan, still standing, and with his
hand on the back of his chair, “ when I answer a friend-
ly invitation such as yours with an apparently uncivil
refusal to remain, as you so kindly wish me to do, I
feel that it is incumbent on me to give you my true
reason for withdrawing myself from your society. I
cannot say to you what I would to a mere acquaintance;
I cannot make such excuses as ‘that I have business
at home; that I have been too long here; that I shall
return soon.’ To you I must confess that I go away
because no inducement would prevail on me to remain,
and that when I go I mean never to return. Countess,
this is not my world; here I cou/d not live. I have
spent three months here; I have been a daily guest
in the best circles; I have lived with members of the
highest and most cultivated society, have studied close-
ly their manner of life. I quite agree that these people
have every right to live in what manner they choose;
but I, who have been accustomed to a totally different
manner of life, who have been taught to consider ex-
istence from a different point of view, to reverence the
higher aims and obey its finer instincts, 7 should be
acting a lie and violating my own principles were I to

GOOD-BYE 24t

remain in such an atmosphere and live after such a
fashion. Here, in this exalted rank, you are all solitary
rings, while we in the lower order hang together as links
of one chain. You are totally independent one of the
other, therefore you follow each one his own inclina-
tions. With us the pressure of life knits us more closely
together, and we call egotism and generosity by differ-
ent names from what you do. I am, therefore, not fit
for your circle. I am ashamed to be haughty towards
those upon whom you look down, and I cannot bend
before those whom you delight to honor. I do not
recognize the gods whom you adore, neither can I
mock at my God, and ignore Him as you do. In this
world of yours there is a malicious demon who trans-
forms all that is good in man’s nature, and who prompts
him to laugh and deny every inclination to virtue. Who
tells his friend or neighbor the truth to his face, and
who cares for any one who is not present? Dear friends
race together over hill and dale; but suppose one makes
a false step and breaks his neck, good-bye to him, the
dear friend is gone. Another does not break his neck
in the race, but he dissipates all his fortune ; those who
are running with him never say to him, ‘Step out of
the course; you are going to the bottom.’ All at once
he stumbles, and his fortune and the honors of his an-
cestors lie tumbled in the dust. Good-bye to him; his
name is struck out of the club-list; that dear friend is
no more. It is true we knew yesterday and the day be-
fore yesterday that he would surely get a bad fall, but
no one else knew of it, so we rode with our dear friend
to the last. Now all the world is aware of his tumble
in the dust, therefore we know him no more. If any
one wishes to go on his own way, and live a rational life

to himself, oh, then, he is a coward, a miser, a carpet
16

242 BLACK DIAMONDS

knight! And how do the women fare in this world of
yours? What about domestic life, and the sweet joys
of the home? What tragedies are enacted inside those
splendid mansions, and outside what fun is made of
them by friends and acquaintances! What refinement
in sin! what idolatry of false joys! And when these
are over, what exnui of life, what endless weariness!
No, countess, this life is not for me. I should be poi-
soned in such an atmosphere. You can bear it , you grace
it by your presence ; but for me, I should go mad were
I to remain. Therefore I go, and all that is now left
is to ask your forgiveness for my bold words. I ac-
knowledge my indiscretion; I have spoken bitterly of
society, and yet I stand on its parquet floor. I have
been ungrateful ; I have given expression to my antipa-
thies in the presence of those who have shown toler-
ance towards my faults and my awkward manners; who
have accompanied me to the door of the circle where I
have often played a ridiculous part, and, notwithstand-
ing, have never been laughed at before my face. But,
countess, the words I have uttered I have felt, so to
speak, constrained by your goodness to say. You have,
with extraordinary kindness, asked me to remain, and I
would prove to you that I am forced to leave by a power
stronger than myself.”

During Ivan’s rather lengthy address Countess Theu-
delinde had risen to her feet. Her eyes began to light up,
her face to wear a glorified expression, her lips to move
as if she repeated each word he said ; and when he had
spoken the concluding sentence she seized both his
hands, while she stammered out:

“You speak the truth—the truth—nothing but the
truth; you speak as I spoke forty years ago, when / left
the world as you are doing now! The world is ever the

GOOD-BYE 243

same; it does not change.” Here she wrung her hands
passionately. “Go home,” she sobbed out; “go back
to your solitude, hide yourself under the earth, conceal
yourself in your mine, God will be with you wherever
you are—everywhere! God bless you! God bless you!”

She did not remark that Angela had also risen from
her seat, and as Ivan took his leave she made a step for-
ward, and said, in a firm, decided voice :

“Tf you go away, you do not go alone, for I shall go
with you.” Her whole face glowed as she spoke these
words,

Ivan was master of the situation. Standing upon this
giddy height, he did not for that reason lose his balance.
With wonderful presence of mind he answered the ex-
cited girl:

“You will do well, countess. To-morrow is your
grandfather’s birthday, and early to-morrow you can be
with him. He is ready to clasp you in his arms.”

Angela grew white asa marble statue. She sank back
in her armchair; the leaves she had plucked from the
flower lay scattered at her feet. Ivan bowed to her
respectfully, kissed the hand of Countess Theudelinde,
and quitted the room.

Ah, there are men who never forget their first and only
love !

Not long after Ivan had left, Count Edmund dropped
in to see the ladies. He appeared to come by accident,
but he was dying with curiosity. Countess Angela was
more amiable than usual. When he was leaving, she
said to her cousin :

“ Go to Salista, and tell him that I have inquired for
him.”

Count Edmund was courtier enough to conceal the

244 BLACK DIAMONDS

astonishment he most certainly felt, but as he went
down the stairs he began to hum Figaro’s song from the
Barber of Seville:

‘*The falseness of women
One never can know,
One never can know !”

Countess Angela wrote that same evening to her grand-
father. Ivan was right in saying the next day was his
birthday, and this was her birthday greeting :

“T am not coming home. Adieu.”

For two days every one in Pesth spoke of Ivan and
his duel with Salista; the third day he was forgotten.
Good-bye to him!

CHAPTER XVII

THE LAST REHEARSAL

On the morning of his birthday Prince Theobald re-
ceived a letter. It was from his only grandchild, and
ended with the word “ Adieu.”

The prince’s birthday had been always a festival.
From Angela’s childhood up to the last anniversary of
the day she had each year given him a remembrance.
On this day it had been a bitter gift.

Among his treasures the old man kept a particular
casket, handsomely fitted with gold mountings, in which
he preserved these birthday offerings. There was the
wreath Angela had given him when she was nine years
old ; the scrawl she had written in her childish hand-
writing on a sheet of Bristol-board; the bit of embroid-
ery, worked in pearls and gold, which later she had done
for him with her own hand. To these gifts the prince,
with a deep sigh, added her last letter, with its cold
farewell.

Prince Theobald was easily moved to anger, while
his heart was sensitive to affection. When he reflected
calmly he found he had every right to exact obedience
from his granddaughter. Angela owed a duty to him,
to his position, to the princely house from which she
sprang. If, indeed, her heart stood in the way of agree-
ing to his wishes, one might, perhaps, excuse her; but
Angela, he knew, loved no one. Why, therefore, should

246 BLACK DIAMONDS

she seek to defy him for a mere foolish whim? Prince
Theobald went to Eveline’s last rehearsal with his mind
in a tumult of annoyance and excitement; his blood
circulated wildly. He could send a strange answer to
her farewell. Yes, and he would!

When he reached Eveline’s house the servant ad-
mitted him as a favored /aditué, without a word, and
left him in the drawing-room while he went to announce
him to his mistress. The prince looked round him; it
was the room where Eveline usually gave her represen-
tations. The rose-colored curtains were drawn, one
corner was filled with greenhouse exotics, the air was
perfumed with the scent of the flowers. In another
corner two turtle-doves cooed melodiously, while from
behind a little dosguet a nightingale sang its soft stave
of love, sorrow, and triumph. One could hardly imag-
ine one’s self in an ordinary drawing-room ; it was more
like the throne of a nymph, or fairy, in the depth of a
wood. 7

The prince seated himself upon a sofa, and, taking up
an album which lay upon the table, he turned over the
leaves. It was a collection of photographs of Eveline in
her different parts. He went through it from cover to
cover, examining each tempting and seductive portrait
carefully, and as he did so there rose before his memory
the casket in which Angela’s letters and embroidery
were preserved. His thoughts were so absorbed in
these recollections that, with a start, he found himself at
the last page in the book before him. He roused him-
self to look at the beautiful figure in a common stuff
frock. How captivating, how simple, how lovely !

The nightingale sang, the doves cooed, the air grew
heavy with the scent of the pomegranates. The prince
wondered in what form of enchantment would his hostess

THE LAST REHEARSAL 247

appear. And now there fell on his ear, coming from a
distance, a forgotten tune. Once he had heard it, long
ago ; but the airhe remembered. It moved him strangely.
It was a simple volkslied, the same with which the nurse
was wont to rock the cradle of Angela when she was a
baby—a Slav tune. The text was unknown to him.

After a few minutes the song ceased, the door of Ev-
eline’s dressing-room opened, and she came in—and
how? In what new and captivating costume did she
appear?

She wore a simple white-and-black dress of crape
cloth; her hair was smoothly combed back from her
_ young face, and hung down in a long plait; a white lace
collar was round her throat.

Softly, modestly, and yet with the confidence of a
child, she drew near to the prince, and when she was
close to him she handed him a little sachet of white
satin, upon which was embroidered the kneeling figure
of achild. Then raising her eyes, full of tears, to his
face, she said, in a low voice, which trembled with emo-
tion :

“ My lord, will you accept this little birthday gift from
me? May Heaven preserve your days.”

This scene was so devoid of all acting, it was so full
of feeling and sincerity, that Prince Theobald, thrown
off his guard, forgot himself, and, instead of the formal
“madame,” said:

“ My child—”

At these words the young girl, sobbing wildly, threw
herself into his arms.

“Oh, prince,” she cried, “do not recall those words ;
call me your child. There is on this earth no creature
more desolate, more unhappy than I am.”

Prince Theobald laid his hand kindly upon the fair

248 BLACK DIAMONDS

head of the sobbing girl and kissed her gently on the
forehead.

“Be it so,” he said. ‘Look up and smile, Eveline.
I am in earnest. You are almost a child, and you shall
be one to me. I will be your father—no, your grand-
father. Fathers love their children sometimes, but not
always ; but grandfathers never fail in loving their grand-
children. You shall be my little granddaughter. When
I am sad you will cheer me with your gay chatter; you
will read or sing to me when I cannot sleep; you will
care for me and nurse me when I am ill. I shall adopt
you as my child. I shall take care of you, and provide
you with all that you want. In return you will obey me;
you will listen to me; you will bear with an old man’s
whims and his petulant temper; you will try and please
me. I promise you that you shall be treated well. You
shall be mistress over all that I have; you shall have
everything suitable to the position of my daughter; but
I must exact the obedience of a child.”

Eveline answered by kissing her benefactor’s hand.

“ Are you pleased at my proposal? Do you think you
will be happy ?”

Eveline laughed in childish delight. She danced about
the room in her joy, and fell down at the prince’s feet,
crying out:

“Oh, my dear, dear grandpapa !”

Prince Theobald threw himself back on the sofa and
burst into a harsh, bitter laugh.

Eveline drew back, hurt and frightened by the horrid
discord in the laugh.

“T am not laughing at you, my dear,” said the prince,
kindly. “Come, my pretty granddaughter, and sit be-
side me.” (He had laughed at the answer he could now
make to Angela’s farewell.) He stroked Eveline’s hair

THE LAST REHEARSAL 249

tenderly. ‘Now we must talk seriously. Listen to what
I have to say, for my words are commands. In our fam-
ily there is only one master, whom all obey. First of all,
there is your husband to be considered. It seems to
me he takes the responsibilities of his position lightly.
Still, he must give his consent to my adoption of you.
I don’t apprehend, however, any difficulty in obtaining
it; you may leave that to me. After that you will take
up your residence in my palace in the Maximilian Strasse.
It shall be yours on one condition—that you receive no
visitors without previously consulting me. Kaulmann
is included in this condition. You must haye no inter-
course with him, except on matters of business. Will it
pain you to be separated from him ?”

“T could not be pained by that. We have always
lived apart.”

The prince pressed her hand kindly. ‘“ Poor child!”
he said. “Your husband is a scoundrel. He has
treated you as one of his speculations, and has attained
his end. One thing, however, you receive from him—
his name. He cannot take that from you. By-and-by
you will learn what an inestimable advantage it is to a
woman to bear her husband’s name. It is a passport;
but I do not think Kaulmann meant it in that light.
Well, let us talk no more of him, but of your future. I
shall procure for you an engagement at the Opera-
house. You must have a certain position before the
world, by whom the secret tie between us would not be
understood. The title of actress is like the mantle of a
queen; it gives you the entrée to the salons of a certain
artistic world. Your future shall be my care. You have
talent; if you study you will succeed. You must rise
to the head of your profession, so that when I die you
will be able to support yourself.”

250 BLACK DIAMONDS

“Tf I could only get over my stage-fright!” said
Eveline, sadly.

“You will when you get accustomed to the footlights.
You will learn by experience that in this world, and
especially on the stage, every one is taken at his own
valuation. Any one who makes little of himself goes
cheap. Above all, you must be most careful how you
choose your friends. This is important, and on this
point you must allow me to judge for you. If you feel
a preference for any one person you must tell me with
frankness, and I shall know whether it will be a safe
friendship for you.” |

“Oh, prince,” cried Eveline, “I shall be guided in all

things by you!”

“My child, do not promise too much. Engagements
made in a moment of enthusiasm or sentiment are
speedily forgotten; but there is one promise I would
have from you. There is one man whom you must give
your word to me that you will ever receive—that you
will never break the seal of a letter that comes from
him; that you will never accept a present from him,
never take up a bouquet he may throw you, never notice
his applause. This man must not exist for you; you
must take as little notice of him as if he were a cross-
ing-sweeper. This man is Prince Waldemar.”

“Oh, sir, I already hate him. I shudder at his ap-
proach,”

“T am glad to hear it. He deserves every good
woman’s hatred; but he is rich, young, handsome. He
raves of you. Women are flattered by the love of such
as he; and circumstances may arise to alter your ideas.
Wealth has a wonderful attraction, and poverty is a
great temptation. The time must come when I shall
no longer be here. You must swear to me that when I

:
.

THE LAST REHEARSAL 251

am dead or removed from you you will keep your oath
to accept nothing from Prince Waldemar.”

“IT swear it to you by what is most sacred—the mem-
ory of my dead mother.”

“ Now allow me to kiss your forehead. I am going
to Kaulmann to make the necessary arrangements. I
thank you for your remembrance of my birthday. Your
little present has made me rich. I came here in a very
perturbed state of mind; I go away with a tranquil
heart. I shall always be grateful to you. God bless
you!”

Some days later Eveline removed to Prince Theo-
bald’s palace in the Maximilian Strasse, where she was
surrounded by every splendor and luxury.

The world supposed—and we must acknowledge there
was reason for the supposition—that Kaulmann’s wife
was the Prince’s mistress. The prince imagined that he
would frighten the Countess Angela and bring her to
reason, and Eveline thought she was fulfilling her duty
as a wife when she obeyed her contemptible husband
by sacrificing her good name to further his ambitious
schemes.

At this time, and as the result of Eveline’s obedience,
the Joint-Stock Mining Company received the assent of
Prince Theobald Bondavary to the contract already
signed by his sister, Countess Theudelinde.

And in this manner the Bondavara property passed
away from the last two possessors. If Countess Angela
had followed Ivan Behrend’s advice this would not have
happened, and the property would have been hers.

Why was the Countess Angela so obstinate? Why |

252 BLACK DIAMONDS

did she behave so foolishly as regarded her own inter-
ests, so ungratefully towards her kind grandfather? A
word must be said in her defence. This Prince Sonder-
sheim, whom Prince Theobald wished his granddaughter
to take as her husband, was the same Prince Waldemar
of whom mention has already been made. Prince Theo-
bald knew his character well. We have heard what he
said to Eveline. The world had the worst opinion of
him, and Angela knew what the world thought of her
future husband.

Was it any wonder she refused to give herself to such
aman? Could she act otherwise than she did? Wom-
en are the best judges on this point. Men cannot wit-
ness against themselves.

RE i

CHAPTER XVIII

FINANCIAL WISDOM

THE Bondavara Joint-Stock Company was about to
issue its prospectus ; the speculation had been adver-
tised largely, and now it only waited the necessary
capital of ten millions to start the railway which was
to put the finest coal-mines in the kingdom within the
reach of the markets of the great cities. The specula-
tion did not, however, attract the public. Who knows
about the value of the mine? said one. Who believes
what the papers say? We all know that trick. The
gudgeons held off, and did not rise to the bait offered.

One day Felix Kaulmann brought one of the directors
to see Ivan Behrend, and while these two were in con-
versation he noticed, lying on the table, a piece of
coal from the Bondavara mine, upon which was dis-
tinctly visible the outline of a plant about the size of
a finger.

“Ts this the impression of an antediluvian bird’s
claw?” he asked.

“No,” returned Ivan; “it is a petrified plant.”

“ Ah, I am making a collection of petrifactions.”

“Then take that to add to it,” said Ivan, carelessly.

Felix carried away the piece of coal in his pocket.

Shortly before the prospectus was issued there ap-
peared in one of the best-known scientific journals. an
illustration and article descriptive of the petrified dird’s

254 BLACK DIAMONDS

Joot which had been found in the Bondavara mine
The article was signed “ Doctor Felicius.”

All the savants were excited. “‘ We must see this im-
pression !” they cried.

The discoverer had given to the creature, whose foot-
mark had remained unalterably impressed upon the
tender (!) coal, the learned name of Protornithos lithan-
thracoides.

“Ho, ho!” exclaimed the united bodies of geologists,
physiologists, professors, philosophers, artisans, and ar-
tesian-well borers, “that is indeed a long word!”

One set of learned men declared the thing to be pos-
sible, another denied its possibility.

And why was it not possible? Because at the period
of coal-formations neither birds nor any one of the
mammalia could exist, or did exist, in the bowels of the
earth. There we find only traces of plants, of mussels,
of fish sometimes.

And why is it credible? Because in these days we
make discoveries every day. Humboldt declared that
in the antediluvian world no apes had ever lived, for

€ reason that the fossil of an ape had never been
round. Since then one fossil ape has been discovered
in England, in France three of the Ourang species.

By degrees the strife raged in every newspaper; it
was taken up in English, French, German, and American
publications. At last it was proposed that the matter
should be referred to a commission of five well-known
professors, to whom the petrifaction should be sub-
mitted, and who should decide the question in dispute.
Doctor Felicius offered one thousand ducats to the one
who would prove that his bird’s claw was not a bird’s
claw.

The tribunal of the five learned judges examined the

FINANCIAL WISDOM 255

petrifaction with microscopical attention, and after a long
sitting brought in a unanimous verdict that the impres-
sion was not made by the claw of a Protornithos, but
was that of a leaf belonging to the plant Aznudaria longe-
Jolia; in fact, there could be no question of the bird
species, as the specimen of coal produced was not brown
coal, but the purest black, in which coal formation it was
not possible for even a bird to exist.

Doctor Felix Kaulmann quietly paid the thousand
ducats, and thanked the whole republic of professors
for the service they had rendered to the Bondavara coal;
such an advertisement could not have been obtained at
an expense of forty thousand ducats. Let people say
that the Protornithos was a humbug—who cares? The
reputation of the Bondavara coal was firmly established
on the best scientific grounds.

The period had now arrived when the undertaking
should be floated at the exchange. This, perhaps, is
the greatest science on earth. The stock-exchange has
its good and its bad days. Sometimes it is full of elec-
tricity, the sheep frolic in the meadow; at other times
they hang their heads and will not touch the beautiful
grass. Sometimes they come bleating to the shepherd
to beg that he will shear them, for their wool presses too
heavily on them; another day they butt their heads to-
gether and will not listen to their leader. Again, and
no one can tell why, when the bell-wether begins to run,
all the rest of the flock run after him ; neither the shep-
herd nor his dog can stop them. The science lies in
knowing when there is good weather on the stock-ex-
change. On a favorable day men are in such excellent
humor—there is so much gold in every pocket, every-
thing goes well—that even a company for the excava-
tion and alienation of the icebergs would find bidders,

256 BLACK DIAMONDS

On a bad day the best and safest speculation would get
not a single offer.

It was on one of the good days that the Bondavara
Coal Company made its début at the Vienna Stock-ex-
change. It caught on, and by the day on which the
subscriptions should be paid into the Bank of Kaul-
mann came round it was necessary to have a military
cordon drawn across the street, to allow the stream of
people to pass through in any sort of order. The sub-
scribers had, in fact, collected before the doors early in
the morning ; those who were strong trusted to their
own strength to make way for themselves by elbow force.
In the crush battered hats and torn coats were mat-
ters of small consequence ; verbal insults and personal
injuries, such as pushing and squeezing, were treated as
nothing. The windows of the bank which looked on
the street were burst open, and some excited individual
called out :

“T subscribe ten thousand, a hundred thousand, a
million !”

When at last six o’clock struck, and the doors of the
bank were closed, a stentorian voice called from the
balcony to the crowd below:

“The subscription is closed !”

What a disappointment for those who had not been
able to get their money in in time! They went away
dejected men.

The Bondavara mine had indeed “caught on.” In-
stead of ten millions, eight hundred and twenty thou-
sand millions had been subscribed. Did the subscribers
really possess all that money? Certainly not. Each
one deposited the tenth portion of the sum subscribed
as a guarantee, and this only on paper; actual money
the company did not as yet touch. Those who made

FINANCIAL WISDOM aga

part of the vast crowd, who tore the coats from one an-
other's backs, were not blessed with a superfluity of money,
neither had they the slightest interest in the production
of coal, but to-day it is fine weather on the exchange ;
the Bondavara Company’s bonds stand at par. Every
one wanted. to make this small profit; that done they
care no more for the bonds or the company.

It is, however, a fact that trees do not grow in heaven.
Prince Waldemar was at the head of the countermine,
and he was one of the cleverest, most astute men “on
*change.”

To understand the business the reader should be him-
self a speculator. It is carried on something after this
fashion. Those who want to buy in are oftentimes men
of straw ; they merely want shares to sell them at once
to the first bidder. As a natural consequence, this
lowers the value ; there is a fall, sometimes a total col-
lapse. If the investment is a sound one it recovers
vitality, and the shares go up again. There is, how-
ever, a way to guard against this trick. Almost every
company has a syndicate, whose office is to ascertain
whether the applicants for shares are men of straw or
not. Pending the inquiry, the time is made use of to
employ certain agents, to whom a free gift is made of,
say, five hundred shares. These men immediately set
up a tremendous uproar; they drive up the shares, they
tear the certificates out of one another’s hands, scream-
ing out the high rate at which they are buying. But the
general market sees no shares pass ; the experienced
ones know that this is all a well-acted farce, and that
any one who has ready-money need only go to the
fountain-head and buy as many shares as he wants at
par. On the other hand, the bears are waiting their
time to rush in and cause such a depreciation as will

7

258 BLACK DIAMONDS

run down the shares to almost nothing. When they
have got them at this low figure they may allow them to
rise again. |

The only one who loses in this cruel game is the
small capitalist, who has ventured, poor soul, on ice, and
who has sacrificed his little all at the shrine of the
golden calf, taken his carefully hoarded store, his hard-
earned salary out of his drawer, and has cast it upon
these unprofitable waters, tempted by the tales of high
interest, and the like. All of a sudden the bears have
rushed in, the mine has exploded, his hopes are. blown
into air, vanished like a dream; his shares are so much
waste-paper. He goes home certainly a sadder if not
a wiser man. Well for him if he is not a begger. This
is how they manage matters on the stock-exchange.

a cc eDmUmUC”-—Cr—S

CHAPTER XIX

FILTHY LUCRE

In the town of X there is a street called Greek
Street. It is a circle, or crescent, of pretty houses,
which at one time were erected and peopled by Greek
merchants. In the middle of the street stands a church
with a facade of marble and a splendid gilt tower, whose
bells are the most tuneful in the whole town. It is said
that when those bells were cast the Greeks threw, with
both hands, silver coins into the liquid metal.

Old Francis Csanta was now the last of the race.
Once he had been a jovial fellow, a careless, free liver,
towards ladies a gallant cavalier, among men a desperate
gambler. With years he became silent, moody, miserly,
avoided the company of his fellow man or woman, and
was a hater of music and all pleasure. The more he in-
dulged in solitude the worse his peculiarities grew. So
soon as one of his former friends, or relations, or boon
companions died, he bought the house in which they
had lived. By degrees the whole street belonged to him ;
only one house remained, and that next door to his own.
This had been occupied by a connection of his who
had left one daughter. Strangely enough, she had not
followed the general custom of celibacy, but had married,
and was the wife of a music-master, who enjoyed the Mag-
yar name of Belenyi. This pair had in due course a son
born to them, to whom they gave the name of Arpad,

260 BLACK DIAMONDS

This vexed old Csanta sorely. Why should the last
remaining Greek girl have married—above all, married
a music-master? Why should there be a son? Why
should that son be baptized Arpad? And why should
these annoying circumstances take place under his very
nose? ‘The house, too, was an offence; the only house
in the street that did not belong to him. The church
was his; no one went in except himself; the clergyman
said mass for him only. He was the patron, the con-
gregation, the curator, the vestryman, the supporter;
he filled every office ; he was everything. When he was
dead the church would be closed, the grass would grow
upon the threshold.

The generation in the next house showed no sign of
dying; the boy Arpad was as lively as an eel. At the
age of five he threw his ball over the roof, and it fell
into the old Greek’s garden, who there and then con-
fiscated it. The lad gave him much more annoyance.

About this time evil days came to the country. The
Hungarians and the Austrians killed one another.
The reason of their so doing is hard to find. Histori-
ans of the present day say that it was all child’s play,
and that the cause lay in the refusal of the Hungarian
sepoys—who are Mohammedans—to bite off cartridges
which had been prepared with the fat of swine—the
German method. Or did this happen in India? Now-
adays it is all uncertain; mostly what is known about it
comes through the songs of the poets, and who believes
them?

What interests us in this old story is that it has to do
with Ivan Behrend, and how he came to dwell in the
Belenyi’s house. It so happened that he was one of
the regiment who repulsed an assault on the town, and
in consequence he was billeted on the music-master and

FILTHY LUCRE 261

his wife. He was well liked. He was young then, and
had good spirits. One day the poor musician, coming
home through the streets, was struck by a shell, and
brought into his house dead. Such things happen oc-
casionally in time of war. Little Arpad was an orphan,
and then it was that Ivan adopted him as his son. A
short time after this Ivan laid down his arms and re-
tired into private life. Why he did so, and where he
went, is quite immaterial. Before he went Ivan gave
the widow Belenyi all the gold he had with him, so that
with this money Arpad’s musical education might be
paid for. He did not care for the gold, and he could
not have employed it better. If he had taken it with
him, who knows into what worthless hands it would
have fallen?

He hadn’t been long gone when a Hungarian gov-
ernment official stood in the market-place of X , and,
to the accompaniment of much drumming, gave out the
government order that all German bank- notes should
be brought to the great square, and there made into a
funeral - pile and set fire to. Any one refusing to obey
this order should be dealt with accordingly. Every one
knew what this meant, and all who didn’t wish /0 de dealt
with hastened to bring their bank-notes, which were then
and there burned.

The widow Belenyi had her little savings, a few hun-
dred gulden. What should she do? It went hard with
her to see her money thrown into the fire. She went to
her rich neighbor and besought him to help her, and to
change her money into Hungarian bank-notes, The old
Greek at first refused to listen, but by-and-by he relent-
ed and did as she wished. He even did more, for after
a week had passed he came to her and said :

“TJ will no longer keep the money which your father

262 BLACK DIAMONDS

lent to me at the rate of six per cent. Here it is for
you—ten thousand gulden; take it,and make what you
can of it.” As he spoke he paid her the whole sum in
Hungarian bank-notes.

A week later another commandant arrived in the
town; this one was a German. The next morning more
drumming was heard in the market-place, and the order
was given that all who possessed Hungarian bank-notes
must give them up to have them burned. Those who
refused would be shot or hanged.

The poor widow ran weeping to her neighbor, and
asked what she should do. The whole sum he had
given her lay in her drawer untouched. If it were taken
from her she and her child must beg or starve. Why
had he given her this money? Why had he changed
her German notes if he knew that this was going to
happen?

“ How could I know it?” shrieked Csanta; and, still
screaming, he went on to lament over himself. “If you
are beggared, so am I—ten, thousand times more beg-
gared than any one. I haven’t a copper coin in the
house. I don’t know how I can pay even for a bit of
meat. I shall have a hundred thousand bank - notes
burned. I amruined! I am a beggar!”

And he fell to cursing both Germans and Hungarians,
until the widow Belenyi implored him not to shriek so
loud, else he would be heard, and, God help us all!
hanged.

“Let them hear, then! Let them hang me! I don’t
care. I shall go to the market- place and tell them to
their faces they are robbers, and if they won’t hang me
I’ll hang myself. I am only considering whether I shall
suspend myself from the pump-handle or from the stee-
ple of the tower.”

FILTHY LUCRE 263

The widow besought him, for Heaven’s sake, not to
do such a terrible deed.

“And what’s to become of me? Am I to go round
with a hat and beg for a penny? Here, these are my
last halfpence.”

He drew a few coins from his pocket, and began to
weep piteously; his tears flowed in streams. The poor
woman tried her best to console him, She begged him
not to despair; the butcher and the baker knew him,
and would trust him. She was tempted to offer him a
piece of twenty groschen.

“Oh, you will soon see!” sobbed theold man. ‘Come
to-morrow morning early, and you will see me hanging
from a hook in the passage. I couldn’t survive this !”

What could she do? The poor soul carried her Hun-
garian bank-notes to the commander, and saw them con-
sumed in the market-place.

Oh, it was a laughable joke! To this day when peo-
ple talk of it their eyes fill with tears.

For the widow, and many like her, there followed
months and years of grinding poverty. She had lost all
the capital saved for her by her father; there remained
‘nothing but the house. The front rooms she let as a
shop, and in the back she lived and eked out her miser-
able income as best she could.

For a long time she looked with a frightened gaze at
her neighbor’s passage, expecting to see the old man
hanging from an iron hook; but she was spared this
sight. The old man had no notion of ending his days.
He had certainly lost a few thousand gulden, but these
were only the chaff; the corn was safe. He had a
secret hiding-place to which he could have access by a
secret passage underneath his house; the cellar was, in
fact, underneath the water. A mason from Vienna had

264 BLACK DIAMONDS

built it for him, and the people of the town knew noth-

ing of it. The cellar was full of casks, and every cask
was full of silver; the old man’s cellar concealed a
treasure. By means of secret machinery constructed
in his bedroom the owner was able by touching a spring
to open a sluice concealed in the bed of the stream, and
thus in a few minutes to submerge his cave. No rob-
ber could have penetrated there. All the gold and
silver pieces which came into Csanta’s hand found
their way to this subterranean hiding-place, and never
saw the light of day again.

Meantime his neighbor, the widow, suffered the grip
of poverty; she sewed her fingers to the bone to keep
things together and to earn their daily bread. The
gold pieces Ivan had given she wouldn’t have touched
even to save herself from starvation; they were used
for the purpose for which he gave them—for Arpad’s
musical education, and musical instruction was so dear.
The child was a genius.

But living grew dearer, work harder to get. The
widow was forced to get a loan upon the house; she
asked her neighbor, and he gave it readily. The loan
grew and grew until it reached a good sum of money,
and then Csanta asked it back. Frau Belenyi was not
able to refund, and the old man instituted proceedings,
and as he was the only mortgagee he got it for one-
quarter its real value. The amount over and above the
debt and the costs were handed to the widow, and
there was nothing left but to leave. Madame Belenyi
took her son to Vienna, to begin in earnest his artistic
education.

The old Greek possessed the whole street; there was
no one left to annoy him in his immediate neighbor-
hood ; he suffered neither from children, dogs, or birds.

FILTHY. LUCRE 265

And his treasure increased more and more. The casks
which filled the cellar that lay beneath the water were
filled to overflowing, and the contents were always
silver.

One day Csanta received a visit. It was an old ac-
quaintance, a banker from Vienna, whose father had
been a friend of the old man’s, and at whose counting-
house he could always get exchange for his bank-notes
and other little accommodations. The visitor was Felix
Kaulmann.

“To what circumstance do I owe the honor? What
good news do you bring me?”

“My worthy friend, I shall not make any preamble.
Time is precious to you, as it is to me, and therefore I
go straight to the point. By the authorization of the
Prince of Bondavara I have been placed at the head
of a joint-stock company, who have just started some
gigantic coal-works, whose capital has risen from ten
millions to eight hundred and twenty millions.”

“That is eighty-two millions more than you would re-
quire.”

“The money is the least part. What I stand in need
of is well-known men for the administration, for the re-
sult of the whole undertaking rests upon the zeal, the
capability, the intelligence of the governing body.”

“Well, such men are not difficult to find if there is a
prospect of a good dividend.”

“The dividend is not to be despised. The bonus to
each member of the administration will be, yearly, five or
six thousand gulden.” .

“Really? What a nice income !—a stroke of luck for
those who are chosen.”

“Well, I have chosen you for a member, my worthy
friend,”

266 BLACK DIAMONDS

“An honor, a great honor for me; but how much
must I put down before I am admitted ?”

“Neither before nor after shall you be asked to put
down anything. The only condition is that every mem-
ber of the administration must hold one thousand
shares.”

“That means paying in a deal of money, my young
friend.”

“T didn’t say a word of paying in; I only spoke of
holding.”

“But, my young friend, although I am only a provin-
cial merchant in a small way, I know that, so far as
money is in question, to subscribe is another word for
payment.”

“With this exception—if both subscriptions equalize
one another. Ah, I see you do not like even a question
of subscribing. Well, listen. We will suppose that you
take one thousand shares in my coal company, and at
the same time I give you an undertaking to take over
one thousand shares at par from you; in this way we
are even, and neither of us loses a shilling.”

“Hem! But what is the necessity for such a joke?”

“T will be frank with you. The world has its eyes
fixed upon the actions of important men; if these stir
in any affair, the others stir likewise. If on ’change it
is known that you, my worthy friend, have bought a
thousand shares, a hundred small speculators will imme-
diately invest in shares. In this way you secure to your-
self a sinecure which will give you five or six thousand
gulden, and I will secure for my undertaking a splendid
future. Now, have I not spoken the truth ?”

“H’m! I will consider the affair. Meet me to-mor-
row at the restaurant.”

Csanta spent all the morning in the restaurant; he

FILTHY LUCRE 267

listened to all that was said of the Bondavara spec-
ulation, and came to the conclusion that he would
risk nothing, since all danger was covered by Kaul-
mann’s bond. When Felix arrived he had made up his
mind.

“Good! I shall draw the shares; but none of them
shal] hang round my neck, for I don’t like paper. Paper
is only paper, and silver is always silver.”

“Don’t be afraid, my friend; I shall retain all shares
for myself. I deposit the caution for you, and I pay the
instalments.”

Felix completely satisfied the old Greek as to his up-
right intentions in the matter of the shares, and left in
his hands the undertaking in which he pledged himself
to take them over at par.

Now began the manceuvre behind the scenes. The
agents, the makers of books, the brokers rushed in ; the
Bondavara shares rose rapidly. The syndicate had, all
chis time, never given a share into any one’s hand. The
bears had not yet begun to dance. Herr Csanta had be-
come a student of the newspapers. True, his eyes never
left one column, but that contained for him the tree of all
knowledge; it spoke golden truth. With amazement he
read how every day the value of the Bondavara shares
increased. The profit grew higher and higher; it went
up in leaps and bounds ; sixteen, eighteen, at last twenty
gulden over par. Those who had put down two hundred
thousand gulden had won in two weeks twenty thousand
gulden. A splendid speculation, indeed, in less than a
fortnight to make a fortune! Compare the case of an
honest, hard-working usurer like himself. What difficul-
ties he had to go through to extract twenty per cent. out
of his miserable clients! The work was hardly worth the
gain; the fatigue of trapping some silly idiot, the odium

268 BLACK DIAMONDS

and hatred incurred by exacting his rights from some
miserable beggar with a family, or taking the pillow from
under the head of a dying man ; these things go against
the grain, but they must be done if you want to fill your
cellar with silver coins. And here a wretched, good-for-
nothing speculator, by merely a stroke of the pen, makes
in two short weeks a fortune. Luck is not evenly meted
out to mortals.

The time had come when Felix Kaulmann could de-
mand from Csanta the thousand shares upon which he
could now make a profit of twenty thousand gulden. No
honest man could allow such an iniquitous robbery of
his rights, or, at least, not without making a struggle. It
is only a fool who allows himself to be made a tool of.
A man may steal for himself; to rob the widow and the
orphan to fill another man’s purse, that is wicked and
immoral.

When Felix Kaulmann came again to the town of
X——,, the old Greek received him with great ceremony
and seeming cordiality.

“T hope you bring good news, my dear young friend,”
he said, clasping Kaulmann’s hand in his.

“‘T have come about that little business of the shares,”
returned Felix, with the air of a man of business. “ You
remember our agreement ?”

“What shares do you mean? Oh, the Bondavara! Is
it pressing ?”

“Yes, for the first instalment of interest is now due;
two gulden each bond, which, as the shares are in my
name, will make an addition to my savings.”

“Oh, so you intend to call in the shares?”

“ But that was our agreement.”

“And if I do not wish to surrender more than five
hundred ?”

FILTHY LUCRE 269

Kaulmann drew in his lips. “ Well, I suppose I should
be content.”

“ And if I do not wish to surrender any of the shares ?”

Kaulmann looked at him uneasily. “Sir,” he said,
“T thought I was dealing with an honest man. Resides,
you forget I gave you a written agreement.”

“ My friend, my good young friend, that is true. You
gave me a written agreement signed with your name,
which covenanted that you were obliged to take these
shares from me at par; but I gave you no signed docu-
ment, and there is nothing that can force me to hand
you over these shares. There you have the whole thing
in a nutshell.”

“ But, my good sir,” repeated the banker, taking hold
of the lapels of the old Greek’s coat, “listen to me.
Don’t you know that it is one of the laws in the Chamber:
of Commerce that there is no need of written indenture ?
If I take shares from you I have only to make a note in
my pocket-book. Surely you know that this is the law
on ’change ?”

“What do I know of the laws they make there? I
never set my foot in the place.”

Kaulmann made an effort to laugh. “I must confess
I have never been so sold by any one. I have found
my master. Will you give me none of the shares?”

“Not half a one.”

“Very good. Then you must count out the sum-total
agreed upon.”

“Certainly. I shall pay down the money.”

“T mean the whole sum. Do you understand ?”

“Undoubtedly. Don’t be afraid ; the money is ready ;
this house is bail for more than that amount. If needs
be I can pay you in gold, if needs be in silver.”

“Well,” cried Kaulmann, bringing his clinched fist

270 BLACK DIAMONDS

down on the table, “I would never have believed that
in this little town I should have been so sold.”

Csanta suspected that were he to fail in paying his
first instalment his shares might be annulled. He
therefore lost no time in placing the first thirty-five per
cent. into the bank. But this was not an easy task. To
transport seventy thousand silver gulden to Vienna
would necessitate a conveyance, and not only a con-
veyance, but an escort of gendarmes, and this para-
phernalia would make people stare. Well, let them
stare !

When the old man descended into his cellar and
looked at the casks which contained the necessary sum,
his heart beat, his limbs trembled. These casks con-
tained the treasure he had garnered up ; his solid capital.
It was foolish, he knew, still he could not help tears
coming to his eyes as he chose seven casks from the
twenty which should be the first to go. He wept as he
spoke to these children of his heart.

“You shall have no cause to reproach me, you who
remain here,” he said ; “ those that are now leaving you
shall soon return. They are going on a safe journey,
not ona wild, venturous sea, where there would be danger
of shipwreck, but on a safe railroad, to increase and
multiply. Once I have the shares in my hand, they
shall not stay a night in my possession. I shall sell
them at once, and get back mysilver. The profits, too,
I shall change into silver. Instead of seven casks I
shall return with nine.’

In this way did the old Greek miser comfort himself
for the temporary loss of his silver pieces. He counted
them that night when the day’s work was done, and
then set about arranging the transport of his treasure to

Vienna.

FILTHY LUCRE 271

The day before Csanta had decided upon this step
the “ bears ” had begun to explode their mine. It was,
however, only a trial; they wanted merely to show their
teeth. Specie was in demand; if silver goes up, paper
securities fall. The seven casks from Csanta’s cellar
arrived opportunely. Two wagons laden with leaden
casks, and guarded by gendarmes with drawn sabres as
they went slowly through the streets, attracted the atten-
tion of passers-by. When it came to be known that
these casks were full of silver, and that all this silver
was to be paid as the first instalment of some Bonda-
vara shares, there was considerable excitement. Peru
and Brazil were opening their floodgates. The firm of
Kaulmann very naturally made as much as possible of
the event, as being a feather in their commercial cap.
The delivery arrived, as it happened, during the absence
of the chief cashier, which involved an immense amount
of running hither and thither in search of him, as it was
necessary Csanta should receive his receipt. In the
afternoon the shares were handed over and the silver
was counted. All this made much stir and business in
the Kaulmann Bank. Kaulmann intrusted the conduct
of the affair to his most capable clerk. He instructed
him how to act in regard to the matter, and added that
if the old Greek gave him a gratuity, he was to kiss his
hand, and to place himself altogether at his service.
This man’s name was Spitzhase.

Later in the day Spitzhase brought Csanta his ac-
count, regularly drawn up, together with the shares, and
begged to inform his excellency “that he had brought
seven hundred gulden more than was necessary, for the
reason that since yesterday silver had risen one per
cent.”

“H’m!” thought Csanta, “this is an honest fellow; I

272 BLACK DIAMONDS

shall give him a gratuity.” And he gave him a bank-
note of twenty gulden.

Spitzhase overpowered him with thanks; then took his
hand, and kissed it.

“H’m!” thought Csanta, “I have given him too
much; perhaps five gulden would have been sufficient.”
Aloud, he said:

“T made a mistake. Give me that note back; I will
give you another.” And he gave him a bank-note of
the value of five gulden.

Spitzhase thanked him warmly, and kissed his hand.

“H’m! this is really a good fellow — quite after my
heart. Give me back those five gulden ; here is another
note. I made a mistake.” And he handed him a note
of fifty gulden.

Spitzhase kissed both his hands, and showered bless-
ings upon him. Csanta was now convinced that he
had made this man his friend for life.

“Tf I had brought the silver to-morrow, I should have
got more,” he said, reflectively.

“No, you may believe me, to-day was the right mo-
ment ; to-morrow silver will fall two per cent.”

“ How do you know?”

‘Oh, I am acquainted with the weather on the stock-
exchange.”

“You are? Then why don’t you speculate if you
know so well the ins and outs?”

“Because one must have money, and I have none. I
can only dabble in trifling matters.”

“ Are you well known on ’change ?”

“T spend all my time there, except when I am
asleep.” |

“Then take me to the stock-exchange, I should like
to look about me,”

FILTHY LUCRE 293

Csanta meant, as soon as he could find a suitable pur-
chaser, to sell his Bondavara shares.

“One can go in the evening?” he asked, as they went
along.

“That is the most lively time, particularly on a day
like this.”

Csanta was now introduced into the Temple of Mam-
mon. Even outside the door he could hear a strange
noise and tumult of voices, and as he stepped inside his
head almost reeled at the strange spectacle. The large
hall was stuffed full of men, who circulated in a narrow
circle. Each one spoke, or rather shrieked, as if all
were quarrelling. They gesticulated with their hands,
holding up pieces of paper in the air, making signs and
figures on their fingers, and screaming out names and
making offers until the noise was deafening.

Spitzhase, who was perfectly at home, led Csanta
through the throng. The old merchant was indignant
at the manner in which he was pushed and driven about,
no one even begging pardon for his rudeness. He
would have liked to know what was meant by the words
so constantly repeated, “I give!” “I take!” His atten-
tion, however, was at once riveted by another word
which seemed to be in every man’s mouth, and which
gradually became plainer: “Puntafar! Puntafar!” It
dawned upon him that it must be Bondavar. He
stopped and timidly asked one of those who were shriek-
ing, “Who wants ‘Puntafar’? What is the price at
which the Bondavara shares are selling?”

“ Thirty over par.”

Csanta’s eyes blazed. “It is impossible; it cannot
be!” he said. “ Yesterday they were at twenty.”

“That was yesterday. To-day they are thirty. If

you want to buy to-morrow you will have to pay thirty-
18

274 BLACK DIAMONDS

five. The whole world is buying the scrip. A rich
nabob from India has brought all his silver here, and
bought Puntafar shares. The Dey of Morocco and a
Russian prince, who both own silver mines, have each
ordered ten thousand shares. Even the little folk, who
have only a few hundreds, are tearing the shares out of
one another’s hands; they won’t have anything but
Puntafar. What will you take ?”

Csanta had very little idea that he united in his own
person the East Indian nabob, the Dey of Morocco, and
the Russian prince, as likewise that it was he who had
caused this uproar. Far from such an idea crossing his
mind, he believed that this man was making game of
him.

“Oh, sir,” he said, “thirty gulden exchange is too
much, I can give you a thousand Bondavara shares at
five-and-twenty.”

These words caused such a tumult as hardly ever had
been heard on ’change. Every one crowded round
Csanta; he was set upon from all sides—behind, before,
at his side, on his back—he was fairly mobbed. People
fought with one another over his head, and flourished
their fists in his face.

“Who is he? Who is he? A bear, a conspirator, a
thief, an agent! Out with him! Bonnet him! Pitch
him out! Twenty-five, will he take? Give him twenty-
five blows on his back and tear his coat in pieces !”

Spitzhase could hardly manage to get him out. He
was in a deplorable condition when he issued forth, his
hat smashed, his clothes all awry, his face pale, his breath
short. Once in the open air his rescuer began to scold
him.

“What the devil did you do that for? Just at the
moment when the cabal was silenced and trampled in

FILTHY LUCRE 275

the dust, to come forward as one of them to run down
your own shares !”

“T did not want to run them down; I only wanted to
ascertain if it was really the case that such an advance
on the price could be realized.”

“Oh, that’s the way with you,” returned Spitzhase, in
an aggrieved tone. “ Well, I can tell you the exchange
is not a good place to try jokes in. It was all quite au-
thentic. The Bondavara scrip is as sound as ready-
money. To-day it is thirty for scrip, eight-and-twenty
for gold; to-morrow it will be thirty-two, and so on—al-
ways getting higher. If I had the money I would put
in my last farthing. I know what I know, and I have
studied the weather on ’change, but what I have learned
from Kaulmann I cannot tell; my lips are sealed.”

Upon this Csanta pressed the clerk very hard. “ You
can tell me,” he said; “I am already in the boat. What
have you heard ?”

“ Well,” said Spitzhase, lowering his voice and looking
round cautiously, “ what you say is true; you are a large
holder of stock, so perhaps I may give you this hint.
Puntafar has not reached its highest point yet. Oho! they
are very tricky who hold over. I am in the secret, and
there is a plan, the details of which I durst not reveal,
which will give such an impulse as will drive the shares
still higher. In six months one impulse will be given,
in another six months another. Oh, the world will open
its eyes and its ears; but what I say to you, you will see!
In a year’s time Puntafar will be at one hundred over
par.”

“A hundred!” repeated Csanta, falling back against
the wall in his astonishment. But he soon recovered
himself. He was angry with Spitzhase for treating him
as if he were a fool,

276 BLACK DIAMONDS

“TI tell you what you are,” he said ; “you are a great
boaster. Leave me; I shall get home by myself.”
And he dismissed Spitzhase angrily.

The next morning his first word was to ask the waiter
for the papers. His eyes eagerly sought the exchange
column, and there, just as Spitzhase had prophesied,
silver currency had dropped two per cent. Bondavara
stood at thirty to thirty-two florins, and what is written
is gospel truth.

“Not one shall I sell!” cried Csanta, clapping his
hands.

And then he got up and dressed himself. Here was
a stroke of luck. It was like a fairy-tale; a man had
only to leave the window open at night and next morn-
ing his pockets are full of gold.

He was swallowing his breakfast when Spitzhase was
ushered in, his face beaming with triumph.

‘Now, what did I tell you?” he cried, as he laid down
the paper before Csanta, pointing with his finger to the
exchange column.

The old Greek said not a word of having read the
good news; he nodded his head as he answered, with
great composure:

“Ts it really true? Well, that is satisfactory.”

“T rather think so; by the evening they will be up to
thirty-two. Oh, if I had only some money !”

“Well, here is another note for you. Go and buy
yourself a share. There, don’t kiss my hand. I can-
not allow it.” But he did allow it.

“Don’t sell the share,” he went on; “keep it for
yourself. When the next instalment comes due I will
pay it for you. For God’s sake, don’t kiss my hand
again! I will do more than that for you. If you kiss
my hand every time I shall have no hands left. Re

FILTHY LUCRE 277

member that I shall expect you to show your gratitude
in a more tangible manner. You must let me know the
first thing if the head of your bank is going to try any
tricks with the bonds. You will be sure to give me the
first news as to when I should sell. Do you understand
me? Good! Now that you have a share yourself you
have an interest in the matter, and if we sell our shares
are we not entitled to a commission ?”

Spitzhase kissed every finger of the old man’s hand.

“J implore one thing of you, master,” he said ; “don’t
betray me to Kaulmann. If he found out that I be-
trayed his secrets to any one he would dismiss me on
the spot.”

“Don’t be afraid. You have to do with an honorable
gentleman,” returned the Greek, with an air of dignity.

The honorable gentleman believed that he had won
over the honest clerk to betray the secrets of the honor-
able banker, his employer. It was an honorable game
all round. We shall see which of the honorable gentle-
men played it best.

CHAPTER XX

NO, EVELINE!

It was high time Ivan returned to his coal-mine; he
was needed there. While he was fighting duels in Pesth,
strange things were happening in Bondathal. Not far
from his workmen’s colony there arose enormous build-
ings with almost miraculous quickness. As often hap-
pens when no difficulty is made as to price, the only
question asked is, how soon shall the work be finished?
The shares had not yet been issued, and the company
had already spent in the interest of the undertaking a
million of money. Everything was pressed forward at
fever-heat. Here was a new invention for making tiles
by machinery, there a donkey-engine supplied the mate-
rials for building the walls. The earthworks were in a
most advanced condition, the chimneys smoked, the roofs
were covered, a whole street was already built, a new town
was rising as if by magic.

Of all this activity Ivan had been kept in ignorance
by his assistant, Rauné, who had, likewise, been silent
as to another disturbing element which had made its
appearance for the first time among the workmen, and
which disputed the palm with “ choke-damp ” and “ foul
air,” and was quite as fatal as either. This new element
was “a strike.” A portion of Ivan’s workmen struck for
higher wages, otherwise they would join the new coal-
mine, which was called “ The Gentleman’s Colony.” It

NO, EVELINE! 279

offered nearly double the wages, certainly more than
the half again, of what Ivan paid. This happened after
Rauné had explained to the men that he had accepted
the office of director, which had been offered to him by
the new company, and he naturally wished to take with
him the best and cleverest among Ivan’s men, so that
they, too, might profit by the higher wages. Who could
resist such advantageous offers? Miners are like all
other men; they have their price.

Ivan now gnawed the bitter bread of self-reproach.
He saw the folly he had committed in taking into his
service and admitting into the secrets of the business
the paid director of a company created to bring about
his own ruin.

A scientific man is not a good business man. While
he was making investigations as to the probability of
animal life existing in the antediluvian strata of coal-
mines, he was blind to the danger of a rival company
close to his own factory. Nay, more; he had allowed
himself to be hoodwinked by an inferior intelligence, and
had fallen into the trap set for him by his old friend
Felix. Ivan was philosopher enough to accommodate
himself to circumstances. There was little use, he told
himself, in crying over spilt milk; he had broad shoul-
ders, and they should, if it were possible, push the wheel
of fortune. But though he said this, he had little hope
of succeeding.

On his return, and when he got, as he thought, to the
bottom of the evil, he called his workmen together.

“Comrades,” he said, “a great undertaking has risen
up beside us; the company of the new coal-mines offers
you wages which I give you my word of honor it is im-
possible to pay without considerable loss fo themselves.
Up to the present I have worked my mines with a cer-

280 BLACK DIAMONDS

tain amount of profit; I offer you to-day, in addition to
your usual wages, a share out of this profit. For the
future we shall divide with one another what we earn.
At the end of the year I shall lay my accounts before
you; one of your number, chosen by yourselves, shall
examine and audit them, and according to the wages of
each man and the work he has done he shall receive his
share. If you agree to this fair offer I shall continue the
work. If, however, you think it better for your interests
to take the higher wages offered by the company, I shall
not enter into competition with men who have millions
to spend ; it would be a folly on my part. I shall, there-
fore, sell them my mine, and you may then be certain of
one thing, that when they have both mines in their own
hands, and find that no rivalry is possible, the rate of
wages will be lowered. To those who stand by me I
offer a contract for ife; the profits of this mine, so long
as I live, shall be divided between myself and my work-
men.”

This was an excellent stroke, especially as the com-
pany could not imitate it. More than half the men
closed with Ivan’s offer, and undertook to remain with
him. A great number, however, influenced by paid
agents, who were sent about to stir them up, went over
to the “Gentleman’s Colony.”

Those who remained had a great deal to suffer from
the ones who left. Not a Sunday passed without fights
taking place between the two parties.

Ivan soon heard that his powerful rival had found a
way of checkmating him. His customers, to whom he
sent large consignments not only of coal but also of
copper and iron bars, wrote to him that the new Bonda-
vara Coal Company had offered the same class of goods
at fifty per cent. less, and that therefore, unless he was

NO, EVELINE! 281

prepared to make a similar reduction, they could not
deal with him. Fifty per cent. higher wages and fifty
per cent. less profit means working for nothing. Rauné
had Ivan’s business in the hollow of his hand; he could
ruin it, and he meant to do so. Ivan saw this quite
clearly, but he did not lose heart. He wrote to all his
former customers that it was not possible to give either
the coal or the iron a farthing cheaper, not if it hung
round his neck as a dead weight. The consequence
was his coal and his iron accumulated in his ware-
houses ; scarcely a wagon with his name was to be seen
in the streets of Bondathal. He had to work the mine
and the foundry for himself alone.

For the men who had remained true to him there was,
indeed, a bad outlook. Their former comrades jeered
at them in the open street. “Where is the profit?”
was a popular cry. Ivan tried to quiet the disap-
pointed men; he asked them to wait patiently. By the
end of the year, he prophesied, they would be on the
right side. To give things for nothing was not trade,
and if the company chose to do it he wasn’t going to
follow such a suicidal example.

The great buildings of the new colony being now
completed, the directors of the company announced
that they would hold high festival in honor of the open-
ing of the undertaking. The principals, directors, man-
agers, shareholders were to come from Vienna and be
entertained at a banquet. The largest room in the fac-
tory was fitted up as a dining-room, the tables being
laid for workmen as well as for the distinguished com-
pany of strangers. It was widely circulated that the
prince was coming. The company had chosen him as
their president. Both the princes were patrons of com-
mercial and industrial undertakings, but Prince Theo-

282 BLACK DIAMONDS

bald possessed an extraordinary financial talent; any
speculation he engaged in was a sound and sure one, so
it was said, as also that he had taken a million shares in
the new company. It was so far true that Kaulmann
had offered: him this million, which was to increase the
value of the Bondavara property, but it is needless to
remark that the million of shares had no tangible exist-
ence. Previous to the inaugural ceremony a religious
service was to take place, and, as was only fitting, this
was to be conducted by the eminent Abbé Samuel.
Before such distinguished guests it would hardly be in
keeping to have a man such as pastor Mohak, although |
it was true that he slaved all through the year among
the people.

The guests came from the castle, where they had ar-
rived the previous day. ‘They drove into the town in
splendid coaches. That of Prince Theobald came first,
with his armorial bearings emblazoned on the panels.
Behind two footmen with dazzling liveries of scarlet and
gold. On the box the coachman with a powdered wig
and three-cornered hat. The coach drew up at the
church door, the footmen jumped down and opened the
carriage door. There alighted first an old gentleman
with white hair, a clean-shaven, soft, friendly face, and a
very distinguished air. He gave his hand to a splen-
didly dressed lady in a velvet and lace costume, who
descended from the equipage with graceful nonchalance.
The crowd saw her violet velvet boots and embroidered .
silk stockings.

“ What a great lady!” cried the boors to one another.
“She must be a princess, for all the gentlemen at the
church door received her hat in hand.”

Only one man in a rough workman’s coat called out:
“ Evila!”’

NO, EVELINE! 283

It was Peter Saffran who had recognized her.

The lady heard the exclamation, and turned a laugh-
ing face to the crowd outside.

“No,” she said; “it is Aveline.”

She bowed her head sweetly as she crossed the thresh-
old of the church.

Eveline’s vanity had brought her to Bondathal; she
wanted to show her silk stockings to her former com-
panions, who had seen her in wooden shoes with no
stockings, except on occasions. It was the vanity of
the peasant girl—not pride, take notice, but mere van-
ity. She did not look down upon her friends, as some
upstarts do; she wanted to do good to every one of
them. She was ready to give them money, to earn their
grateful thanks, particularly to those who had been
kind to her in the old days; to those especially she
wished to prove that, although she had risen to a high
position, she had never forgotten how much she owed
to them. She would now, in her turn, do them good.
Eveline had looked forward to seeing her former bride-
groom. Most probably he had long since consoled
himself for her loss, and had married another. A pres-
ent of money would make Aim happy. She had also
counted on meeting Ivan. She had the most grateful
remembrance of his goodness, and she was glad to think
she had it in her power to prove her gratitude by deeds.
She could not give him a present, but she could tell him
of the dangers that threatened his property from the
large undertaking of the company, and she promised
herself to use all her influence to make the best terms
for Ivan in case he would consent to arrange matters
with his gigantic rival.

Yes, it was indeed the vain desire of doing good that
had brought Eveline to Bondathal. She had arranged

284 BLACK DIAMONDS

how and where she would have her first meeting with
- Ivan.

The notabilities and proprietors of the neighborhood
had been invited in the name of the prince to the ban-
quet, which was to inaugurate the opening of the works.
No one could refuse such an invitation. It was true
that when Eveline had proposed to the Abbé Samuel
that he should undertake the office of intermediary, and
call on his learned colleague Behrend, and bring him
with him to the banquet, the abbé had exclaimed not
for all the world would he venture to propose such a
thing as that Behrend should wait upon their excellen-
cies. And when he said this he knew very well what
he was saying.

To return to the church door. As Peter Saffran stood
stock-still, gazing after the vanishing figure of his former
betrothed, he felt some one tap him on the shoulder;
turning round, he saw standing behind him Felix Kaul-
mann. Peter’s face went deadly white, partly with fear,
more from inward rage. Felix, however, laughed care-
lessly, with the indifference of a great man, to what was,
in his opinion, only a good joke.

“ Good-day, fellow. Mind you come to the dinner,”
he said, as he followed the prince into the church.

Peter Saffran remained gaping at the noble gentlemen
as they got out of their carriages, and when the crowd
began to move into the church he followed in the stream.
He made his way into the darkest corner, before the
shrine of a saint, knelt down, with both his hands laid
upon the wall and his head upon his folded arms, and
there he made a vow—an awful, terrible vow. Those who
saw him in his kneeling attitude, with bent head, im-
agined he had been struck at last by grace, and was
repenting of his sins. When he had finished his prayer,

NO, EVELINE! 285

or his curse, he got up quickly, and, without waiting for
the end of the splendid ceremonial, hastened out of the
church, casting a wild look behind him as he went, for
he imagined that the saint in the shrine was pointing her
finger at him and calling out, “Take him prisoner! He
is a murderer !”

The church service being over, the distinguished com-
pany drove to the company’s colony, and went over the
works. They drove under triumphal arches which were
erected in the streets, and were received by a deputa-
tion of workmen. The best orator made a speech, which
would have been very eloquent only he stuck fast in the
middle. ‘The young girl who recited some verses was
more happy in her delivery, and her youngest sister pre-
sented a bouquet to Eveline, who kissed the child.

“ Ah! you are little Marie. Don’t you know me?”

The child, however, was too frightened at this beau-
tiful lady to make her an answer.

The guests visited the buildings under the guidance of
Herr Rauné, who spared them nothing—the factory, the
machinery, the iron-works. They were terribly tired of
it all, and glad to get into the large rooms which had
been temporarily arranged as the banqueting-hall. Here
they were received by two bands playing Rakoczy’s
“March.” To the banquet came a crowd of guests alike
invited and uninvited—gentlemen, peasants, clergymen,
and Bohemians. Eveline, however, looked in vain for
her former master. Ivan was not among the guests. He
had not even sent an excuse. What an uncouth man!
and yet, perhaps, he had reason. If you drink before-
hand to the skin of the bear, the bear has every right to
decline being present at the feast. Peter Saffran, how-
ever, came ; he was treated as the chief guest, and given
the first place at the workman’s table. This struck even

286 BLACK DIAMONDS

his obtuse senses. Looking round he saw he was the
only representative of the Bondathal mine.

The banquet lasted far on into the evening. Gentle-
men and workmen were exceedingly merry. Towards
the close of the feast Felix sent for Peter. He pre-
sented him to the prince.

“ Here is the brave miner of whom I have told your
excellency.”

Saffran felt the blood rush to his face.

‘Well, my good friend,” continued Felix, “how has
the world treated you since I last saw you? Are you
still afraid of ‘the doctor’? There’s a plaster for you;
it will heal any remains of your former injuries.” So
saying, he took out of his pocket-book a note for a hun-
dred gulden and put it into Peter’s hand. “No,” he
added, “don’t thank me, but thank the kind lady there,
who remembered you.”

He pointed to Eveline, and Peter kissed her hand, or,
rather, her beautiful mauve glove.

What a transformation in the man-eater! He had
grown obedient and gentle.

“That good lady,” continued Felix, ‘‘ wishes you well.
At her request his excellency, Prince Theobald, has
given you the post of overseer in the new company’s
colony, at the yearly salary of a thousand gulden. What
do you say to that ?”

What could he say? He kissed the hand of his ex-
cellency.

Kaulmann filled a large goblet to the brim with foam-
ing champagne and handed it to Peter.

“Toss that off,” he said. ‘“ But first drink to the long
life of his excellency, our generous prince.”

“And to the health of this dear lady,” added the
prince, gallantly, at which the trumpets sounded shrilly,

NO, EVELINE ! 287

and Peter Saffran, the prince, the banker, and Eveline
drank to one another.

This scene delighted the working-men. Here was no
pride, the gentlemen clinking glasses with the common
miner. This was the right spirit.

Peter Saffran, meantime, was wondering within him-
self which of the two gentlemen was Eveline’s husband,
and in what relation did the other stand to her? He
emptied his glass and put it down again, but it did not
occur to him to put the question to either of the three,
therefore it remained unanswered.

The festival closed with a splendid display of fire-
works. The sparks from the Catherine wheels fell in a
shower of molten gold into Ivan’s mine.

The following morning Saffran came to Behrend and
informed him that he had taken service with the com-
pany.

“You also?” said Ivan, bitterly. “Well, go !”

Peter was paler than ever. He had expected re-
proaches for his treachery, but as none came he sud-
denly burst out with what had been for some time in his
mind.

“Why did you that time call your friend a doctor ?”

“ Because he is one. He is a doctor of law.”

Saffran raised his finger in a threatening manner.
“ Nevertheless, it was very wrong of you to call him ¢ha¢
time a doctor.” And then he turned on his heel and
went his way.

Ivan’s strength of mind was more and more put to
the proof. Each day brought fresh defections. His
best men left him to go over to his enemy, who, like
some horrid monster, raised large furnaces which
crushed the very life out of his smaller chimneys. His
business friends fell away from him, They looked upon

288 BLACK DIAMONDS

him as an obstinate fool, carrying on such an unequal
fight ; but the darker the outlook the stronger grew his
determination to see the affair to the bitter end. He
would not leave his old home, his own little territory;
he would carry on the unequal, perhaps the fruitless,
task of opposing his apparently triumphant adversary.

In the depth of his misfortune one true, reliable friend
remained to him, and saved him from utter despair.
This friend was the multiplication-table. Before he be-
gan to calculate he put these questions to himself, as if
he were some one else :

“Ts this colony a company of commercial men? No,
a company of speculators. A joint-stock company?
No, it is a game of chance. Is it a factory? No,a
tower of Babel.” Then he went on to consider this
point. “Two and two make four, and, turn it how you
like, it makes nothing dw/ four; and if all the kings and
emperors in Europe, with decrees and ukases, were to
tell their individual subjects that two and two make five,
and if the pope fulminated a bull to enjoin on all true
believers that two and two make five, and if even the
best financial authority was to declare that we should
count two and two as five, all these—kings, emperors,
popes, and accountants—would not alter the fact that
two and two make four. These generous shareholders
of the Bondavara Company are working against a well-
known fact. The new company builds, creates, invents,
contracts, buys, and sells without taking any heed of the
primary rule of arithmetic ; therefore it is clear that the
company is not working for the future, but merely for
present gain. Therefore, I will live down this swindle.”

At the end of the year the company gave their share-
holders a surprise. The Bondavara shares began to

No, EVELINE! 286

fluctuate between thirty-five and forty florins exchange,
although the date of the payment of second instalments
of capital was at hand. At such times all the early
bonds are handed in. Csanta thought this would be a
good time for him to bring in his shares and to get his
silver back. He was contemplating a visit to the bank
when he received a private note from Spitzhase, putting
him on his guard not to fall into such a mistake as to
sell. “This very day the board of directors had met,
and a resolution had been carried unanimously that at
the next general meeting the shareholders should be
surprised by getting a bonus of twenty per cent., upon
which the shares would at once rise higher. This was a
profound secret, but he could not allow his good friend
to remain in ignorance.”

And at the next general meeting the commercial world
heard the same story. The first two months of the
Bondavara Coal Company had been such a signal suc-
cess that, besides the usual rate of interest, the directors
were enabled to offer upon each share a bonus of six
florins, which amounted (with the usual rate) to thirty-
five per cent., an unheard-of profit in two months.

When Ivan read this in the newspaper he burst into a
loud laugh. He knew, no one better, what amount of
profit the factory had made, but it is easy to manipulate
accounts so that the ledger presents these remarkable
results. What do the unbusiness-like, credulous share-
holders understand of such matters? The board of di-
rectors know very well how matters really stand; but
they have their own ends to serve. The outside world
may bleed; what is that to them? There is no court-
martial in the stock-exchange, and no justice for the
injured.

Csanta did not sell his shares. He paid his second

290 BLACK DIAMONDS

instalment in silver pieces, rejoiced over the bonus, and
blessed Spitzhase for preventing him from selling his
bonds at thirty-five. They had nowrisen to forty florins,
and continued to rise.

Ivan watched this diabolical eiriiidle with calmness,
He said to himself :

“ How long will the game last?”

CHAPTER XxXI

RESPECT FOR HALINA CLOTH

Ir was a singular coincidence that in the same mo-
ment that Ivan said to himself, “How long will this
' game last?” Prince Waldemar, meeting Felix Kaul-
mann, beaming with triumph, at the exchange, put to him
the question, “ How long, do you think, will this comedy
last ?”

“The third act is still wanting,” replied the banker.

“Yes, the third instalment. Then I shall hoist you
on your own petard.”

“We will see about that.”

The bears could not imagine what Kaulmann had in
his head. That he had a plan was certain; what it was
no one knew but the Abbé Samuel and Prince Theobald.

The third act was not the instalment; it was the Bon-
davara Railway. This question bristled with difficulties.
The government was irritated against Hungary, and in
their irritation would not listen to any proposals as to
railways and the like. Even the country party was
sulky. Let the country go to the devil; what did they
care? And no doubt they had justification for their
righteous indignation. Every Hungarian who wore
“broadcloth” was against them. The body ofofficials, the
middle class, the intelligence of the country, preferred
to lay down place and to give up government patronage
sooner than submit to the chimeras which the cabinet

292 BLACK DIAMONDS

at Vienna indulged in by way of government. Good!
So far as officials went, men were easily got to fill the
places the others had resigned, for when a good table is
spread, needless to say, guests are not hard to find. The
hired troop pocketed their salary, took the oath, stuffed
their pockets, but did nothing to promote the govern-
ment measures. Between the men who had resigned
and the newly appointed officials there was only this
difference: that one set openly declared they would do
nothing; the others pretended to do something, but
found it impossible to accomplish anything. They tried
to shove, but the cart would not move an inch, From |
those who wore cloth among the middle classes the gov-
ernment had to expect nothing, that was evident. For-
merly those who wore silk and satin acted as a sort of
counterpoise—the high and mighty, and the magnates,
the lawyers, and the priests—but now all these held
aloof. The primate remonstrated, the bishops advised
the nobility, the higher classes collected in Pesth and
talked treason.

Flectere si nequeo superos—

Let us turn now to the Halina cloth. Halina cloth
is, as every one knows, the commonest description of
cloth, only worn by the poorer classes. This cloth was
suddenly adopted in the capital of the Austrian empire.
This was no capricious freak of fashion set in motion by
some high lady who “imagined ” her elegance could give
dignity to the roughest material; this was another affair
altogether, inaugurated by the legislative body of the
kingdom, who were all clothed in Halina. Well, what
has any one to say against this? Why not? Are we
not democrats? It is true that these right-minded men
hardly understood a word of the language in which the
legislative debates were carried on, but this had the in-

RESPECT FOR HALINA CLOTH 293

estimable advantage that they could make no long
speeches, and therefore could in no way impede the
course of business. Neither did they possess any
knowledge of the laws of nations, the rights of citizens,
the complicated details of finance, nor the construction
of budgets; and this pastoral innocence entitled them
to universal respect and confidence, for it placed them
above suspicion. No one could suspect these honor-
able deputies of siding with the government because
they held government appointments.

We repeat that the introducer of Halina cloth to be
worn by the legislative assembly was a man of talent.
But in Hungary, also, the fashion should be adopted.
Were there not one hundred and eight seats in the leg-
islative assembly ready for so many excellent men?
These should not be left vacant. To fill these seats,
however, there was one lever necessary, and that was
the influence of the clerical party.

The clergy in Hungary were such poor creatures, so
ignorant and uneducated, that they actually preferred to
remain faithful to the traditions of Radoczy than to
adopt the new-fangled ideas promulgated at Vienna.
Even such an insignificant pastor as Herr Mahok re-
turned the decree which had been sent to him from
headquarters, with directions to read it on Sundays to
his flock, saying that it was a mistake; he was not the
village crier. If the government wished to issue a
protocol, let it be done in the market-place, by order of
the judge of the district, and accompanied by the drum
and trumpet. The pulpit was not the place for govern-
ment protocols. The like refusal came from every pas-
tor in Hungary, and in face of this flat rebellion the
ministers resolved that the power of the clerical party
should be broken.

294 BLACK DIAMONDS

“‘ Now is the time to act,” said Felix Kaulmann to the
Abbé Samuel.

The primate had been in Vienna; he had been re-
fused an audience; he had fallen into disgrace. The
Bishop of Siebenburg had been elevated to the primate’s
seat, and given all its honors and dignities. The cler-
ical party in Hungary was doomed. Against it the
sword was drawn; the moment was approaching when
it would be cut in two.

The Bondavara Railway was the gradus ad Parnas-
sum. If it succeeded, if it was worked properly, the
house of Kaulmann would rank with that of the Pereires
and Strousbergs ; then, also, the pontifical loan upon the
Church property in Hungary could be effected. All
this with one blow! Rank in the world, power in the
country, influence in the empire, success in the money-
market, and the triumph of the Church.

The Abbé Samuel had begun his ambitious career.
The first task was to introduce the hundred and eight
Hungarian wearers of Halina cloth into the legislative
body, and thus to secure the Bondavara Railway, the
title of bishop, and a seat in the House of Peers. These
three things lay in the hollow of his hand, for he had
three strings ready to pull, which would set in motion
the statesman, the financier, and the influence of woman.

On one Saturday Ivan, to his surprise, received a
visit from Rauné, who, in a few words, stated the matter
which had brought him. The proprietors and inhabi-
tants of the different parts of Bondathal wished to send
a deputation to Vienna, to lay before the government
and Parliament their request that the means of com-
munication between their mountainous territory and the
other parts of the empire should be put on a better foot-

RESPECT FOR HALINA CLOTH 295

ing. This matter interested Ivan equally with the rest,
and therefore it would be desirable that he and his
workmen should attend the mass-meeting which would
be held on the next day.

Ivan at once refused all co-operation. “We live,” he
said, “under exceptional laws, which forbid political
meetings. This mass-meeting has a political object,
and therefore I refuse to disobey the law.”

In spite of this protest the assembly took place next
day, and the Abbé Samuel made a brilliant speech.
His dignified appearance imposed respect, his proposal
was intelligible and for the general good; its usefulness
could not be gainsaid. To insure its popularity the
astute abbé took care not to introduce into his speech
the hated word “ Reichstag.” The resolution was car-
ried unanimously that a deputation of twelve men should
be chosen to proceed at once to Vienna, and there
present the wishes of the people. The twelve delegates
were then chosen by the abbé, and his choice was re-
ceived with loud shouts of approbation. The Bondavara
shareholders came forward with unexampled generosity,
and presented each member of the deputation not only
the price of the journey, but a cloak made of Halina
cloth, a hat, and a pair of boots. Twelve new suits!
That was worth going to Vienna for. Still, it went
against the grain. A peasant is suspicious ; they don’t
care to crack nuts with gentlemen; they mistrust pres-
ents that most probably will be dearly bought. If any
man in a black coat had made the proposal it would
have encountered vigorous opposition, but a priest, a
distinguished priest, his advice can safely be followed ;
there is nothing to be afraid of when he is at the head
of the deputation. All will go well, even although they
may have to undertake heavy responsibilities which may

496 BLACK DIAMONDS

some day involve loss. But what loss? Ah! time will
tell. Once on a time twelve men went to Vienna, and
sold the rights of their fellow-countrymen to the devil.
God knows what might happen, only that the priest is
with them; there is the plank of safety.

Nevertheless, the twelve men had to swear, man to
man, before they put on the new suits, upon their souls,
that they would deny that they could write. They were
to sign nothing, and if they were asked if such a one in
Bondathal had houses and fields, and, above all, sons,
they were not to give any answer.

The deputation started in a couple of days after the
meeting, under the guidance of the abbé. Peter Saffran
went also. He had been named one of the twelve, for
he was specially wanted in Vienna.

A day or so later Ivan was cited before the military
officer commanding the district; he was accused of
having acted against the law by causing the “ Reichstag”
to be lowered in the eyes of the people, of having kept
the people, especially his own workmen, from taking
part in legal demonstrations, of having insulted mem-
bers of the legislature, and of having allied himself with
secret societies. He was cautioned to avoid anything
of the sort in future. The next time things would be
more serious; he was at liberty to go this time un-
punished. |

Ivan knew perfectly well from what quarter this de-
nunciation had come. To destroy his business utterly
it would be necessary to place its owner for a year in
confinement ; his innocence would then be established,
and he would be allowed to go scot-free. In the mean-
time his property would be ruined. It was lucky for
Ivan that on this occasion the jailer’s wife was ill. It
would have been necessary to remove her from the rooms

RESPECT FOR HALINA CLOTH 297

which were set apart for prisoners under suspicion, and
so Ivan was allowed to go his way.

Ah, it was a great day when the twelve men from
Bondathal, in the twelve new suits of Halina cloth,
arrived in the metropolis. Here they are! Here are
the Hungarians, the indomitable sons of the soil. A
deputation to the Reichsrath, an acknowledgment of
the February patent, the first pioneers! They deserve
three times three.

All the newspapers hastened to congratulate them;
the leading articles of all political shades were full of
this new and remarkable demonstration.

The minister gave the deputation a private audience,
where the abbé set forth their demand in a well-ex-
pressed speech, laying great stress upon the fact that
it was the people themselves who wished to free their
country from its present condition, having learned to
distinguish their real benefactors from those false
prophets who wished to condemn them to a baneful
and ruinous inactivity. The abbé dwelt expressly upon
the great intelligence of the men who formed the depu-
tation. In return his excellency the minister pressed
the hand of the abbé, and assured him that the bish-
opric would soon be vacant, and that it would be his
care to see that a loyal prelate should fill the seat. His
excellency then entered into conversation with the
members of the deputation, and as none of them under-
stood a word of his language, they were much pleased
with what he said. His excellency, having been told by
the abbé that Peter Saffran was the most distinguished
of the party, took especial notice of him. He pressed
his hand, while he expressed a hope that the members
of the deputation would attend the morning sitting ;

298 BLACK DIAMONDS

places would be reserved in the gallery—for the present
in the gallery.

Peter promised for his fellow-members. He could
speak German as well as French; he had picked up
both languages during his ship experiences.

All this time the minister had said nothing as to the
grant to the Bondathal Railway, and that was the prin-
cipal thing.

At the next sitting of the Reichsrath the front row of
the gallery was reserved for the distinguished guests.
They sat in arm-chairs, leaning their elbows on the
cushions, and letting their round hats hang over the rails.

His excellency the minister gave a discourse which
lasted over an hour. The opposition maintained that
during his speech his excellency had glanced fifty-two
times at the gallery, to see the effect he was producing
upon the Hungarians. One fell asleep, and let his hat
fall into the hall. The hat fell upon one of the deputies,
and awoke him from a sweet doze.

For three days this trivial circumstance gave food to
the government papers; then it became the absolute
property of the accredited wit or fun journals, which put
into the mouths of the Hungarians all manner of things
which they had never said. Never mind; those excel-
lent men couldn’t read German, so it didn’t matter.
They stuck fast to their arm-chairs in the gallery as long
as the sitting lasted; they were more comfortable than
their beds.

The last evening of their stay they were taken to the
theatre. Not to the Burg Theatre—that would not do
for them—but to the Treumann Theatre, where a piece
was playing suitable for them, with plenty of fun, sing-
ing, dancing, laughing ; and the great joke of all was
that the principal part was to be played by the beautiful

RESPECT FOR HALINA CLOTH 299

Eveline, Frau von Kaulmann. Will Peter Saffran rec-
ognize her?

It had not been possible to get an engagement at the
Opera-house for Eveline, for there was an Italian sea-
son running. When it finished there would be a pros-
pect of an engagement for her if she first learned the
routine of acting at some less important theatre, and
grew accustomed to the footlights. Therefore, she
played en amateur on the boards of the Treumann The-
atre. Her natural gifts and her extraordinary beauty
caused a sensation. The jeunesse dorée went mad over
this new favorite of the hour. The piece which was
played in honor of the peasants was one of Offenbach’s
frivolous operas, in which the ladies appear in the very
scantiest of costumes. The noble portion of the audi-
ence enjoy these displays more than do the poorer; it
did not, at all events, amuse the simple folk in Halina
cloth. The ballet, with the lightly clothed nymphs,
their coquettish movements, their seductive smiles, their
bold display of limbs, and their short petticoats, was
not to the taste of the Bondavara miners. It was true
that the girls in the coal-pit wore no petticoats to speak
of, but then they were working. Who thought anything
of that? Chivalry belongs to the peasant as much as to
the gentleman; the former indeed practise the motto,
“ Honi soit qui mal y pense” more than do their better-
educated superiors. But now as Eveline entered they
felt ashamed. She came on as a fairy or goddess, con-
cealed in gold-colored clouds; the clouds were, how-
ever, transparent, Peter glowed with rage to think all
the world could penetrate this slight transparency ; he
burned with jealous fury as Eveline smiled, coquetted,
cast glances here, there, and was stared at through
a hundred opera-glasses. Peter forgot that this was

300 BLACK DIAMONDS

only. a stage, and that the fairies who played their parts
upon it for an hour or so were many of them most vir-
tuous women, excellent wives and daughters ; for what
happens on the stage is only play, not actuality. The
former bridegroom did not reason in this wise. You
see, he was an uneducated peasant in coarse Halina
cloth, and his ignorant mind was filled with horror, dis-
gust, rage. ‘That she should allow herself to be kissed,
to be made love to—shame! No, my good Peter, it was
no shame, but a great honor. Out of the boxes bou-
quets and wreaths fell on the stage; there was hardly a
place where she could put her feet; it was all flowers.
The house resounded with applause. This was not
shame, but honor—certainly not of the same kind that
would be offered to a saint or a good woman; it was
more the worship offered to an idol, and most women
like to be worshipped as idols.

Peter told himself all the sex are alike, and comforted
himself with the thought that not one of his companions
would recognize Eveline. But Peter took a sore heart
back to his inn.

In the hall he met the abbé, and asked him, “ When
are we going back ?”

“ Are you weary of Vienna, Peter?”

‘ Tiam.”

“ Have a little patience. To-morrow we must pay a
visit to a charming lady.”

“What have we to do with charming ladies ?”

“Don’t ask the why or the wherefore. If we want to
attain our end we must leave no means untried. We
must beg this lady to interest herself for us. One word
from her to his excellency the minister will do more
than if we said a whole litany.”

“Very good; then we had better see her.”

CHAPTER XXII

TWO SUPPLIANTS

THE next day, at eleven o’clock, Abbé Samuel came
to fetch his followers, and conduct them to the house of
the influential lady whose one word had more weight
with his excellency than the most carefully arranged
speeches of priests and orators.

The carriage stopped before a splendid palace; a
porter in a magnificent scarlet livery, with a bear-skin
cap, answered the bell, and between a double row
of marble pillars they ascended the steps. The stair-
case was also of marble, covered with a soft, thick car-
pet. The school-master at home, if he had a bit of this
stuff, would have made a fine coat of it. Up the stair-
case were such beautiful statues that the poor peasants
would have liked to kneel to kiss their hands. The
staircase was roofed in with glass and heated with hot
air, so that the lovely hot-house plants and costly china
groups suffered no injury from the cold air. In the
anteroom servants wearing silver epaulettes conducted
the visitors into the drawing-room. The sight almost
took away their breath. There was no wall to be seen;
it was panelled in the most sumptuous silk brocade ; the
curtains of the same texture had gold rods, and splendid
pictures in rich frames hung on the silk panels. The
upper portion of the windows was of stained glass, such
as is seen in cathedrals, and opposite the windows was

302 BLACK DIAMONDS

a large nreplace of white marble, upon whose mantel-
piece stood a woiderful clock, with a beautiful figure
which moved in time to the melodious tick. The fur-
niture was all of mahogany. From the ceiling, upon
which the arabesques in gold were a feast to the eye,
there hung a lustre with a hundred lights, whose thou-
sand glass drops sent out all the prismatic colors of the
rainbow.

The good peasants of Bondathal had hardly time to
take in the wonders of this fairy palace when a gentle-
man in a black coat and a spotless white tie came out
of an adjoining room. This grand personage, whom
they imagined to be the master of the house, turned out
to be an equally important person—the groom of the
chambers. He informed them that his mistress was in
the next room, and ready to receive them.

There was no door to this inner apartment, only cur-
tains of heavy damask, such as church banners are
made of. This second drawing-room was still more
wonderful than the first. The walls were panelled in
dove-colored silk. From the ceiling to the floor there
were enormous mirrors set in china frames, and be-
tween each mirror were consoles with marble statuettes
representing dancing nymphs. The stone floor was
covered with a soft carpet, into which the foot sank as
into summer grass. The fireplace was of black marble,
with a silver grating. The furniture was of the Ver-
sailles pattern; tables and chairs, arm-chairs and foot-
stools, of delicate coloring ; chairs of Sévres, with feet
and elbow rests ornamented with delicate flower-gar-
lands and charming Watteau figures. Every piece of
furniture was a masterpiece. Upon the centre-table
and consoles were Japanese vases of different and most
elegant shapes. In one of the windows an aquari-

TWO SUPPLIANTS 303

um had been constructed full of gold-fish and sea-
anemones.

The poor peasants did not notice all these beautiful ob-
jects ; their attention was fixed upon their own reflections
in the long glasses, and which in their ignorance they
imagined were other deputations, headed by another
abbé wearing a gold cross. But even this strange spec-
tacle was lost sight of in their amazement at the beauty
of the great lady who now came forward to receive them.
She was a lovely vision. Her dress of violet silk was
covered with the most costly Jace, her black hair fell in
curls over her shoulders; her face was so beautiful, so
fascinating, so dignified, that every man in the deputa-
tion was ready to fall at her feet.

Peter Saffran was the only one who recognized her;
it was Eveline, his promised bride. ,

Now the abbé, bowing low, addressed her in most
respectful language, as he laid before her the desire of
the deputation, that she would accord her powerful pro-
tection to the Bondathal population. The lady answered
most graciously, and promised that, as far as possible,
she would exert her influence. She was heart and soul
in the matter, for she added, smiling :

*T am myself a child of Bondathal.”

At these words the deputation exchanged glances,
and every one thought she must be the daughter or wife
of one of the Bondavara magnates. Only Saffran was
gloomy.

“What is she?” he thought. ‘ Only last night she was
singing, dancing, and acting; her beauty was displayed
to the eyes of a crowd, who looked at her through opera-
glasses, while I had to cover my“eyes with my hat so as
not to look on her degradation, and here to-day she is a
sort of queen, promising us her influence with cabinet

304 BLACK DIAMONDS

ministers. What is the truth? Was last night a comedy,
or is to-day a clever farce played by her and the priest ?”

You see, Peter Saffran had been in the Fiji Islands,
and he remembered how amazed the savages had been
when the white man washed the black from his hands,
and showed their natural color; only here it was the
whole body that was in question.

The abbé, who seemed highly pleased with the success
of his interview, now gave those behind him a sign to
move on, and bowed respectfully to the lady, who whis-
pered a few words in his ear,

The abbé stopped Peter Saffran as he was leaving
the room, and said, in a low voice:

“You are to remain; this kind lady wishes to speak
with you.”

Saffran felt the blood rush to his head. He almost
tottered, and as he returned to the room he could hardly
move. But Eveline hastened to him, holding out both
her hands. She had taken off her gloves, and he felt the
soft, velvety clasp of her fingers as she pressed his
horny hand in hers; he heard in his ear the sweet, fresh
ring of her voice, to which he had often listened.

** Ah, Peter, say a word to me—a kind word;” and she
patted him two or three times on the back, “ Are you
still angry with me? There, Peter, don’t be vexed any
more. Stay and dine with me, and we shall drink to our
reconciliation.”

And she put her arm into his, and stroked his cheek
with her delicate little hand, which looked as if it had
never known what hardship was.

Eveline had kept religiously to her promise of always
informing Prince Theobald when she expected guests,
and the prince reserved to himself the right of a veto if

TWO SUPPLIANTS 308

he did not approve of their reception, for there were
among the dilettante, and even among apparently most
respectable gentlemen, certain individuals who should
not have the enfrée to the drawing-room of a lady who is
not living under her husband’s roof.

The prince liked pleasant society, and, if he approved
of the company, enjoyed himself all the more that Eve-
line did the honors for him.

On this particular day Eveline had told the prince she
expected two visitors. One was Peter Saffran.

The prince laughed. ‘Poor fellow!” he said, “ treat
him well ; it will do him good.” But when he heard his
excellency the minister was coming he frowned heavily.
“What is this?” he asked. “ What brings 47m to see
you?”

“Why! Is he a woman-hater?”

“On the contrary, he is a scoundrel, only he wears a
hypocrite’s cloak. Great men who are at the helm and
guide public affairs have their weaknesses, but they dare
not sin openly. A man in his position might as soon
become a member of the Jockey Club as visit a beauti-
ful actress, unless he had some ostensible reason to give
for so doing.” ;

“ But he has a reason, and a very good one. I asked
him to make the appointment.”

“You invited him here!’ ‘The prince’s face grew more
cloudy.

“That is to say, I asked him to give me a private
audience, and his secretary wrote to say his excellency
would prefer to come here.”

“ And for what purpose do you require an audience ?”

“ Felix desired me to ask for it.”

“ Ah, it was Kaulmann’s doing! Wherefore ?”

“ He wants these documents to be signed.”’
290

306 BLACK DIAMONDS

Eveline showed the prince a folded parchment.

The prince glanced at it and shook his head. “ And
does his excellency know that this is the reason why
you asked for an audience ?”

Eveline burst into a laugh. “Oh dear, no! When
his secretary first wrote he asked why I required an
audience; I answered it was about my engagement at
the Opera, and then he said he would come. He knows
nothing of this,” she added, touching the papers in her
hand.

“ And Kaulmann told you to do this?”

mb {Bad

“Then Kaulmann is a refined villain. Do as he has
told you; but you may take my word that your husband
deceives himself if he imagines you can snare a savage
with a silken net. You can receive your guest, but I do
not think you will succeed in your scheme.”

Eveline put her hand upon Peter Saffran’s, and led
him into another room, where there was a wonderful
display of silver, and thence, through a private door, into
a fourth apartment, the walls of which were wainscoted
with dark wood; the ceiling, too, was supported by cross-
beams of wood, and finished with painted shell-work.

No one was in the room. Eveline sat down on the
sofa, and made Peter sit beside her.

“ Listen, Peter,” she said, laying her hand on the rough
sleeve of his Halina-cloth coat. “It was the will of God
that I should separate from you. It grieved me very
much to leave you, because, you know, we had been
called in church three times. But, then, you could not
bear my little brother ; you were cruel to him, and you
beat me. I don’t bear you any malice now. I have
forgotten and forgiven, but at the time I was very angry

TWO SUPPLIANTS 307

with you, not so much because you ill-treated me, but I
followed you that night to the cottage in the wood. I
was quite ready to forgive and forget, only I looked
through the window, and I saw you dancing with Ezifra
Mauczi. I saw you kiss her, and I was angry in down-
right earnest.”

Peter gnashed his teeth. He felt the tables were
turned against him, and he could say nothing. It would
be very different if it were his wife who accused him of
such things; he would know how to treat a jealous,
scolding wife ; but he couldn’t take this beautiful lady
by the hair, and drag her round the room, and beat her
on the head until she begged for pardon.

“But, as I said,” continued Eveline, smiling again,
“we are not going to talk about bygones. It was all
God’s will, and for the best. We would have been a
most unhappy couple, for I am passionate and jealous,
and you would have given me cause. Now you can do
as you like, and I have the happiness of doing good. I
like to help as many people as possible, and every day
twenty poor creatures are fed in my house. Oh, I do
more than that; I get heaps of things done for the poor!
I speak a good word for them, anid get them helped by
rich people. Also, I mean to be a benefactress to your
valley; thousands and thousands of people will bless
my name for what I shall do for them. Is it not a hap-
piness to be able to help others?”

Eveline paused for an answer. Peter felt he ought
to say something, if it was only to show that he had not
become dumb. |

“ And does all this money come from the Bondavara
Company ?” he asked.

Eveline blushed scarlet. How was she to answer
such a question?

308 BLACK DIAMONDS

“Not altogether. I earn a good deal by my art; for
every performance I receive five hundred gulden.”

“Five hundred gulden!” thought Peter. ‘That ex-
plains a great deal. A good salary indeed! A woman
might spare some of her clothing to earn so much money.
It is money got by work, and not such hard work as
carrying coals. She had to show her legs for that
also. But all said and done, it was money honestly
earned.”

Peter’s face began to clear.

“There, you look more like yourself. Don’t look
wicked again,” pleaded Eveline; “and when you go
back home tell every one that you have seen me, and
that we had a great talk together, and are good friends -
again. If at any time you know of any one in want,
send me a line, and, if it is in my power, I will gladly
help them. You must marry, if you are not already
married. No? Well, then, you must choose a good
girl, Peter. There is Panna, she is just the wife for
you, and she was always a friend of mine, or there is
Amaza, she liked you, I know, and she is an excellént
housekeeper; only, don’t marry Mauczi; you would be
very unhappy with her, she is a bad girl. And in case
you do marry, Peter, here are my wedding-presents for
your wife ; and remember, I advise you to marry Panna.
Here are a pair of ear-rings, a necklace, and a brooch;
and to you I give, as a remembrance of myself, this gold
watch. See, Peter, my likeness is on the back. Think
of me sometimes when you are very happy.”

When she said these words Eveline’s eyes overflowed,
and her lips trembled convulsively. Peter saw it, and
drew the conclusion that with all her splendor she was
not happy. One thought now took possession of him.
He gave no heed to the bridal presents, Whether they

TWO SUPPLIANTS 309

were of gold or lead was all one to him, no one should
ever see them; but what he thought was:

** She has a good heart, she is generous, she gives with
an open hand; but I do not care for her gifts. If she
will only kiss me once I will bless her. What is a kiss
to her? An alms, one out of the numbers she gives to
those fellows on the stage, with their smeared, painted
faces.”

Poor fool! he didn’t know that stage kisses are only
mock kisses, just as stage champagne is only lemonade
or pure water. Peter believed that one kiss from Eve-
line would satisfy his thirst; it would assuage the pangs
of regret, of jealousy, or rage that had consumed him
since the previous night. All would vanish when he
would touch her cold, fresh lips. And, after all, had
they not been betrothed to one another—all but man
and wife? Who could object? Only he didn’t know
how to express what was in his mind.

“And now let us eat together, Peter,” said Eveline,
kindly. “Iam certain that you are tired of all the good
things you get every day; you are satiated with the
Vienna cookery. Wait, and I shall cook you something
myself—your favorite dish, Peter, which you often said
no one cooked so well as I did. I shall make you some
porridge.”

Peter was electrified. A smile broke out all over his
face, either at the mention of his favorite dish, or at the
thought that his hostess would herself prepare it. But
how is she to cook? There is no hearth, no cooking-
vessels,

“Everything will be here,” said Eveline, laughing
joyously. “I shall change my dress; I cannot cook in
this.”

She ran off as she spoke, and returned in two minutes,

310 BLACK DIAMONDS

Actresses learn how to dress quickly. She now wore a
white embroidered maid’s frock, and a little cap on her
head. She called no one to help her, but laid a cloth
on the oak table, filled a silver kettle with water, set it
to boil on a spirit-lamp. She turned up the sleeves of
her dress to the elbows, and shook with a light hand
the meal into the boiling water; then she turned the
mixture deftly with a silver spoon round and round un-
til it became thick. Then she took the kettle by the
handle, emptied it on to a glazed clay plate—yes, actu-
ally a clay plate!—and poured some cream over the
mixture. She fetched two wooden spoons, one for Peter,
one for herself.

“ Let us eat off the one plate, Peter.”

And they ate this porridge off one plate. Peter felt
a strange moisture fill his eyes; he had not wept since
he was a child. The porridge was excellent; all the
cooks in Vienna put together couldn’t have given him a
meal so much to his mind. There was wine on the
table, but no glasses.

Peasants never drink during meals; but when they
had finished Eveline fetched a clay jug and asked
Peter to drink, after, as is the custom, she had taken a
draught.

“Drink this, Peter; it is your old favorite.”

There was mead in the jug—a very innocent sort of
drink—and Peter thought it was his duty to empty the
last drop. The hell that had been raging in his breast
seemed all at once to be extinguished. He said to him-
self:

“Ves, I shall go back to the church, and to the spot
where I made that awful vow; I shall implore the Holy
Mother to allow me to take it back. I shall hurt no
one; I shall take no reyenge. Let the green grass

TWO SUPPLIANTS grt

grow again in the fields, and let her live in splendor in
the smiles of the great ones. I shall not grudge her
her happiness. This day, when she has received me so
kindly, has banished from my memory the day upon
which she left me. But I shall ask her for one kiss, so
that I may remember nothing but that.”

He delayed, however, too long in putting his desire
into words. They were, indeed, hovering on his lips
when the door suddenly opened, and a servant an-
nounced that his excellency was in the drawing-room.

(Now, Peter, God help you; you may go hence with-
out your kiss !)

Eveline could hardly say good-bye ; she had to change
her dress. The footman showed him out at the secret
door; there another footman led him down the back
stairs, and, opening another door, left Peter in a narrow
street, where he had never been before. While he made
the best of his way to the hotel he had leisure to think
over what he should say to Evila if he ever again had
the chance of being alone with her in the round room.
The recollection of how he had missed his opportunity
roused the demon again in his mind. The burning lava
of hell began once more to fill his veins, the stream
of sulphur which the lost souls are ever drinking. He
kept repeating to himself, “The grass shall not grow
again !”

By the time he reached the inn he brought with him a
goodly company—hatred, envy, rage at his own weak-
ness, horror at his own wickedness, mixed with political
fanaticism. A delightful gathering in one man’s breast.

CHAPTER XXIII

FINANCIAL INTRIGUE

WE can give no authentic account of the interview
between his excellency the minister and his beautiful
hostess. We were not present, and neither had we a
phonograph.

No doubt he complimented her upon her charming
talent, and promised her his powerful interest, and as in
this world nothing is given for nothing, there is every
probability that his excellency, who was an undoubted
scoundrel, hinted at the reward he would expect for
using his powerful interest in her behalf; upon which
Eveline, like a prudent woman, wishing to have every-
thing in black and white, produced from the drawer of
her writing-table the parchment which we have already
heard of.

His excellency took the paper, probably believing it
was a petition to grant her an engagement. He held it
in his hand while he smilingly assured her that the mat-
ter was as good as concluded. It is, however, more than
probable that when he gave a hurried glance at the con-
tents his face assumed its official expression; he saw
it did not refer to an operatic engagement, but to the
grant for the Bondavara Railway. Seeing this, it is
likely that his excellency got up at once, and, hat in
hand, explained to his lovely hostess how distressed he
felt not to be in a position to comply with her wishes,

FINANCIAL INTRIGUE 313

as there were insuperable objections in the way, great
opposition from the legislative body, and yet greater op-
position in the Upper House, where Prince Sondersheim
was working heaven and earth against the Bondavara
Railway, and, therefore, from political and financial rea-
sons, from the condition of the country and many
other causes, it would be impossible, or almost impos-
sible, to hold out any hope of granting the Bondavara
Railway a guarantee from the government. ‘That then
his excellency made a profound bow and left the room
may be considered a fact. It is psychologically certain
that he descended the staircase with a frown of vexation
on his face, and that he murmured between his teeth:

“Tf I had known that I was going to talk to the
banker's wife 1 should never have come here.” As he
got into his carriage—and this is historical—he banged
the door with such violence that the glass window was
shattered in pieces.

At the very hour when this interview was taking
place a committee-meeting was being held in Prince
Theobald’s palace, which had for its object to lay before
the shareholders the necessity of paying the third in-
stalment—a critical operation, this attack upon the
pockets of the public. The Bondavara Railway now
played its part. Felix Kaulmann announced he had
every confidence that in a couple of weeks it would be a
fact. The deputation from Bondathal had caused a
sensation, besides which the company had the interest
of a very influential person, who could persuade his ex-
cellency to do anything, even give the grant for the rail-
road. The finely cut, aristocratic face of the president
did not betray by a sign that he knew who this person
was.

314 BLACK DIAMONDS

Kaulmann never for a moment suspected that Eveline
told the prince the names of all the visitors who came
to the palace during his absence, and that they were ad-
mitted through the little door. He would have called
such stupidity by an ugly name.

While the meeting was sitting a note was brought to
Kaulmann, who at once recognized Eveline’s writing.
He read the letter quickly, then laid it on the table with
a discontented air.

“What is that?” asked the prince, pointing to a roll
of paper.

It was the unsigned document which Eveline had re-
turned.

Kaulmann wrote on a slip of paper, “ Another hitch
in that damned railway.”

The prince said to himself, ‘ Then his wife has again
escaped.” Then he bent over Kaulmann, and, laying
his hand upon his shoulder, whispered to him:

“My dear friend, one doesn’t get everything by a
pair of black eyes.”

Spitzhase was the secretary of the meeting. After
this little scene he wrote upon a piece of paper, and,
twisting it up, handed it to Kaulmann. Kaulmann read
it; then tore it in small pieces and shrugged his
shoulders.

“T know all ¢ha?,” he said, sulkily. “I don’t want
any advice.”

The committee went away in bad humor with one an-
other. The expense of bringing the deputation from
Bondathal had been two thousand gulden, and this
comedy had been of no use. The last stake should now
be played. Csanta had determined not to pay the third
instalment. He would sell all his shares at the price

quoted and refill his casks with silver. On the day of’

_

FINANCIAL INTRIGUE 315

the Proclamation, however, he received a letter from
Spitzhase, which ran as follows:

**Str,—To-morrow Herr Kaulmann is going to you to offer to
buy all your shares at forty-five florins exchange. Be on your
guard. I can assure you that the government has signed a grant
for the Bondavara Railway, and so soon as this is public the shares
will rise another twenty per cent.”

Csanta believed in Spitzhase as in an oracle, and with
reason. All happened as he said. Immediately upon
the issue of the Proclamation, and when the shares were
a little flat, Kaulmann appeared in X , and offered
him forty-five florins exchange upon his shares. But
the old Greek was firm, not one would he part with; he
would rather take his last cask to Vienna and empty its
contents than part with one share.

He was rewarded for his firmness. Two days later
he read in the newspaper how generously both Houses
had voted a grant to the Bondavara Railway.

His excellency the prime-minister had himself plead-
ed for the cause in the Lords and Deputies House, and
had proved conclusively that, from the political point of
view, from the present favorable condition of the money
market, as also from the side of the landed interest,
from every point of view—strategical, financial, co-oper-
ative, and universal—the government guarantee for the
Bondavara Railway was absolutely necessary, and, as a
natural consequence, the motion was carried. Prince
Waldemar, indeed, opposed it vigorously, but his fol-
lowing was small, so nobody minded him.

At the next audit of the Bondavara Company’s ac-
counts presented to the shareholders there appeared
under the heading of expenditure this remarkable entry:
“ Expense of foundations, forty thousand gulden.”’

316: BLACK DIAMONDS

““What does this mean ?” said the shareholders, with
one voice.

Kaulmann whispered something to the man nearest
him; he passed the whisper on, whereupon every one
nodded his head, and tried to think it was all right,
So it appeared to be, for after the government grant to
the railway the Bondavara shares rose to seventy florins
above par. Nothing could be more convincing. Csanta
had punch at dinner, and got drunk for joy.

Some evenings later Eveline met his excellency in
the green-room of the Treumann Theatre. The minis-
ter thought it was time to press for payment of his ser-
vices,

““My dear lady,” he said, “have I not obeyed your
wishes in regard to the Bondavara Railway ?”

Eveline made him a low courtesy. She wore the cos-
tume of the Duchess of Gerolstein.

“T am eternally indebted to your excellency,” she
said. “To-morrow evening I shall blow you forty thou-
sand kisses.”

At the words “forty thousand” his excellency grew
red. He turned on his heel, and for the future Eveline
was relieved from his attentions ; but it was also quite
certain that she had lost all chance of an engagement
at the Opera-house. She might sing like a nightingale,
but her petition would never be signed.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BONDAVARA RAILWAY

Tue Bondavara Railway was begun. Prince Walde-
mar and his followers, the bears, were crushed—there are
always people who die of hunger in the midst of a plen-
teous harvest.

Prince Waldemar met his noble relative, Prince Theo-
bald, at the Jocky Club. Their encounter was hardly a
friendly one, considering their close relationship.

Said Prince Waldemar: “You have chosen to put
yourself at the head of my enemies. You have done
your utmost to trump my best card. You have allied
yourself with that man Kaulmann, with whom I am on
bad terms. I sought your granddaughter in marriage ;
you promised she should be my wife, and then you sent
her away from Vienna. You have invented all manner
of pretexts to keep her at Pesth, and now the secret is
out—she is betrothed to Salista. I had a fancy for a
pretty little woman, and just to prevent my having her
you invite her to your palace and forbid her to receive
my visits. Worse than all, you have given over your
only unmortgaged property, Bondavara, to a swindling
company, who want to set themselves over me; and
you have become their president. You have schemed
and jockeyed the government into giving the guarantee
for a railway that won’t pay two per cent. You haven’t
an idea how you are implicated in these transactions.

318 BLACK DIAMONDS

I pity you—for I have always felt esteem for you—and
I intend to set myself the task of regulating your affairs
some day. Meantime take care, for if I succeed in
upsetting the human pyramid upon whose shoulders
you stand the greatest fa// will be yours.” .

Of all this long harangue Prince Theobald only gath-
ered the fact that Angela had chosen the Marquis Salista
for her husband, and had never written to tellhim. She
let him hear it from another.

The Bondavara Railway was being pressed forward ;
it was nearly finished. There was no further need for
a woman’s black-diamond eyes. They had done their
work. One day Eveline visited her husband. Felix re-
ceived her with apparent satisfaction.

“T have come,” she said, “to ask you a question.
Prince Theobald has been for some days so sad; it is
melancholy to see his distress. Have you any idea of
its cause ?”

“Thave. His granddaughter, the Countess Angela, is
married, and her husband, the Marquis Salista, is taking
steps to put the prince under restraint, on account of the
foolish manner in which he is squandering his fortune.”

“And much of this foolish extravagance is spent on
me.”

“You are really wonderfully sharp, Eveline.”

**T shall put an end to his spending his money on me.
I shall tell the prince that I must leave his palace. I
shall be always grateful to him; he has been a benefac-
tor to me—and so have you. I ought to have men-
tioned you first. You have had me educated; you have
taught me a great deal. I have to thank you for being
what Iam. I can earn my own living, thanks to you. I
mean to become a real artist. But I must leave Vienna;
I do not care to remain here any longer.”

THE BONDAVARA RAILWAY 319

“T think, Eveline, you have decided well, and our
minds have really a wonderful sympathy. I was about
to advise the very course to you. By all means, leave
Vienna ; by all means, make use of your talents, and
take up work seriously. I shall continue to do my duty
as your husband. I shall take you to Paris; I shall
settle myself in my house there on purpose to be of as-
sistance to you. You will make a hit there, I know,
and we shall be always good friends.”

In spite of her previous experience of this man’s
character, Eveline was weak enough to be touched by
his words and to blame herself for having done him in-
justice, for it was a great sacrifice on his part to leave
Vienna for her sake. She could never have supposed
that this sacrifice was part of his well-considered plan
for ridding himself of her. She had played er part in
making his fortune, and now she could go where she
chose—to her native coal-pit if she liked. Once in Paris,
he would be able to say, “ Madam, you are here under .
the French law, and as no civil ceremony has passed be-
tween us, you are not my wife ; you are at liberty to call
yourself unmarried.”

Felix had another reason for settling himself in Paris.
It was here he counted on carrying out the second part
of his programme. Now that the Bondavara Railway
was nearly finished, the castles in the air of the Abbé
Samuel were beginning to take shape; the next step
should be a gigantic loan in the interest of the Church,
This loan would be another means of aggrandizing the
house of Kaulmann; its reputation would be world-
wide. Already Kaulmann’s name was of European
celebrity ; he belonged to the stars of the first order in
the financial world. From being a daron of the stock-
exchange he had become a prince. If he succeeded in

320 BLACK DIAMONDS

effecting this loan he would be a ing of the money-
market, before whose name even that of Rothschild
would pale.

A halo was also beginning to surround the name of
the Abbé Samuel. The government had begun to see
that this popular orator held the people in his hand,
and could lead them as he chose. The people looked
upon him as their benefactor, a man whose influence
could get them benefits. Was not the Bondavara Rail-
way a proof of this? The twelve Halinacoats were firm-
ly persuaded that the abbé had carried back in his
pocket the government grant. The clerical party ac-
knowledged him as a new light. In Rome he was
lauded for his zeal in the papal cause. If he was made
bishop, which was almost a certainty, he would be the
first Hungarian prelate who had taken his seat in the
Austrian House of Lords. The minister would stare
when he found his scheme for the secularization of
Hungarian Church property met by another scheme
from the new bishop, which, while proposing a gigantic
loan upon these same Church lands, had for its
object the elevation of the Holy See by these very
means. The money-markets of France, Belgium, and
the Roman States would vie with one another in pro-
moting the loan, and the pontiff would look upon the
man who had conceived such a project as the saviour of
the pontificate ; his name should be written in letters of
gold. In Hungary, also, the scheme would be favorably
received as a means of saving the church property al-
ready threatened, for the government dared not refuse
this alternative.

Moreover, the primate was an old man; the pope was
still older. All the wheels were in readiness; the ma-
chine could now be put in motion,

THE BONDAVARA RAILWAY 321

The day the first locomotive steamed out of the Bon-
davara station the Abbé Samuel might say to himself,
“The way to Rome is clear.” It would be also safe to
prophesy that on this day Ivan Behrend’s ruin would be
complete.

This railroad would bring the goods of the Joint-Stock
Company into the markets of the world, where they could
compete with the coal of Prussia and the English coal.
But, it will be said, Ivan had the same chance; his coals
were equally good, and the giant with the seven-mile
boots would carry his coal as well as his enemies’. But
here was where the shoes pinched. What was of use to
the company was destruction to him.

The railway was not to run through the valley where
his mine was situated, although that line was the best
and most natural course to take; instead of which
mountains had to be made level, tunnels had to be bored
through the hills, to avoid his colliery and to carry the
rails close to the company’s mine. In consequence of
this, [van would be obliged to make a circuit of a half-
day’s journey to get to the railway, and so the freightage
to the station made his goods five or six per cent. dearer
than those of the company. For him, therefore, the rail-
road was a crushing blow.

In the meantime the end of the year drew near, the
time when the miners were to receive their share from
the profits. But profit there was none. Neither coal
nor iron had any sale. The company’s low prices had
taken every customer from Ivan.

Any one who possesses ready money can always say,
even if he loses, that he wins; the common people call this
eating your own entrails. Ivan hada sum by him, which
he had carefully gathered in better days. It amounted,

at

322 BLACK DIAMONDS

all told, to several thousands, and he calculated he could
hold his own against his giant rivals for at least ten
years. He forgot that the giants were cunning as well as
strong, and that they did not despise the smallest artifice.

When: the railway directors issued their prospectus,
inviting all contractors to send in contracts for iron rails,
etc., Ivan thought to himself, “‘ Now, I will have some
fun. The shareholders of the Joint-Stock Company
offer their iron six per cent. cheaper than it costs them.
I will offer to the railway directors to deliver iron rails at
ten per cent. cheaper than they cost me. I shall lose
fifty thousand gulden, but I shall have the satisfaction
of punishing my neighbors for their folly in lowering the
price of the raw material.”

Simple fool! Just as an honorable gentleman imag-
ines that when a letter is sealed no one would venture
to open it, so Ivan thought that all the offers were read
together, and that the most advantageous to the company
was accepted.

Good gracious! nothing of the kind.

It is always settled beforehand who is to have the
contract. When the proposals come in it sometimes
happens that some one makes a yet lower offer than that
of the protégé, and this last is then told to take pen and
ink and write an offer proposing to give the goods half
per cent. lower than the offer made by the outsider.

This is a well-known trick, and it is only men like Ivan,
whose minds are occupied with petrifactions and the
stars, who are in ignorance that such things are done.

The contract offered by the shareholders was half per
cent. lower than the one offered by Ivan.

But even this rebuff didn’t daunt him. Two and two
make four, and those who sin against multiplication must
come to ruin sooner or later.

THE BONDAVARA RAILWAY 323

Ivan continued making in his workshop iron bars and
rails. He accumulated a store in his magazines. Some
time they would be wanted.

The Bondavara Railroad was to be made.

Csanta wanted to sell his houses in X ; the whole
street was for sale. He said he was going to live in
Vienna, and to fill his office of one of the directors to
the company. He was to receive a large salary, and to
have little or nothing to do. He had changed all his
gold into papers—there is no use nowadays for houses
or land or cattle or mines; nothing is good but paper.
/¢ wants neither groom nor manure nor pay nor ma-
chinery.

Therefore, he wished to sell the whole street. Fort-
unately, there was so little money in X that the in-
habitants of the whole town put together couldn’t pro-
duce enough money to buy a poor little street.

The Bondavara Railway‘was in progress. Along the
line the navvies were working like a swarm of ants;
they shoved wheelbarrows from morning until night;
they dug the ground, blew up rocks, bored mountains,
rammed plugs into water-sources, hewed stones, dammed
rivers.

In the dark mouth of the Bondavara mine one man
stood immovable. He was ever watching the work.
His gloomy, threatening face was fixed steadily upon a
windlass.

This man was Peter Saffran. He held in his hand
a lump of coal, and as he looked back from the noisy
landscape to the remnant of trees his eyes seemed to
say, “ Thou art the cause of all this tumult, this wealth,
this splendor ; thou art a living power—thou!” And
he hurled the coal against the wall,

CHAPTER XXV

THE POOR DEAR PRINCE

“You have something to tell me: what is it?” asked
Prince Theobald, as he entered Eveline’s drawing-room
in answer to a letter from her, written after her inter-
view with her husband.

“T wish to leave Vienna.”

“ Ah! this is sudden. And where are you going?”

“My husband is obliged to go to Paris. I am going
with him,”

The prince looked inquiringly at her. ‘“ Have you,
then, grown tired of being under my care ?”

“T am afraid I cannot deny it. I am like a slave in
a gilded cage. I am a sort of prisoner, and I want to
see life.”

“You repent, then, of the promise you made me?
Well, then, I release you ; but stay with me.”

“‘T should be too proud to receive benefits from any
one to whom I am ungrateful. Besides, it would be
enough for me to know that you are the master of the
palace to take all sense of freedom from me. I don’t
want to receive any more favors.”

“You wish to become an actress?”

“T do wish that.” Eveline laid a stress on the last
word,

“From ambition ?”

“T cannot say so. If I were ambitious I should be

THE POOR DEAR PRINCE 325

more diligent. I want my freedom. I don’t want my
wings clipped. I like to feel I can use them as I choose.”

“That is rather a dangerous experiment for any one
so young and pretty as you are.”

“ One never falls so Jow that one cannot rise again.”

“Where did you learn that?”

“ From what I see every day.”

“You are resolved to leave me?”

“T am—I am—I am!” Eveline repeated these words
impatiently.

“Then I had better free you from my disagreeable
society as soon as possible,” said the prince, taking up
his hat. Then, with an ironical bow, he added, “ Forgive
me, madam, for the weary hours I must have imposed
upon you.”

Eveline, with an impatient stamp of her foot, turned
her back upon him. The prince, when he had got as far
as the anteroom, found that he had forgotten his walk-
ing-stick in the drawing-room. It had been a Christmas
present frcm Eveline, and he would not leave it with
her. He went back to fetch it.

He opened the door gently, and he saw a sight that
surprised him. Eveline still stood with her back to him.
She had in her hands the stick he had come for, which
she kissed two or three times, sobbing bitterly, The
prince withdrew gently. Everything was made clear to
him. Eveline quarrelled with him to make the separa-
tion less hard for him. She pretended to be mean and
ungrateful in order that he might forget her more easily.
Why did she do this?

The next day the prince found the solution of this
riddle. His servant brought him the key of Eveline’s
apartments. The lady had left by the very earliest train.
The prince hastened to the palace, and he then under-

326 BLACK DIAMONDS

stood why it was that Eveline had left. She had taken
nothing ; everything was there. She was a pearl among
women. A lock of her hair was wound round the handle
of the walking-stick—her beautiful hair, which fell from
the crown of her head to her feet.

Eveline arrived in Paris before Kaulmann. It had
been settled between them that she should stop ata hotel
until he arranged where she should live.

Some weeks later Felix came and said: “ Your house
is ready for you. Will you come and see it?”

Eveline drove with Felix to her new home, which was
in the Rue Sebastopol, one of the best situations in Paris,
the first floor. As she came into the apartment her heart
beat. Everything was familiar to her eyes—the cherry-
colored curtains, the carpets, the dove-colored panels,
the black marble fireplace, the oval frames in china,
the window looking into the garden—all as in Vienna.
The same pictures, the same service of silver, the ward-
robes, the jewel-cases, even to the glove which she had
left upon the table.

The tears fell from her eyes as she murmured to her-
self, “ The good, kind prince !”

Felix, however, with perfect af/omé, took all the credit
to himself, and asked her, “ Have I not arranged your
apartment to your taste?”

Eveline made him no answer. Her thoughts were
with the good, kind prince, her best friend. To him she
owed her engagement at the Opera-house in Paris, the
wreaths that were thrown to her on her first appearance,
the carriage she drove in every day. All was due to the
paternal interest of Prince Theobald, who, from the day
he called her his daughter, had never ceased to care for
her as his child.

CHAPTER XXVI

DIES IR

One gloomy day in late autumn Ivan went from the
forge to his mine, and upon the way his thoughts ran in
asad groove. “What a curious world we live in; every-
thing goes wrong—at least, for most people. Bread is
not for the wise man, nor success for the strong; it was
so in the days of Solomon. One bad year follows the
other, for even nature acts like a step-mother to men.
The poor are hungry and beg for bread, and when they
have eaten they forget from whom they received nourish-
ment. All the great proprietors go to their graves with-
out doing, either for their country or their neighbor, any-
thing worth mentioning; all the burden of the present
and the future seems to fall upon the less numerous
and more exhausted class. The patriots are all hollow;
they weep when they are in their cups; they show their
fists, but no one dares to strike a blow. All manly
strength is gone; there is not a man worth the name
in the whole country. And the women—they are all
the same, from the high-born dame to the peasant girl
—false and heartless. Even in the bowels of the
earth it is no better. For the last two days there has
been choke-damp in the mine; the escape of gas has
been so great that the men cannot work;; it is as likely as
not that there will be an explosion while I am in the pit.”

You see, Ivan’s thoughts were as black as the land-

328 BLACK DIAMONDS

scape, and suited to its gloom. His road from the forge
to the mine led him past the workmen’s houses, and as
he passed one of these a miner came stumbling out of
the door. The house was a wine-shop. The miner had
his back towards Ivan, who did not recognize him, but
he noticed that the man had great difficulty in walking
straight.

“T wonder who it is that has got drunk so early in
the day ?” thought Ivan, and hastened after the man to
find out who he was. When he got up with him he saw,
to his surprise, that it was Peter Saffran. This struck
Ivan unpleasantly; he recalled how, on the day when
Evila had eloped, Saffran had sworn never again to touch
brandy; he knew also that Peter had kept this oath.
He recollected also, but imperfectly, that when he said that
he wouldn’t drink any more he had let fall some threat.
Well, it didn’t much matter ; if he got drunk, that was his
affair. But why did he come to Ivan’s village to get
drunk? Why didn’t he go to the tavern in his own
colony.

Ivan hailed the man. “ Good-morning, Peter.”

Peter did not return the greeting; he stared like a
stupid dog who doesn’t know his own master. He
looked at Ivan with a wild eye, he pressed his lips to-
gether, and his nostrils extended. He drew his cap
down over his eyes.

Ivan asked him, “ Has the choke- iden got into your
pit? >”?

No answer from Peter. He shoved his cap from off
his forehead, and, opening his mouth to its full extent,
bent his face to that of Ivan, and let his hot, spirit-laden
breath blow over him. Then, without saying a syllable,
he turned away, and set off running in the direction of the
company’s mine,

DIES IRE | 329

The heated breath of the man, with the sickening
smell of bad brandy, sent a shudder through Ivan’s
frame. He stood still, staring after the runaway, who,
when he had got acertain distance, stopped and looked
back. Ivan could see his face distinctly. He looked
like a madman; his lips hung apart, like those of a
mad dog ; his white teeth gleamed in contrast to his red
gums. His whole appearance was so strange and des-
perate that Ivan laid hold of the revolver in his pocket.
For one moment the thought passed through his mind
that he would be doing a good work in freeing the
world of such a creature, but on second thoughts he let
him go unharmed, and continued his way to the mine to
look after the ventilators.

In the vault the proportion between the hydrogen
and the air was three to seven. Ivan forbade any work
to be done in the mine, or any pumping out of the
dangerous gas. He employed his men in the open air,
removing the coal that was required, and only allowed
those to remain below who had to look after the air-
pumps.

He remained the whole day on the spot, controlling
everything and keeping a close watch. Towards even-
ing he left the mine and returned to his house. Every-
thing was apparently safe. It was a nasty, foggy,
gloomy evening; the state of the atmosphere reacted
upon the mind and body alike. When nature is out of
sorts, man suffers; when the sky is overcast, he, too, is
gloomy. And when the earth is sick, when worms and
mould destroy the fruit, when the harvest is ruined by
blight, and the cattle are decimated by pestilence—above
all, when the noxious vapors from the coal-mines rise to
the surface and poison the very air—then men sicken
and die.

330 BLACK DIAMONDS

All through the day Ivan had felt cold shudders run-
ning over his whole body. His limbs were contracted
by that unpleasant feeling called goose-skin, and when
he got home he shivered, although his room was warm.
He was restless, uneasy. He could occupy himself
with nothing; everything palled upon him. The worst
symptom of all, he could not even work.

When a man refuses food or drink, when he does not
care for the company of a pretty woman, when his club
wearies him, these are unhealthy signs; but when he
turns away from work, and finds no longer any interest
in his usual occupation, then it is time to send for the
physician.

Ivan’s head throbbed, yet he could not sleep, and to
stay awake was torture. He lay down, and with a reso-
lute effort closed his eyes. A panorama of past, present,
and future kept dancing before him. Peter Saffran’s
hot, stinking breath seemed to breathe again in his nos-
trils, and the very horror brought back to his memory
the man’s long-forgotten words :

“No more during my life shall I drink brandy—only
once; and when I do, and when you smell from my
breath that I have been drinking, or see me coming out
of the public-house, then take my advice and stop safe
at home, for on that day no man shall know in what
manner he shall die.”

Who cares for the threat of a drunken man? Let me
sleep. No, the drunken man would not allow Ivan to
sleep; his breath was there. Faugh! it made him sick.
His blear-eyed, pallid face was there bending over the
bed, looking into Ivan’s eyes with his blood-shot eyes;
his open mouth and shut teeth came quite close to the
sleeper, who, vainly beating his arms in the air, tried to
drive away this horrid nightmare,

DIES IR 331

Ah, what is that sound? A crack like the crack of
doom awoke Ivan; not alone awoke him, but threw him
violently out of bed and on to the floor, where he lay
stunned.

His first consecutive thoughts were, “The choke-
damp has exploded! My mineisinruins!” This was
enough to get him on his legs and to send him out in
the darkness—darkness, raven-black darkness, the still-
ness only broken by a whistling sound in the air. Ivan
stood for a moment wondering. He felt the earth
swaying under his feet; he heard a subterranean grum-
bling. There! the pitch-dark night was suddenly illu-
mined ; a bright pillar of fire rose out of the Bondavara
Company’s mine. At the same moment another fearful
explosion was heard, worse than the last. ‘The windows
of the house were shattered in a thousand pieces, the
chimneys, the roofs fell in. The pressure of the air
forced Ivan back and threw him against the door of
his own house. By the strong light of the demoniacal
pillar he could see his own workmen all on their knees
with a horrified expression upon their ghastly faces.
Women and children were gathered at the doors of the
houses, but the terror was so great that every one was
speechless.

The entire valley glowed like the crater of a volcano.
It vomited forth a rain of fire-sparks, as in Gomorrah.
The flames reached almost to the clouds, and heaven
sent forth clap upon clap of thunder, the like of which
in the most terrible thunder-storm had never been heard.

Two minutes later the flames were extinguished. The
whole valley was again enveloped in pitch-darkness, only
over the company’s mine floated a filmy white cloud.

“The neighboring mine has exploded!” shrieked
Ivan. “Help! help!’ He never remembered that it

332 BLACK DIAMONDS

was his enemy’s mine; he only thought that there, in
the bowels of the earth, a fearful, indescribably fearful,
calamity had happened. “Help! help!” he cried, and
ran to the alarm-bell, at which he pulled with all the
strength of his body.

His own men came rushing in hot haste, all repeating
to one another, as if it were something new, “ The neigh-
boring mine has exploded !”

Then followed a significant pause. The men carry-
ing lanterns surrounded Ivan, and looked at him ques-
tioningly, waiting for him to speak.

How had he guessed their thoughts?

Those who under God’s free heavens drew their
breath were bound to go to the rescue of those who lay
buried underground, and who perchance still lived.
Here it was no case of friend orfoe. They were human
beings; that was enough.

“We must get the ventilators, the well-buckets to
work!” called Ivan. “ Let each man bring a thick cloth
to tie over his mouth. Bring crow-bars, cords, ladders,
india-rubber tubes, hose-pipes. The women only are to
remain behind. Forward, my men!” )

He threw on an old coat, seized a strong iron bar,
which he carried on his shoulder, placed himself at the
head of his men, and led the way to the company’s mine.

It was not easy to force an entrance into the works.
The proprietors had set up all manner of barricades in
order to prevent Ivan’s carts from making any use of
the new road. On the gates there were boards with
“No trespassing. No one to pass this way without a
written order.”

No one now minded these orders. If a door or a
gate impeded their progress, Ivan thrust his iron rod
through it and soon made a passage, through which his

DIES IRE 333

men rushed pell-mell. The miners did not pause to
harness any horses to the machines. They harnessed
themselves, while others shoved behind, and drove them
on over sticks and stones down to the mouth of the pit.
Like an army of lunatics the party of rescuers rushed
on through the night, making their way as best they
could by means of the lanterns fastened to their waist-
bands. Soon, however, the darkness was again illu-
mined. The forge nearest to the pit, and consequently
the most exposed to the fiery heat, blew up suddenly,
and the flames from the heating-oven filled the air with
ared glow. The miners avoided, however, the direction
in which it burned, as it would be impossible to predicate
the direction which the molten metal would take.

When they reached the pit an awful spectacle pre-
sented itself. The ventilation-ovens which were placed
over the shaft-mouth were gone. The bricks and tiles
were scattered in a thousand directions all over the
fields. The large windlass of cast-iron lay on the
ground at a considerable distance from its former posi-
tion, and of the conical, bell-shaped buildings hardly a
stone was left. Only one wall was still standing; the
iron fasteners hung from its side. The northern en-
trance to the pit had fallen in. The handsome stone
gates lay in ruins. Stones, beams, iron bars, coals were
all mixed up together in heterogeneous confusion, as if
a volcano had vomited them out.

The air was filled with the cries of weeping women.
Hundreds upon hundreds of women and children, prob-
ably widows and orphans, held up their hands to heaven
and wept. Under their feet their husbands, their fa-
thers, brothers, lovers lay buried, and no one could help
them. _

More from recklessness than from actual courage

334 BLACK DIAMONDS

some men had already attempted to go down into the
pit. They had been at once stunned by the pressure of
the gas, and now their comrades, at the risk of their
own lives, were trying to drag them out by cords and
slings. Already one lay on the grass, while the women
stood round him wringing their hands.

Ivan now began to make his plans. “In the first
place,” he said, “no one is to venture near the pit.
Let all wait until I return.”

He took his way towards the house of the directors.
He forgot that he had sworn never to hold any com-
munication with Rauné. In any case, he was not to be
found. In the next town there was high festival. The
directors of the new railway had given a banquet in
honor of the completion of the tunnel. Rauné was
there. Ivan, however, met the second engineer coming
out of his house. He was a cool, phlegmatic man, and
consoled himself with the trite reflection that these
things happened everywhere. ‘The gates must be re-
built,” he said. “The pit roads must again be re-made,
and probably we shall have to sink another shaft. It
will cost a lot of money. Voila tout!”

“How many men are below?” asked Ivan.

“ Probably about a hundred and fifty.”

“Only! And what is to be done for them ?”

“Tt will be a hard job to get them out, for they were
at work at the passage which we were making be-
tween the north pit and the east to improve the venti-
lation.”

“Therefore there is no other entrance to the pit but
the one which has fallen in?”

“No; and the eastern shaft is also in ruins. The
flames came from there; you must have seen them.”

“Yes ; and I couldn’t understand how it was that the

DIES IRE 335

second explosion followed the first after an interval of a
few minutes.” -

“That is easily explained. The communicating wall
was already so thin that the explosion in the north pit
blew it into fragments ; the gas in the east pit undoubt-
edly was not kindled by the flames, for they had al-
ready gone out, but by the strong pressure of the air,
which was heated to fever-heat by the accumulation of
coal, and which, therefore, exploded through the shaft.
So it is when you put sand into the barrel of a gun; the
powder bursts the barrel before it throws out the sand.”

It was plain that the engineer took a very cold-
blooded view of the whole affair, and that the design for
the new stone gate was a matter of more interest to him
than the hundred and fifty lives which were in jeopardy.
Ivan saw there was little assistance to be got from him.

“Before we can attempt the rescue of the men who
are buried in the pit,” he said, “‘ we must pump the gas
out of the opening of the cavern. Where is your air-
pump?”

“Up there,” returned the engineer, pointing to the
sky; “that is to say, if it hasn’t fallen down.”

“You have no portable ventilator ?”

“We never contemplated the necessity of having
one.”

“T have brought mine, if we can adjust it.”

“T would gladly know how that can be done. If the
ventilator has a copper tube, it would be impossible to
introduce it through all the zigzag of the rubbish and
general wreck ; if it has an india-rubber pipe it would be
too weak, and wouldn’t stand being shoved forward.”

“ Some one must carry it into the pit.”

“Some one?” repeated the engineer, with an air of
amazement, “Look yonder; they are drawing up the

336 BLACK DIAMONNS

third man who was foolish enough to venture down
there ; he is dead, like the other two!” -

“No, none of them are dead ; they will soon recover
consciousness ; they are stifled by the foul air.”

“‘ All the same, I can hardly believe that you will find
a man mad enough to be the first to carry a tube fifty
steps through all the wreckage.”

“T have already found the man. I shall do it.”

The engineer shrugged his shoulders, but he made no
effort to dissuade him.

Ivan went back to the men, who meantime had been
getting ready for work. He called the oldest miner on
one side.

“ Paul,” he said, “some one must carry the india-
rubber tube of the ventilator into the mouth of the pit.”

“Good. Let us draw lots.”

‘““We shall do nothing of the kind. I shallgo. You
are all husbands and fathers with families. You have
wives and children to provide for. Ihave noone. How
long can a man hold out in that foul air without draw-
ing his breath ?”

“ A hundred beats of his pulse; no longer.”

“Good. Fetch me the pipe. Bind a cord round
my body and hold the other end. When you see that I
no longer carry the pipe, draw the cord slowly back, but
take care to draw slowly, in case that I should have
fainted and that a sudden pull might strangle me.”

Ivan loosened the woollen band from his waist,
steeped it in a vessel of vinegar, and wrung it out and
wrapped his face in it, so that his nose and mouth were
covered. He then bound the cord firmly round his
body, took the foremost end of the india-rubber pipe
upon his shoulder, and began to make his way through
the rubbish and déérés at the pit’s month,

DIES IR# 337

The old miner called after him, in a broken voice:
“Count the seconds. Fifty for going, fifty for coming
back.”

Ivan vanished behind the ruins. The miners took off
their caps and folded their hands. The old man held
the fingers of his right hand on the wrist of his left and
counted his pulse. He had already counted over fifty
and the other end of the pipe had not moved. It had
passed sixty and was near seventy when suddenly it
was pulled forward. Ivan had penetrated into the
deadly atmosphere. The old miner wiped the perspira-
tion from his brow. He counted eighty, ninety, a hun-
dred seconds. They shall never see him again. Then
the pipe remained steady.

Now they began to draw the rope. It was slack, and
not tightened by any burden. Ivan was, therefore, so
far safe; he was still walking, for the rope continued
slack. Suddenly it got stiffer. Be careful now. The
cord again slackened ; the old miner counted a hundred
and sixty seconds. Suddenly Ivan was seen coming out
of the pit’s mouth, supporting himself upon the fallen
stones of the archway; but his strength failed, and as
the men rushed to his assistance he tottered and fell
into their arms. His face was like that of a dying man.

They rubbed him with vinegar, and the fresh air soon
revived him. He sat up, and told them he was all
right, but—

“The air down there is something awful,” he said.
“What is happening to those poor creatures who are
buried below ?”

It never occurred to him to remember that those poor
creatures were the same ungrateful men who had de-
serted him, who had taken service with the men

who had sworn to ruin him, who had formed a con-
22

338 BLACK DIAMONDS

spiracy against him, who were ready to murder him,
who had sent a deputation to the enemies of their native
land. Here they lay, buried in the depths of mother-
earth, which thus revenged upon them their treachery,
Ivan had forgotten their sin against him and their coun-
try, and his only thought was to save them if there was
yet time.

Now that the ventilator had been set in motion, the
work of rescue might begin; but all the same it was
a terribly hard fight.

Ivan divided his band of men into two divisions.
Each man was only to stay an hour at the dangerous
work of clearing away the rubbish. Every one must
have his face covered by a cloth steeped in vinegar. So ~
soon as he began to feel faint he was to be carried away
by his comrades.

When the day began to break the wreck of the fallen
entrance had been moved to one side, but in the mouth
of the pit the sun could not penetrate. The vault of
slate-clay had fallen altogether to one side, so that
Ivan, when he had carried the pipe into the pit, had
found there was scarcely room to allow it to wind
through the chasms. In the spot where he had placed
the mouth of the pipe the vault was altogether de-
stroyed.

It was an undertaking almost superhuman. What
had been the work of weeks had to be done in so many
days. And yet it must be done.

In their work of clearing away the rubbish Ivan’s
men had very little assistance from the company’s men
for this reason: the explosion had taken place at the
time when the miners were relieved. When men are
working in collieries it is usual to relieve them four
times. It was the time of the midnight relief when the

DIES IRE 339

accident happened. One party of the miners had al-
ready gone down the shaft; they were undoubtedly suf-
focated. The other party were on their way out, and
were killed at once by the explosion. There was
another party who had only reached the resting-stage,
where neither the flames nor the fragments could touch
them. These men were buried alive. It therefore re-
sulted that of all the company’s miners only from twenty
to thirty were available.

The men who worked the forge were forbidden by the
director to give any help in the work of rescue. In all
the ovens the metal was in a liquid state; if it was not
attended to it would turn into rammers. The workmen
give the name of ram, or rammer, to a solid mass of iron,
which, in consequence of faulty melting, cannot be re-
moved from the oven, and it and the oven have to be
thrown away as useless lumber. The forge-work was
urgently needed. The railway greaves had to be fin-
ished by a certain date, or a large fine would have to
be paid. Ivan therefore had to set his men almost un-
aided to the task of clearing the pit. The women
helped with all their strength. Their husbands, the
bread-winners, were underneath the ruins.

What a terrible undertaking! In consequence of the
falling in of the arches the roof had, at a distance of six
feet, to be supported on plugs, and a sort of street made
through the ruins, where at every corner a new enemy
waited for the intrepid pioneers.

After the explosion the pit had -been overflowed by
water. The water-pipes had to be set to work, and
where these were not sufficient the men were obliged to
empty out the black slime in buckets, standing for hours
in stinking mud, breathing foul air, threatened with death
or mutilation from the constant falling of stones and

340 BLACK DIAMONDS

wreckage. Undaunted by these obstacles, the men made
their way step by step into the bowels of the earth.

In the afternoon Rauné arrived. In the middle of a
convivial festival he had heard the news. He was raging.
He came down the shaft and cursed all the dead men.

“The scoundrels! They have cost the company a
million of money! What does it matter if they are all
killed? Serves them right! Why should any of them be
saved? Stuff and nonsense! Let them suffocate, the
drunken dogs !”

The workers made him no answer. First, because
they could not take up their time talking, and, secondly,
because every man’s mouth was covered. The clearing
of a mine is very silent work.

But in the midst of his curses Rauné encountered one
workman, who placed himself in front of him and con-
fronted him with a steady look. This man was covered
with mud and coal like the other laborers, his face was
tied up with a cloth, and only the eyes were visible ;
they, too, were blackened with coal-dust, but Rauné knew
by their expression that it was Ivan. No one who had
ever looked into his eyes could forget him.

Rauné turned away without another word, and, in com-
pany with his engineer, left the pit. He interfered no
further with Ivan’s work.

Four days and four nights the men never ceased work-
ing. They triumphed over every obstacle and cut a
pathway through every difficulty. During those four
days Ivan never for one hour left the mine. He ate his
meals sitting on a stone, and snatched an hour’s sleep
in some corner.

On the fourth day the workmen came upon one of the
missing men. A man—no, but a mass, flattened against
the wall, of flesh and bones, which had once been a man.

DIES IR 341

Some feet farther on there lay another body on the
ground, but the head was nowhere to be seen. They
tried to get him on one of the wheelbarrows which were
for drawing coal, but he was all in fragments ; splinters
and shreds of that human body were sticking to every-
thing.

Then they came upon the charred, blackened corpses _
of the men who had been burned. They were not rec-
ognizable. :

Farther on there was a group of fifteen men crushed
by a huge weight of slate stratum. This could not be
moved, so they were left. It was more necessary to look
after the living than the dead. Everywhere they found
corpses ; still the number of the missing was not com-
plete.

The miners employed by the company told Ivan that
if any of the men were still living they would be found
at the resting-stage, where they left their coats before
they began to work and fetched them again as they went
up. In the passages, however, there had been such a
total upset that the oldest hand could not find his way.
In many places the explosion had torn down the partition
wall, in other places the entrance was stopped up with
rubbish, or the roof taken off some of the passages which
led into the inner vaults. It was all in such utter con-
fusion that no one could find out where the large vault
lay.

At last it struck Ivan that underneath a mass of coal
and slack he heard a faint, whimpering sound. He said
to the men, “ Dig this spot.”

At once they set to work to clear away the rubbish,
and as they cleared the company’s men began to recog-
nize different landmarks, which convinced them they
were at the right place,

342 BLACK DIAMONDS

“Yes, here is the door which leads to the resting-
stage.” The pressure of the air had shut the door close,
the side walls had fallen in, and so these, who had been
safe from the conflagration, had been buried alive.

The whimpering cry for help, like that of an infant’s
wail, was heard now more distinctly. The door, too, was
' plainly visible, and as it was swung off its hinges Ivan
took a light and peered into the dark cavern below.

No cry of joy reached him; the rescued men had not
the strength to make a sound. They were about a hun-
dred in all. They lay there still, speechless. Life had
almost ebbed away, but not altogether. They had suf-
fered the tortures of hunger and thirst, they had been
suffocated by the foul air, broken-hearted, despairing.
And now these human skeletons, when they saw the
light, could hardly raise a finger to show they were alive.
A heart-rending whimper, in which there was no human
tone, rose from the hundred parched throats. When the
explosion came they had been thrown upon their faces.
Their lamps had gone out, and it would have been mad-
ness to relight them. They had remained in total dark-
ness. After a little the danger of their situation increased.
Soon they began to feel that the water was gradually—
slowly at first—filling the space which served them as a
refuge and a grave, and this space or vault was, they
knew, a fathom deeper than the pit. They tried—for at
first they were not so weak—to get hold of some boards
and plugs that lay about, and out of these they made a
sort of stage or platform, upon which they all clambered,
and there waited for death—the death that might come
either through hunger, foul air, or drowning. When their
rescuers opened the door the water had reached the
threshold and touched the bottom of the wooden stage.

Ivan directed that the poor creatures should be carried

DIES IR# 343

carefully and silently out of their living grave. They did
not press forward, for they could not stand. Each man
lay where he was, and waited until his turn came. The
foretaste of death made every one tranquil. Some of
them could not at first open their eyes, but all were alive,
and Ivan could not help thinking how wonderful is the
strength of human nature.

He had saved them all, but the work was not yet fin-
ished. How if, beyond the breach of which the engineer
had spoken, there were more men waiting for deliverance?
One thing they must ascertain positively—if the explosion
had finished the work begun by the engineer’s men, and
had carried away the wall which had divided one pit
from the other. If this were so, it would considerably
lighten the work of those who had come to seek for
the victims. At the opening of the breach-tunnel lay a
man’s body; he was such a charred, burned mass that
he was unrecognizable. The dead man held in his hand ~
his safety-lamp. /¢ was open.

So this was the accursed one who had done the hellish
deed, and it was human folly that had caused this de-
moniacal explosion.

The corpse was not recognizable, the clothing was
burned to ashes. In his girdle, however, they found a
small steel casket, and in this casket a gold watch ; upon
the enamelled back was the portrait of a lovely woman.

When the watch was brought to Ivan he recognized
the portrait. It was Eveline. With the watch there
was also a bank-note for a hundred gulden. It was half
burned. Upon the back was written :

“A year ago to-day I received this money; to-day I
pay it back.” Whata fearful repayment!

Ivan was now able to grasp the connection between

344 BLACK DIAMONDS

the words and the acts of this terrible man, whose recol-
lection of his own act of eating human flesh had prompt-
ed him to an unexampled and most horrid massacre.
His threats after Evila’s elopement, his entering into
the company’s service, the last occasion upon which he
had drunk brandy, and the breath he had blown into
Ivan’s face. All was now explained. This was part of
the drama. This man had acharacter such as Antichrist
might be possessed of. His soul and body were full of
concealed demons, who prompted him to take revenge
of those who had offended him, ridiculed him, stolen
from him, scorned him, treated him as a fool, insulted
him with money, tempted him with luxuries, and taken
advantage of his simplicity to pull him by the nose.

All of them should fall. He.would pull the founda-
tion-stone from under their feet, even if he dug his own
grave in so doing. They should fall from their high
estate —the banker, the pastor, the capitalist, the min-
ister, and the actress.

In hell the demons could teach Peter nothing.

Ivan stood before the unsightly corpse deep in thought.
In his heart there raged a wild conflict of passions. He
also had been robbed, oppressed by the wealth of his
enemies, his heart wounded by a hundred poisoned ar-
rows, and this by the same men upon whom the revenge-
ful hate ‘of Peter Saffran had fallen. Ivan had come to
their help. He had saved the lives and the property of
his foes—at least, what they called their property; the
monstrous treasure which lies in the very bowels of the
earth does not, in truth, belong altogether to any man,
but to all men; it is the treasure-trove of the state,
destined to serve and minister to all ages.

And yet a great dread, an unconquerable fear, pos-
sessed Ivan. He dared not mention his fear to any one,

DIES IRE 345

for if he were to share his suspicion with any one of the
workmen, who up to this had followed him obediently
through every peril, they would, without another word,
have turned their backs and fled for their lives.

The wire cylinder of Saffran’s safety-lamp was filled
to the very top with a red flame. This was a warning
that the atmosphere was still charged with one-third of
hydrogen gas, and that only two-thirds were of fresh air.

But there is an even greater danger to be feared than
the pit-gas. Its fearful spirit had been laid; the victims
lay silent upon the wheelbarrows. Yet another and a
worse spirit lurks in ambush—a foe who goes about with
closed eyes, whose presence is awful in its consequences:
it is the carbon from the coals.

When the men had made the breach through the tun-
nel, they found, just as the engineer had said, that the
explosion had burst through the partition wall, and that
the débris had only to be removed, and the passage be-
tween the east and the north pits would be established.
Not one of the workmen could remain long at this work.
After some moments each one returned coughing, and
complaining that in that place his safety-lamp would
not burn.

In the pits the flame of the lamp filled the whole cyl-
inder ; this was not reassuring. But in the neighborhood
of the ruins it would hardly burn; this was a far more
serious sign.

The last miner who returned said that as he removed
a large lump of coal such a terrible stench had pene-
trated through his mouth-protector that he had almost
fainted. The smell was like that of putrid vegetable
matter.

The old hands knew what this putrid stench signified.
Paul suggested to Ivan that he should go and examine

346 BLACK DIAMONDS

whence it came. Let him cover his mouth very care-
fully, and hasten back as soon as possible,

Ivan took his iron rod and his lamp, and went.
Seizing hold of the rod with both hands, he struck it
with all his strength into a mass of coal, upon which the
lump rolled with a great noise into the adjoining space.
He then fastened his lamp to the hook of his rod and
pushed it into the hollow. The lamp went out at once,
and as he looked from the darkness into the hollow, to
his horror he saw in the next vault a red glow which
lighted up the space. He knew at once there was no
time to lose. He never paused to withdraw his rod,
but rushed back to the men.

“The east pit is burning!” he cried.

No one answered, but the men seized hold of Ivan,
and bore him with them out of the pit into the open air.
Behind them followed the horrible stench—not merely
that of foul air such as accompanies “bad weather,”
often with fatal effect; this was the more insidious car-
bon, that which kindles pit-fires, baffles the ingenuity of
man, respects neither the brave nor the scientific, and
which, when once it has begun, can never be turned
back. There is nothing to do but to run for the bare
life.

In a few minutes the pit was empty.

As they issued into the light of day they were sur-
rounded by countless women and children, weeping and
screaming in their joy at being reunited to their lost
ones.

The engineer was also there. Ivan went straight to
him. Taking the cloth from his mouth, he said:

“Do you know, sir, what is going on down there in
your mine? Complete, utter ruin! The east pit is
burning; it must have been alight some days, for the

DIES 1R# 347

whole pit is red-hot. I shall never forget the sight.
Now let me tell you what this means. It is not the
hand of human wickedness, neither is it the avenging
hand of God; it is altogether caused by the negligence
of the overseer. You, who are a great scientist, know
as well as I do that collieries take fire when sulphur gets
mixed with coal-dust and is allowed to lie in a heap. It
is always hot down there, and when the stuff is fanned
by the air it lights of itself. Your pit is full of this dan-
gerous burning mist. And now both your pit and my
mine are finished. The colliery fire can never be extin-
guished. You have heard of the burning mountain of
Dutweeler? A hundred and twenty years ago that coal-
mine took fire; it is still burning. Here we shall expe-
rience another such tragedy. Good-morning.”

The engineer only shrugged his shoulders; it was
nothing to him.

Ivan shook the dust of the God-forsaken colony off
his feet. He and his men returned to his own side of
the mountain.

Meantime what had happened to his own mine? He
had been absent four days and four nights, and had
never given it a thought.

CHAPTER XXVII

FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS

Any one who wishes to understand the meaning of
the proverb, “There is only one step from the sublime
to the ridiculous,” should gamble on the stock - ex-
change; there he will learn the full meaning of the
words.

To-day you are a deity, to-morrow the meanest of
street curs. ‘To-day sixty agents shriek out the name of
your speculation ; you are a sort of king, and all the
other kings on ’change study your countenance to see
how the wind shifts. ‘To-day, so soon as one o'clock
strikes by the town clock, a swarm of buyers come round
you. Your note-book is held up to the view of all the
agents. It is handed from one to another; it is placed
upon the back of an agent, and the competitors write
the number of shares they want. To-day all hands
point to the percentage, which is the proof of your high
estate. To-day the crowd who are speculating on your
credit fill all the passages; they scream out, “I sell!”
“T buy!” Even outside the stock-exchange sweet creat-
ures of the opposite sex, who like dabbling in stock
quite as much as do the male creation, make their
books. Women are prohibited from showing their faces
on ’change; but they gamble all the same. Hundreds
of ladies wait upon the stock-broker, with a copy of the
exchange list in their hands; they have marked your

FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS 349

Shares. Still greater ladies sit outside the exchange in
their grand carriages. In their eagerness they stretch
their heads out of their carriage windows to know from
the first-comer at what figure the shares—your shares—
stand.

This is all to-day. To-morrow you are not to be
found; your name is scratched out of the exchange
list. Every one knows that your affair has “burst.”
You are nowhere. You are nobody. Your place is
empty.

The firm of Kaulmann stood at the summit of its tri-
umph. Felix and his bosom friend, the Abbé Samuel,
were enjoying their afternoon siesta. The room was
full of a cloud of smoke, and under its soothing influ-
ence the friends were building castles in the air.

“ To-morrow,” said Felix, “the pope’s loan upon the
Hungarian Church lands will be floated at the ex-
change.”

“To-morrow I shall receive from Vienna my appoint-
ment as titular Bishop of the Siebenbiirger.”

“The silver kings are ready to plank down their mill-
ions on the loan.”

“The pope gives it his blessing,” murmured the abbé.
“The cardinal’s hat is ready for my head.”

“The legitimist financiers have shown a decided ob-
jection to my wife appearing on the stage. This may
injure the loan; therefore I intend to-morrow to explain
to her that she is not legally my wife.”

“Ts it true that Prince Waldemar has arrived in
Paris ?”

“Ves, he has come after Eveline.”

“ But his presence here will be injurious to our specu-
lation. He is our declared enemy.”

350 BLACK DIAMONDS

“He cannot injure us now. Since he met such a
total defeat in the matter of the Bondavara mine and
the railway his teeth have been drawn. He and his
bears have kept very quiet.”

“ Then it is Eveline who has brought him here ?”

“He is mad about her; he follows her everywhere
like a dog, and is only anxious to pick up any crumb
she will give him.”

“But she cannot endure him.”

“That is the worse for her. It was greatly Prince
Theobald’s doing. That old fellow is mad.”

“Ts it not the case that the Countess Angela’s hus-
band wants to put the prince’s affairs into the hands of
trustees ?”

“ Before we left Vienna there was some talk of it.”

“Will this affect in any way the Bondavara shares ?”

“In no way. The only unmortgaged portion of his
capital is absolutely made over to the company. I can
assure you, the Bondavara speculation is built upon a
rock of gold.”

As he spoke three telegraphic despatches were
brought in by the servant. One of these was addressed
to the abbé, under cover to the firm of Kaulmann.

“Lupus in fabula,” said Kaulmann, as he handed the
first telegram to the abbé. The abbé read:

“The Prince Theobald has been declared incapable
of managing his own affairs.”

“Poor Eveline, she will have leisure to repent!” re-
marked Felix, with a cynical smile.

As he was speaking the abbé opened the telegram
addressed to him. He handed it to Felix, saying:

“ And I, too, shall have time to repent.”

FROM THE SUBLIME TO THE RIDICULOUS 35!

The telegram ran: |

“The minister has resigned; the emperor has ac-
cepted his resignation; the whole system is to be
changed.”

“Good-bye to the bishop’s mitre, to the cardinal’s
hat ; good-bye to the velvet arm-chair in the House of
Peers.”

They read the third telegram together. It contained
these words :

Explosion- in the Bondavara colliery. The whole
mine is on fire.”

“This is indeed a blow,” said Felix, as he let the tele-
gram fall from hishand. The three telegrams had come
like three flashes of lightning. The last was the worst.

When the news reached Prince Waldemar he would
let the bears loose with a vengeance. Something must
be done to avert the imminent danger—but what?

If there was only time allowed to float the papal loan
such small things as the Bondavara shares and the burn-
ing of mines would be of little consequence. But could
the enemy be reduced to silence ?

It was settled that the abbé should without delay re-
pair to Eveline, and that Kaulmann should speak to
Prince Waldemar.

The beaming faces of the two men now wore a sombre
air. They had only one card to play—the smile of a
woman was their only salvation.

CHAPTER XXVIII

TWO CHILDREN

EvELINE had arrived in Paris at a very important
moment. Two great changes had been made in the
world of fashion: the Empress Eugenie had decreed
that the crinoline should be laid aside, and Cardinal
Chigi, the papal nuncio, had pronounced that dresses
closed to the throat should be worn at receptions. Piety
had become the rage. It was considered good taste to
go to church and to wait for the sermon.

Piety being, therefore, the fashion, no better moment
could have been chosen by Kaulmann for floating the
papal loan. He was well pleased to find that Eveline
was as eager in the pursuit of piety as any of her fair
sisters, the truth being that it harmonized with the poor
child’s frame of mind. A few days after her arrival in
Paris her cripple brother had died. A celebrated sur-
geon had performed an operation which had put him
out of pain forever. Eveline grieved over her loss; now
she felt alone in the world, she had no one to love, no
one to live for. She kept the boy’s useless crutches<a
her room, one on each side of her dressing-table, and
twice a week she went to the church-yard and put fresh
flowers on the little grave. The penitential fashion just
suited her. She preferred to sing Mozart and Handel
in the church than Verdi at the opera.

One day she conceived the idea that she would have

TWO CHILDREN 353

a sacred concert in her own drawing-room ; the price of
the tickets should be high, and the proceeds would be
for some good purpose—God knows what! perhaps to
buy arms for the papal zouaves. She was busy making
out her programme when the door opened, and Arpad
Belenyi, unannounced, rushed in in his old unceremoni-
ous way.

Eveline was delighted to see her former friend. She
threw down her pen, ran to meet him, holding out both
her hands.

“Oh, you delightful person, what has brought you
here ?”

“My profession. I am looking for some place where
I may strike the cymbals and give a concert.”

“What a coincidence; you have come at the right
moment. But how did you find me out?”

“Not much difficulty in that. If I didn’t see your
name in the list at the Opera, I couldn’t avoid seeing it
outside St. Eustache.”

“ Then you have heard me sing ?”

“In both places—the theatre and thechurch. I must |
tell you I think the good fathers lay it on pretty strong.
For twelve francs I heard you at the Opera, and had the
play into the bargain ; but I didn’t get out of the church
so cheap. A beautiful lady took twenty francs from
me.”

“You silly man! Well, I will pay it back to you.
What are your terms ?”

“May I ask your reason for the question ?”

“ How stupid you are! I am not going to engage you
for a restaurant. What are your terms for playing the
piano at an evening concert?”

“To you, merely thanks; to the public, five hundred
francs.”

23

354 BLACK DIAMONDS

“‘ But if it is for a charitable purpose ?”

“Then either not at all or for money.”

“No, no. You are a cynical creature! Don’t you
feel sympathy for any one? Would you do nothing for
the poor?”

“T know a poor woman to whom I owe everything ;
that is my mother. Every farthing which I give to an-
other is taken from her. When the world has given
back to her all that she has lost, then I shall give to the
world all that I possess; but until then everything be-
longs to my mother.”

“Very good; you shall pay your mother. You shall
have the five hundred francs; but for this you must
play something super-excellent—Liszt’s Mass or one of
Handel’s oratorios.”

“What is the concert got up for? Is it to help a re-
ligious object? or is it for the papal zouaves ?”

“Yes. Iam arranging it.”

“Then I can do nothing.”

“Why so ?”

““Why, because I shall not play for Garibaldi’s ene-
mies !”

“Oh, what a goose you are, to be sure! Who asks
you to play for Garibaldi’s enemies? You play for my
friends.”

But the young man kept repeating no, no, he wouldn’t,
and in his excitement he got up from his seat, and, throw-
ing back his waistcoat, showed her that he wore a red
shirt. ;

Eveline laughed unrestrainedly. “A red shirt! So
that means that you have enlisted as a Garibaldian ?”

“T should have done so long ago only for my mother.”

* And what would you do if your hand was shot
off ?”

TWO CHILDREN 355

“Then I should become a pensioner to some fine
lady, who would, I know, support me.”

Eveline burst into tears. His words had touched a
chord in her tender heart. Arpad, however, could not
imagine what he had said to grieve her; he tried to con-
sole her, and asked how he had offended her. Still sob-
bing, she said:

“My poor little brother is dead. There by my table
I keep his crutches.”

“Tam sorry for you; with all my heart I sympathize
in your grief. Hé and I were good friends; we had
plenty of fun together.”

“Yes; you liked him. The world is quite dead to
me; everything is changed. I listen for the sound
of his crutches scratching along the floor up the stairs.
Ah, my little brother! I have no one now. I want
some one to take care of. I should like to nurse some
one—an artist who had lost his eyesight; a musician
whose right hand had been shot off; ora political hero,
who, being pursued, concealed himself in my room, and
to whom I should be benefactress, protectress, bread-
winner, everything.”

“Why don’t you go to Garibaldi ?”

She was laughing now; her moods were as variable
as an April day.

“You have heard me sing in public. What do you
say of me?”

“T say you would be a great artist if you could sing
for the devils as well as you do for the angels.”

“TI don’t understand. What do you mean by the devils?”

“You surely have heard from the pulpit that the
theatre is the devil’s synagogue ?”

“You rude man! Don’t you know that I belong to
the theatre ?”

356 BLACK DIAMONDS

“TI beg pardon a thousand times. I believed that in
the daytime you were an abbess and at night you were
an actress; that would be a fair bargain.”

“You silly boy! Why do you think I am an ab-
bess ?”

“ Because you are dressed as such.”

“This is only a penitential dress. You godless
creature, you are making fun of religion !”

“No, madame. I agree that it is a great mortifica-
tion to wear gray silk, a great penance to play the co-
quette with downcast eyes, a real fast to eat crawfish at
twenty francs the dish. I am also told that the reason
the fashionable ladies of Paris have taken to wearing
high dresses is that they discipline the flesh so severely
that their shoulders and necks are one mass of scars,
and therefore the effects of their flagellations must be
concealed.”

“That is not true. We don’t do anything of the
kind.”

“The world says so. I don’t want to inquire; it is
your secret.”

“Tt is not true,” Eveline repeated. “We do not
flagellate ourselves ; look!” And kneeling down before
Arpad she raised the lace collar which was round her
neck and made him look at her fair skin.

They were a pair of children.

Arpad took his hat and his leave. He left a card
with his address, but he would have no share in her
concert.

Eveline, however, went on writing her programme.

CHAPTER XXIX

IMMACULATE

EVELINE was still writing her programme when the
Abbé Samuel was announced. In Paris it is not
thought out of the way for an abbé to visit an actress,
and, for the rest, the abbé was an old friend, well known
to both husband and wife. He was naturally very much
interested in the concert, and read the programme most
attentively.

“It would have been all so nice,” said Eveline, in a
vexed tone, “only for that stupid Arpad. See, father,
just there, between my song and the violoncello solo, he
would have come in so well.”

“Ts Arpad in town?”

“Yes, he has only just gone. I begged of him to
help my concert; and my song from the Stabat Mater
would have gone so much better to the harmonium, and
he accompanies beautifully; but he has grown quite
silly ; he has become a heretic.”

The priest shook his sides with laughter, and then a
sudden idea struck him. It was plain Eveline liked
Arpad, which was only natural, for they were about the
same age. He was twenty, she nineteen—a pair of chil-
dren, and children like to amuse themselves. They
don’t care for serious things ; that comes later. What
if he made use of Arpad to introduce Waldemar.

“] should like to take a bet with you that Arpad Be-

358 BLACK DIAMONDS

lenyi will play the piano at your concert, and that,
moreover, he will accompany your Stabat Mater on
the harmonium. If he does so, what will you give
me ?”

“Oh, he won’t do it; you may be sure of that! I
know him well; he is very obstinate once he takes any-
thing into his cockatoo’ s head, and if 7 have not been
able to persuade him—

Eveline had immense faith in the magic power of her
black eyes.

“Well, you shall see. What will you give me if I
succeed ?” repeated the abbé.

Eveline replied to this question by another:

“How do you mean to get round him?” She said
nothing of what she would give in case he succeeded.

“Oh, there are many ways; for instance, I might say
to him that if he played in your drawing-room it is very
likely he may be engaged by the empress, and that then
his fortune was made—at least,for this season. An
artist would at once see what a chance this would be.
Then I would offer him money.”

“T have. done that already—five hundred francs.”

“Well, although a young man may turn up his nose
at five hundred francs, an old woman will appreciate a
hundred Napoleons at their true value. Arpad must
obey his mother’s wishes, and what she promises for
him he must do. I know the circumstances.”

** You are a very sensible man. I should have begun
with the mother, but it never occurred to me. Well,
manage it alt for me. If you only accomplish it I shall
do whatever you ask me.”

She was in such good-humor that the abbé saw he
could ask her anything; still, it was with a slight
hesitation that he said:

iMMACULATE 380

““T want you to give me an invitation for your charity
concert for a friend of mine.”

“ You shall have ten,” cried Eveline, joyfully.

“T only require one, but this invitation must be
written with your own hand.”

“Give me the name of your friend and I will write
the card this moment.”

As she spoke she seated herself at her writing-table,
took an invitation-card from her drawer, and made all
ready to begin.

“ Now the name.”

‘** Prince Waldemar Sondersheim.”

When she heard the name Eveline threw down her
pen and sprang hastily to her feet.

“ No,” she said, decidedly, “ never !”’

The abbé burst into a shrill laugh. “Your excite-
ment is very becoming,” he said. “You are a fine
actress.”

“T shall not invite Prince Sondersheim to my con-
cert,” returned Eveline, seating herself on the sofa with
a defiant air.

“Is the prince disagreeable to you?”

“T loathe him.”

“Do you imagine that the world contains nothing
but simpletons like Arpad Belenyi ?”

Eveline got up from the sofa, went to the writing-
table, and tore the programme she had been writing
into a hundred pieces.

“Arpad may stay at home, tied to his mother’s
apron-strings. I don’t want him nor any one. I'll give
‘up the concert ;’ and she threw the torn fragments of
her programme into the fireplace.

The abbé rose from his seat and took the excited girl
by the hand,

360 BLACK DIAMONDS

““Compose yourself, my dear young lady,” he said.
‘“‘T have come to you on a most urgent matter—a matter
which is of serious consequence to you and your hus-
band, and I do not deny that it is of great moment to
me. I may, in fact, call it of vital importance to each
one of us. If it should turn out as badly as it threatens
your husband shall have to go to America, I must return
to my monastery, and what will become of you I do not
know.”

Eveline sat down again on the sofa. She listened to
him attentively.

“ At all events, you will have to go out of this,” went
on the abbé, “and that without loss of time. You must
know that the old Prince Theobald, after you had re-
turned to him the palace in the Maximilian Strasse,
which he had made a present to you, took shares in
your name in the Bondavara Company to the amount of
a million.”

“T never knew it,” said Eveline.

“That proves that you never thought of asking your
husband what the expense of this splendid hotel was, to
say nothing of your magnificent carriage and horses,
your numerous servants, your conservatory—”

“T thought that my salary, added to what Herr Kaul-
mann—” She stopped suddenly; the incredulous smile
on the abbé’s lips made her silent. He continued:

“All this splendor is at an end. A telegram which
came a few hours ago brings the news that, at the suit
of his son-in-law, Prince Theobald’s affairs have been
placed in the hands of trustees ; the trustees will, with-
out any doubt, seize the shares taken for you.” :

“They may do as they like,” returned the girl, indiffer-
ently.

“Oh, there may be a lawsuit! But there is worse to

IMMACULATE 361

come. Another telegram brings the news that last week
there was a fearful explosion at the Bondavara colliery.”

At this news Eveline gave a cry; then quickly asked:

“ And Herr Behrend, has his mine also exploded ?”

The abbé looked somewhat surprised, but continued,
in his earnest manner:

““T believe not. The company’s shares, however, have
received a terrible blow. The more so, that one of the
collieries is still burning, with no chance of being extin-
guished.” 7

As he spoke he looked fixedly at her, and his penetra-
tion soon took in the truth: that her joy at the escape
of Behrend’s property outweighed her sorrow for her
husband’s loss.

“You can understand,” continued the abbé, “in what
danger we are of actual ruin; everything now depends
upon one thing. Of course, you are aware that, in con-
sequence of the Bondavara Company, Kaulmann’s repu-
tation is one of the highest in the financial world. Mill-
ions of money have actually been put into the affair,
and ten times as much is floating in the air of the
stock-exchange. Money is nota tangible quantity. This
catastrophe—which, after all, may still be averted, for it
is possible that the fire may be extinguished—will be a
terrible engine in the hands of the enemies of the com-
pany, who want, above all things, to upset Kaulmann.
The colliery explosion is a powder-mine in the hands of
the bears. To-day he is a king, hands full of gold are
stretched out to him, a hundred millions are eagerly
offered to him; to-morrow these very people will sur-
round him, clamoring to get back their money, which
they have intrusted to him. Whether the cry is raised
or not depends altogether on one man, and this man
is Prince Waldemar Sondersheim. He is here; he ar-

362 BLACK DIAMONDS

rived to-day. Probably he has had news of the explo-
sion sooner than Kaulmann, whose director, Rauné, no
doubt, hoped against hope to get the fire under. Kaul-
mann’s fate lies in the hands of Prince Sondersheim,
and so does my own, I do not conceal it. I was
the pivot of an enormous, world-wide project. To-
morrow Kaulmann’s proposal for the Church loan was
to be laid before the financial world of Paris and Brus-
sels; it is an important crisis that may give to history
a new page. If Prince Waldemar makes use of his
knowledge of the collapse of the Bondavara Company
to raise a cry against us, then the whole fabric upon
which so much is built vanishes as a dream. If he or
his bears call out on the exchange that the Bondavara
shares are sixty per cent. below par we are lost. If he
keeps silent the loan will float splendidly, and then the
Bondavara misfortune will sink into a matter of small
importance, such as constantly occurs in the money-
market. Now you can understand what an effect a word
from you may have, and what you can do if you speak
this word.”

Eveline shook her head, and laid her finger on her
lips; she looked the very genius of silence.

“What!” cried the abbé, his anger getting the better
of him, “you refuse? You think more of one word that
can cost you nothing than of the consequences? The
Holy See may be overthrown, the standard of infidelity
may be unfurled, the saints torn from their shrines—and
all for a woman’s caprice,”

Eveline spread out her arms as if she were engaged in
a combat with a giant. She called out, in a resolute
voice :

“No; I cannot speak to that man.”

The abbé grew angry. He said to himself if he could

IMMACULATE 363

not persuade this vexatious woman, at least he would
give himself the pleasure of wounding her in a tender
point. He took his hat in his hand, and, holding it be-
hind his back, said, in a cold, cutting voice :

“I neither understand your dislike to the prince nor
your extreme delicacy. Prince Sondersheim is no way
inferior to the men you have admitted to your intimacy.”

At this insult Eveline seized the hand of the abbé, and
cried, with a sudden abandonment of her usual reserve:

“Oh, father, I have never been a wife; I am still as
innocent as a child!”

The abbé looked at her in unfeigned astonishment.
He saw by her burning blushes, her modest, downcast
eyes, her childish sobs, that she was speaking the truth.
He sighed deeply ; he could not help it. It was his last
stake, and he had lost. Good-bye to glory, to greatness.
All had vanished into thin air at Eveline’s words ; they
had scattered his dreams. He recognized that all the great
deeds which have made men famous were as dust and
ashes in comparison with the real nobility of soul pos-
sessed by this peasant girl, this woman who, in obedi-
ence to her husband’s infamous commands, and because
she had sworn to obey him, had worn the mask of a
Phryne while she preserved the purity of a saint. By
no act of his should she descend from her pedestal.

“ Eveline,” he said, in a voice of deep emotion, “the
words you have spoken banish me to my cell. My
dreams of power and splendor lie in the dust—their
fitting place. You said,‘I am still innocent’; my child,
keep yourself so. The French law recognizes no mar-
riage unless it has been contracted before the civil author-
ities, Your marriage with Felix Kaulmann is in this
country null and void ; you are here Mademoiselle Eva
Dirkmal, nothing more. You can tell Kaulmann that I

364 BLACK DIAMONDS

have told you this. I have given him the same informa-
tion, as he wished to free himself from this nominal tie to
you. And now, farewell; I return to my monastery, to
reconcile myself with an offended God.”

Eva Dirkmal threw herself at the feet of the priest,
and covered his hands with tears and kisses.

“Put your hand upon my head,” she sobbed, “and
ask God to bless me.”

“My daughter,” said the abbé, “an invincible hand
watches over you and protects you. May you ever be
thus safely guarded.”

With these words the priest left the room. He did
as he said; he sought no further interview with Kaul-
mann, but went straight to the railway, and buried him-
self in his monastery. The world knew him no more.

CHAPTER XXX

MAN AND WIFE

Fe.tx lost no time in seeking an interview with
Prince Waldemar. He preferred to look for him in his
own house than to meet him accidentally on ’change.

Waldemar did not keep him long waiting, neither did
he treat him to any display of his superior rank. He
received him in his study.

“ Ah, your highness is occupied with business,” said
Felix, with the airy manner of an intimate friend; but
he was secretly astonished to see that a man of the
prince’s high position was actually cutting the pages-
of the pamphlet before him, and underlining with red
and blue pencil-marks the passages that pleased him
most.

The prince laid down thexpamphlet, and asked Felix
to take a chair.

“T have only this moment heard,” continued the
banker, “that your excellency had arrived in Paris, and
I hastened to be the first to pay my respects.”

“Strange! At this very moment, I, too, was occupy-
ing myself with your affairs,” returned the prince, with
a peculiar smile, which Felix noted and thought he
understood. He tried to put on a jaunty air as he made
answer :

“T have come as an envoy under the protection of a
flag of truce into the enemy's country.”

366 BLACK DIAMONDS

The prince thought to himself, “ The fellow’s flag of
truce is a handkerchief worked with the letter E.”

“Even greater powers than we,” went on Felix, twirl-
ing his hat in his fingers with some embarrassment,
“have in sudden emergencies co-operated, and from be-
ing enemies have become fast friends, recognizing that
to bury the hatchet was for their mutual advantage.”

“And may I inquire what is for our mutual advan-
tage! >???

“My projected loan.”

The prince said nothing, but the smile that played
upon his thin lips was a sufficient and most irritating
answer. Felix began to lose his calmness. He rose
from his chair, and in his earnestness leaned over the
table at which the prince was sitting.

“Prince,” he said, “this loan is for the benefit of the
Holy See. You are, I know, a good Catholic.”

“Who has betrayed my secret ?”

“ Besides, you are a thorough aristocrat. It must go
against your highness’s feelings to see that while in
Hungary a bureaucratic minister pillages the Church
and puts its revenues in his pocket, a band of freeboot-
ers throws the patrimony of St. Peter to the mob. All
this can be prevented by our striking one blow. You
will strike it, for you are a nobleman in the best sense —
of the word.”

“What else am I?”

“Above all, you are a financier. It cannot escape
your keen eye that this loan is one of the greatest, the
soundest of speculations; for you are a prudent man,
and you know how to add two and two.”

“Have I any other qualifications ?”

Waldemar’s cold, sarcastic rejoinders did not put
Felix out of countenance. His face assumed a still

MAN AND WIFE 367

more amiable expression as he offered his hand to the
prince, saying, in a cordial manner :

“JT trust you will be the honored friend of the house
of Kaulmann.”’

These words would be met either by a warm shake of
the hand or by a box on the ear. He ran the risk, wait-
ing breathlessly for the answer, which was different
from, and yet worse than, that he expected. The prince
took up the pamphlet which he had been busy under-
lining with red and blue pencil.

“Now, my excellent brother in the faith, my fellow
aristocrat, my comrade in finance, and my best friend,
just you throw your eye over this little brochure, for
there you will find my answer. I beg that you will take
your time.”

He handed the pamphlet to Felix, and while that
gentleman cast his eye over it the prince pared his nails
carefully.

Felix laid down the pamphlet. ‘This purports to be
my biography.”

“ As I think the title-page mentions.”

“Your highness is, I presume, the writer ?”

“T have given the heads.”

“There are all manner of affairs mentioned here in
which I have played a sorry part by throwing dust in
the eyes of the public, principally, however, in the Bon-
davara speculation, in which, it seems, I have announced
a false balance and a feigned bonus, drawn ten millions
out of the capital, which capital is now irrecoverably
lost by the late catastrophe in the mine. It is a terrible
indictment against me.”

“ Perhaps it is not true ?”

“Tt is true! Your highness is my faithful biogra-
pher ; but allow me to fill up the details of the memoir.

368 BLACK DIAMONDS

The unlooked-for misfortune of yesterday can be re-
paired to-morrow; the unlucky speculation may be
glossed over if a better takes its place; a small defeat
is compensated by a great victory. What use does your
highness intend to make of this brochure ?”

“Frankly, I intend, as soon as you declare your new
loan, to circulate this pamphlet freely on ’change. I
shall then set the bears to work, so that in no time
your shares shall be driven out of the market.”

““T guessed as much, and, to be frank, it was on this
very account that I have come here, to prevent, if I
can, such ruin to myself.”

Felix tried by continuous winking of his eyes to ex-
press his despair. He put his right hand into his vest,
and in a low voice added :

“Perhaps when you see me stretched dead before
you your aim will then be accomplished,”

Prince Waldemar broke into an irrepressible fit of
laughter and clapped Kaulmann on the shoulder.

“T beg of you not to act a farce for my benefit. You
did not come here to blow your brains out. Nothing of
the sort; you came to sell me something. You are a™
ruined speculator, but you still possess one jewel of
value, a wonderful black carbuncle which you found in
the coal-mine and got smoothly cut, which you have al-
ready sold at a great profit, but which is now back on
your hands. You are perfectly aware that I desire to
get this jewel if I can, that I am willing to offer all I
have for it ; and this is why you have come here to-day.
Let us understand one another. I will treat with you.
What is your price ?”

The prince threw himself back in his chair, but he
let Kaulmann stand without again asking him to be
seated.

MAN AND WIFE 369

The banker gave up his tragic manner, and resumed
his customary cool, hard, matter-of-fact voice.

“First of all, this;” and he laid his hand upon the
pamphlet.

“Good! You shall have it—a thousand copies and
the manuscript. You can burn it, unless you care to
keep it as a souvenir.”

“Secondly,” went on Felix, “you must abandon your
conspiracy against me. During the three days of raising
the loan your bears are to keep quiet; there are to be
no manceuvres. Thirdly, your name must appear in the
list of subscribers with a good sum after it.”

“Good! We shall understand one another. , Now
listen to my modifications of your proposal. On the
first day when the shares of the new loan are drawn I
undertake to keep the bears quiet, but I shall take no
shares. On the second day I shall also keep quiet, but
I shall not give you a shove. On the third day I shall
take one million shares, and from that time I undertake
to push your speculation as if I were your best friend.”

“ And why not on the first two days ?”

“T will tell you what is to happen on those days. This
very day you must go to madame and tell her that Prince
Theobald’s fortune is sequestrated and that she can no
longer occupy his hotel. Madame was once generous
enough to return to the prince his palace in the Maxi-
milian Strasse, together with all it contained. She will
have to repeat this act of renunciation and return to her
husband’s roof. Her husband must celebrate this happy
event by a splendid entertainment, to which he will, as
a matter of course, invite his best friend.” Here the
prince laid, with a significant gesture, his little finger on
his breast. “The friend will take this opportunity to show

madame a photograph of his summer palace, which is
24

ky Le BLACK DIAMONDS

situated on the Lake of Constance, and only waits for
the presence of its mistress to be perfection, while she
stands in great need of the lovely breezes of the lake to
restore her.”

“You are really very thoughtful.”

“Do not praise me too soon. On the second day
you must have an explanation with madame. You will
tell her that in France a marriage, to be legal, must be
contracted before the civil magistrate; therefore you
will go with her before the registrar and have yourself
legally married.”

“ But, prince,” cried Felix, with a horrified expression
upon his face, “why should I do that ?”

“Why?” returned the prince, standing up in his turn,
so as to be able the better to overwhelm his victim.
** Because I wish to defeat your little game. You took
to yourself a wife in another country, knowing you could
repudiate her here. It is my wish that madame shall
bear your name always; otherwise you would have it in
your power on the fourth day to say to me, ‘I gave you
what was not mine to give.’ I shall have the diamond in
its proper setting. I shall not remove the centre-stone
from your wedding-ring; but I shall wear it on my fin-
ger.”

Kaulmann could not conceal his embarrassment.
“This whim is incomprehensible,” he said.

“On the contrary,” returned the other, with a devilish
sneer, “it is quite clear; it simply means that 7 know |
you au fond. And now to my own affairs. I am des-
perately in love with one woman, and she detests me.
She will not even look at me. But she little thinks I
know the reason of her abhorrence. Your wife is a
virtuous woman. You look surprised—naturally. It is
no merit of yours that she has remained so. Oh, you

MAN AND WIFE 371

need not protest! Prince Theobald has told me the
whole history. Among other things, he made her swear
that she would never receive me. Poor old fool! He
did not act with much knowledge of human nature, If
he had not interfered it’s very likely I should have
tired of pursuing a woman who did not care for me;
but the mystery that surrounded her has added to my
interest. I adore her, not alone for her beauty, her
charm, but for her innocence, her goodness. She re-
quires nothing to raise her in my estimation; but before
the world she must take her fitting place. She must
have the shield of her husband’s name, the right to his
protection. Now you understand what I require of you.”

“Prince, your ideas are demoniacal. You wish to
bind me to my dishonor.”

“To your dishonor!’ and the prince laughed scorn-
fully. “My good Kaulmann, who asked you to come
here and sell your honor? Ah, you cannot answer that !
Never mind, we shall keep our secret ; the world shall
know nothing. In society the head of the house of
Kaulmann shall be considered an honorable gentleman,
an excellent husband, a good family man. In the com-
mercial world he will be looked upon as a sound finan-
cier. Honors will crowd upon him; he will go far....
His real position will be known to only three people.
There, my good friend, don’t feign so much virtuous in-
dignation. You are overacting, which always spoils the
effect. I will take it all for granted. Time is short; it
will be better to make use of it.”

This was true. Every moment was precious. Felix
abandoned all attempts at outraged feelings of honor
and the like, and, composing his agitated features, held
out his hand to the prince. ‘The latter, however, did not
take it.

372 BLACK DIAMONDS

“ There’s no need to shake hands over our honorable
compact. ‘Take your note-book and write down the
conditions, and be sure you put the dates correctly. ‘To-
morrow, if I receive by one o’clock the card of invitation
to your entertainment, I shall remain away from the ex-
change. The next day I do the same; that is, if I re-
ceive defore one o'clock the official notification that your
civil marriage has taken place. On the fourth day, if
before one o'clock your solicitor brings me the news that
you have set off to Brussels to negotiate the papal loan,
and that he hands me the key of your house, with the
request that I will look after the business in your ab-
sence, then I shall go down to the exchange, and push
your affair as if it were my own. Now you may go, sir,
and indulge your outraged feelings in private.”

ak SE ax
s. > _*

CHAPTER XXXI

EVA DIRKMAL

Feiix KauLMANN felt that he had made good use of
his opportunity. All would now go well. The prince
would no longer avail himself of the Bondavara catas-
trophe to ruin him; on the contrary, his influence would
stem the panic which the news had, no doubt, already
caused in the Vienna money-market, and when the papal
loan was concluded all would be smooth, There was
Eveline, of course; but a man such as Kaulmann, whose
conscience had long since been as withered as was his
heart, soon found excuses for any ill-doing. No one
could blame him for the prince’s infatuation; it would
be only a fool who wouldn’t take advantage of it, es-
pecially one in his situation. A drowning man catches
at any plank; and as for Eveline, she owed him a debt
of gratitude. Had he not raised her from the very dust
of the coal-pit to her present situation, saved her from a
brutal husband like the savage Saffran, educated her,
made her a fit companion for a prince? Better women
than she would be glad of the elevation that was await-
ing her; and this reminded him that the Abbé Samuel’s
interview must have opened the matter, so he went in
search of him. The priest, however, was not to be
found at any of his usual haunts. Felix, therefore, re-
paired to Eveline’s hotel; neither was she athome. She
had gone to the theatre ; it was one of her acting nights,

374 BLACK DIAMONDS

Felix drove to the Opera-house. He went first to his
wife’s box, where there was no one but her companion.
He took a view of the house. In the pit there were
numerous c/aguers. In one of the front boxes he saw
Prince Waldemar. Then he went behind the scenes,
for he was known as the husband of the prima donna
and was allowed access to her dressing-room.

Eveline was dressed for her part and waiting to go
on. When she saw Kaulmann she turned away angrily.
Why did he disturb her when she was busy with her
calling ?

“ T have only come to wish you good-evening,” he said,

“You might have waited until to-morrow.”

“To wish you good-evening? Ha! ha!”

“No; but you know I am always so nervous before I
go a :

“T only wished to tell you that the cream of Parisian
society are fighting to get tickets for your concert.
Have you reserved one for me?” Felix was full of
amiability and admiration.

“T have reserved none.”

“Ah! And why not?” He said this in a soft, com-
plaining voice.

“ Because I have given up the concert. It shall not
take place.”

The face of her husband suddenly lengthened. “ Will
you kindly tell me the reason of this change ?”

Atter, I have come off. My scene has come. I
must go.” So saying, she left the room and went to
the wings. a

Felix followed to a point from which he could see
his wife on the stage and have a general view of the
house.

Eveline played badly and sang worse. Her voice

EVA DIRKMAL 378

trembled, she was out of tune, and her runs and roulades
were imperfect. She was evidently nervous. Never-
theless, she was applauded to the echo, the c/ague worked
hard; and Prince Waldemar, from his box, clapped as
if he had been paid for it. When she had finished her
last song a shower of bouquets and wreaths came from
the prince’s box and fell at her feet.

Eveline left them on the stage and hurried away to
her dressing-room. Kaulmann followed her.

“Why didn’t you pick up those lovely bouquets?” he
asked, carelessly.

“T felt I didn’t deserve any. I know I did badly to
night.”

“ But surely for the sake of the giver you should have
taken one of the bouquets.”

“ Ah, you would like that.”

“Ty i

“Yes. All those flowers came from you—at least, so
I have always understood.”

“Pardon me, ma chére. Didn’t you notice that they
all came from the side box? Didn’t you recognize who
was in that box ?”

“T never looked.”

“Tt was Prince Waldemar.”

“The man who is your enemy—who wants to ruin
you ?”

“Oh, that is notso! He has quite changed. He is
now our best friend,”

“Our friend? Whom do you include in ‘ our’?”

“You, as well as myself.”

“Thanks ; but I decline my share.”

“T am afraid you will find it difficult to stand aloof,
for I consider Prince Waldemar as my best friend, and
henceforth my house is open to him as to a brother.”

376 BLACK DIAMONDS

“ As you please. My house shall be shut in his face.”

“T am sorry, but your words oblige me to break a
disagreeable piece of news to you. But I see you are
busy; you don’t take any interest—”

“Go on talking,” returned Eveline, who was standing
before the looking-glass washing the paint off her face.
“T am listening.”

“For the future, I regret to say, you will not have a
house of your own. The affairs of your friend, Prince
Theobald, have been sequestrated ; his property is now
in the hands of trustees. I need not tell you, for I am
sure you have known all along, that the hotel you occupy,
together with all your expenses, has been paid for by
him. This, naturally, isatanend. In my circumstances
I could not afford to give you a separate establishment ;
we will, therefore, be obliged to live together, and it fol-
lows naturally that I shall expect my wife to receive as
her guests my friends, and to make them welcome.”

Eveline had laid aside her queenly robes; she now
took off her diadem, and as she slowly unfastened her
bracelets she turned and faced Felix.

“ And do you think,” she said, “that when I leave
my hotel I cannot get for myself a garret somewhere,
where there will be a door with a strong bolt, with which
I can bar the entrance of any unpleasant visitors ?”

Felix looked at her in amazement; he constrained
himself to take a more friendly tone.

“JT must call your attention to one fact. We are in
Paris, and the French marital law is strict. A wife
must dwell under her husband’s roof. She must go
where he goes. She must obey him.”

Eveline was now busy undoing the gold sandals which
bound her feet. She looked steadily at Kaulmann, with
her eyes glowing like lamps.

EVA DIRKMAL 377

’

“T must call your attention,” she said, “to one fact.
We are in Paris, and according to the French law those
persons who have been married before the altar, and
not before the civil authorities, are not considered legal-
ly married, and that, therefore, our marriage is null and
void.”

Kaulmann sprang to his feet as if he had been bitten
by a tarantula.

“What are you saying?” he cried, in a voice that was
almost a shriek.

Eveline had loosened the golden sandals. She stood
before Felix in her bare feet, and threw him the sandals.

“These belong to you. I am once more Eva Dirk-
mal. I belong to myself.”

“Who has told you this ?” stammered the banker, pale
with rage.

“The Abbé Samuel, who advised you to treat me in
the same manner.”

Kaulmann felt the room going round.

“And now,” continued Eveline, with a dignified mo-
tion of her hand, “I must remind you that this is the
dressing-room of a young girl.”

Felix did not wait to have his dismissal repeated; he
took his hat and went without another word. He ran
away, and he ran so fast that he took no heed where he
was going till he stumbled and fell.

All was over; he had played his last card and lost.
Everything was gone; there was nomore help. He had
two courses open to him: he might put a pistol to his
head, and so end the drama, or he might take all the
money in his counting-house and fly. He chose the
last,

CHAPTER XXXII

CRUSHED

EvELINE felt as if she had been given new life. She
was no longer married, and yet she was not a widow.
She had to shed no tears over happiness that had van-
ished, no regrets for domestic joys. Her heart was full
of newly awakened desires, hopes she hardly dared to
confess to herself, dreams that delighted while they
embarrassed her—a delicious riddle that she feared to
guess. Next day, however, when she heard that Kaul-
mann had absconded and would never return, she recog-
nized fully that her chains had fallen off.

When the caged bird has escaped into the open air of
heaven, does he ever regret his gilded cage and all its
luxurious comforts or the tender endearments of his
owner? The bird enjoys his freedom, and rejoices he is -
no longer a slave. It may be that wilder and stronger
birds tear him in pieces; that the frost and rain may
chill his body, unused to exposure. He cares not. He
wings his flight still higher; he seeks for a branch; he
cooes to his lady-love; he is happy.

Eveline never for one moment reflected that she was
in any way implicated in the fall of Kaulmann and the
shame that attended his ruin. She had no idea that her
name was bandied about. She who had been as a queen,
who had been so admired, had such a succes / What was
to become of her now? She belongs to no one, No

CRUSHED 379

one knows anything of her past; but it is pretty safe to
prophesy her future. She will have another protector.
Of course ; but who will he be? Which of her many ad-
mirers? Shehasa legion of adorers from which to choose.

This was the talk of the clubs and the gossip of soci-
ety. While Eveline sat in her room, rejoicing at her
new life of freedom, an idea suddenly came into her
head. She looked for Arpad’s visiting-card, ordered her
carriage, and drove out to visit the Belenyis. They
lived some little way from Paris, in the suburbs, where
houses can still be had with rooms on the ground floor.
Madame Belenyi liked to live on the ground floor. The
house she had lost was of this sort, and it had the ad-
vantage that, having her own kitchen, she could cook for
her son, and feel sure he was not dining at some tavern
in bad company. Unless on special occasions Arpad
invariably came home to dine with his mother ; he would
not have missed doing so for a splendid feast. He
thought there was nothing to compare with her dishes of
pig’s ear and delicately cooked vegetables.

Eveline’s coachman found it hard to make out the
narrow little street in the neighborhood of Montmartre,
where the Belenyis had established themselves. Eveline
would not let the carriage go farther than the corner;
there she got out, and, accompanied by her footman,
walked up the street, looking for the right house. It was
an old-fashioned cottage, in which Madame Belenyi had
hired two rooms divided by a kitchen. A girl who was
working in the garden showed Eveline where the young
gentleman lived. As Eveline pushed open the kitchen-
door very gently she noticed that the door of the inner
room opened suddenly and a woman looked out. This
was undoubtedly Arpad’s mother, who was curious to see
who had come to visit her son.

380 BLACK DIAMONDS

Eveline went on her toes to the door of the opposite
apartment, and noiselessly turned the handle; she
wanted to surprise Arpad.

His room was the picture of comfort and order. It
was easy to see how carefully it was kept by his mother.
The table, the walls, were crowded with handsome pict-
ures and ornaments, the gift of different persons—cups,
wood-carvings, antique weapons, classical paintings;
the windows were supplied with plants in bloom; there
were bookcases full of books. Everything was well
arranged ; there was taste and comfort, and Arpad liked
to be at home better than anywhere else. The hired
piano was from Erard’s manufactory, and was now open.
Arpad was sitting with his back to it, brush in hand; he
was painting. The pianoforte-player was also a painter.
Artists, many of them, indulge in these freaks. One of
our most distinguished portrait-painters loves to torture
his neighbors by scratching like a cat upon the strings
of a violin; so also a well-known musician spends his
time writing feeble verses; and a third, who is a real
poet, produces unsightly excrescences in marble and
terra-cotta.

What was Arpad painting?

Eveline stepped softly behind his back, but the rustle
of her silk dress betrayed her presence.

Arpad turned scarlet, shoved the picture into a
drawer, and, getting up quickly, confronted his visitor,
who had only time to see that it was a portrait he was
painting.

“Ah, it is you,” he stammered, in an embarrassed
voice. “I thought it was my mother.”

“Aha, you are doing something you should not!
Your mother does not allow you to paint; isn’t that it?
Well, it is a silly thing, I must say, for a pianoforte-

CRUSHED 381

player to spend his time painting; and what is the
subject ?”

“Oh, nothing—a flower!”

(“What a lie!” thought Eveline ; “it was a portrait.”)

“ Then if it is a flower, give it to me.”

“T should rather not.”

“ But if it is only a flower?”

“T am not going to give it to you.”

“Don’t be so cross. Won’t you ask me to sit down ?”

Arpad was really vexed. Why had she come to dis-
turb him just at this moment? Any other time she
would have been welcome. This beginning spoiled the
happy hour; for the picture was not Eveline’s portrait.

“Sit near me, else I shall think you are afraid of me.
I expected that you would have come to see me, to find
fault with me for my performance yesterday evening.
Tell me frankly—didn’t I sing badly ?”

“Very badly,” returned Arpad, discontentedly. “You
are going back instead of forward; and you seem to
forget all you learn. I was quite ashamed of you.
And your acting! I thought I was looking at an
automaton.”

“To tell you the truth, I was in a miserable state of
mind; I had several domestic troubles. I am separated
from Kaulmann.”

“That was no reason to sing false; he wasn’t worth
risking your engagement for, and playing in such a per-
functory manner—singing, too, all out of tune. You
never troubled yourself much about him.” (Arpad
knew nothing of what had happened to Kaulmann; the
news had not penetrated to Montmartre.) ‘“ And, at all
events, you should have had the discretion not to order
a shower of bouquets when you were doing so badly ;
it doesn’t look well.”

382 BLACK DIAMONDS

Eveline was very much wounded at this unjust ac-
cusation. She answered, almost crying:

“T beg to assure you I have never ordered bouquets
to be thrown to me.”

‘Well, it was one of your adorers, that crazy prince.
It is all the same thing. To be handsome, to sing
badly, and to receive wreaths, those are three sins rolled
into one. The world cannot distinguish between them.”

“Very well; go on finding fault, go on scolding, my
excellent old master. What else have I done that is
displeasing to you ?” ,

Arpad began to laugh, and held out his hand to
Eveline.

“Forgive me,” he said. ‘ My roughness is only the
grumble of the preceptor; it is over. Now we shall be
young again and chat. Shall I fetch the draught-
board? Shall we play for love or for nothing ?”

This tone warmed Eveline’s heart. She laughed, and
slapped Arpad’s hand, which he did not like.

“What are you going to do now you have got rid of
Kaulmann ?” he said. “Will you marry again? Is an-
other man ready for the yoke? Men are as plentiful as
blackberries. Or are you going to preserve the au-
tonomy of the actress ?”

Eveline cast down her eyes and grew suddenly grave.

“T have no one,” she said, sorrowfully.

“ Ah, that does not mean that there are not plenty
you can have if you like.”

“Tt means the same thing. I shall belong to no one.
I shall never take a husband who is above me in sta-
tion. Do you see, the girl who went barefoot in the
coal-mine must stay in her own class. If I could give
any one a place in my heart, it would be to one who
was as free and independent as I am, He should owe

CRUSHED 383

nothing to great people; he should depend absolutely
on his own genius; live absolutely by his own work.
He should be esteemed not for his money nor his rank,
but for his talent; he should glory in being an artist.”

This was a frank confession for any one who under-
stood. Arpad understood; he became more discon-
tented.

“H’m! Then I am afraid you are walking in a path
that leads you away from such a man as you describe.”

“What do you mean?”

Arpad got up from his chair. “ Artists have many
strange ideas ; these are inseparable from the artistic
temperament. Do you see that antique goblet there in
the centre of the table? It was a present to me from
Count Demidoff on the occasion of a concert. It was
an heirloom in his family. It is a wonderful ‘relic; a
classsical work. Princes, generals, rulers have drunk
out of it. I have a great respect for it, and I keep my
visitors’ cards in it. But I never drink out of it; I
prefer a common glass, for which I have paid fifteen
pence, but out of which no one has drunk but myself.”

Eveline flushed deeply at this cruel speech.

Arpad had, however, resolved to make the matter still
clearer.

“You say,” he went on, “ that you would like to find
an artist, a genius, a proud, independent man; him you
would choose for your husband! And you imagine that
a man of this type would submit to sit by your side as
you drove in the Champs Elysées, knowing that the
people driving behind in other carriages or walking
along the path were saying, ‘There is the curled and
scented Hyperion, but the steeds that draw him are not
paid for by Azs muse, they are the blood-horses of Prince
X—— ; and his wife is not content with the glory of Aés

384 BLACK DIAMONDS

name, she wears the diamonds provided by Marquis
G——.’ Do you think you will easily find such a hus
band ?”

Poor Eveline! She tried to defend herself against
this cruel boy.

“But I am ready to throw away all splendor—every-
thing that is not earned by my honest labor. I wish to
live by my art, to be what I am—an actress. I would
work night and day to perfect myself. I do not want any
other distinction but that of an artist.”

Arpad then told her what she had never heard until
now. Children and fools speak the truth, and in Arpad
there was a mixture of both; he was a child in years,
and a fool as regarded the claims of art.

“ My dear Eveline, you are not an artist; you will never
be an actress ; you are one of the step-daughters of the
muses, There are many such, to whom have been given
great capabilities; one only is wanting—courage. You
sing wonderfully well, you act with feeling, with humor
—at home, before three people ; but so soon as the lights
of the proscenium are lit your voice grows weak, you
sing false, you see and hear nothing, and you act like a
wooden doll. This is called stage-fright, and it is mever
cured, it has ruined more brilliant careers than the critics
have. You shake your head and appeal to your former
triumphs. Don’t deceive yourself; I know the machin-
ery of the stage well, and how artificial thunder and light-
ning are manufactured. At every performance you gain
a triumph ; you receive thunders of applause, mountains
of flowers. The morning after your performance your
breakfast-table is covered with newspapers teeming with —
laudatory criticisms. This is all gold-dust, and will
only last as long as some rich admirer pays the piper.
But try the experiment of closing your doors to your

CRUSHED 385

wealthy patrons, and step on the boards with no help
but your own talents; ask to be applauded for your own
sake. Then you will learn the price of the entertainment,
and that the critic’s praise is only to be bought.”

Eveline’s head sank. She knew that every word he
said was true. Arpad viewed the matter not so much
from the artistic side as from his youthful, ardent nature.
He was indignant against the fashions of the world; he
was indignant that Eveline should have lent herself to
these low intrigues, and so taken the place of better
artists, better musicians, better actresses; but in his
heart he was sorry for her. She had been kind to him ;
she had never offended him. Why was he so cruel to
her? It was due to the petulance of his boy’s nature.
Why had she disturbed him when he was happy at his
painting? Why had she asked him questions? What
was it to her whether it were a flower, and, if it were a
flower, why should she want it? And when he put out his
hand, why should she tap it in that intimate manner?
The picture was not painted for her.

“ What shall Ido? What am I fit for?” asked Eveline,
with a downcast air. Her beautiful eyes were full of
tears; she was crushed to the earth.

The young man considered a few minutes what he
should answer. As she had asked to drink the chalice
- she should do so to the dregs.

“You have two courses open to you, for I would not
advise you to take a third and return to your husband.
If I were a woman I would prefer to lie stretched out at
the morgue than be the joint possessor of that man’s ill-
gotten wealth. We therefore have only the two courses
to consider. Either you continue on the stage as before,
take the bought applause and the flowers paid for by
your noble patrons, or return from whence you came, and

a5

386 BLACK DIAMONDS

be content to shove wheelbarrows for the rest of your
life.”

Eveline rose from her seat, drew her wrap round
her shoulders, and, with a low, constrained voice, mur-
mured :

“Thank you.” Then she silently left the room.

Tears came into Arpad’s eyes. But why had she
come here? Why had she disturbed him when he was
happy painting? The moment she had closed the door
he returned to the table and took from the drawer Aés
Jiower, to see if it had sustained any injury. It was in
one sense a flower—a fair child with blue eyes!

The door opened again; the picture was hastily con-
cealed. No one, however, came in. Arpad’s mother
spoke through the half-opened door.

‘“‘Arpad, my son, who was that beautiful lady who
was here just now? A princess, was she not?”

“She was a poor woman who came to beg from me.”

“H’m! Surprising! What extraordinary beggars
there are in this city—beggars dressed in silk, with a
Persian shawl for a wrap. Did you give her anything,
Arpad ?”

“Mother, I had nothing to give her.”

“You have done well, my boy.’”’ And she shut the
door and went back to her own room to finish stitching
at her son’s shirt-collar.

CHAPTER XXXIII

CHARCOAL

EvELInE had resolved to make a great effort. She
recognized that there was truth in what Arpad had
said; only in one particular he was wrong: he had not
measured the gulf between “can” and “ must.”

She felt herself possessed by sudden energy; her res-
olution to succeed grew in proportion as her chance of
success was less. Many people have found strength in
the thought, “If I have no one to care for me, I, at
least, am master of myself.” She would carve her own
future ; she woud be an actress. She would show the
world what was in her. She would nerve herself to
courage before the footlights. The very circumstances
which had deprived her of all courage would now give
her strength; she would sing to the public as if she
were alone. The crowd should go for nothing, except
in being sharers in her triumph.

She spent a miserable night. The luxury which sur-
rounded her, the works of art which lay upon her tables,
in her cabinets, the costly vases, seemed silently to re-
proach her; the cups set with precious stones recalled
Arpad’s words. Better to be a glass of fifteen sous
than a goblet of silver!

At last sleep fell upon her tired eyelids, and in the
morning she awoke refreshed and full of fresh energy. '

This day the opera in which she had sung the day be-

388 BLACK DIAMONDS

fore yesterday was to be repeated. The rehearsal was
to take place in the morning. At this rehearsal, then,
she would show what she could do; she would look at
no one ; she would sing like a blind nightingale.

She ordered her carriage. When she reached the
theatre she told the servants to return for her in two
hours.

As she entered the vestibule the stage-manager came
to meet her, and told her that her part had been given
to another singer.

Eveline flew into a passion. Why had it been taken
away from her, and in such a manner, without asking
her permission? Such a want of proper deference tow-
ards her!

The man regretted the circumstance, but either could
not or would not offer any explanation. Would she like
to see the manager?

Eveline, in a very excited frame of mind, went to
look for him; but he was not in his office. His secre-
tary, however, handed her a letter, which the manager
had desired him to send to her address.

Eveline took the letter, and when she was in the hall
she broke the seal and read it. It was a dismissal,
immediate, discourteous, on the grounds that she was
quite unequal to fill the position of prima donna.

How she got out of the theatre and into the street
she did not know; she came to herself when she saw
the crowd of passers-by staring at her. She felt that it
was no wonder they looked at her. She was walking
like one who was dead; her body moved forward, but
her mind was lifeless. It was strange to feel one’s self
thus annihilated.

Then it was true; the cruel boy was right. The
clouds were golden only so long as the sun shone. All

CHARCOAL 389

her splendor had been on the outside. There was noth-
ing tangible; nothing came from herself. The whole
thing had been a fata morgana; it had now vanished
forever.

Eveline wandered, she didn’t know where. Suddenly
she found herself opposite her own house. She would
not have thought it strange if some one had told her at
the door of the hotel that no one of her name lived there,
that she had been dead and buried years ago. She
thought she was too stunned to feel either astonishment
or pain, but her composure soon gave way under a new
trial. |

She walked up-stairs, still in a dream, and through
her apartment until she reached her dressing-room.
When she entered it she saw, stretched in an arm-chair,
Prince Waldemar.

He was faultlessly attired, with a most elegant /our-
nure, carefully arranged hair, and fair whiskers, hanging
down on both sides in what were then called “cutlets”’;
his mustache was pointed and waxed.

Eveline called out, in a voice of fear, mixed with
anger :

“May I ask, sir, what you want here?”

“T was waiting to see you,” said the prince, with well-
bred nonchalance; but he never rose from the seat in
which he lounged so comfortably.

“Who gave you permission to enter my room ?”

“T asked for no permission.”

“ What right have you to intrude yourself here ?”

With a lazy air the prince put his hand into the pocket
of his coat and drew out a red paper like a bill; this he
handed to Eveline with a slight motion of his head,
which conveyed, “This is the cause of my presence
here,”

39° BLACK DIAMONDS

Eveline took the paper, which trembled in her hand.

“What is it? I do not understand it.”

“It is, however, very intelligible,” said the prince, at
last getting out of the chair. “The creditors of Kaul-
mann have seized your things, Kaulmann was careless
or thoughtless enough—I really cannot say which—to
announce that what belonged to his wife-was Ais, and
therefore his creditors have seized everything here, be-
lieving it is his. During your absence this morning
they got the law officers to break open your door and to
take possession. They affixed a notice outside, inviting
all passers-by to come in and inspect the things for sale.
In consequence of this invitation I am here. I came in
to look about me. You will observe that there are
government seals upon everything. I am here in the
right of purchaser.”

Eveline looked round, and saw that what he said was
true.

“ But, sir, it is impossible. Kaulmann knew perfectly
that nothing here was his property.”

“T am sure of that. It was gross negligence on your
lawyer’s side; he should have protected your interests
better. Every one knows that Kaulmann brought the
goods here; it was supposed that he bought them. In
any case, he cannot testify in your favor. A misfortune
has happened to him. When he saw that the police
were after him he jumped out of the railway-carriage he
was in. Unfortunately, he broke his neck and died
immediately.”

Eveline fell back upon the sofa and hid her face in
her hands.

“If you wish to shed a few tears to the memory of
Kaulmann I will retire to the window,” remarked Prince
Waldemar, with ironical courtesy,

CHARCOAL 391

Eveline made him no answer. In her mind every-
thing was in confusion; she could think of nothing.
Let everything go; what did it matter? Should she
institute a law-suit to recover her property? Should she
bring witnesses to prove that this ornament, these
costly hangings, these rich carpets were not the prop-
erty of her husband, but the gifts to her from a gray-
beard—the most upright, the dearest of men, a Hun-
garian magnate, who had adopted her, an actress, to be
his own child, with no self-seeking, no sinful gratifica-
tion, but out of pure affection? No one would credit
her story. She would tell it to no one. She would not
subject the name of her benefactor to the jeers and
laughter of the incredulous. Sooner let everything go.

“T am not weeping, sir,” she said to the prince. “If
you have anything further to tell me I am ready to
listen.”

“T could tell you many other unfortunate circum-
stances,” returned Waldemar, leaning against the fire-
place with the silver grate. ‘“ For one thing, Prince
Theobald, your former patron, has been placed by his
family under legal restraint, and cannot take any active
part in the affairs of this world.”

“T know that.”

“The shares which he took as a provision for you in
the Bondavara Company have been also sequestrated
by law.” |

“ That has been told to me already.”

“This loss, however, has a compensation: those
shares are now almost worthless. Since the colliery ex-
plosion, and the impossibility of extinguishing the fire in
the mine, they have fallen to nothing.”

“ That does not concern me.”

“] have not quite finished. The clergyman who was

392 BLACK DIAMONDS

your friend, whose dreams were of a bishop’s mitre, has
returned to his monastery.”

“T have known that some time.”

“You seem to have learned everything. Perhaps you
know also that your manager has cancelled your engage-
ment and given your part to another actress ?”

“Here is the letter,” answered Eveline, drawing a
crumpled paper from her pocket. And then she looked
at the prince with proud contempt. She was wondrous-
ly beautiful. ‘‘ Have you taken the trouble to come here
to tell me all this?” she asked, her eyes gleaming not
through tears but with indignation.

“T did not come here on that account,” answered the
prince, sitting down on the sofa and bending over her.
‘** T came to speak to you frankly. Do you not see that the
whole fabric upon which your golden dreams were built
has crumbled? The Bondavara mine is on fire; the”
shares are falling; the prime-minister is disgraced ; the
prince is under restraint ; your husband is dead; your
property will be sold by auction ; you are dismissed from
the theatre. The five acts of the drama are played out.
Let us applaud the finish, if we are so minded, and let us
begin again. I can give you back your shares. I can
get you a palace in the Maximilian Strasse. I can buy
back for you all your seized goods—your furniture, your
diamonds, your horses. I can arrange matters with the
manager of the theatre; you shall be reinstated as prima
donna on better terms than before. I can give you a far
greater position than you have ever enjoyed, and I can
offer you a truer, more self-sacrificing, more adoring
lover than you have possessed. His name is Waldemar
Sondersheim.” He bowed low before her.

Eveline looked with intense gravity at the top of his
boots.

CHARCOAL 393

Waldemar was now certain that he was master of the
situation. He took from his waistcoat-pocket a watch,
and pressed it into her hand.

“My sweetest love, my time is precious. I am ex-
pected at the stock-exchange. The Kaulmann specu-
lation has to be crushed. It is just twelve o’clock. I
give you one hour to think over what I have said and
to decide your own fate. I am content to wait until
then ; it is only one word I ask for—yes or no.”

Eveline gave him a yet shorter answer. She dashed
the timepiece which he had put into her hand with such
force on the floor that it flew into a hundred pieces.
That was her answer !

Prince Waldemar laughed, put his hand in his left-
hand waistcoat-pocket, took out another watch, and said,
dryly :

“T expected just such an answer, sod therefore I
brought with me another watch. I beg of you to break
this one also. I shall be only too happy to provide you
with a third.”

This time, however, Eveline did not take the time-
piece in her hand. She sprang to her feet, and, pointing
with her hand towards the door, cried out:

“ If you have bought my things, take everything away ;
but the apartment is still mine. Go/”

Prince Waldemar looked at her haughtily, although
he was still smiling.

“My dear lady, this is easily said ; but reflect a mo-
ment. What will become of you if you reject me? You
have no other expedient.”

“I have a shelter,” returned the girl, bitterly, “to
which I can turn, and that is charcoal.”

Prince Waldemar made her a low bow, and, without
uttering another word, took his hat and left her.

394 BLACK DIAMONDS

A woman who appeals to charcoal needs no man’s
friendship. In the metropolis of fashion many poor
wretches have found their last refuge there.

That evening Eveline paid a visit to her jeweller.
She brought him a pair of diamond ear-rings. They were
all she had; her ornaments had been seized by the law
officers. She sold these to the jeweller, and left the
purchase-money in his care,to be spent in a yearly sum
on her little brother’s grave in Pére la Chaise, to have
sods of green grass round it, and have fresh flowers
placed there on All-Souls’ Day. The jeweller promised,
for she had been a good customer. She told him she
was going to travel. Apparently it was a long journey,
for the next morning a bundle was found by the police
on the banks of the Seine. It was tied up in a cash-
mere shawl, which her maid recognized as belonging to
the lost actress.

Prince Waldemar offered a large reward to whoever
found the body. But it was never found, for the bundle
laid at the water-side was only a pretence; and while
every one was dragging the river, Eveline had kept her
word and sought refuge in the charcoal pit.

Prince Waldemar never heard of her again. He and
his household wore mourning in memory of her for six
weeks,

CHAPTER XXXIV

CSANTA’S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT

WE have now to go back to the Bondavara Company
before the crash came, and when the shares stood at
sixty over par, and looked as if they would go even
higher. But Csanta was satisfied to sellat sixty. There
could be too much of even a good thing. One should
not be too grasping, and sixty thousand gulden is a nice
profit in one year. He thought he would act as Spitz-
hase had often recommended, and sell out his shares in
small quantities until they were all gone. It would add
to the pleasure not to do it all at once.

For some time the quotations had been stationary.
He was accustomed to go every morning to the café
and read the exchange column, and had always seen the
same quotation—* Bondavara, sixty above par.”

On the morning of the day upon which Csanta had
arranged to send the first instalment of his shares to
Vienna he went to his café, and, while waiting to be
served, took up the first newspaper that came to hand.
As usual he commenced by reading it backwards, be-
ginning at the exchange column. The first thing that
caught his eye was, “ Bondavara, sixty de/ow par.”

A printer’s error; and a very serious one! The
printer was drunk when he printed it. The fellow ought
to be put in prison. If there is any police in Vienna,
or justice in the government, such a thing should not

396 BLACK DIAMONDS

pass unpunished; it is enough to shake the nerves of
any man not made of iron. If this is not a disturbance
of the peace, I don’t know what you can call it.

Then he took another paper. The same mistake!
He went through the round of the daily papers, and
found that all the printers must have chosen this day
for a drinking-bout, as each one made the same error
between above and below par.

Csanta was convinced that some great mistake had
been made; but as he could not rest until it was cleared
up, he telegraphed to Spitzhase.

A telegram from Spitzhase crossed his. It ran:

“Great misfortune. The Bondavara mine is on fire.
Great panic. The shares are sixty below par. Every
one is selling.”

Csanta cursed and swore with rage. “ The devil take
him! Sixty below par ; a loss of sixty thousand gulden!
That means for me extinction. Where is the cord and
the nail? Let me hang myself! Six casks full of silver
gone! I shall murder some one! I must go to Vienna.
I shall knock the whole place about their ears like a
card house if I don’t get back my silver. I didn’t take
my money to Vienna to leave it there.”

He foamed like a madman, dragged his bonds out of
his safe, threw them on the floor and stamped upon
them.

“Villains! knaves! paper beggars! It is you who
have eaten up my silver crowns! You have swallowed
my sixty thousand silver crowns! I will tear you in
pieces! I will cut my crowns out of your stomachs! I
will kill you dead !”

The upsetting of his safe had disturbed his papers.

CSANTA’S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT 397

He suddenly caught sight of a deed. He looked at it
closely. His mood changed.

“What a fool I have been. I don’t lose as much as
my finger-nail. Here is my young friend’s signature.
How lucky I didn’t destroy this, or light my pipe with
it. He binds himself a¢ any time, subject to my desire,
to take over a thousand shares a¢ far. Ah, well done,
Csanta! You are an old bird not easily caught with
chaff. I am saved, thanks to my own sagacity, to my
prudent, far-seeing nose that smells danger ahead.
This letter covers all loss. So far as I am concerned,
stones may fall from the sky. I am safe.”

He folded the shares tenderly, and locked them and
the precious letter safely up in his safe. He then sat
down and wrote to his dear young friend in Paris.
Fortunately he had the address. He asked him polite-
ly—seeing how the matter stood—to send at once some
accredited person to take over the bonds, according to
their previous agreement, and to arrange in what manner
the money should be paid. As for the outstanding in-
terest, some compromise or arrangement could be made.

A week passed, and no answer came; but, after all, it
is more than a cat’s jump from X—— to Paris.

During the week he received twice every day, morn-
ing and evening, a telegram from Spitzhase pressing
him to part with his shares, for every day they were fall-
ing ten per cent. lower. At the end of the week they
had gone down still more. The bears had won the day.

Csanta never moved a finger. He hugged himself in
his own safety ; and as for the others, their shares might
go to the bottom of the sea for all he cared. He had
no shares. They were all Kaulmann’s. “Take them
away, and give me back my silver!” This was his cry.
“Rogue! villain! I have you by the neck!”

398 BLACK DIAMONDS

The accounts that he read of the sudden collapse of the
company and the ruin of the shareholders did not in the
least disturb him. The losses of others could not affect
him. On the ninth day, however, he began to tremble.
The morning’s paper contained an account, telegraphed
from Paris, of the flight of the banker, Felix Kaulmann,
leaving his affairs in the uttermost confusion. This was
succeeded by a second telegram, announcing that the
banker, Kaulmann, seeing that the officers of police
were on his track, had thrown himself from the win-
dow of the railway-carriage, and had been killed instan-
taneously.

Csanta narrowly missed an apoplectic stroke. When
he came to he telegraphed to Spitzhase to sell all his
shares for what they would fetch,

Spitzhase answered by return:

“Too late; they are quoted at seventy, but this is only
nominal. There are neither buyers nor sellers. The
mine is gone; the railway is gone; everything is gone.
Why didn’t you part with them a week ago, when I ad-
vised you? Now you can put your shares in the fire, and
cook chestnuts at the blaze.”

* All is over with me!” sobbed Csanta. “Let me
get home ; let me lie down and die! I cannot live! I
shall not be alive in three days !”

He took leave of his acquaintances; he had no
friends. He told them they need not be afraid, he
would do himself no injury. He was simply dying of
grief, just as a man might die of sickness.

All gone!

Some compassionate souls had pity on the old man
and took him home. If he had been alone he had

CSANTA’S LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT 399

never found his own house. Once arrived there, he
insisted on going down to his cellar, to see with his own
eyes if it were not some hideous dream, from which he
would wake and find his beloved casks in their old
places. When he saw all were gone, he set up a fearful
cry, “ Fool! fool! fool!” and fell forward on his face.

They carried him up-stairs, tenderly undressed him as
if he were a child, and put him to bed. He shrieked
for a priest, so they fetched him one. He made his
confession, and received the sacrament.

His lawyer then appeared on the scene, and his last
will was written out and duly signed. He had still
something to leave. There were his houses, the whole
street front; the church into which no one came, on
whose threshold between the stones the grass grew
thick, in whose court-yard the school-boys played ball
on Thursday half-holidays.

The church, notwithstanding, was endowed with a
priest, a verger, and a bell-ringer. The priest should say
mass, the bell-ringer should ring the bell, the verger
should open the door every day; just as a hundred years
ago, when through the open church doors a stream of
men passed, with silver buttons on their jackets, and
women with long silk veils. The old man now dying is
the last descendant left on this earth of the old Greek
traders. The church shall remain standing in memory
of them.

The house next door to his own he bequeathed to the
widow, who was the daughter of the last Greek. This
woman and he had quarrelled long ago. God alone
can decide the justice of a quarrel that has to do with
paper money, which to-day is worth a great deal and
to-morrow not a penny. Therefore, he bequeathed to
her and her son the heap of cursed, worthless papers

400 BLACK DIAMONDS

called shares in the Bondavara Company, which have
caused his unexpected death. They shall have these
papers, whether for good or ill.

After he had made these depositions and arranged
his affairs his will was sealed and inscribed by him-
self. He divided among his neighbors and servants his
few remaining possessions. He called the bell-ringer,
and enjoined him to toll the bell three times every two
hours, and if any one asked the reason why, he should
answer, “ The Greek, Csanta, is dead.” Then he sent
every one out of the room.

When next morning they returned he was dead. He
had died of grief, just as an aged husband will not sur-
vive the loss of his wife with whom he had grown old.
So a man with a strong will dies when he has said that
he can no longer support life.

CHAPTER XXXV

THE GROUND BURNS UNDER HIS FEET

PETER SAFFRAN’S Curse seemed likely to be fulfilled :
“Upon this field no grass shall grow for evermore.”

It was true the green grass grew still upon the field,
but who could tell what was seething underneath, in the
bosom of the earth?

The directors of the company’s mine believed that
when they closed all the entrances and openings to the
shafts and vaults, they had given, by so doing, a check
to the conflagration; by preventing the current of the
outer air from getting in, they felt sure the fire must in
a short time be extinguished.

On the other hand, there was the irremediable evil
that the supply of coal gradually diminished ; even the
necessary material for keeping the forge heated was
wanting. They tried to heat it with wood—there were
plenty of trees in the forest—but without coal the heat-
er would not work, and much iron was lost in conse-
quence. Instead of iron bars, a great quantity of “ ram-
mers” lay scattered about. It was soon patent that,
from all these causes combined, the company were not
in a condition to fulfil their contract for supplying the
railway contractors with iron rails. The guarantee was
in danger, as was also that of the railway company, in
case the railway could not be opened for traffic at the

time promised in their agreement.
26

402 BLACK DiAMONDS

The Bondavara Mine Company and Railway Company
were, so to speak, glued to one another ; one could hardly
take a step without dragging the other down the danger-
ous path on which both were going headlong to ruin.

Being in such evil straits, the directors began to look
for help to the other mine. Coal they must have. In
Ivan Behrend’s colliery there must be a large supply.
For a whole year he had sold none. They must buy
from him, even at an advanced price.

Rauné also bethought himself of begging for coal from
the same source. Surely no one could refuse to oblige
an old friend and neighbor.

His letter, however, came back to him with the seal
unbroken. At this moment Rauné was terribly hard
pressed. He resolved to wait upon Ivan, and make his
request in person.

His visit was a short one. He was in all less than two
seconds in Ivan’s room, from which the first thing that
issued was his hat, which he followed promptly. After
this Ivan’s voice was heard.

“T hold no conversation with spies.”

Rauné wrote the directors a long letter, in which he
said that Behrend was a boorish, selfish man, who was
determined to profit by the misfortune which had hap-
pened to the Bondavara mine, and would not give his
coal at any price; instead of selling, he was using it in
the manufacture of a quantity of iron rails, and speculat-
ing on the chance that the company would be forced to
buy at any sum he chose to ask.

The result of his letter was very different from what
he had looked for. The railway directors wrote at once
to Ivan, and made him an advantageous offer for his iron
rails; and if he had asked fifty per cent. more they were
prepared to accede to his demand. ;

THE GROUND BURNS UNDER HIS FEET 403

The profit for Ivan’s faithful workmen was a very full
harvest. The deserters to the enemies’ camp now im-
plored to be taken on again; they had no work. But
they were not received by their former comrades ; a com-
mittee of the men decided, without a dissentient voice,
against taking on one of the deserters, but took on a total
stranger. This decision settled the matter, and Ivan
was forced to acknowledge it was just. —The new member
was bound to work for a year as a common laborer, and
the committee were not to decide whether he should be
admitted to the rights of the existing colony, and entitled
to his share of the profit; this should be put to the vote.

Meantime the work was splendidly done. Each man
looked upon the mine as his own property; there were
few blunders, and the success was remarkable; neither
labor nor time was spared. Order was preserved, disci-
pline maintained, and there was no necessity for harsh
measures, nor for overseers.

Under all this fine weather, however, there lurked
clouds. In the far distance storms were gathering, evi-
dent to an experienced eye.

Ivan noted the coming danger, but he did not let it
escape his lips. It could not be averted. His mine was
threatened ; the fire that was consuming the neighboring
colliery might spread to his. This thought filled his
mind by day and by night. From the situation of the
coal-stratum he could draw the conclusion that the con-
flagration must spread to Bondathal. It might take
years, but in the end the Bondathal mine would share
the same fate as its neighbor of Bondavara, and be re-
duced to ashes.

The earth has buried many such wrecks in its bosom.
But not alone below, but on the earth itself this Bonda-
vara misfortune had ruined a multitude of people,

404 BLACK DIAMONDS

In the beginning the board of directors, who adminis-
tered the affairs of the shareholders, hit upon the idea
that with the ready money at their command they would
buy up all the shares in the market, and in this way serve
a double purpose. In the first place, they would secure
for themselves the shares which had been issued at par
at a price far below par, and in the next they would
check any further fall.

The board, however, by this manceuvre only effected
a more rapid smash; the money in the treasury dwin-
dled away until at last for the necessary expenses there
was nothing left.

Prince Waldemar knew how to make use of the daily
papers. He was always ready, and the shares having,
through him, fallen thirty per cent. lower, he was re-
solved to send them still further down. The time was
at hand when they would stand at z/, and then the
owner of these miserable shares would be glad to offer one
per cent. to any one who would take them off his hands.

It was a wicked game to play. Thousands were made
beggars. The poorer people suffered most—those who
a short year ago came with their little savings in their
hands, crying to take shares. Poor souls! the high in-
terest had tempted them totheir ruin. Ah, it is an old
story this, that repeats itself with periodic fidelity ; the
clerk, the old man, the widow, the old maid, the govern-
ess or teacher—these are the victims of this cruel Jug-
gernaut. The cashier who has gambled with his master’s
money fills in the picture. But there are not wanting
others who suffer, but are not reduced altogether to
want. Solid tradesmen are crippled, people who drove
their carriages have to walk, lovers whose wedding-day
was fixed have to wait, and sometimes pine away in
single blessedness. Woe! woe! on every side.

THE GROUND BURNS UNDER HIS FEET 405

But the Bondavara catastrophe had ruined not alone
poor and well-to-do people ; it had dragged down in its
fall the high and powerful family of Bondavary, one of
the most ancient in Hungary. The Marquis Salista had
learned a severe lesson; he found that you cannot take
away the centrepiece of a building without endangering
the whole edifice. The sequestration of the prince’s
property had drawn the whole body of creditors upon
him. And so it came to pass that the large property of
a great nobleman, a reigning prince, fell under the ad-
ministration of his creditors; the heirs had really burned
the ground under their own feet.

If the stewards and agents in the prince’s time had
been thieves, the administration of the property by the
creditors was the very realization of plunder on all sides.

The result was disastrous so far as the Countess Theu-
delinde was in question; there was no one responsible, ©
so it appeared, for her forty thousand pounds. All the
family charges and mortgages came first on the list of
payments. Let her grasp hers—if she could.

The one who suffered most was the Countess Angela.
Her husband, Marquis Salista, had from the first lived
in the extravagant manner befitting a man who has come
into a fortune of twenty millions. It was impossible to
induce him to change his ideas, ‘This led to sharp con-
flicts between the married pair.

On the other side, Angela showed him plainly that she
had married him not from liking, but out of pique.

The marquis knew it—and so did Ivan; but he had
something else to think of. The ground was burning
under Ais feet.

CHAPTER XXXVI

CHILD’S PLAY

THE concert season was in full swing when the Be-
ienyis received the news that Csanta was dead and had
bequeathed to them their former house. If Arpad had
been engaged to play a quartet with Beethoven, Mozart,
and Haydn he would have thrown up his engagement
and flown back with railway speed to his old home.
His mother was just as eager to be goneas he was. Not
a day did they stay; they were off the very same evening.

On their arrival at X——— the magistrate unlocked
the door of their old home and gave Madame Belenyi
possession. Everything was exactly as they had left it,
only the dust of years covered all the pretty things.

Arpad’s first thought was to run down to the garden.
The magistrate, however, detained him. He had an-
other legacy to make over to him, a large iron case
fastened with three iron locks. It contained the Bonda-
vara shares.

“The devil take his shares!” cried Arpad, laughing.
“Unluckily it is summer, so we don’t want to make a
fire.”

“They are down to nothing,” said the magistrate.
“They are quoted to-day at ten guldens. They killed
poor Csanta.”

They had to take the shares all the same. You must
not look a gift-horse in the mouth.

CHILD’s PLAY 407

Arpad slipped out of the room and ran down to the
garden. The fruit-trees were untouched, and all in full
bloom. The cherry-tree was one mass of rosy blossom.
He remembered well how he daren’t touch a blossom
under pain of a good whipping. And the forget-me-nots
on the bank of the stream, which flowed past the end of
the garden, and the May bells were ringing in a chorus,
to which no one listened.

Everything was just as it had been, only grown. The
trees had such long branches that they were entangled
with those on the opposite shore.

He laid himself down in the green grass, all dotted
over with yellow cowslips. No one could beat him now.
He might waste his time and drink his fill of lazy enjoy-
ment. Fame, the chatter of the newspapers over his
sudden disappearance, the ladies who would regret him
—what were they all in comparison with this? In a
hiding-place on the river-bank he sought for the little
flute he had secretly made in those old days. To his
great joy it was there, just as he had left it.

Arpad took from his pocket a newspaper full of his
Parisian triumphs, an announcement of his next appear-
ance. Where is Paris now? Out of the sheet he made
a large boat with sails, that it might take a cargo on
board. He pulled a bunch of the cherry blossom; he
set the tiny vessel on the water, and while it danced
over the little bubbles in the stream he laid down again
among the forget-me-nots and played upon his flute the
national air, “ Repiilj fecském.”

At the sound of the flute another child appeared. She
came from the house opposite: a young girl about fif-
teen. She had a round, fair, laughing face and beauti-

ful blue eyes. Timidly, like a frightened fawn, she
_ made a few steps, then stopped and listened. By-and-

408 BLACK DIAMONDS

by she drew nearer, then stood still again. She did not
see the flute- player; she noticed nothing but his flute
and his boat with the cherry blossoms.

The girl had come quite close to the bank without
Arpad having seen her approach. He was made aware
of her presence by hearing her laugh. The laugh of a
child is as clear as a bell. Arpad looked up, surprised.

“Ah, is that you, Sophie? How pretty you have
grown! I beg you will send me back my boat.”

Sophie did not want to be asked twice. She held up
her frock with one hand, tucked it between her knees,
and after she had replaced the red cherry blossoms by
some white flowers, she gave the little boat such a hearty
shove that it came back to the opposite side. Then the
game began again. It was so amusing!

Madame Belenyi saw the pair from the window. She
didn’t disturb them, but let them amuse themselves un-
til the sun went down and the air began to get chill.
Then the most prudent of the two children—it was the
girl, no doubt — suggested to the other that the grass
was wet with dew, and that it would be well to go back
to the house.

Arpad took his boat out of the water, and put it and
the flute back in their hiding - place, and returned to his
mother.

Madame Belenyi did not scold him. She did not,
however, kiss him on his forehead, as she was wont to
do. She showed him all she had done to settle the
house while he had been amusing himself in the garden.

Arpad was very much pleased to find it so comfortable.

“ Mother,” he said, “ we will live here always.”

“T don’t object to our living here, Arpad; only there
is one condition. You must marry a good girl, and ~
bring her here to help me.”

CHILD’S PLAY 409

*“T, mother?” returned Arpad, half pleased and yet
astonished.

“Yes, you. Whynot? Youvare a youngman. I can-
not look after you always.” |

Arpad laughed again. ‘So, because I have grown a
young man, and that you cannot keep me any longer at
your apron-string, I must take a wife who will keep me
in better order than you can. Is that it, mother ?”

“My son, it is in the natural order,” returned Madame
Belenyi, gravely, and as if there were no other course for
a young man but to have either a mother or a wife to
look after him. It did not enter into her imagination
that he could look after himself.

“Sooner or later I shall obey your wishes; but just
now, as we have got a house, I shall have enough to do
to provide the house-keeping, and I could not take a
wife with me here and there when I have to fulfil my
professional engagements. For this sort of Bohemian
life, vagabondizing from Paris to London, Petersburg
to Vienna, is a bad thing for a woman, whether she goes
with her husband or is left behind.”

“But we have something to live on, Arpad. I have
been very lucky with your earnings, and there is a nice
nest-egg in the bank. Besides, there are the shares.
Don’t laugh, you silly boy! Although they are only
worth ten gulden, yet there are a thousand of them. If
we realize them, that would be ten thousand gulden. In
a small town like this that sum would be a fortune, and
with it you need not scruple to take a wife.”

“Mamma, you don’t understand about these shares.
One could easily be realized, but if the next day I were
to go to the same place with another for sale they would
kick me out. Any one who would offer a thousand Bon-
davara shares in the money-market would be sent to the

410 BLACK DIAMONDS

mad-house. Put the shares away with those other im-
portant papers Csanta gave you, and, if you like, treas-
ure the hope that one day they may be worth as much
as the paper they are printed on.”

“Well, stranger things have happened. Did you ever
think we would come back to this house? I am very
sorry I did not keep the other papers. I burned them.
Who knows what luck we may have with those bonds?
If, one day, they rise again to par, we shall realize twice
two hundred thousand gulden—”

“TI don’t count on such strokes of luck as that, mam-
ma. The worst compliment Providence can pay a man
is to let him win in a lottery. It is just as if God said to
him, ‘You ass! I cannot keep you in any other man-
ner.. God would not allow a man who has any intellect
to win in a lottery. To such a one he would say, ‘ Wilt
thou cease to beg alms of Me in such a shameless man-
ner? Is it not sufficient that I have endowed thee with
talent?) My consolation prizes are reserved for the
dunderheads.’”” Then he added, “ Mother, don’t be
afraid, we shall live from my art. Wait a little and you
shall see; only give me time. Meantime I shall buy for
the little girl a doll with a china head as a plaything.
You must take care of me for a little longer.”

At these words the widow embraced her boy tenderly.
She was happy; but that evening Arpad, when it was
moonlight, went out and sat under the weeping-willow
and played a melancholy air on his flute. Sometimes
he stopped to listen to a soft silvery voice singing a na-
tional air on the other side of the stream. The singer,
however, when she heard the flute no more, knew that
he was listening, and stopped her song. It is so sweet
to be young!

CHAPTER XXXVII

EUREKA

Ivan’s fears as to the safety of his own colliery were
growing day by day. One morning he found that the
amount of hydrogen was scarcely perceptible; still there
was water in the pit. This discovery made him thought-
ful; he could not understand it. He descended into
the cavern where the pond was. Not one drop of
water!

Ivan remained for three hours, watching anxiously to
see would the water rise ; but none came.

At the end of three hours he was relieved by the men,
and it was then arranged that during the night they
would take turns in watching the tank. As soon as the
water began to rise they were to call him. Ivan went
home, lay down, and fell into a deep sleep, from which
he did not awake until the sun was high in the heavens.
He wondered that no one had called him, as had been
agreed.

It might be that the men had also been overcome by
sleep. Poor wretches, they also were exhausted. He
hastened to the pit. The men told him they had
watched all night, but there had been no sign of water
in the tank. He waited patiently for twenty-four hours,
Not a sign of water!

Ivan thought he could explain the absence of the
water by the theory of the periodic springs—a theory

412 BLACK DIAMONDS

too complicated to enter upon here. It is sufficient to
say that the water-supply of the mine was worked by
the pressure of the air upon these springs. If the water
did not now return, it would be attributable to one of
two causes: either the pipe which conducted the water
from the larger basin had suddenly closed, and was no
longer subject to atmospherical pressure, on which it
depended to keep open; or some split or crevice had
come in the stone masonry which protected the basins,
and the force of the air had driven the water down
farther into the bowels of the earth, where, no doubt,
another basin was ready for its reception. We will re-
member that from the first Ivan had the idea that some
such reservoir existed. But where?—that was the
problem; and if the reservoirs were not found, what
then?

The cavern where Ivan stood was empty. The black
portals which guarded the subterranean kingdom of
death stood open tohim. He could enter the labyrinth;
he could discover what he had long sought, the com-
munication between the upper and the lower water
basins. One difficulty lay in his way. He should take
a workman with him. He called the old miner, Paul.

“ Paul, how old are you?”

“ Sixty-nine.”

“You would like, no doubt, to complete your seven-
tieth year.”

“T should like to see the gold wedding of this pit.
Next year it will be just fifty years since it was opened.”

“ And if you die before then?”

**T should say, ‘The name of the Lord be blessed.’ ”

“ Are your sons grown to man’s estate?”

“‘ My grandson is able to keep himself.”

“Would you be ready to accompany me on a dangerous

EUREKA 413

expedition—one where the chances are we might never
return ?”

“T think I have run that chance before now.”

“You must understand, Paul, the whole risk before
you agree. We are going to look for the water that
has left the tank. It is a matter of life and death to
every one of us, and, therefore, I think God will help us’;
but it may not be so. The Almighty may say, ‘Why
should you mere worms of the earth dare to interfere
between me and the sentence I have passed against you
and yours? I did not listen to the entreaties of Lot,
and now the Dead Sea covers the ruins of the city.
You men of Bondathal are not better than the men of
Gomorrah.’ Do you understand me? I have often
sought for the source of the spring through the narrow
winding paths of this cavern. These windings are so
narrow that one must sometimes press through them by
mere force, at other times creep along upon one’s
stomach. Great abysses yawn under the feet; a fall
down one of these would be fatal; we will have to cling
to the wall as we creep along. Again, we will pass
through stinking sewers, up to our elbows in putrid filth.
All these clefts and fissures have been made some time—
God knows when—by an earthquake which has caused
the uprooting of the coal stratum. Now it is quite
possible that this last explosion has closed again many
of these clefts and opened others, If it has happened,
as I surmise, that the aperture has been shut which
communicated between the pit beneath us and the one
above—if this has taken place, then we have a tank full
of water over our heads. If we, in our search through
the bowels of the earth, come upon this aperture, and
accidentally break the smallest hole, not the size of a
pin’s point, the water in the basin over our heads will

414 BLACK DIAMONDS

burst through and annihilate us; if we hear it roaring
we are already lost. But, on the other hand, it may be
that the explosion caused a rent in the upper cleft, and
if so the water has rushed through it to the lower basin
under our feet. What we have to do, whether we die
in the search or not, is to find out where the water is.”

“T have no idea what you mean; all I know is that I
am ready to go with you.”

“Then go home and take leave of your family, as if
you were going a long journey. Go to your priest and
make your peace with God. Then come back, and tell
no one where we are going.”

Ivan now made his own preparations. From this ad-
venture he might never return. He made his will. He
bequeathed his mine to his workmen, his money to
Paul’s family. This was an act of justice. If the old
man were killed, it was in a measure his, Ivan’s, doing.

When this was all done he went out and took his
leave of light and air before going into the blackness of
everlasting night. It was well under the free air of
heaven. The sky might be bluer elsewhere, the grass
greener ; still, it was not eternal darkness,

The post brought him a letter. It was from Arpad
Belenyi. It told him all that we already know—the fall
of Kaulmann, the disappearance of Eveline, whom every
one thought had drowned herself. Ivan’s heart was
stirred by deep sorrow. The sky lost its brightness ;
the meadow was no longer green ; the blackness of the
pit would be welcome to him. This news acted upon
him as a tonic; he felt braced; his fears vanished.
Life was now more worthless than before.

He set about the necessary preparations with calm-
ness. He collected the instruments which would be
needed for this strange search—the levelling instru-

EUREKA 415

ment, the circumferentor, the plumb-line. He put them
in a bag, which he tied round his neck. Paul carried
the pick, the iron rod, and a strong cord.

With this equipment they descended into the cavern,
and vanished through the windings of the water-course.
After six hours they reappeared. This went on day
after day.

Ivan took the measurements of all the windings of
the labyrinth, and when he was at home compared them
carefully. It took him hours. At night he retired into
his laboratory, heated deadly gases in his retorts, and
forced the mysterious elements to surrender their long-
concealed secrets. He fought with demons who refused
to obey him.

“Which of you is the spirit that can extinguish fire?
Appear! appear! Not with Alpha and Omega, not
with Solomon’s Seal, not in the name of Abraxas and
Mithras do I conjure you, but by the force of all-power-
ful science I order you appear !”

But no spirit appeared.

This double battle, the one under the earth, the one
in the air above it, this fight with the two great demons
of the world’s creation, went on day by day, in daylight
and darkness. Ivan had no rest.

One morning he was told that the water in the castle
well was hot, and it had a decided taste of sulphur. He
began now to despair. The subterranean conflagration
was closing round him sooner than he had looked for
it. The situation was lost; one year, and the whole
place would be consumed.

Rauné, when this fact became known, threw up his
appointment and openly took service with Prince Walde-
mar. He was commissioned by his employer to write
—as an authentic witness—the accounts of the catas-

416 BLACK DIAMONDS

trophe, which appeared constantly in the Vienna pa-
pers.

Ivan threw himself with the energy of despair into
the search; he penetrated farther into the subterranean
labyrinth. Paul was like a ghost; his very soul was
steeped in terror, but he held bravely to his master.

One day, amidst the confusion of the different wind-
ing passages in the rock, they came to a place out of which
there seemed to be no exit. They struck the wall. It
returned a hollow sound, so that they drew the conclu-
sion that on the other side there was a large cavern, or
space of some sort. The tumbled masses of slate-
stratum fallen over one another was a proof that the
blockade had been recently made.

“We must clear a passage here,” said Ivan, taking
the pick in his hand.

Paul cowered down, clinging to the wall. He trem-
bled at every blow of the pick given by the vigorous
arm of Ivan, who worked with terrible earnestness. So
might a despairing soul beat against the gates of hell
and summon the devil to single combat.

At last the pick made a small hole, through which
Ivan passed the iron rod, and raised a whole mass of
slates.

“Now, if the water is overhead the crack of doom
has come.”

The old man crossed himself, and recommended his
soul to God.

Ivan, however, shouted with all the joy of a dis-
coverer: “Do you hear? The rubbish as it falls
makes a splash. The lower basin I am in search of és
here, underneath us!”

But what if the one above is full? They had still to
wait while they counted a hundred beats of the pulse.

EUREKA 417

Never was a pulse felt under such terrible circum
stances, not even when Ivan had gone down into the
burning mine. Not a sound was heard. In the bosom
of the earth all is quiet. Ivan was trembling with joy-
ful excitement.

“Found at last!” he cried. “Now bind the cord
round me, and lower me into the well cavern.”

It was done. The old miner, as he held the rope,
prayed fervently to the Blessed Mother that she would
forgive this heretic, who did not know what he was do-
ing. Meantime the lamp sank deeper and deeper.

Suddenly Ivan cried out, “ Pull me up!”

His old comrade drew him slowly out of the depths
of the earth. As he held out his hand to help him,
Ivan suddenly threw his arms round him and embraced
him.

“We have reached our goal,” he said. “The plumb-
line shows a monstrous depth of water.”

Paul’s brain began to clear. For the first time he had
a dim idea of the aims of their labors.

“ Now let us get into daylight.”

As soon as Ivan got out of the pit he ran home as
fast as he could. He compared his measurements, and
was well content with the result. At night he shut him-
self in his laboratory. He was flushed with triumph ;
another victory would be his. He would also conquer
the demon that had hitherto resisted his will. He had
the proud feeling of a victorious general who demands
the last stronghold to surrender.

“T have already conquered,” he said. “You are the
next to submit. God sometimes lends to his creature
immortal gifts, moments of creative power, when the in-
finite takes, as it were, shape, and the finite cries to the
infinite, ‘ Eureka !’”

27

418 BLACK DIAMONDS

Ivan poured out ten drops of the water he had
brought from the well. ‘There was not more than would
be held in the point of a pen. The laboratory became
suddenly dark. The strong heat of the burning coal in
the oven went out as if by magic. All was dark; black
as night. This darkness was the light for which Ivan
had been seeking. |

“T have found it!” he cried aloud. “I have found

it!” he cried to his workmen, among whom he rushed,
half undressed, with his hat off, like a lunatic.
_ They did not know what he had found, but they felt
certain the discovery which was considered so impor-
tant by their guide and master must be a matter of re-
joicing, in proof of which the miners cheered lustily.

CHAPTER XXXVIII

AT PAR

Tue devil’s comedy was being played daily on the
stock-exchange. The Bondavara Company’s shares, the
Bondavara Railway shares were tossed here and there,
from one hand to another. The tragedy had turned to
comedy—that is, for some people, who found the game
very humorous. The very word Bondavara made the
stockbrokers laugh. When it happened that some fool
bought a share, noone could help laughing. The shares,
in fact, were given in exchange for anything of little
value —for instance, as make-weight with an old um-
brella for a new one. They were also presented to
charitable institutions.

One witty man went to a fancy ball in a coat made of
the shares. This conceit was thought diverting. The ex-
change, however, was still the field where a desultory
fight was kept up by the shareholders. These poor
wretches fought for the last flicker of the lamp, which
the bears wanted to extinguish altogether.

Prince Waldemar, the leader of the conspiracy, forced
the shares day by day lower and lower. At last they fell
to one and ahalf per cent., then to one and a quarter, and
this quarter was to go lower, the prince wanting to banish
the shares from the quetation list. The owners were
making a fight to prevent this—an ineffectual one, it
seemed to be. They were almost agreed to give up the

420 BLACK’ DIAMONDS

fight as a forlorn hope. How could they make head
against such odds? The day upon which Rauné’s re-
port was in the newspapers they resolved to lay down
their arms; there seemed no good in protracting the
struggle. The report in question was the one which
stated what was the nature of the elements that, since
the fire in the Bondavara mine, had been found mixed
with the water on the lake of the castle; this caused a
great “‘sensation,” and was the last straw upon the back
of the unfortunate shareholders.

Prince Waldemar had the news proclaimed on ’change
that on the last day of the month he would sell his Bon-
davara Company shares at ten florins. Some people took
up the gauntlet he had thrown down. These were share-
holders who knew that they would lose by taking this
wager, but at the same time hoped by this stroke of pol-
icy to prevent the shares from disappearing altogether
from the share list. If, therefore, at the end of the
month the shares went down to six gulden, they must
pay the other side twenty thousand gulden difference ; if
the shares went up, the other side must do the same.

About noon a broker came to the bank, and said, loud
enough for all bystanders to hear, that a gentleman was
present who would take five hundred Bondavara shares
at par.

If some one had struck a hammer upon the open keys
of a piano no greater whir and whiz could have been
heard than now ran through the hall. Screams of laugh-
ter, exclamations of astonishment, howls of joy, curses,
and ejaculations of incredulity were raised in every cor-
ner. Who is he? Is he a lunatic? At par! Bonda-
vara shares! Where is the mn?

The broker pointed him out. He was evidently a
provincial gentleman, very unassuming in his appearance.

AT PAR 421

He was leaning against a pillar, calmly surveying the
Olympian games.

“ He is evidently a silly knave who wants to have a
joke,” scoffed Prince Waldemar. “Go to him,” he went
on to the agent, “and ask him for his name. We must
know what is the name of any one who treats with us.”

The broker returned in a few minutes with the news
that the gentleman gave his name as a Hundred Thou-
sand Gulden, saying that money was the best surname.
He showed his hands full of bank-notes, which he re-
ceived from the stranger.

“Who sells five hundred Bondavara shares at par?”

This cry caused a revolution on’change. Tranquillity
was at an end; tumult took its place; uproar and con-
fusion reigned. Credulous and incredulous people sur-
rounded the stranger; they pressed upon him, over-
whelming him with questions, stretching over one another
to thrust their note-books into his hands. The unknown
met all this noise with cool indifference, merely pointing
out to his broker the crowd who were ready to do busi-
ness with him.

Prince Waldemar now made his way through the mob
to where the new-comer stood. With the most refined
impertinence he drew the brim of his hat over his eyes
and stuck his hand into his waistcoat pockets as he sur-
veyed the other.

“Sir, your appearance has caused a sudden revolu-
tion. May I ask your name?”

“My name is Ivan Behrend,” returned the stranger,
without changing his negligent attitude.

“ Ah,” said the prince, suddenly taking off his hat and
bowing low. “I have had the honor of hearing of you.
Are you not the renowned pistol-shot, who can shoot a
cigar out of a man’s mouth? I am a nobody in com-

422 BLACK DIAMONDS

parison; I am only Prince Waldemar Sondersheim. I
cannot shoot as you do. But let us talk sensibly. You
want to buy Bondavara shares at par? Have you inher-
ited suddenly the fortune of an Indian nabob, who made
it a condition that you should buy the shares at par?”

“No. I buy them because they are worth that price.”

** Don’t you know that the Bondavara mine is on fire?”

“T happen to own the adjoining one, therefore I am
quite aware that such is the fact.”

“ Then your mine will be on fire next.”

“Not so. I extinguished the fire in mine a fortnight
ago.”

At these words the noise rose to a regular tumult; the
shareholders pressed round Ivan, and nearly suffocated
him. The man is there who can extinguish the fire. The
mine will soon be again in working order. Bondavara
stands once more at par.

The bears had to retire. The joyful shareholders sur-
rounded Ivan and carried him in triumph out of the hall.

That same evening a large meeting was held, at which
Ivan, before an enormous audience, filling the room to
suffocation, declared authoritatively that he had an in-
fallible plan, which had, in fact, been tried on the Bon-
davara mine, and had put out the conflagration. He
invited every one present to see the experiment tested
next day in the open air, when it would be distinctly
proved that his words were no idle boast.

The following morning, in presence of a large crowd,
he fulfilled his promise, succeeding admirably in the
demonstration. A funeral pile of coal and turf, over
which petroleum had been poured, was set fire to, and
when blazing to its greatest height was put out in a few
minutes by some drops from a small bottle.

The jubilant public conducted Ivan back to the town

AT PAR. : 423

in triumph, and at the next general meeting of share-
holders it was resolved to offer him a remuneration of
six hundred thousand gulden if he would undertake to
bring the Bondavara mine into working order.

There were not wanting, however, plenty of opponents.
Foremost there was Prince Waldemar, who possessed
the largest proportion of shares, and who, nevertheless,
offered the most determined opposition. He did every-
thing to embarrass and obstruct Ivan’s scientific proposi-
tions.

“T grant,” he said, “that you may be able to put out
with one bucket of fluid six cubit feet of burning coals ;
but consider for a moment that in the Bondavara pit,
reckoning from the place where the explosion took place
to the castle, there must be at least sixty thousand cubit
feet of burning stratum. You must have, to meet this,
ten thousand buckets of fluid ready to shoot over the
mass. What machine have you that would be able for
such an operation as this?”

“T have not forgotten that such a machine would be
necessary,” returned Ivan, quietly.

“Let us suppose,” continued the prince, “that you do
succeed in getting a sufficient quantity of fluid to bear
upon the burning mass. Don’t you perceive that this
very supply will develop a monstrous amount of gas,
which would permeate the pit from top to bottom, and
cause another and still worse explosion ?”

“T have foreseen this danger.”

“ And, finally, if you possess any idea, which you evi- ;
dently do, of the mechanism of machines and the expen-
diture necessary to procure the best, you must face the
problem that a million of money will not be sufficient to
procure the necessary materials which would be wanting
to make the experiment successful.”

424 . BLACK DIAMONDS

“TI have drawn up an estimate of probable outlay.”

The shareholders here shouted out to him that they
undertook all expenses, even if they amounted to a mill-
ion, and on the spot it was agreed that Ivan should re-
ceive full powers to do for the Bondavara mine what he
considered necessary, let the cost be what it might.

_ Prince Sondersheim saw that he could not stem the
course of Ivan’s popularity; it must have its way.
While the assembled shareholders were signing the
_ deed of authorization, he took Ivan aside, and said to
him:

“Tvan Behrend, whether the undertaking you have
engaged in succeeds or not—I do not believe that it
will succeed—you will have taken out of my pocket a
million—a million net. Besides this, you have squan-
dered five hundred gulden of your own money, without
reckoning what is yet to be spent. Let that be. You
have done this by fixing the quotations at par. It is
true that the shares will neither be bought nor sold, for
both sides will be afraid, and will hold back; neverthe-
less, the quotation will stand at par, and I am obliged
to pay the difference on this—that will cost me a mill-
ion. But that is nothing; I have lost as much before
now, and recovered it again. One has only to play the
waiting game. If, however, in a fortnight’s time you
find that you miscalculated your powers, and that your
experiment fails, you have only to let it be known, and
I shall pay one million into your hand.”

Ivan answered this contemptible proposal with busi-
ness-like composure.

“Prince Sondersheim, the stock-exchange is, as I
am well aware, a privileged place. Here a man can say
things without having any fear of consequences. What
a man says or does, what proposals he makes—every:

AT PAR 425

thing is, in a sense, allowable, and the ordinary rules
which govern the outside world do not apply. Here
one man may ask the other, ‘ How much do you ask for
selling the honor of your company?’ and if the answer’
is, ‘It is not for sale,’ that is enough. Here there is
plain speaking ; no one is offended at being asked to be
an accomplice in a robbery. It would be no reflection
on his character ; he would assume no airs of righteous-
ness, but simply answer, ‘I really haven’t time.’ If men
quarrel, if they spit at one another, tear the hats off one
another’s heads, that is nothing; it goes no further; no
one turns round to look at them. They wipe the spittle
off their faces, pick up their hats, and after half an hour
walk about arm in arm. No one remembers that they
were fighting ; it was only a little ‘difference,’ which led
to an animated scene. ‘Therefore, to the proposal made
by Sondersheim, the Bondavara coal-merchant, to Beh-
rend, the Bondavara coal-trader, there is but one answer,
‘Sir, I cannot entertain your offer.’ Prince Waldemar
Sondersheim will, however, do well to remember not
to repeat outside the stock-exchange such a proposal to
Ivan Behrend.”

The prince laughed. “I guessed as much. I have
often heard of you, and if you behave well you shall
hear how it came to pass that I know so much about
you. Once upon a time you took my part in a very en-
ergetic manner; and to a very pretty woman. I do not
know why you should have done so; it is sufficient for
me that you did. Also, you withdrew your own claim
to the favor of this very pretty woman. But it was no
good, she is now the wife of an unworthy fellow; but
your unexplained intervention in my favor, which could
not have been a business manceuvre, but must have
sprung from almost a chivalrous Puritanism, has placed

426 BLACK DIAMONDS _

me under a debt of gratitude towards you. _ It that lady
had listened to your advice, things would have been
very different. No sulphur deposit would have been
found in the castle lake ; the whole speculation, in fact,
would have had no existence. Outside the exchange we
will not recur to the subject. I have mentioned it from
a sense of gratitude, and I shall note it in my book. If
you succeed in extinguishing the fire you are to receive
six hundred thousand gulden from the company ; if a
fail you shall have a million from me.”

This long conversation between Ivan and the prince
excited some alarm among the shareholders; they tried
to interrupt it.

“No tampering, prince. Let our man alone.” They
were afraid he would turn round.

“ Don’t be afraid,” returned the prince; “ we are talk-
ing of a lady whom we both admired.”

But the shareholders’ suspicions were not allayed by
these words. They chose from among themselves a
commission of three members, who should accompany
Ivan in every step he took, never leave him, eat with him,
sleep outside his door, keep watch under his window, so
that their enemy should not approach him without their
knowledge. This was all done under the pretence. of
giving him assistance, and for the purpose of keeping
him supplied with money.

Ivan procured the necessary machines and workmen,
and travelled back with them and his three companions
to Bondavara.

His three commissioners were likewise to furnish the
company with a daily report of the progress of the work.
One of the three was the clerk Spitzhase, who had the
reputation of being the most circumspect, careful, and
impudent servant of the company. This last epithet is

AT PAR 427

hot meant in the worst sense of the word. In money
matters modesty and meekness are oftentimes great
faults, and the contrary qualities are of infinite use.
The word is therefore meant in praise. Ivan many
times chucked Spitzhase out at the door, but the clerk
always returned by the window.

CHAPTER XXXIX

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD

THE three commissioners for the first fortnight had
little to say; their report was meagre of incident.
Behrend came morning and evening to dine and sup
with them in the little village inn; the rest of the day
and of the night he spent continuously underground.
When they asked him what he was doing, he said, short-
ly, that everything was going on well.

Things might be going well, but there was nothing
visible to the commissioners. And, moreover, there
was ome very suspicious circumstance which struck
Spitzhase especially, and this was that Behrend spent
his time in his ows colliery. It was there that all the
expensive machines had been set up and all the chemi-
cal stuffs had been taken. Not a single thing had been
done to the company’s mine; not a bit of rubbish had
been cleared away, not one of the entrances had been
opened; in fact, a fortnight had slipped away, and no
work had been undertaken. It was undoubtedly true
that the machines were always at work, and cart-loads
of clay and stones were perpetually being wheeled away.

The whole thing was incomprehensible, and Behrend
would not give the slightest explanation.

At the beginning of the following week Spitzhase lost
all patience.

“Sir,” he said to Ivan, with suppressed irritation,

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD 429

“you promised that in a fortnight the conflagration in
our mine would be extinguished. The time is up, and
I have not seen that anything has been even attempted.”

“That is very probable,” returned Ivan, quietly.

“Do you maintain still that everything is progressing
satisfactorily ?”

“ I do.”

“Can I see for myself what has been done ?”

“Where you are standing it would be impossible for
you to judge.”

“Well, let me go where I can see something.”

“ Do you really wish to go below? It is not a pleas-
ant place.”

“Where you go, so can I; for my part, I don’t care
if it was hell itself.”

“It is not unlike what hell must be.”

“Well, I am resolved to pay it a visit. I want to
make the acquaintance of the devil; perhaps I could
make an arrangement with him to supply us with coal.”

“You may come on one condition: if you accompany
me you must understand that I cannot let you stand
gaping about. There is not room in the place for more
than two people, and they must both work.”

“T am not afraid of work. I am the devil for work.”

“Very good, then, come along,” said Ivan; “and if
the other gentlemen would like to accompany us to
where the machines are working they can follow us.”

The others seized the opportunity.

Ivan made them put on miners’ dress. They were
then hoisted into the crane, and descended into the
shaft. Each one had a safety-lamp fastened to his belt
and wore a thick felt hat.

Ivan led them through the different windings of the
pit until they came to the iron door of the cavern in

430 BLACK DIAMONDS

which, not long since, the pond used periodically to
come and go. The middle of this space was now filled
by a large rnill-like machine, which was kept in motion
by an endless strap worked from above. In this mill
some substance was being ground, and, when reduced
to fine powder, was carried, by means of certain me-
chanical contrivances, through a pipe and over a bridge,
where it disappeared from view.

Ivan led his guests through still more tortuous ways.
Once they descended the shaft of a well; once they
mounted high ladders, finding themselves when they
had done so in a small chamber, not measuring six feet
in circumference, in which two miners were waiting—an
old and a young man.

“Now,” said Ivan to Spitzhase, “ here is our dress-
ing-room ; we must put on our costume.”

“What! have we another change of clothes ?”

“Yes, we have to don a coat of mail in the tourna-
ment in which we are going to take part; we require
armor.”

At a sign from him the miners came forward and be-
gan to prepare the two gentlemen. The equipment was
something similar to that of a fireman—a coat and
stockings, the outer stuff being made of asbestos, while
the space between that and the lining was filled with
pulverized charcoal; the hands and arms were also
covered with long gloves made of asbestos, the fingers
being air-proof.

“We could pass for knights,” said Spitzhdse, jest-
ingly.

“Wait until you see our helmets,” returned Ivan.

The miners brought two helmets made of glass, each
of which had a hollow space with twelve joints and
three apertures. Ivan explained the use of these.

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD 431

“The place into which we are about to descend is
full of coal-gas. We must have an apparatus which will
enable us to pass through fire and to dive under
water.”

Spitzhase began to repent that he had been so ven-
turesome, but he was ashamed to turn back now, and he
had a certain amount of pluck.

“We need,” continued Ivan, ‘‘an apparatus which is
a combination of the diver’s and the fireman’s dress.
To the glass helmet, which will be attached to the coat-
collar by means of air-proof caoutchouc, there will be
fastened two tubes, through one of which the necessary
amount of air will be conveyed to us, and through the
other the bad air will be expelled. The ends of both
the tubes will remain here, while we drag them after us
in the same manner as does the diver. Although all
bad air escapes from our helmets, still we shall find the
air rather warmer than it is up here, and it will smell
like vulcanized india-rubber; still we cannot suffocate.
To this third aperture an elastic tube will be fixed,
which unites both helmets ; through this tube each will
hear what the other says, for the glass is so thick that
no sound penetrates it, and when you have it on your
head you will with difficulty hear what is said by me.”

Spitzhase had begun to feel very uncomfortable, for
now the miner proceeded to adjust the glass helmet to
his head. When the tubes were being fixed into the
three apartures he perceived that he had become sud-
denly stone deaf. He saw the lips of the two commis-
sioners moving, but not one word could he hear. He
no longer belonged to the world. Only one sound
reached him, and that was the voice of the man to whose
head he was fastened.

“ Take one end of the hose upon your arm,” shouted

432 BLACK DIAMONDS

the voice into his helmet; yet the sound seemed to come
from a long way off, or as if out of a tunnel.

Mechanically he took the coil on his shoulder.

“Let us go,” shouted Ivan, taking the other end of
the coil on his shoulder, and, opening a thick oak door,
which had hitherto escaped Spitzhase’s observation, they
passed through.

The two commissioners had heard nothing that had
passed between the two “knights”; but when they saw
the oak door open they hurriedly asked the miners wheth-
er the foul air did notcome in. The older workman reas-
sured them; the carbon was much heavier than oxygen,
and even thicker than hydrogen. The foul air remained
below, where the two divers had gone. They might
have every confidence so long as the safety-lamps
burned. Meantime, the others had penetrated into a
roomy cavern, the walls of which proved it had not been
made by the hands of men, but was a natural formation.
Each partition of the wall fitted into another, like the
blocks of a puzzle, and each block was as smooth as a
steel mirror. They were masses of coal set obliquely
one upon another. The cavern was bridged over with
thick, strong wooden planks. The gearing strap, which
had made its way from the cavern in serpent-like fash-
ion, had set a wheel in motion, and the noise of the
clapper resounded under the bridge, and made a sound
as if it were working in deep water. From this bridge
a narrow path led obliquely into the stone layers. Once
beyond the entrance into this dark path the lamps
ceased to burn; the coal-gas had begun its sway.
Upon the bridge an electric machine was placed, whose
brilliant light was shaded by a wire screen.

The old miner set the machine working, and the light
flashed into every nook and cranny of the subterranean

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD 433

cavern. It lighted up the narrow tunnel which, for the
last month, Ivan had been boring from his own mine to
that of his neighbor. He had told no one what he had
been doing, but now the work was almost finished ; it
only required to be broken through. This work, which
would take another week to complete, needed to be
done in a diver’s equipment. The length of the narrow
tunnel was perfectly illumined by the electric machine,
as if in the broad light of the sun. Where it turned out
of its course high looking-glasses of polished steel were
placed in positions which reflected the light itself until
it faded away to a faint glimmer. The two divers could
now hardly discern an object.

“We shall soon be in darkness,” said Spitzhase to
Ivan.

“We shall have light enough,” returned Ivan; and
he led the way farther into the tunnel.

Spitzhase was forced to follow, for his head was fast-
ened to Ivan’s head. Wonderful pair of Siamese twins!
If the pipe that bound them together were to break,
both were dead men.

“Halt! cried Ivan. “Here is the pump. Give me
the pipe.”

In the half-darkness a little machine three feet high
was discernible; it was provided with a spring wheel.
This suction-pipe had been brought here only the day
before. Ivan took the caoutchouc coil from his com-
panion’s shoulder, and screwed the pipe to the aperture
of the machine; then he set the wheel in motion, and
in a few seconds it, with the heavy balls attached, was
revolving with velocity. Then he took the end of the
pipe and gave the coil back to Spitzhase with this dif-
ference: instead of putting it over his arm he hung the

hose over his neck. Spitzhase felt as if the pipe were
28

434 : BLACK DIAMONDS

about a hundredweight heavier, and that it had grown
suddenly stiff.

“ Forward! quick march!” shouted Ivan into his hel-
met.

“It begins to be hot as hell itself,” grumbled Spitz-
hase, who was suffering horribly.

“ Because we are in a part of the mine where the fire
has been put out.”

Both the men wore on their feet glass slippers, other-
wise they would have felt that the ashes through which
they were wading were glowing with heat.

The india-rubber hose hung round Spitzhase’s neck.
It grew darker and darker, until at last it was as dark
as Erebus.

““T can see nothing,” shouted Spitzhase.

“You are safe if you follow me,” returned Ivan.

It began to grow somewhat lighter. The light, how-
ever, was rose color; there was twilight, then, in the
bowels of the earth.

Spitzhase complained he could hardly draw his breath.

“That will get better presently,” said Ivan, encourag-
ing him.

They had now turned the corner of the road, and the
terrible tragedy of hell itself lay before them. Yes, hell
itself was there. A burning labyrinth, in whose glowing
passages the prismatic colors changed every moment.
The blue-green flames leaped from the ground and
blended with the flames of brilliant scarlet which played
upon the burning wall, and again faded in the far dis-
tance into a deep purple color. It was like a fairy
transparency at a pantomime. Through the fissures
and crevices sheets of white sun-rays poured like molten
silver. Amid the glowing coals there seemed to rise
shapes as of demons dancing, creatures with green hair

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD 435

and red beards, and from the red sulphate of the vault-
ing there fell slowly a golden shower, a melting rain of
sparks. From the clefts in the side walls the gas, let
loose from all restraint, hissed like so many demoniacal
serpents, and kindled a subterranean flame of its own.
Out of the depths of the pit a waterspout of fire shot
suddenly, sending in every direction a shower of sparks.
Over the whole floated a milk-colored cloud, which filled
the vault with a nebulous vapor, wandering as a will-o’-
the-wisp here and there, and threatening every moment
to envelop the rash visitors to hell in its chill embrace.
Spitzhase, alarmed out of all control, pressed closer to
the wall ; fright was overcoming him.

“Let go the hose!” shouted Ivan. The hose fell like
a serpent unchained, wriggling backward and forward.
“Now follow me. Hold the pipe on your arm ;” and he
drew Spitzhase after him.

He was constrained to follow, although his heart was
in his mouth ; their heads were fastened to each other.
If he had had sufficient strength to free himself from this
terrible companionship, it would have in no way helped
him, for the carbon would have killed him instantane-
ously.

Mechanically he allowed himself to be drawn on.
Hell with all its horrors disclosed itself to his affrighted
gaze. His companion seemed to fear nothing. Was he
a human being, or a fiend, who was in reality possessed
of power over the demons of hell? He dragged him to
the very border of the fiery lake ; then he took from his
shoulder the hose, which lay in rings and coils, and,
opening the mouth of the stop-cock, directed its force at
the bosom of hell. The hose shot forth a flash like a
diamond ; the water-spirit fell into the glowing Gehenna,

“ Hold tight !” shouted Ivan,

436 BLACK DIAMONDS

And from the force which the stream from the pipe
exercised upon the burning mass the air was filled with
dark clouds of smoke, which peopled the still brilliantly
lighted cavern with strange, unearthly, spectral-like shad-
ows, which, dissolving suddenly into steam, covered the
two adventurous visitors with a damp moisture. One of
them tottered. : .

“Fear nothing,” calls out the other; “we are quite
safe here.”

“It is suffocating; I am burning!” cried Spitzhase.

“Do not be afraid ; follow me,” said Ivan, and drew
his trembling comrade after him over the wet rocks, over
the charred, burning mounds. Every spot where he saw
the flames rising he directed the hose, and a shower of
cool, refreshing water fell from the india-rubber pipe upon
the burning, seething demoniacal flames. The gas hissed,
the hot steam boiled round them, the flames, beaten
down in one place, sprang up in another, but on they
went. He was afraid of nothing. “Forward! go on!
forward!’ The mysterious clouds hovered over him.

“We are lost!” moaned the other poor mortal, whose
fear began to be uncontrollable. He fell on his knees.

“You of little faith,” said the conqueror of hell, “ get
up. Let us go back.” And he lifted him up, as the Re-
deemer did Peter on the stormy Sea of Galilee.

Then he rolled the hose once more round his neck,
and took it back to the suction-pump.; this he closed,
and then led his comrade again to the little room where
they had put on their equipment.

Spitzhase sank back when he reached this haven.
When his helmet was taken off he panted like a man
who was suffocating for want of air. Ivan looked at
him compassionately.

The miners gave each of them a glass of fresh lemon-

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD 437

ade to drink, and rubbed their temples with vinegar.
They then undressed them to the skin, put them into a
tub of cold water, took them out in two seconds, and
rubbed them with coarse towels. Spitzhase began to
recover his senses.

As they put on their usual clothes Ivan said to him,
* Well, sir, how did you like being below ?”

Spitzhase was no fool, but he answered, good-humor-
edly, “ I wouldn’t have missed going down for a hundred
gulden, but I would pay twice that sum rather than go
there again.”

“Now you know what to write to your board of direc-
tors. Paul, take this gentleman home. I remain here
to continue the work.”

Spitzhase wrote a glowing account of what he called
“the fight with the world of spirits” to the Vienna
papers. ,

The next day Ivan said to the commissioners, “We
have now laid pipes four inches in diameter to work
upon the very heart of the fire. So soon as I am ready
we shall set the high-pressure machine at work. This
will empty in four hours ten thousand buckets of fluid
on the burning mass.”

“The devil take it!’ cried Spitzhase. “‘ Will this
farce never have an end until the escaped gas blows up
the colliery, and makes of it and of us a new Pompeii ?”

“Do not be afraid. I have thought of this danger.
We have taken care to stop all the outlets to the quarry
gallery with sand-bags. We have walled up every pos-
sible fissure, crevice, and exit. The entrance to the
well-shaft has been provided with a strong iron door,
over which we have fastened a thick bed of clay. If,
therefore, it should happen that in the gallery, where
the conflagration is at its worst, and where the fluid

438 BLACK DIAMONDS

must be poured freely, the mass of gas should develop
in such force that it must explode, then the iron door
will prove our salvation. It will resist all attack, and the
force of the gas will be broken.”

The members of the commission shook with fright.
Here was a pleasant prospect! Ivan, however, had no
time to spare on reassuring them; the crisis was at
hand, and he had still much to do. Prudence, foresight
was necessary. At mid-day he returned to the quarry
gallery.

As the clock struck twelve he gave the signal at which
the large suction-pump was to be set in motion. He
remained from this time at his post, never leaving the
machine until the work was finished. To their honor
be it spoken, the three commissioners remained with
him; they kept’ their places without moving, never
speaking a word. During the awful time that followed
no voice was heard but that of Ivan. Soon after the
signal was given a rushing sound was heard under-
ground, faint at first, but growing louder. It sounded
as if in the distance water was pouring from an open
sluice.

At first the machine was worked at only half its
strength. After half an hour or so there mingled with
the rushing sound a great tumult, as if many bells were
vibrating in the air. The noise did not die away; on
the contrary, the vibration grew every moment stronger.

The earth was in labor; the ground heaved and
trembled, and those who felt its throes trembled also.
The earth’s sufferings were shared by her children.
Only one man was calm; the master-spirit was not
afraid.

With close attention Ivan watched the pendulum and
the thermometer of the machine; he marked the yaria-

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD 439

tions in the condition of the barometer, the ozonometer,
and electrometer, writing his observations in his note-
book. After another hour he made a sign to the man
working the machine to put on more pressure.

Thereupon arose from below a terrible uproar ; it was
the battle of the Cyclops. The bowels of the earth sent
up a dull roar like the rolling of thunder ; occasionally
came a shock as of an earthquake. The houses began
to rock, the tops of the tall trees and the cross upon the
tower tottered, and its fall added to the anxiety felt by
the entire valley. The underground fight grew every
moment fiercer; the giants joined issue with their foes.
They howled in rage ; they put their gigantic shoulders
together and tried to upset the earth. To their cries
was added the bellowing of the hurricane confined in
the cave, and the tumult was indescribable.

The listeners to this fearful scene looked with a stony
stare of horror; they were speechless, but their look
seemed to say, “What rash act have you done? Are
you inciting the spirits who dwell under the earth to
war against one another?”

Ivan answered with another look of calm superiority.
“Fear nothing ; I have my foot upon the head of the
giant.”

The underground battle had lasted three hours. The
people were beside themselves with fright; they turned
upon Ivan and cursed him.

“Do you think you are a God,” they cried, “and can
create an earthquake ?”

Ivan paid no attention either to their fears or their
curses; he gave another signal to the men at the ma-
chine—

“With the whole power

The machine, the outcome of the wonderful inventive

be

440 BLACK DIAMONDS

genius of man, stormed the very gates of hell itself.
The underground tremblings followed one another rap-
idly, growing stronger and stronger; the deep groaning
rose to a stentorian, deafening roar.

“Tt is all over!” shrieked the people in the valley,
and fell upon their knees.

In the air a shrill, whistling sound was now heard, as
if an engine had suddenly let off steam, and out of the
shaft of the company’s mine there arose rapidly a white
column of steam, which, as soon as it encountered the
cold regions of space, shot up into the sky, where it
formed itself into a white cloud, which cloud suddenly
broke into a deluge of rain. At once the underground
convulsion ceased, and the shrill whistling died away in
the distance.

Ivan, looking round, said, quickly, “ Paul, collect the
rain-water ; I must know what it is made of.” Upon
this he gave the machinist the signal to stop the ma-
chine. There was not even a drop of perspiration upon
his forehead. He took the bottle of rain-water that Paul
brought him and put it in his pocket. “ Now, gentle-
men,” he said, “you can go to supper. The work is
accomplished.” |

“Ts the fire extinguished ?” asked Spitzhase.

* Absolutely.”

“ And the pillar of steam yonder ?”

“Will remain in the sky until midnight sits then
slowly damp away. Go to supper. I have something
of importance to do at home.”

Who cared to eat supper?

The pillar of steam still continued to rise from the
shaft, and to form a cloud from which a steady down- |
pour of rain fell continuously, occasionally interspersed
by flashes of lightning; but no one thought of going in-

THE UNDERGROUND WORLD 44!

doors. The richer members of society wrapped them-
selves in mackintoshes, the workmen in their cloaks, and
all continued to watch the strange appearance, until at
last, towards ten o’clock, it began to grow smaller. The
whistling sound was interrupted now and again by a
piercing shriek, and sometimes a flash of lightning illu-
mined the shadow of the pillar—the white cloud.

The steam giant then sank back; not all at once, but
by degrees, into the pit from which it had arisen. Only
occasionally, from time to time, its head reappeared for
a second, but the whistling ceased altogether; so, too,
did the heaving of the earth. The unearthly tumult was
silenced. In the church the sound of the organ was
heard, and voices intoning “Alleluia! Alleluia!” The
people walked in procession, carrying lanterns and ban-
ners.

The commissioners made their way to the inn, where
they found Ivan eating his supper. He could eat now;
it struck him that he was mortal and wanted food.

“T have finished the chemical examination,” he said
to the other three with polite indifference, “and I can
give you the satisfactory news that in the residue 0.75
of carbonic acid is to be found.”

Spitzhase did not understand. ‘ What good is it,” he
asked, “if seventy-five parts of carbonic acid are in the
residuum ?”

“To-morrow we can open both entrances to the col-
liery, and after the air-pumps have been settled the work
can be resumed.”

Alleluia! Alleluia!

CHAPTER XL

ANGELA IS EVEN WITH IVAN

Success brings with it fame, fortune, and universal
esteem. Men worship success, and with justice.

He who has saved a great treasure, who has restored
to thousands of people their country, their industry; he
who has overcome a universal calamity which threatened
an entire province; he who has given to thousands on
the verge of beggary their livelihood, who has dried the
tears of the widow and the orphan—he is near to God
himself.

Honors and rewards were showered upon Ivan. The
government gave him for all time the patent for his dis-
covery. By the Joint-Stock Mining Company he was
handsomely remunerated. A monster deputation obliged
him to accept the place of director. Scientific societies
at home and abroad elected him member. His picture
and biography appeared in all the illustrated papers of
Europe and America. The simple villagers in Bonda-
thal prayed for him night and morning ; and when the
first train steamed out of the Bondavara station, the
locomotive bore the name of “ Behrend.” It was only
God’s providence that preserved him from receiving
“an order.”

Perhaps the most interesting testimony, and the one
most valued by Ivan, was a letter which the Countess
Angela wrote to him with her own hand.

ANGELA IS EVEN WITH IVAN 443

The countess told him frankly all that had happened
to her since they had met; how she had married the
Marquis Salista; how unhappy he had made her by
the pressure he brought to bear upon her grandfather,
Prince Theobald, which ended in his property being se-
questrated, to the ruin of the whole family of Bonda-
vary. She had suffered greatly in consequence, and
had known what privation meant; also the income of
the Countess Theudelinde had been considerably di-
minished, and the old lady had been forced to reduce her
household. This condition of affairs had shown them
their former friends in their true light—among others,
Salista, her husband, who had gone to Mexico, and left
her to shift for herself. Then Ivan had come to the
rescue. Prince Waldemar’s triumphal progress had been
effectually checked. The million of money placed by
Prince Theobald in the Bondavara Company had re-
gained its value. The prince had arranged with his
creditors, and his affairs were once more settled. She
had been reconciled to him, and lived with him.
Countess Theudelinde likewise had recovered her rents.
The great family of Bondavary, which had been so near
ruin, was reinstated in its former position. And for its
new lease of life it had to thank a certain beneficent,
clever—

Here Countess Angela’s letter broke off. There was,
however, a postscript :

“ Answer this letter. I beg for one word. Write ‘I
forgive you.’”

Ivan answered her immediately. He expressed his
gratitude for her kind remembrance of him, but he
could not imagine what he had to forgive. On the con-
trary, he had a lively recollection of the many kindnesses
he had received from the Countess Angela Salista.

444 BLACK DIAMONDS

The letter was evidently written with an effort to be
cold and polite. It was followed by a second letter from
Angela, which ran thus:

“Do not answer mein that way. I have sinned against
you. You do not reproach me, but my own heart and
conscience do. To quiet these tormentors I need your
pardon. Answer me sincerely. Can you ever forgive
me? I should not have treated you as I did—”

Ivan answered this by a long, confidential letter. He
confessed to her secrets of his heart, made to her con-
fessions which never before passed his lips. The count-
ess might be confident that she had never offended
him. She had never forfeited the place she held in his
respect.”

A third letter came from Angela.

“Tf you can do so from your heart, write upon a piece
of paper, ‘Angela Bondavary, I forgive you, from my
heart.’”

Ivan wrote these words and nothing else.

One evening two carriages drove into the court-yard
of Ivan’s house. He lived now in the handsome resi-
dence provided by the company for the director of the
mines. The porter exchanged some words with the per-
son who sat in the first carriage, and then came to Ivan
with two visiting-cards.

Ivan, to his surprise, read the names—

Countess Theudelinde Bondavary.
Countess Angela Bondavary.

These names caused a great disturbance in Ivan’s_
mind. What did they want? Why did they come to
him? He told the porter to show the ladies in, and then,

ANGELA IS EVEN WITH IVAN 445

taking up the cards again, it struck him as odd that the
Countess Angela’s did not bear the name of her husband.

The door opened, and only one lady entered. She
was dressed in mourning, and her face was covered bya
thick veil, the thick crape concealing her features. It
was the Countess Theudelinde. She had on a long
black travelling-cloak with two capes. She came to
Ivan and held out to him the finger-tips of her black
glove, which he carried to his lips, while she murmured
some words of greeting.

“ Where is the marquise ?” asked Ivan, anxiously.

“She will be here immediately ; but it is very difficult
to bring her in.”

Ivan conducted the lady to a sofa and asked her to be
seated.

“Do not go to meet her,” continued the countess.
“She will find her way. You will receive her kindly,
won’t you ?”

“Oh, countess,” Ivan began ; but Theudelinde inter-
rupted impatiently.

“No phrases, please. We have not come here for
polite words or to exchange compliments. We come to
make a request; the answer is simple. Yes or no,
Angela wants to remain here.”

“ Here!’’ repeated Ivan, horrified.

“Yes, here! Do not be afraid; not in this house,
but in the neighborhood. She wishes to remain near
you—never to leave you—that is her desire; and she
has a right to have her wishes granted.”

Ivan began to think he must be dreaming; he did
not know what to say, but his thoughts were distracted
by a strange noise outside. Along the passage came
the heavy tread of several men. ‘The door opened and
four miners came in, carrying between them a metal

446 BLACK DIAMONDS

coffin, on the lid of which lay a white wreath of repoussé
silver.

The wreath surrounded the arms of the Bondavary
family, and underneath was carved in gold letters—

ANGELA BONDAVARY.

The coffin was placed upon the oak table. Ivan
stood as if he were turned into a statue, his eyes fixed
upon the wreath and the name underneath.

Theudelinde got up and seized his hand, saying, in a
low, agitated voice:

“This is the Countess Angela Bondavary, who begs
of you, as the master here in Bondavara, to find for her
a small place in the family vault of the castle, where she
may lie among her own people, waiting for the coming
of Jesus Christ—the Bridegroom of all poor women
whose lives have been desolated.”

“How is it possible that she is dead?” said Ivan,
who was deeply moved.

“How? Very easily! When you throw a rose into
the fire, in two minutes you will only find its ashes. I
had just heard her laugh; she was quite gay. Then she
went too near the stove ; the next moment she screamed,
and I saw her enveloped in flames !”

“She was burned to death!” cried Ivan, covering his
face with his hands. Then, after a pause, “ Was there
no one near to save her?”

“Was there no one?” answered Theudelinde. “ Were
you, then, asleep at midnight? Did you not hear her
call, ‘Ivan, help me!’? Did you not see her standing
beside your bed in flames—an angel with hell in her
heart? Why were you not by her side to hold her in
your arms, to stifle the flames, to snatch her from the
jaws of death? Where were you, who should have

ANGELA IS EVEN WITH IVAN 447

saved her? Now she is here, and says to you, ‘I am
gone. I amnoone. Let us be united.’”

Ivan felt as if an iron band had been laid upon his heart.

“She lived,” continued Theudelinde, “for two days.
She suffered the most terrible pain. When I think of
all she went through I feel as if my senses were leaving
me. To the lastshe was conscious. Shespoke— But
no—why should I tell you what she said? Just before
she died she asked for a pencil, and wrote a few words
to you. Here they are in this envelope. Do not break
the seal, do not read them, so long as I am here. I
would rather give you no explanation. If you have any-
thing to ask, ask it from her. Here is the key of the cof-
fin ; I give it to you.”

Ivan recoiled from receiving such a present.

“Why should you be afraid? Why do you object to
opening the coffin? There is nothing to fear. The
body is embalmed, and the flames did not touch her
face. You will see that she smiles.”

Ivan forced himself to raise the coffin-lid and to look
on the face of the dead. There was no smile on her
lips. She was calm and cold; as when she lay insensi-
ble in the wood, with her head upon a cushion of moss,
so now she lay upon her white satin cushion. Ivan felt
that if she could open her eyes for one minute she
would look at him proudly and say, “I want nothing,”
and close them again. How beautiful she was, with her
still, marble face, her immovable eyebrows. Ivan would
not disturb its calm loveliness by even one kiss. He
would have felt it to be dishonorable, and yet, if she
could have come to life again, who knows—? As on
the day when he had closed her dress with his breast-
pin, so now he shrouded her secret with the coffin-lid.
Her secret was safe with him.

448° BLACK DIAMONDS

“ Keep the key,” said Theudelinde. ‘The coffin, its
key, and the treasure it holds are yours ; that is settled.
You are the master of the vault; it is your duty to take
her there. You cannot escape it.” :

With eyes that were hot and tearless, Theudelinde
looked through her veil at Ivan. He returned the
glance. If either had shed a tear, or even let a sob es-
cape, both would have burst into passionate weep-
ing, for grief is infectious; but each one of them
was resolved to show mental strength in the presence
of the other. They could even command their emo-
tions,

“Do you undertake the duty ?”

Ivan bowed his head.

“Then you will perform it alone. Alive I shall never
enter the family vault. You know why.”

Both were silent. Then Theudelinde burst out:

“Why was I not left in my castle? Why was I unde-
ceived when I imagined that my ancestors visited me?
If I had not been shaken in my delusions I should
still have been happy. I should never have gone into
the world, where I have only found misery; Angela
would not have come to me; my brother Theobald
would not have been ruined; hell would not have
been let loose in the Bondavara mines; I should have
never known you; all—all would have been differ-
ent!” Then, after a pause, she went on: “There is no
need of a clergyman; there is no need of any ceremony.
You can say some prayers. You are a Protestant—so
was Angela. She became one that she might get a sep-
aration from her unworthy husband. Let them carry
the coffin quietly and reverently to the family vault.
There I shall leave you and it, for I shall not go inside
—never, until Iam dead. You will put the coffin in its

ANGELA IS EVEN WITH IVAN 449

place, and then I return whence I came, where I am
wanted by no one.”

Ivan called the miners to take the coffin again upon
their shoulders, and told them to carry it through the
vestibule to the private door which led into the park.
The park separated the director’s house from the castle.

As they walked through the winding paths of the
park the trees shed their golden leaves upon the coffin
and the titmice in the brushwood chanted the dirge.

Ivan walked bareheaded behind the coffin, and be-
hind him came Countess Theudelinde.

When they reached the entrance of the vault Ivan
told the bearers to put the coffin down, and, kneeling
down beside it, he remained for a long time praying.
God hears us if we speak to Him in a whisper ; nay, He
hears us, even although we do not speak, but feel.

Theudelinde bent over Ivan and kissed his forehead.

“T thank you. You walked behind her with your
head uncovered. Now she is all yours.” Then she re-
turned by the winding path, as if she were afraid that
Ivan would make her take away what she had brought.

Ivan placed the coffin in its resting-place and sent
away the bearers; then he remained for many hours
beside it. By the light of the torches he read Angela’s
last words to him—

“For whom shall I wait on the shore of the new
world ?”

Ivan sighed deeply. ‘Who will wait for me on the
shore of the new world ?”

Then he made his way back to the house. There was
no trace of either the countess’s travelling carriage or
Angela’s hearse.

29

CHAPTER XLI

HOW IVAN MOURNED

THEY were both gone, the high-born lady and the
peasant girl—gone where there is no sorrow and no
more sin. One had lost her life by charcoal, the other
by fire—two vengeful spirits.

Ivan thought of both with bitter regret. He felt now

that he was alone in the world. He would have given
all the fame he had acquired, the money he had earned,
the good he had done, to have been able to save even
one of these women. He mourned for them not in
black, not with crape on his hat. What good are these
signs of grief ?
_ The European mourns in black, the Chinese in yel-
low, the Mussulman in green ; in the classical age they
mourned in white ; the former generation of Hungarians
in violet; the Jews in rags; the philosopher in his heart.
The wise man never shares his grief, but he does his
joys.

Meantime, in the Bondavara Valley there reigned
peace and plenty; where there had been a half-savage
race there was a happy people. The worst characters
had settled down, morality had grown popular.

Ivan sent the young men at his own expense to fac-
tories abroad, where they learned the arts of civiliza-
tion. He brought wood-carvers from Switzerland and
lace-workers from Holstein to teach their trades to the

HOW IVAN MOURNED 451

women and children, so that they might unite artistic
labor with increase of wages. For a population where
every one, big and little, works either from necessity
or for amusement—a people who look upon work as
pleasure and who feel it no privation to be employed—
such a people are ennobled by their toil.

Ivan looked after the schools. He emancipated the
national teachers from the misery of their national
tyrants ; he rewarded the student with scholarships, the
school-boy with useful prizes ; in every parish he estab-
lished a library and reading-room. He accustomed the
people to put by the pence they could spare; he taught
them how to help one another; he established in Bon-
davara a savings-bank and a hospital.

His own colliery was a model. The miners and him-
self were the joint owners, and shared the profit. Who-
ever was taken on in this colliery should pass an exam-
ination and work one year on trial. This rule applied
to women and men alike. ‘This trial year was not easy,
particularly for the girls.

Nowhere was a girl so looked after; not in her
mother’s house or in a convent or state institution was
there more particularity as to manners and morals than
in Ivan Behrend’s colliery. Every word, every act was
watched. If any one failed to be up to the mark during
his year of probation, no one taunted him, nor was he
despised. He was simply told to go and work in the
company’s colliery, where there was better pay; and the
workman or workwoman imagined this was an advance,
not a degradation. In the company’s colliery there was
certainly more freedom, the rules being less strict.

If, however, at the end of the trial year the applicant
had fulfilled all requirements, he or she was received
into the colony and became a shareholder, so far as the

452 BLACK DIAMONDS

profit was in question. Besides this, a prize for virtue
was given once a year, on the anniversary of the great
pit-burning, to the most modest, well-conducted girl in
the colony.

Ivan spent on this prize fifty ducats, and the miners
on their side promised the winner a handsome wedding
present.

It was, of course, an understood thing that no one
went in for the prize. No one knew who was likely to
get it. The elders took notes ; it was their secret.

The giving of this prize was not to be attended with
any ceremonial, It would take place on an ordinary
working day, when all the miners would have picks and
shovels in their hands, so that every one could see that
the reward was not for a pretty face, but for a good
heart and industrious fingers. It was to be a day of
general rejoicing.

This was how Ivan mourned.

CHAPTER XLII

EVILA

Ir was the anniversary of the great pit fire. Old Paul
had gone to look for Ivan at his house in the principal
colony, but Ivan had already started for the smaller
colliery. He saw Paul on the road, and, stopping his
carriage, took the miner up.

“This day last year was a memorable day,” said Paul.

“T recollect it well,” returned Ivan; “but to-day we
have to give the prize for virtue. Have the jury settled
to whom it is to be given?”

“They are agreed. A girl who has been little less than
a year in the colliery.”

“ And she has fulfilled all conditions?”

“In every way. The child is most industrious. She
is every morning the first to come and the last to leave.
She never complains of the work, as many of them do; she
treats it as if it were a pleasure to her. If her wheelbar-
row is overloaded, she encourages the digger to put on
still more ; then she runs away gayly with her burden,
and comes back singing as if she had been amusing her-
self. At the end of the recreation she drives the other
girls back to their work.”

“Ts she vain?”

“No; she wears the same holiday clothes in which
she was dressed when she came a year ago; naturally
they are not quite as fresh as they were. She has a little

454 BLACK DIAMONDS

string of beads round her throat, and in her hair a narrow
ribbon. At night she washes her clothes in the stream,
for she has one peculiarity—she wears fresh linen every
day; but she makes it up herself, so she alone has the
troiible.”

“Ts she saving ?”

“She has more in our savings-bank than any one of
the girls. She would have still more, only that on Sun-
days she gives a whole day’s wages to the beggar who
sits at the church door.”

“Does she go to church regularly ?”

“Every Sunday she comes with us, but she never
sits with the other girls; she kneels before a side-altar,
covers her face with her hands, and prays all through
mass.”

“Ts she good-tempered ?”

“She has offended no one and has never been angry,
Once a woman said something very offensive to her, for
which we gave her a heavy fine. The woman was ready
to pay it, but the girl denied that she had been offended.
Soon after the woman got ill; she had no one to nurse
her, because she is a solitary widow, and this girl nursed
her every night, and fetched the medicine from the
apothecary for her.”

“Do you think she is a hypocrite?”

“She is too merry for that, and ready for a joke.
Hypocrites are gloomy folk. Our people would soon find
her out if she wasn’t on the square; but she is a prime
favorite with every one. We don’t choose our words ex-
actly, but we can make a fair guess at the girl who respects
herself. We like one that gives a good box on the ear to
a fellow who would make too free. Sharp with the
hand, but soft with her tongue; that’s our sort. And
still, sometimes I have watched her when she was in

EVILA «9; 458

quite another mood; for instance, on Sunday afternoons,
when we sit under the mulberry-trees, they all get round
me and make me tell them—God knows how often !—
the story of how you carried the pipe of the air-pump
into the gallery of the Bondavara mine, and how we all
thought you were a dead man. Women and children
hold their breath while I tell it. I believe I do tell that
story well, for they know it by heart, and yet they can-
not but listen. They take it in different ways; but this
girl, I have noticed her, she covers up her face and cries
the whole time.”

“ And is she a modest girl ?”

“To ascertain this point we had to call a jury of mar-
ried women. They couldn’t bring forward a single
charge against her. Then we got the girls together, and
we pressed them very close, if there was anything with
the young men, but they all said—no. And there was
no need for them to deny, for a peasant girl is fitly mated
with a miner, and if he wants her he can have her.”

They had now reached the colliery, and went into the
station-house, which stood at the corner of the branch
railroad. There was now another line, which ran under-
ground and connected the two collieries. Here Ivan
found a great many of the miners. He sent for the rest,
and told them work was over for the day. Men and
women assembled by degrees, and only one group of
girls still remained working. These had agreed not to
leave off until they had driven their load of coals to the
coal-hill, which lay between the entrance to the quarry
gallery and the station-house where Ivan sat waiting.
He could not see the girls; he could only hear their
clear voices as they called to one another to make haste
and get the work finished.

Some one began to sing. The melody was familiar

456 BLACK DIAMONDS

to Ivan—one of those sad Slav airs in which the singer
seems on the brink of tears; and the voice was sweet
and tuneful as a bell, full, too, of feeling.

‘*Say when I smoothed thy hair,
Showed I not tender care?
Say when I dressed my child,
Was I not fond and mild?”

Ivan’s face clouded. ‘Why do they sing that air?
Why should it be on the lips of any one? Why not let
it fall into oblivion ?”

“The girl is coming,” said old Paul. “I hear her
singing; she is now coming down the hill with her
wheelbarrow.”

The next moment the girl appeared upon the summic
of the coal-hill. With a run she had shoved her wheel-
barrow forward and emptied the contents with extraor-
dinary dexterity ; the big lumps of coal rolled down the
hill. She was a young, well-developed girl in a blue
jacket and a short petticoat ; but this red petticoat was
not tucked up—it fell over her ankles, and only showed
her feet. The colored handkerchief on her head had
fallen backward, and the rich plaits wound round her
small head could be seen. Her face was smudged with
coal-dust and was beaming with good-humor—earthly
dirt, supernatural glory. But what the coal-dust could
not conceal were the two large black eyes shining like
two brilliants—the darkness illumined by dazzling stars.

The girl stood immovable on the summit of the coal-
hill, then looked down with some surprise on the crowd
gathered in and around the station-house.

The next moment Ivan was beside her. In his joy
he had made one bound from the station-house across
the rails and had rushed up the coal-hill.

EVILA 457

* Eveline!” he cried, clasping the girl’s hand in his.

She shook her head, smiling at him. ‘No, sir,” she
said, “ Evila.”

“You here! You have come back here!”

“T have been in your colliery, sir, for a year, and if
you will keep me on I should like to stay.”

“You shall stay only on one condition—as my
wife,” cried Ivan, pressing her hand to his heart.

All who were at the foot of the hill saw this action;
they could almost hear his words.

Evila shook her head and drew away her hand.
“No, no. Allow me to be your servant, a maid in your
house, the maid of your wife. I shall be quite happy;
I expect nothing more,”

“ But I wish it. You have come back to me; you are
mine. How could you be so cruel as to be a year so
near me and never to tell me?”

“Oh, sir, you cannot raise me to your position !”’ said
Evila, with a sad yet dignified expression. “If you
knew all you would never forgive me.”

“T know everything, and forgive everything.”

These words proved that Ivan knew nothing. If he
had known the truth he would have been aware there
was absolutely nothing to forgive. As it was, he
pressed his young love close to his heart, while she
murmured :

“You may forgive me, but the world will never par-
don you.”

“The world!” cried Ivan, raising his head proudly.
“My world is Aere”—laying his hand on his breast.
“The world! Look round you from this hill. Every-
thing that lives in this valley owes its breath to me;
every blade of grass has to thank me that it is now
green. Hill and valley know that, under God, I have

458 BLACK DIAMONDS

saved them from destruction. I have acquired a million,
and I have not despoiled any one. With every penny I
receive a blessing. In the palace of the prince and in
the cottage of the widow I have dried the tears of
despair; I have delivered:my enemies from a living
grave, and I have saved their wives and children from
the misfortune of being widows and orphans. My name
is spoken of with admiration all over the globe, and yet
I have hid myself Aere, not to be troubled with their
praises; I do not care for praise. The most lovely of
women has smiled on me and loved me, but she was not
of my world. She is dead, and the key of her coffin is
a perpetual reminder to me that her world has passed
away. My world is within me, and into that inner
world of mine no one has ever entered, no one wé//
ever enter, but you! Speak, Evila; answer me. Will
you try to love me?”

The girl’s eyes sank before the ardent gaze of her
lover. Many men had made love to her, but none like
this man, whose face shone like Jupiter’s when, with a
look, he killed Semele.

“Oh, sir,” she murmured, “ if I do not die I shall love
you always; but my mind misgives me that I shall die.”

As she spoke she fell back fainting, her brilliant color
faded to a waxen pallor, the flashing eyes closed; her
body, which a moment before was like a blooming rose,
was now as lifeless as a withered leaf.

Ivan held her motionless form in his arms. The
woman whom he had so loved, for whom he had suffered
so much, was his, just as her pulse ceased to beat, just
as she had said, “‘I shall love you always, but I know
that I shall die.”

But she did not die.

“— =

woh joe

r

*
.
~
«
es *,

ev
rey,
r P
: ar A
: ,k 8 Wy =
; SF

>.
«
Be

'
X
—?
-
sy
;
X,
«>
Se, 5s
a7

Am ibs A
nee wa
+ ! . “ %
‘74. oc ee
re :
ne Kees ae
- .

UNIVERSITY OF TORONTC

LIBRARY

DO NOT
REMOVE
THE
CARD
FROM
THIS
POCKET

ay

HAMOHYHOR JO AWNYN aLYd
337°
*pivief*y seoueig Aq *44 ‘spuoueTp youT, SISTLI
iow *tTeyor Inge
¢ 7

Ot £809

FSS
Zien siete So

=

bf
Hitt iH

. enw ee
Se >
SSS SS SSS :
SSS SS aS