“Luckily death had left him time to make his will, which it took us an immense time to draw up through the obstinacy of the General, then a major lately married, and the father of two children since dead. Of those now living Ottomar was, if I am not mistaken, born in , and the daughter some years later. From the first moment that the Baron made the acquaintance of his brother-in-law, which as far as I can recollect was about the time of his own betrothal with the sister, he formed the deepest friendship with him—a friendship which matrimonial disturbances the less interfered with that Werben, who from the beginning had sided with his brother-in-law, with his usual determination, held fast to this line of conduct, and in consequence had many a stormy scene with his giddy but tenderly-loved sister. By the first draft of the will he was to inherit everything in trust for his children, while the Baroness only received her legal portion. Werben positively refused the inheritance for himself, but accepted it for his children after long consideration, though with the strangest restrictions. From the very first he had advised and at last obtained that the possibility of marrying again should not be taken from his sister, as this step would help her to return to a proper life, provided that the marriage should be with an equal, and in every way fitting. Upon the equality and other proprieties of this hypothetic second marriage the trustees—Herr von Werben himself, Herr von Wallbach (the father of the present man), and I—had to decide, as well as upon every other detail of the will. If the Baroness made an unequal second marriage against the will of the trustees, she was then reduced at once to her legal portion. If she remained unmarried, then the use of half of the revenues of the estate would be left to her entirely. The other half was to accumulate as capital, deducting a very moderate sum for the education of the General’s children, who on their side would receive equal parts of the revenues of the second half on attaining majority, only that the daughter would attain majority upon her marriage, whose propriety and equality were to be decided by the trustees as in the first case. If they, the children, whether son or daughter, contracted an unsuitable marriage, they lost thereby all claim to the succession, and their portion lapsed as if the delinquent were no longer alive.
“To put it shortly: the Baroness and the General’s children succeed one another in turns, so that, for instance, if the General’s children die or lose their rights in the way I have mentioned, the Baroness becomes sole heiress of the estates and has free disposal of everything, as, on the contrary, either of the other heirs would have free disposal if the Baroness died or forfeited her rights.”
“A strange will,” said the Count, who had listened with such breathless attention that he had even forgotten to rock himself.
“I am only answerable for the drawing up,” answered the Councillor; “the actual provisions are entirely the General’s work, who is, by the way, the most conscientious or rather pedantic of men, and with his speeches about uprightness and justice on all sides makes life intolerable to everyone. I assure you he might have had the whole thing without any trouble, and now all these restrictions and obstacles! I have mentioned one already which especially for us just now is very important.”
“The Baroness taking part in the management?”
“Exactly, which takes place in a few weeks. If we are then in a position to get the Baroness—or her factotum, which comes to the same thing—on our side, we shall certainly have the upper hand, and the General’s opposition will be broken down, so far at all events. In any other case—and we must be prepared for such—our beautiful plan of getting the Warnow estates into our own hands is as like a soap-bubble as one egg is like another.”
“And you have not once tried to sound the Baroness?” exclaimed the Count in a tone of reproach.
“I thought there would be time enough when the Baroness arrived here for the approaching arrangements for which her actual presence is indispensable. She is already on her way according to the last letter from Munich, where she proposes to spend this month. But now I will certainly do all I can to persuade her either to come sooner herself, or at least to send her factotum.”
“You know this gentleman?”
“Not personally, only through letters. Signor Giraldi is unquestionably a remarkable individual; scholar, diplomatist, artist, and man of business—the latter of the very first rank; a contest with him—à la bonne heure! I would rather have the devil himself as an adversary. But I am wasting time in chatter, though in a very pleasant way.”
The Councillor rose; the Count rocked himself again, looking put out.
“You are very kind,” said he, “but excuse my observing that I am no wiser than I was before.”
“Then excuse my remarking, Count Golm, that I think you are rather ungrateful,” replied the Councillor, drawing on his gloves. “I have done more for you than I would for our own shareholders, even if they went down on their knees to me in a body.
