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Updated: June 11, 2025
Zalika made many attempts to see her son once more, but to no purpose, and fully convinced at last, that she could accomplish nothing, she returned to her own country and her mother's house.
Falkenried was sentenced to a long imprisonment, but very soon released, for every one recognized that he had only fought to vindicate his wounded honor. In the meantime the suit for divorce had been begun, and a decree obtained; Zalika made no contest, nor did she venture to approach her husband again.
"So she is dead," said Regine, softly. "How did they live all these years?" Wallmoden shrugged his shoulders. "How do all adventurers live? Perhaps they had saved something from the shipwreck, perhaps they hadn't. At any rate she was to be found in the saloons of Rome and Paris. A woman like Zalika could always find assistance and protection.
But as soon as I returned to my post, ten years ago, I used my diplomatic position to ascertain what I could concerning them." "And what did you learn?" "At first, only what we already knew, that Zalika had taken her son to Roumania. You knew that her step-father, our cousin Wallmoden, had died some time before, and after her divorce from Falkenried she always lived with her mother.
He knew well enough that the name of his mother dare not be mentioned in his father's presence, and that he had been sharply reproved once for doing so, but he had been too much a child at the time to ask "why." Zalika gave him no time to do so now. She brushed the thick locks back from his brow and a shadow crossed her face. "You get your forehead from him," she said slowly.
Zalika began at once; regardless of all prudent considerations, to order her house after the same fashion as her father's, and squandered her large marriage portion right and left. In vain her husband pleaded with and admonished her; she paid no heed to him.
Zalika will not resign herself readily to your no; she made a desperate struggle for her child in the beginning." "But I obtained the victory. It is to be hoped she has not forgotten that." "At that time the question concerned the possession of the child," objected the secretary.
"Certainly, I gave him permission." "How unwise. I thought you would have seen to it that Zalika did not accomplish her ends; and now, whether it's right or wrong, you are sending your son to her." "Only for an hour, and only for a farewell, which I could not refuse. What are you afraid of now? Not that there will be any foul play?
I had begun to despair of seeing you to-day. What detained you?" "I could not come sooner," Hartmut explained, still breathless, after his long run. "I come from my father." Zalika drew back. "From your father? And he knows ?" "All!" "So he is at Burgsdorf? Since when? who told him?"
It had been a fatal error to believe a woman like Zalika Rojanow, who had grown up in the unrestrained freedom of a disorderly, extravagant Bojar family, could accommodate herself to the rules and restrictions of a settled German household. The only life she had ever known, and the only life which suited her temper, was one of excitement and outward splendor.
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