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Updated: August 16, 2024
He is Sorell's protégé, Radowitz, a young musician and poet! so they say. Sorell discovered him in Paris, made great friends with him, and then persuaded him to come and take the Oxford musical degree. He is at Marmion, where the dons watch over him. But they say he has been abominably ragged by the rowdy set in college led by that man Falloden. Do you know him?"
But next to him, to Radowitz himself, whom should you pity more than the man who was three parts to blame for injuring him?" His hoarse voice dropped. They came simultaneously, involuntarily to a standstill. Constance was shaken by alternate waves of feeling. Half of what he said seemed to her insolent sophistry; but there was something else which touched which paralysed her.
Hector's courage, and Andromache's tenderness, the bitter sorrow of Priam, the pity of Achilles, mother love and wife love, death and the scorn of death. He had felt her glow and tremble in the grip of that supreme poetry; for himself he had found her the dearest and most responsive of pupils. But what use was anything, if after all, as Radowitz vowed, she was in love with Douglas Falloden?
He could do nothing that he wanted to do. He stood at the window for some minutes looking out at the autumn moon, with his back to Falloden. Falloden took up one of the books he was at work on for his fellowship exam. When Radowitz came back to the fire, however, white and shivering, he laid it down again, and once more made conversation. Radowitz was at first unwilling to respond.
Falloden pondered a moment. "Tell Mr. Radowitz, when he rings again, that I have gone down to the college ground for some football, and I shan't be back till after six. You're sure he doesn't want to see me?" "No, sir, I think not. He told me to leave the blind down, and not to come in again till he rang."
During the crisis, Bismarck was summoned to the King at Letzlingen; there can be no doubt what his advice was; eventually the party of peace prevailed, and Radowitz resigned. Bismarck on hearing the news danced three times round the table with delight.
You danced with Radowitz last night, dance after dance so that it was the excitement, the event of the ball and you did it deliberately to show me that I was nothing to you nothing! and he, at any rate, was something. Well! I began to see red. You forget that" he spoke with difficulty "my temperament is not exactly saintly. You have had warning, I think, of that often.
"Poor poor old fellow!" he had once or twice raised himself from his bed in the early morning, as though answering this cry in his ears, only to find that he himself had uttered it. He had told his people nothing of Constance Bledlow beyond the bare fact of his acquaintance with her, first at Cannes, and then at Oxford. And they knew nothing of the Radowitz incident.
Once more the eyes opened, and Douglas saw in them the old affectionate look. Then the lips shaped themselves again to words that made no sound; a shudder passed through the limbs their last movement. Douglas knelt on, looking closely into his father's face, listening for the breath that came no more. He felt rather than saw that Radowitz had moved still further away.
It was very small, pleasantly furnished, and had a glorious view over Oxford in the hollow, the wooded lines of Garsington and Nuneham, and the distant ridges of the Chilterns. Radowitz was expected the following day, and his old college servant, with a woman to cook and do housework, had been found to look after him.
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