Lilly could now see only the outline of his figure, behind which the dog's eyes glowed like two beacon lights. Since her school days she had not abandoned herself so completely to a spirit of pure fun, and she had to wait until a pause came in her laughing before she could tell him it was high time to be returning.
He obediently turned on his heels, transferring Tommy's chain from one hand to the other.
The catastrophe that menaced him seemed to have passed from his mind. Lilly, therefore, since time pressed and something had to be done for him, took the bit between her teeth, and reported what Miss von Schwertfeger intended to do, and what she demanded from him as the price of her silence.
Lilly was helping him, but not with that beautiful, dignified air of superiority with which she had wanted to hold out her rescuing hand. She felt she was like a playmate of his, and every few moments a half-suppressed giggle interrupted her speech.
"The worthy dame has an unconquerable desire to stand about on people's toes," said Von Prell. "But since we've gotten ourselves into a scrape, my dear little Tommy, we'll have to juggle to get ourselves out of it. Thank you very much, my lady. In accordance with your instructions I will go to her and ask her to forgive me—before going I'll oil my speaking apparatus. I will be more than repentant, I will even be roguish. That works on respectable old maids like Spanish fly. And I will use the opportunity to the best advantage for our future intercourse with each other—provided of course, my young queen agrees."
Oh, she agreed fully!
"But how will you do it?" she asked fearfully.
"Leave the matter to me," he replied. "Your duenna is a knowing old beast. But I am even more knowing. I shouldn't be surprised if to-morrow I didn't earn an occasional supper in the castle, at which I shall have the opportunity of looking into the eyes of my exalted mistress without being observed by the two High Mightinesses."
There were several things in his speech that grated on Lilly. He might make merry as much as he pleased at Miss von Schwertfeger's expense, but the colonel stood on too high a plane to be the butt of his ridicule. And now that Von Prell was out of danger, it occurred to Lilly for the first time how detestable his conduct had been, and how lacking in character she was to be sauntering about with him in the dark, laughing at his sallies.
"One moment, Mr. von Prell," she said. "I warned you of the danger you were in, because I thought I owed it to our former friendship. But now that I have told you, we have nothing more to do with each other. My time is up. Good evening, Mr. von Prell."
With that she hurried on ahead along the obscure wood path, and gave no look around. Suddenly she felt something soft and warm and living slip between her feet. She screamed and turned about for Von Prell's help. At the same instant a chain wound itself about her ankle, and held her fast.
Since she and Von Prell had turned back, the dog in his eagerness to get home, had been straining on the chain with all his might, and had taken her hastening off as a signal to break away, thus entangling himself in her dress. The more he tugged the more painfully the chain cut into her flesh.
That made an end of Lilly's ire.
Von Prell had to kneel and hold down the unruly little animal, while he unwound the chain from her ankle.
"Tommy, Tommy, what have we done? We have grievously hurt our noble mistress. We can't be blamed for pulling at our chains, but if in doing so we get under people's skirts, we give great offence. Shame on you, you rascal."
He planted a kiss on the dog's pointed little snout.
"Doesn't he ever bite?" asked Lilly with interest.
"He has had the benefit of a rigorous military training, as a result of which he has grown accustomed to kisses."
Another burst of gaiety. Von Prell held the struggling little ball of wool up to Lilly, and asked whether she would like to try a kiss, too.
Laughing she declined, and, laughing, she went home with him.
Characterless as she was.
Still laughing aloud, she entered the lighted hall of the castle, where Miss von Schwertfeger met her with great reproachful eyes.
"Where have you been, my dear?" she asked, evidently prepared to meet the grave situation in a mild spirit, while subjecting Lilly, none the less, to a keen cross-examination.
"He's so funny!" Lilly sang out, hiding her face red with laughter on Miss von Schwertfeger's shoulder.
"Did you—"
"Of course I did. Do you suppose I'd leave such a delightful, jolly old friend of mine in the lurch?"
Miss von Schwertfeger's face became rigid.
Lilly gave herself a little shake and uttered a joyous gurgle. Then she ran off to her room, undressed, and burying her head in the pillows laughed herself to sleep.
In laughter it began, and in laughter continued.
When Lilly awoke the next morning she saw that everything about her, the chandelier, the washstand, and the pretty, sentimental gleaner on the wall, had assumed a new aspect, and the sun was shining twice as brightly.
She stepped to the mirror in her nightgown, and forthwith had to laugh again at the reflection she saw there, a veritable street Arab's face with sly, darting eyes and saucy nose.
At breakfast she fairly sparkled with playful conceits, chased the stiff-legged colonel about the table, and felt a warm sense of gratitude toward Miss von Schwertfeger rise within her.
As for Miss von Schwertfeger, she smiled to herself significantly; and when the colonel left the room, caught Lilly by her ears, kissed her on her forehead, and said:
"You baby, you."
She made no reference to the confession Lilly had let slip that she and Von Prell were old friends. In fact, to judge by her manner, you might suppose she had not heard it.
Lilly ran up to her balcony, pushed aside the creepers, and sent a summoning nod to Von Prell, who was walking up and down uncertainly between the castle and the lodge.
He understood, bowed, and disappeared in the direction of the terrace steps.
What took place between him and Miss von Schwertfeger remained a secret; and there was no finding out whether or no she had questioned him in regard to his former relations with the colonel's wife. But whatever the doubts on that score, the success of his interview was indisputable. So far from having to slink away from the place, he appeared at the supper table that very same day, ushered in by the colonel himself. In his striped coat, white waistcoat and high collar, in which his face lay almost buried, and wearing his most respectful expression, he was the very embodiment of correctness.
"I heard," said the colonel, leading him to Lilly, "that Mr. von Prell doesn't feel entirely happy over there in the lodge. If you have no objections he will come to meals oftener after this."
Lilly hadn't the slightest objections. The thought, however, that Katie would appear in the doorway the next instant almost choked her. But another maid took Katie's place in handing old Ferdinand the dishes. Lilly gave Miss von Schwertfeger a questioning look, which she answered in a whisper, so as not to be overheard by the gentlemen:
"The poor girl got very sick, and asked for a long leave of absence. Most likely she will never come back again."
In her gratification Lilly impetuously pressed Miss von Schwertfeger's hand under the table. She had a dim idea that Katie had been dismissed in order to spare her the repugnance of witnessing something impure.
The gentlemen without delay plunged deep into a discussion of the cavalry, richly interlarding their talk with proper names.
Mr. von Prell sat inclined toward the colonel to take in the instructions of his old commander, and kept blinking his lids in respectful attention. The colonel dominated like a wrathful god. He spoke gruffly and noisily and shot out his dagger glances as if to mow down rank after rank of the enemy's army. But this was nothing else than a craftsman's vain joy in his work.
Lilly listened, and would gladly have taken part in the conversation, but the men had forgotten her presence, and a jealous gloom clouded her spirit, for which she did not know whether to blame the colonel or Von Prell.
When Von Prell rose to take leave the colonel laying his hand on the young man's shoulder said:
"See here, why haven't we done this before?" The glance he sent Lilly seemed to signify: "Such an amount of caution was really unnecessary."
When the first cool days in September brought on the colonel's gout again, and his visits to town had to be postponed indefinitely, Von Prell's invitations to supper grew more frequent.
The colonel groaned and cursed each time he mounted a horse, though he refused to listen to Lilly when she pled with him to give up his morning gallop.
"Too bad all of you are always so dreadfully concerned about me," she observed, "because sometimes I might take your place in riding about the country."
The colonel and his housekeeper exchanged looks.
"After all, it's a shame she can't ride horseback. Any decent sort of a riding master might take her in hand. My morning excursion is more than enough for me. What do you think, Anna, can we entrust her to that humbug Von Prell?"
Lilly's face lighted up with joy. Miss von Schwertfeger let her eyes rest on her glowing cheeks and said very slowly, as if to chew the cud of every word:
"You know Von Prell is reckless. What if he should bring our darling back to us some day with broken bones? At all events, it seems to me, before deciding, we had better consider the matter carefully."
Though Lilly took good care not to utter a syllable expressive of desire or opposition, she was not successful, apparently, in concealing her secret wishes; for the next time they were alone together, Miss von Schwertfeger suddenly took Lilly's face between her hands and said:
"Get rid of the idea, darling. Do. Believe me, it's better so."
About this time Lilly made a remarkable and somewhat suspicious find. She enjoyed going on expeditions of discovery through the spacious castle, only part of which was inhabited; and on one occasion while rummaging about in one of the third-story guest rooms, now seldom used, she extracted from a chiffonier a light gauze shirt, covered with silver spangles and shot with silver thread, resembling the shirt she had often had to wear during the Dresden stay before going to bed. Her own shirt these days hung undisturbed in her closet, from which it had not been removed even for Miss von Schwertfeger's inspection, because Lilly was a little ashamed of it.
Her curiosity was piqued by the vestment she had found, and folding it carefully she went down to question her friend about it.
Miss von Schwertfeger was sitting over her account books, and scarcely looked up when Lilly entered. But suddenly the gleam of the tinsel in the sunlight attracted her attention. A quiver ran through her body. Her eyes widened, her figure stiffened, as if she were looking at a ghost.
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" laughed Lilly.
"I thought I had cleared up thoroughly," she said, shaking herself.
She snatched the garment from Lilly's hand, wrapped it up in a piece of paper, and carried it to the kitchen, followed by Lilly, who saw a whirl of smoke carry bits of silver thread up the hearth chimney.
Old Maggie stood by looking in bewilderment from one to the other. She seemed to know what the discovery involved, but later, when Lilly tried to extract information from her, she had lost her faculty of speech.
"I didn't always use to be just where the colonel was," she stuttered. "Ask Miss von Schwertfeger. She knows. She'll tell you."
But Miss von Schwertfeger would not tell. She went about with compressed lips, gave short answers when spoken to, and kept her extinct eyes fastened upon empty space.
One evening at supper, her demeanour, apparently from no external cause, underwent a sudden change. She laughed, chatted, was tender to Lilly, and attentive to her master, pitying him on account of his pain, suggesting new remedies, and obtaining his promise to give up his morning ride.
"By the way," she went on, "as to Lilly's taking riding lessons, I've thought it over carefully, and have come to the conclusion that if we are present—at first, at least—we may entrust her to the young man."
Lilly fetched a deep sigh of joy; but the two pairs of eyes could not have detected the trace of a smile on her face, the faintest glimmer of delight, so well had she learned to keep herself under control.
The next morning the riding lessons began, with the colonel and Miss von Schwertfeger, of course, in attendance.
Walter von Prell appeared in riding boots and a jockey's cap. The forward inclination of the upper part of his body seemed to signify, "I am awaiting orders," and his respectfulness and obsequiousness kept him shifting from one foot to the other.
For the first essay they had chosen a lamblike grey mare, narrow-chested and somewhat overtrained in the fore-hand, yet a smart, well-fed animal.
Mr. von Prell proceeded very methodically to explain the construction of the saddle and bridle, showed Lilly how the girths are buckled, how the snaffle and curb rein have to lie, and how to keep the curb chain from choking the horse.
Next came learning how to mount. When Lilly for the first time put her foot on his interlaced fingers she felt a warm thrill to the very back of her neck, as if this contact with him were a sign of secret understanding between them.
"One, two, three," he counted, and there she was in the saddle.
The colonel clapped his hands in approval, and Walter von Prell blushed with pride to the roots of his blond hair.
From now on he had the game in his hands.
"Who'd have thought that blusterer has such a lot of pedantry in his make-up?" said the colonel turning to Miss von Schwertfeger, who nodded silently and took a deep breath, as if something were oppressing her.
By the time Lilly was ready to dismount, she had learned how to draw in the reins and slacken them and to turn to the right or the left; and she had even ventured a trot about the yard. In short, as the colonel good-humouredly remarked, "She was on the road to becoming the most dashing horsewoman in the army."
The lessons followed in quick succession. Either Miss von Schwertfeger or the colonel was always present, and there was no opportunity for private conversation between Lilly and Von Prell.
Von Prell maintained his stiff, abject obsequiousness, while Lilly burned with the desire to see his waggery flash up in a look or word intelligible to her alone.
One day, it chanced, both guards were absent.
The colonel was busied with the construction of a riding-ring, in which his gout might defy the inclemencies of the weather, and Miss von Schwertfeger was nowhere to be found.
Lilly's heart beat violently when she met her friend, and the smile with which she held out her hand to him, expressed uneasy triumph.
He responded with a sly thrust of his tongue in the direction of the terrace, where her honour was wont to stand.
"She couldn't be found anywhere," whispered Lilly.
"Whatwill we do?" he moaned, wringing his hands. "Why, without the worthy dame's protection we shan't even be able to mount."
Deep blue heavens arched above. A cool breeze, heavy with the smell of freshly turned soil, blew across the courtyard.
He pointed with a wily look to the open gate.
She laughed and nodded assent.
The next minute she was galloping at his side along the grassy wood path, where no Argus eyes could follow her, in utter abandon, inwardly exulting and eagerly expectant of mad pranks to be played.
Von Prell, for his part, seemed indisposed to avail himself of his unhoped for liberty. He held his eyes fixed on the road in front, every now and then caught at her reins, regulated the length of the stirrup, and made her sit better in the saddle. He was the riding master, nothing else.
"How's Tommy?" she asked at length, bored.
"Tommy sends his regards," he replied, without removing his gaze from the road, "and says we'd better pay attention to nothing but the horses to-day, because if something should happen we'd never be allowed to go out again."
"And I send my regards to Tommy, and tell him he's a goose."
"I will without fail," he rejoined, and nodded his riding crop.
They now entered a grove of birch trees, where the ground was somewhat boggy and demanded added attention.
But Lilly had eyes for nothing but the silvery gleam of the trunks and the golden webs which quivered in the wind and floated down on her cheeks.
"Oh, see how beautiful!" she said with a blissful sigh.
"Walk your horse, please."
A demon took possession of Lilly. Touching her horse with her crop she went off in a mad gallop that was contrary to all the rules and regulations of horseback riding.
The next instant, however, Von Prell was at her side gripping her reins and pulling up both horses.
They looked at each other with flashing eyes.
Lilly felt she had to throw herself over toward him just to be nearer to him.
"Say, Lilly, what do you mean by that?" he hissed.
She started and showed her white teeth.
"Say, Walter, what do you mean by that?" she retorted.
They turned the horses' heads and rode back home slowly, in silence, without looking at each other.
The threshing machine had been singing its autumn song for many a day. Its monotonous whirr could be heard far beyond the castle court. It carried no message of golden blessings or glowing crystallised sunlight. From morning till late at night it moaned and howled like an æolian harp in stormbeaten branches; and sometimes soft, long-drawn cries burst from its entrails, as if the sheaves it was torturing and tearing had been endowed with speech.
So much dreamy bliss dwelt again in Lilly's soul that she got nothing but allurement and yearning from this music, which entirely obsessed her in her morning slumber and kept her lying in bed a long time in a drowsy half-sleep the better to listen to its even, unvarying singsong.
All the while she thought of him.
A comrade, a playmate, that was what she had needed all along, some one in whose company to make merry and complain, some one who would confess all his follies, his most secret sins, and then receive laughing absolution. For whatever his crime, he was not the guilty one; his youth was the sinner, the same sweet, mischievous youth which filled her soul with melancholy and her body with shuddering, which dominated them both like a beneficent yet tormenting divinity, who favoured the one and ruined the other.
He had to be saved—saved from his own frivolity, from that fatal condition of his soul which threatened to entangle and choke him in a net of vulgar escapades. Rumours of the low life he was leading kept cropping up not to be silenced, and she needed but to step inside the servants' hall for a stream of gossip to come gushing over her like a jet of dirty water.
Her first intervention was to be only the beginning of the great mission she had to perform in his life. She would be his good genius, walking before him and holding up her hands against every evil temptation, until he had become as pure, as undesirous as herself.
Thus she dreamed to the accompaniment of the threshing machine.
The first ride beyond the castle gates, though taken without permission, had been approved, even commended; and others were to follow. But Lilly hesitated. She wanted to learn a decent canter, she said, before venturing upon new roads. As a matter of fact, she was burning with eagerness for another such hour in Von Prell's company, and merely lacked the courage to bring it about.
The morning after that first ride he was the same cringing riding master as before, outdoing himself in respectfulness and over-polite while rigorous in imparting instruction. Lilly had fully expected he would whisper a familiar word hinting at the day before, a soft "Lilly." There was plenty of opportunity, but nothing of the sort took place.
The next few lessons went in the same fashion. Neither Lilly nor Von Prell thought of leaving the courtyard. But one day the decree went forth from the colonel himself.
"Enough of this hopping about on the gravel. Get out of here and air yourselves in the wind of the fields."
"At your command, Colonel," said Von Prell, touching his cap. He rode his horse up to Lilly's and gently steered both of them out of the gate.
Her heart stood still. She forgot to say good-by to the colonel, she was so preoccupied with anticipation of the pleasure in store for her.
They went the same road that had brought her the great experience of the week before.
The willows dripped with dew and at the slightest touch showered down a rain of drops. Lilly laughed and shook herself. Instead of joining in, he guided his horse to the edge of the road, leaving the middle to her.
"But Iwantto get wet," she said.
"As my lady says," he replied, stiff as a poker in his stupid, artificial respect.
Then they rode on in silence.
When they reached the spot where the great event had occurred which gave the lie to his present behaviour, she ventured to send him a furtive sidelong glance. But he did not respond, seeming not to have noticed her look. His jockey cap pulled close over his head down to the back of his neck, his thin, tightly-drawn face, sprinkled with dewdrops, his boyish body, all muscle and bone, he sat on his saddle as if he and his horse were one.
"How I love him, in spite of everything, the dear little fellow," she thought, and pictured to herself how horribly abandoned she would feel if ever he were to leave the place. And it became clear as day to her that the gay excitement in her soul, the sense of abundance in her life here where she dwelt, had arisen from nothing else than his always, always being near by.
They rode along at an even gait. The brown ridges bordering the opposite bank of the stream drew nearer and nearer. Von Prell seemed to be making for them, but this did not serve her purpose, because the hour for a frank talk had struck.
To-day or never!
She made a great effort to go over in her mind what she would say to him. But her thoughts were incoherent. She had to keep her attention fixed on the horse; and so long as she remained in the saddle she felt herself too much under Von Prell's control.
Summoning all her courage she asked:
"Can't we dismount?"
He paused to consider, but she had jumped from her horse already, and he had just time enough to grasp the mare's snaffle. He reprimanded her, though in the end he had to yield.
They walked side by side, Von Prell leading both horses.
The path led through a stone pit sparsely grown with oak trees and alders. Golden marigold buttons dotted the marshy spots, and the bur-reed stretched out its bristly fruit on crinkled arms. Reddish dock raised its aging stalk and the floating grass was drawing in its blades in expectation of approaching autumn.
A mountain-ash, felled by a storm, stretched diagonally from the side of the road across the ditch. Its purplish red clusters of berries glowed like flames which by right should have been extinguished long ago, but which a mysterious life-force kept feeding.
"I'd like to sit here," said Lilly
He bowed.
"If you please."
"But you must sit down, too."
"I must hold the horses, my lady."
"You can tie them to a tree."
He considered a while.
"I can," he said, and tied the reins about the stump of the fallen tree.
When he was about to sit down next to her, she moved nearer to the middle of the trunk to make room for him, and she sat with her feet dangling over the ditch water.
He shoved himself after her, swinging his upper body between his arms, which held him like props.
"No further," she said. She did not want him too close to her.
"At my lady's service," he answered, and kicked his heels.
The grotesque stiffness of his speech annoyed her.
"Don't you know a better way of addressing me when we are alone?" she asked, looking him full in the face.
"I do, but I mustn't"
"And last time—how about then?"
"It happened to be my birthday," he replied, "and I wanted a pretty gift, so I presented that to myself."
"And to-day's my birthday," she laughed. "What will you present me with?"
"Whatever my lady wishes."
"Call me comrade."
"Once or always?"
"Always."
"Justsaycomrade, or be comrade, too?"
"Be, be, be," she cried. "The being is the chief thing."
"Agreed!" he said, cautiously sliding his right hand along the swaying trunk.
"Agreed!" she said, and they shook hands on it.
"There's something else to be passed upon in connection with this," he observed, and cleared his throat.
"What's that?"
"Is this comradeship to be accompanied or not to be accompanied by the use of the first name?"
"Not," rejoined Lilly, thinking she had made a great sacrifice.
He took the prohibition at its face value and said obediently:
"As my comrade wishes."
Now her time had come. Lilly drew in a deep breath and said:
"I have something very serious to say to you, Mr. Von Prell."
He seemed to suspect evil.
"Ouch," he said, and bit his gloved thumb.
Lilly began. She would say absolutely nothing about that affair with Katie, even though it was very dreadful, because what is to be forgiven must also be forgotten. But if he thought the life he had been leading ever since he had come to Lischnitz had remained a secret, he was greatly mistaken. Even the scrubbing women laughed at him behind his back. But he couldn't expect anything else, if he—and she recounted the list of his sins, which, in spite of herself, had reached her ears from the servants' hall.
Lilly was ashamed of what she said. She had meant to speak of entirely different things—of the loftiness of human existence, of the greatness of self-abnegation, of keeping oneself pure for the sake of genuine feelings, of the mysterious spiritual union of the elect on earth, and much more in the same strain. But when she saw him, as he sat there with his back curved and his feet turned inward, causing bulbs to appear and disappear on the soft leather of his riding boots where they covered his big toes, nothing better occurred to her.
He did not interrupt her.
When she had concluded he maintained silence and occupied himself with following the movements of an insect which was wriggling in the dark, slimy water of the ditch.
"Have you nothing to say," she asked, "after I have reproached you with such disgraceful behaviour?"
"What should I have to say?" he asked in turn. "My one claim to celebrity is my being a man utterly devoid of moral fibre. Should I lose that one claim, too?"
"If you have nothing within yourself to hold you up, lean on me," she cried, glowing with eagerness. "Let me be your friend, your adviser, your—"
"Foster-father," he suggested, and swished about the slime with his crop.
She realised that everything she said was lost on him; that he even seized whatever opportunity offered to make merry at her expense.
"Please get up and let me by," she said. "Why should I cast what is best in me before one who is unworthy?"
He made no movement to leave his seat.
"Look, comrade," he said, pointing to the dark, mirror-like surface of the water. "A water spider is gliding about there all the time with its legs up and its head down. If you were to ask it why, it would say it doesn't know how to glide differently. That's its nature. What's to be done?"
"A man can restrain himself," she cried, flaring up and casting indignant glances at him. "A man can look up to heights, to an ideal. He can listen to the advice of a friend who means well by him—that's what he can do."
"And what does his friend advise?" he asked flatteringly, while swinging himself nearer.
But this time she did not answer. She covered her face with her hands and cried, cried so that her body shook with sobs.
"For God's sake, sit still," he exclaimed, stretching his arms about her in a wide circle, for she was in danger of losing her balance on the slim, swaying trunk of the mountain-ash. "Do sit still, Lilly, else you'll fall into the water."
She shuddered. She heard nothing of what he said except that sweet, secret, criminal "Lilly," for which she had been longing the whole week.
Then he promised her everything she wanted of him. He wouldn't run after any more servant girls, he wouldn't spend nights boozing with the inspector and the bookkeeper, he wouldn't—oh, what wouldn't he do, if only she stopped crying.
"Your word of honour?" she said, raising her wet, reddened eyes.
"My word of honour," he replied without an instant's hesitation.
She smiled at him, happy and grateful.
"You won't regret it," she said. "I'll be close at hand, I'll be your friend, I will do whatever I can."
"And whatever the two High Mightinesses permit," he added.
This time the epithet "High Mightinesses" did not annoy her. She shrugged her shoulders and said: "Oh, they—yes, of course."
Then they both laughed till they came near falling into the ditch after all.
Delightful times followed. A game of hide-and-seek with herself, a long-drawn draught from an unfailing fount of expectancy, anticipation, delicious aftertaste and joyous recollections. Each day brought new pleasures and untold wealth.
Sometimes when Lilly threw open the shutters in the morning and the fresh red September air flowed in over her she felt as if God had spread a mantle of sunny gold over the heavens to wrap both of them in, so snug and close that the whole world disappeared, leaving no one but themselves behind, pressed against each other in laughter and drunk with all that light.
She felt she was growing more beautiful from day to day and emanated a sort of radiance which caused all who met her to look up with a smile of astonishment and satisfaction, mingled, however, with a touch of melancholy, such as always comes over us when we see a human being or a flower developing too happily, too proudly for its glory to endure.
The two High Mightinesses did not keep their eyes closed, either.
The colonel found no formula for such symptoms in his store of experiences. Had Lilly gone about downcast, staring dreamily into space, had she crept about him timidly, had she wavered between ardour and estrangement, his suspicions would have grown lively. He would have begun to sound and spy on her. But it was not in his power to discern aught else than increased spiritual well-being in her pliable, blissful tenderness.
So he smirked complacently at the harmless gaiety his young wife radiated, and with paternal calm accepted the lavish caresses, which served as an outlet for her overwrought ecstasy.
Anna von Schwertfeger shared no less benevolently in Lilly's happiness. She seemed to harbour as little suspicion as the colonel that a third person was playing a part in her life. Otherwise she would scarcely have viewed the growing frequency with which the two young people met with such unbegrudging kindliness.
Often after supper she drew Lilly into the room on the ground floor, where she dwelt amid her account books. A genuine old maid's home, with canary birds, flower pots, faded family photographs, and all sorts of gilt and china knick-knacks, remnants of past glory such as are handed down from generation to generation in families of decayed gentlefolk.
At other times she came gliding into Lilly's bedroom at an incredibly late hour, seated herself on the edge of the bed, and did not stir until she heard the sound of the colonel's carriage coming from the station.
The two women would plunge into profound conversations concerning life and death, solitary old age and overflowing youth, the measure God has set for each mortal, and the misfortune of trying to exceed that measure. Anna von Schwertfeger no longer pried or warned, yet her fashion of hopping from subject to subject, of heedlessly expressing an opinion the very reverse of one she had uttered a moment before, seemed sufficient reason for supposing that her mind was occupied with very, very different things.
Often while her speech flowed on monotonously Lilly would be astonished to look up and find her eyes resting on her intently, almost apprehensively. Then again Lilly would feel herself stroked and kissed with such pitying inwardliness that she herself was touched, and later, when left alone, she began to feel afraid of the dark, as if a menacing fate were crouching at the bottom of her bed ready to pounce on her and choke her.
But from where was misfortune to drop on her? Wasn't she more securely stowed away than ever before in her life? Whom did she deceive? Wherein did she sin? Even if the few little secrets binding her to Walter should be discovered, how would she be punished? She would simply get a fine sermon like a naughty child, nothing worse.
Thus she comforted herself before the aftertaste of Miss von Schwertfeger's late visits was dispelled by new dreams of happiness.
September neared its end.
Lilly went horseback riding with Von Prell almost every day, or she met him at twilight, as if by chance, in deserted parts of the park. They would spy each other strolling about some one of the various places they had fixed upon once for all. Then there was the pea-shooter to fall back upon in case different arrangements had to be made.
Von Prell had brought the convenient instrument from the city, and it reposed innocently in a corner of Lilly's balcony, to all appearances nothing more than a superfluous curtain-rod. It enabled her to blow whatever message she wanted through the foliage on the balcony directly into his open window.
Sometimes it was only "Good morning, comrade," sometimes the hour of meeting, or sometimes a harmless jest, the outgrowth of a moment's exuberance.
On the evenings the colonel remained at home Von Prell was usually invited to supper. Though he then assumed his according-to-rules-and-regulations stiffness, the opportunity for a little byplay was now always afforded.
Neither Lilly nor Von Prell moved a muscle and the two High Mightinesses sat there unsuspecting.
But Lilly had a rival whom she feared and detested, because that rival had the power to draw her "comrade's" attention from her for hours at a time. The mere mention of the rival's name sufficed to reduce Lilly to the position of nothing but a lay figure. The rival was—the regiment.
The time of the autumn manœuvres had come, and both gentlemen read the papers with feverish interest to see what part was being taken by their former regiment.
One evening they sent off a picture postal with congratulations to the regiment. Two days later the reply came, also on a postal, all scribbled over with names which it required a vast effort to decipher.
Three remained illegible, or, rather, inexplicable, until all of a sudden Walter lit upon the solution: Von Holten, Dehnicke, Von Berg, summer lieutenants, who had been called into service for the manœuvres and had signed their names along with the other officers.
All but one of the names fell upon Lilly's ear unheeded. "Dehnicke" struck her as a little odd, because its bourgeois simplicity did not seem to chime in well with the ringing charm of the old patrician names.
The greeting from out of his past had no benign influence on the colonel's mood. He grew taciturn, then surly; and Lilly caught a sidelong glance of his fixed on her, which caused her to start in terror, it was so wildly, fiercely reproachful.
Thereafter his visits to the neighbouring garrison town grew more frequent, and despite his painful gout he never refused an invitation to join a hunt.
It was the first Sunday in October.
The colonel had left at dawn to go to a neighbour with the intention of not returning until late at night.
A soft grey mist shot with violet suggestions of the sun lay over the ground when Lilly, bored and writhing internally, came out of church on Miss von Schwertfeger's arm.
The sunflowers in the tenants' gardens were already sinking their singed heads and the asters showed signs of having suffered from the murderous blows of Jack Frost.
But the air was as sweet and spicy as in spring, and from the fields came a singing as of meadow larks.
"Such a day, such a day!" thought Lilly, and stretched herself in a vague yearning for secret conversation and glad pranks.
She must have thought a little too loud, for Miss von Schwertfeger asked:
"What's the matter with to-day?"
"I don't know," replied Lilly, blushing. "I feel as if it were some festival."
Miss von Schwertfeger looked at her askance and said, emphasising each word:
"I should like to make a festival of it for myself and visit a friend of mine in the city. But the colonel is away and I don't know—"
Lilly started so violently that she lost her breath for an instant. But she mastered herself cleverly and began to persuade Miss von Schwertfeger, first speaking coolly, then more warmly and urgently. She needed a little outing; she hadn't left the place all summer; she lived like a prisoner, and ought to grant herself at least one hour of freedom.
Miss von Schwertfeger nodded meditatively, and that glassy stare came into her eyes which always discomfited Lilly.
At the midday meal, which the two took in each other's company, she was still undecided; but as soon as they rose from table she ordered the carriage to be brought around and drove off without saying good-by.
Lilly, who watched her departure, ran for the pea-shooter. The foliage of the creepers still hedged in her little domain so perfectly that Von Prell could not see her. But she could see him as he sat at the open window brooding over a book with a deep fold between his brows.
"My good influence," thought Lilly triumphantly, and it almost made her feel sorry to tear him away from so salutary an occupation.
The inspector and the bookkeeper were walking up and down near the lodge smoking their Sunday afternoon cigarettes.
So more than ordinary caution was necessary.
The pellet containing her missive hit Von Prell's forehead, rebounded, and fell on the grass outside the window.
Von Prell had himself so well in hand that he even refrained from looking up to show he understood. After a while, however, he let the book fall out of the window as if by accident, and then got up to fetch it with an indifferent air.
Half an hour later they met behind the carp pond.
He was wearing a new black and white checked fall suit, similar to the one the fateful stranger in the railroad train had worn.
"You're entirely too elegant," Lilly joked. "I'd rather not be in your company to-day."
"That would be a sin and a shame," he observed. "I had these trappings constructed extra for to-day."
"Why for to-day?"
"Because to-day's our festival."
"How did that occur to you?" she faltered, startled that their thoughts had taken the same course.
"Oh, a person gets notions," he replied, and smiled significantly.
Under the same impulse they took the path leading to the beech grove which they had wandered through on the first evening of their renewed friendship.
"How's Tommy?" Lilly asked, recollecting the third party to the alliance.
"He bit away the flooring in my room and dug a hole for himself, where he snarls like an eagle-owl. I shouldn't advise you to stick your wedding-ring finger into his hole. You might suddenly lose your ring and your finger, too."
"Why have you let him get so wild?" she asked reproachfully.
"Why have I let myself get so wild?" he retorted.
"Well, you're growing tame again," replied Lilly, caressing him with her eyes. His recent tameness was all her doing.
"Do you think so?" he asked, and drew his brows together masterfully, as in his lieutenant days.
"Haven't I your word of honour?" she exulted.
"Pshaw!"
Lilly basked in the superbness of her mission of salvation.
"No matter how much you disdain my influence," she replied, "everybody sees that a change has taken place in you. Mr. Leichtweg says you're always the first to begin work now. You've borrowed that great book on agriculture from the colonel—it impressed him tremendously—and Miss von Schwertfeger said a little while ago you always look so appetizing now. Yes, Mr. von Prell, I take the credit for all this, and if things continue the same way we shall remain good friends."
"Apropos of appetizing," he said, "your neck beginning back of your ears is all covered with tiny, silky hairs. Do you know from what that comes?"
"Oh, nonsense," Lilly exclaimed, blushing. "Why? Do you know?"
"A wise man has theories. For instance, observe this plot of grass." He pointed to a clearing below them, through which a rill trickled, and which was closely grown with tender, juicy grass of a vivid green. "From the way it looks you'd suppose it was still spring. Until late in the summer that plot stood under water, and the spots that least often or never get dry grow the finest down—that's nature."
Lilly was on the point of taking his botany lesson in earnest when she chanced to notice the wicked grimace he was making. Then she understood the shameless allusion and had to laugh over it helplessly.
"Listen, baronissima, how about playing tag? We owe it to the circulation of your excellency's blood."
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when with a blithe shout she darted off down the slope, the bottom of which was lost in the purple darkness of autumn. But at the end of a short stretch she tripped over the Scotch plaid she had taken along and had refused to let Von Prell carry. She fell full length and he came just in time to help her to her feet.
This having spoiled Lilly's taste for tag they mounted the hill like well-behaved children.
Here their eyes could travel over a rippling lake of leaves far, far away. The beeches glowed a deep red, the maples danced in all the colours of the rainbow, the birches quivered with bright flames, the elm flaunted its flakes of gold, while the oak alone obstinately retained its green garb of summer.
Lilly stared into the violet-veiled distance.
The sun hid itself behind gold-rimmed clouds, from which fiery tracks descended to earth. A narrow band of scarlet edged the horizon.
"Shall we sit down here?" asked Von Prell.
"No, not here," said Lilly, seized with a vague dread. "I'll begin to cry here."
She ran ahead of him, back into the woods, and came again upon the path leading along the rill.
Here the darkness of evening prevailed, but the sun-charm in which they had been enveloped worked its magic here, too, and filled her heart with a happy devoutness.
Oh, how happy she was! How happy she was!
No fear and no danger so far as her thoughts could reach; and no danger from her own heart, for the man walking by her side was her friend and playmate, nothing more. He might not and could not be anything else. No secret wish, no distorted desire came from him or went to meet him.
Everything uniting him to her was clear and transparent as sunlight. Even if the others must not have a suspicion of their intercourse, there was no sin in it—only salvation for him and laughter for her and youth for both.
She felt a warm-hearted impulse to take his hand, but fearing to be misunderstood she checked herself.
Thus they walked at each other's side to the spot where the rill was caught up in a rotting wooden conduit, from which it spouted with a soft singsong.
Withered ferns covered the light green moss with their ragged red fronds and tired leaves came fluttering down out of the beech trees.
"Let us rest here," suggested Lilly.
"But it's damp."
"We'll spread the plaid," she said eagerly, taking the blanket from him—he had managed to snatch it away from her—and threw it over the fern stalks, which cracked under the weight.
She sat down on the right side of the plaid and invited him to make use of the left side, to keep his fine new suit clean.
"Do you hear the vesper bells?" he asked. "We ought to be eating supper now."
"We poor church mice, we have nothing," she laughed.
"Who told you so?" he asked, triumphantly producing a small paper package from his pocket, which contained a mashed, crumbly piece of cake. They laid it between them and ate the morsels from their hollowed hands, laughing all the while. The cake tasted like sweet wine, and Lilly felicitously hit upon its correct name, punch-tart, of which she was especially fond.
"The English call it tipsy-cake," he explained. "It quite befuddles one."
"That amount of intoxication I'll risk," she laughed, and threw herself on her back, folding her hands behind her head.
She lay there a time without moving and looked up to the sky, of which jagged oval bits shimmered through the foliage. Rosy flakes swam in the opalescent ether, and way beyond appeared the vault of another heaven, which in some places burst through the nearer sky like a deep blue foreboding.
Lilly stretched her arms upward yearningly.
"Do you want to catch the larks?" he asked.
No, not that, but she would like to have one of the falling leaves.
They kept dropping, dropping from the boughs like birds with broken wings, and fluttered over the ground in little spirals, as if undecided where to rest.
"We'll see to which of us the first one comes," he said, and also stretched himself on his back.
"The one to whom a leaf comes first will be blessed with a great piece of good fortune," she added.
They lay still and waited.
At last one floated toward him and prepared to settle on his nose.
But he would not permit this—hers must be that great piece of good fortune—and he blew the leaf back to her.
She in turn was too proud to accept so munificent a gift and blew it back to him.
Thus laughing and tossing themselves about, they kept the leaf whirling between them, and suddenly in the heat of the struggle their lips touched—touched and would not separate.
The next instant they held each other in close embrace, and the instant after she was his.
The rill purled, the leaves fell as before. But a fiery mist lay upon the earth, and all over small suns winked rainbow coloured eyes.
Why had it happened?
She fell back without thinking and noticed that the heavens above were also clothed in fire.
Her comrade sat beside her with his back curved like a berated schoolboy and rubbed his nails against one another.
"Oh, let's go home," said Lilly, downheartedly.
"As my lady commands," he replied, grotesquely respectful again.
She laughed a weary, mirthless laugh.
Apparently he was concerned with getting rid of what had happened as speedily as possible.
"Oh, now it's all the same," she sighed; "now we can quite calmly call each other by our first names."
First came dread, the same senseless dread that had dominated Lilly's being before her engagement. It stiffened her limbs, bound her arms to her body, crippled her knees, beat against the walls of the veins in her neck and created a black void in her brain.
But after she had gone through the first meeting with Von Prell and nothing fateful occurred, her fear died down and what remained was a searching attentiveness, a readiness to jump aside at the least sign of danger, a tense anticipation of ticklish questions to be answered properly and pitfalls to be avoided with a crafty assumption of innocence.
The colonel noticed nothing—he, the most suspicious of married men, with the keenest scent, who harboured the least illusions concerning the opposite sex, he noticed nothing. He even believed the headache myth and lavished mocking yet tender pity upon her, while he sat at her bedside laughing and helping her change the compresses that Miss von Schwertfeger had solicitously prepared.
It was more difficult for Lilly to endure the woman's caresses. Behind them lurked a squinting pair of eyes, shy, heedful, and endeavouring to look harmless, while, in spite of themselves, revealing a greedy desire to know.
The anxiety that so far as the colonel was concerned gradually lulled itself to sleep, grew sharper with regard to the self-sacrificing friend, who at any moment might become her enemy and betrayer.
Lilly did not dare to cry until night time, when she felt sure of being alone. She would jump out of bed to wash her eyes, go back to bed again and cry until sleep took her in its soothing arms.
It was not shame, nor regret, nor longing love. It was a feeling of infinite solitariness, it was a straying about in perplexity.
"What will happen now?"
For something must surely happen—confession, convent, flight together, suicide together, or one of all those events described in Mrs. Asmussen's books as following upon so atrocious a deed.
The week passed.
Lilly had arisen from her sick bed several days before, but she had not seen Von Prell. She could discover no signs of him, even when she locked all the entrances to her room and rushed to the window for a glimpse of him.
All the while the colonel kept recommending horseback riding. There was Von Prell to take her and the exercise would do her good.
At last, Saturday at dusk, she felt she had to yield—they would meet at dinner the next day at any rate.
The horses were pawing before the door.
The moment for the meeting before which she had recoiled had arrived with its threat of fresh dangers.
When she saw her friend ascend the terrace steps in his high, shiny riding boots, looking pale and thin, and moving as if by springs to display his counterfeit respect, something within her suddenly turned numb.
"Why, that young man there is an utter stranger," she felt. "He doesn't concern you in the least—you are looking upon him for the first time in your life."
They rode out of the gate.
The colonel had gone to the stables, but Miss von Schwertfeger stood on the terrace with her hands clasped and looked after them.
The road, muddy with recent rains, plashed under the horses' hoofs and a cold evening wind crinkled the winter wheat. A yellow sheen hiding the poverty-stricken sun glimmered behind the ragged birch boughs. Everything looked sad and weary. It even seemed a vain task to have sowed the winter wheat.
They trotted on side by side in silence—a long, long series of anxious moments.
"He must speak some time," thought Lilly, biting her tongue till it bled.
He kept his eyes fixed undeviatingly upon the road ahead, making only slight movements of his right hand from time to time to adjust his reins.
"He'll call me 'my lady' again," she thought, and felt ashamed in advance for both of them.
Finally she took heart and spoke to him.
"Do walk your horse," she said, almost crying.
"Of course, comrade," he replied, and reined in his chestnut.
"Comrade! Comrade!" she burst out, and passionately searched his eyes with hers.
He shrugged his shoulders, as always when he feared a scolding, and said nothing.
"Say something, won't you?" she screamed, quite beside herself.
"What should I say?" he queried, making a little gesture, as if to scratch his head. "It's a nasty business. We know it." And muttering to himself, he repeated, "Nasty business, nasty business!"
"Is that all you have to say to me?" she cried.
"My dear friend," he replied, "I am small, my heart is small. It's not a suitable spot for harbouring great anguish of the soul."
"Pshaw, who's speaking of anguish of the soul? But what's to become of us, that's what I should like to know."
"As soon as I come into possession of an unencumbered manorial estate," he replied with a gesture of invitation, "a castle, stables, vehicles and other animate and inanimate things thereunto appertaining, I shall take the liberty of applying to your husband for your hand."
This completely robbed Lilly of her self-control.
"If you keep on making such jokes," she screamed, bursting into tears, "I'll ride to death, now, before your very eyes."
"A difficult thing to do with that well-behaved nag of yours."
Lilly was at her wits' end and simply let the tears course down her cheeks in silence.
At last he changed his tone.
"Well, well, child," he said, "be sensible for a change. All I want to do is tickle the superfluous tragedy out of your soul. And as soon as you make a glad face again I'll try to give the matter most serious consideration."
Lilly wiped her tears away with the flap of her riding gauntlet and smiled at him obediently.
"Fine," he praised her. "'Twas not idle in the poet to write 'O weine selten, weine schwer. Wer Tränen hat, hat auch Malheur.' I'll tell you something. We two pretty orphans were exactly meant for each other and we've been brought together here in this enchanted castle. But we should havehadto meet, no matter where, even if we hadn't been two hearts that beat as one long before. To be accurate, the colonel married us right at the beginning, and the only shame is that your marriage contract with him wasn't drawn up accordingly. But that's not to be altered, and we shall have to get around the matter in secret ways. See here, child, we both are headed in the same direction on the sea of life. We have the same to win and the same to lose. So cheer up! Go it! We're ragtag and bobtail both of us, at any rate."
"I'm not ragtag and bobtail!" cried Lilly, flaring up. "I have pride and a sense of honour, and even if I have sinned a thousandfold, I know how to die for my sins."
"It's not so easy to die. Usually the opportunity is lacking, and when the opportunity once presents itself we show it a clean pair of heels."
Lilly felt a hot desire to protect him against the self-degradation in which he indulged.
"You don't believe what you say," she cried. "You are the boldest, the most daring of men. I know you are. Without a moment's hesitation you would face death for the sake of your honour. If you would only summon all your strength the whole world would lie at your feet. I will always keep reminding you of that. I will work over you until you get back belief in yourself, until you feel you are on the upward road. I will share all your hardships, all your temptations, and I will protect you from all evil. For what should I be here if not for you?"
She felt she was so completely his that she could have thrown herself at his horse's hoofs; and when she recalled the first moments of their meeting that day she could scarcely realise why he had seemed so repulsive and alien.
"You're a touching creature," he replied. "It's really lucky the creepers on your balcony are so thoroughly knit together."
She started.
"What do you mean by that?" she faltered, oppressed by a foreboding of ill.
"And lucky the ladder was left there. It can be leaned against the balcony and the vines can break all they want to, even Miss von Schwertfeger wouldn't notice anything amiss. Well?"
He blinked his silvery lids at her enticingly.
She did not know where to turn to hide her face from his gaze, she felt so ashamed.
"I'll never belong to you again," she cried. "I swear I won't by all the saints! I should be a thing of loathing to myself. As for you, I should utterly despise you. Pah!"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Pity to lose the opportunity," he observed, and turned the horses' heads.
He appeared at dinner the next day, virtuous in his frock-coat and black necktie. He strutted and scraped and bowed, pursed his lips in extravagant respect, and scarcely dared to take the demitasse from her hand.
But Miss von Schwertfeger's eyes passed between the two, watching and questioning.
Late that Sunday night the following occurred:
The colonel had gone off to town, Miss von Schwertfeger had retired to her room, and Lilly sat on the edge of the bed in her nightgown brushing her hair.
Suddenly she heard a gentle tapping at the window, as if the autumn wind were blowing a twig against the closed shutter. But the action of the wind is irregular, and this sound kept time—now a little louder, now a little softer—and recurred at even intervals.
It frightened her, and she wanted to run down to Miss von Schwertfeger; but she bethought herself in time. She hastily put on her dressing gown, cautiously raised the window, and opened the shutters the least bit.
At first she saw nothing.
There were no stars in the heavens and the whole of the lodge seemed buried in darkness. Then she thought she saw a staff waving up and down close to the shutter.
She opened the shutter an inch wider and recognised—the pea-shooter.
Now she knew what was up.
She jumped back and drew the bolt. Then threw herself back in bed, where she lay holding her fingers in her ears. But when she withdrew them she again heard that short, regular tapping, which now rose almost to a knocking.
The nightwatch, who made the rounds of the court and park once an hour, need only find the ladder leaning against the balcony and all was lost.
Her fright deprived her of her senses.
Trembling in every limb, she ran into her dressing room, where there was no light, and opened the balcony door about half an inch. Through the crack she whispered into the darkness:
"Go away, and never try such a thing again."
Then she listened with her ear to the opening.
Nothing to be seen or heard.
But when she wanted to close the door it would not go shut. She groped along the crack in search of the obstacle, and came upon a round, hollow, wooden something, which an invisible hand had shoved there.
The wretched pea-shooter!
She moaned and covered her face with her hands, and the next moment was hanging in his arms in a half swoon.
After that evening he had her completely in his power—defenceless, without a will of her own, at the mercy of his wishes and whims.
It was not happiness. She experienced scarcely a single transport of feeling. That came later, when she had conquered her horror of the monstrous deed, and her fear of discovery had weakened. Nothing occurred to disturb them, and Lilly expanded in a sense of defiant security.
Then it was a blissful sailing over awful abysms, a delirium of the senses, a nebulous ecstasy, a delightful writhing under lacerating blows, an ebb and flow of magnanimous scorn of self and blasphemous prayers.
Laughter came again. Not the old simple laughter that had dominated the play of her spirit until within a short time before. No, this laughter was sardonic exultation, the exultation of the hounded thief, who carries his booty off to security, behind the backs of his pursuers.
Lilly also found reasons for justifying herself.
"I am merely fulfilling my destiny. I am now getting back the possession which fate promised to me and which the old man so long kept from me."
In addition there was a redeeming element in all she did, consecrating the most arrant deception and endowing it with purity. This was the consciousness that he was being saved. Under the spell of a lofty love he would learn to scorn vulgar escapades and, borne on the wings of a woman's expiating favour, he would rise to the heights on which men and heroes dwell.
With these thoughts she drugged her conscience each time; and when he lay in her arms she gave them whispered expression—the doors were not heavy and all sounds must be muffled.
He laughed and kissed the words from her mouth. If she grew uneasy and demanded pledges, he vowed the stars out of the heaven.
Miss von Schwertfeger now never stayed in Lilly's room later than eleven o'clock. This was the hour he might come, and by half past one he had to be gone.
Of course he had to confine his visits to the evenings when the colonel went to town. On account of the time the trains ran, the colonel could not possibly return before two. Besides the carriage could be heard at some distance.
Before Walter left he had to unlock the door to the colonel's room, and smoke a cigarette to rid the atmosphere of the stable and leather smell he brought with him from his own room. For it often happened that the colonel stuck his head in before going to bed; or, if the wine had loosened his tongue, he would even awaken Lilly, seat himself at her bedside, laugh, cast about his dagger glances pick his yellow teeth, and tell the juiciest stories which had arrived fresh from the Berlin centres of obscenity and made the rounds of his club in town.
Lilly played the drowsy pussy, and purred and yawned She began to feel so secure that once she actually fell asleep right in the middle of a laugh.
Oh, if only there had been no Miss von Schwertfeger!
Not that Miss von Schwertfeger had noticed anything. The horrors of such a possibility were inconceivable. But her restless, hasty comings and goings, the almost anxious greed with which she pried about, gave sufficient cause for concern.
She looked very pale and worn, while the fleshy region about her mouth and her sharp, scenting nose glowed a still deeper red.
You might suppose she tippled in secret. But such thing would be bound to leak out, and at table scarce a drop passed her lips.
"Let her do whatever she wants to," thought Lilly, "if only she doesn't come spying on me as she did on Katie."
And sometimes it occurred to Lilly that she herself was no better than the poor maid Katie, whom they had chased from the castle.