"I heard nothing," said Helldorf.
"Oh, yes, I did, distinctly," replied Schwarz; "probably 'tis from the people, or negroes, from the house here, who may be about to light a fire to induce the passing steamer to land, and take in wood."
But the steamer engaged their whole attention for the time, and not a word more was exchanged, for the colossus rushed nearer and nearer, and close behind it followed the foaming powerful waves, and rocked and beat about the crank boat so madly and wildly, that it was only with some exertion that the three men could protect it from them. But the waves disappeared as suddenly as they came; and Helldorf took hold of the long painter, which passed through a hole forward in the bow, and was just about to make it fast to the branch of a fallen tree, when he suddenly stopped in a listening posture, with his body advanced forward, and his hand raised. Immediately afterwards, the friends looked at each other in astonishment, for angry sounds, as of persons quarrelling, were heard in that direction; these were quickly succeeded by a half-suppressed cursing and groaning, and, in the next, by the report of a shot. The sound of hoofs of galloping horses next struck on the ear; it came nearer and nearer, and, about the moment when the horsemen must have reached the open space, a smart boat, rowed by one man only, glided out into the stream.
"Massa! take me 'long with you!—for God's sake take me 'long with you!"—cried a voice from the shore. But the man in the boat did not appear to heed it, but rowed on with evident exertion, and that right across the river, in doing which he was carried a little downwards by the current, which was not very rapid in that place.
The Germans had watched the whole proceeding with the most anxious interest, and in the surprise of the moment,really hardly knew which way to turn, or what course to pursue; but Helldorf now exclaimed:—
"There's something wrong going forward here; let us go up, perhaps we may yet be of some service;" and with these words he was about to run up the river bank; at that moment there resounded across from the boat, which was already almost lost in the obscurity, a cry for help, so loud and urgent that Helldorf stopped in alarm; but Werner cried out, as he started forward:—
"That was Bertha's voice, by Heaven! Helldorf, Schwarz, if you are my friends, show it now!" and, without waiting for a reply, or caring about the wild shouts and noise which now arose on the bank of the stream, he sprang into the boat, which they had just quitted, and the two friends had scarcely time to follow him, and to resume their places, before he pushed from the shore and took to the oar with all the vigour of which he was master.
"Stay, or I fire!" cried a voice from the shore, which Werner instantly recognised as Von Schwanthal's.
"'Tis I!" he called, in reply—"I, Werner!"
"Stay, or I fire!" repeated the other, who, in his excitement, did not appear to have comprehended the words.
"Then fire, and be d——d!" growled Helldorf, who thought that they had got far enough from shore not to need to fear a shot, especially in the dark; but Von Schwanthal, who never doubted but that this boat was connected with the other, and, in his haste and excitement, not remembering that Bertha, herself, should she happen to be in it, might be hit, levelled and fired; and directly after the flash, even before the report reached them, the slugs, with which the gun had been loaded, struck in and around the pirogue, and Werner could not suppress a low cry of pain.
The second barrel missed fire.
"Are you wounded?" cried Schwarz, turning round, in alarm, towards his friend; "has that blockhead hit you?"
"Hit, certainly; but it's nothing—only grazed, I believe—for God's sake don't let us lose time—we shall be too late else—away!—yonder flies the boat, and if he once reaches the further shore, how are we to follow him?"
Schwarz and Helldorf knew but too well the truth of this remark, and, without another word, they urged on the slim canoe, which was considerably lightened by the removal of their baggage, with the speed of an arrow, through the current, after the fugitive.
FOOTNOTES:[24]The Boiler-deck, in American river steamers, is the space forward of the cabin, on the lower deck, between the two chimneys which pass up through it, and top over the hurricane deck.[25]A settler calculating on this would stand a chance of being starved.—Tr.[26]Girdling is a bad and slovenly practice, as the girdled trees, when the rest are cleared away from around them, are very liable to be blown down, and thus endanger men and animals; again, the wood gets so very hard, that it is much more difficult to cut into lengths for logging and burning, when it is blown down.—Tr.[27]A pfenning is German money, value 1/12th of a penny.—Tr.
[24]The Boiler-deck, in American river steamers, is the space forward of the cabin, on the lower deck, between the two chimneys which pass up through it, and top over the hurricane deck.
[24]The Boiler-deck, in American river steamers, is the space forward of the cabin, on the lower deck, between the two chimneys which pass up through it, and top over the hurricane deck.
[25]A settler calculating on this would stand a chance of being starved.—Tr.
[25]A settler calculating on this would stand a chance of being starved.—Tr.
[26]Girdling is a bad and slovenly practice, as the girdled trees, when the rest are cleared away from around them, are very liable to be blown down, and thus endanger men and animals; again, the wood gets so very hard, that it is much more difficult to cut into lengths for logging and burning, when it is blown down.—Tr.
[26]Girdling is a bad and slovenly practice, as the girdled trees, when the rest are cleared away from around them, are very liable to be blown down, and thus endanger men and animals; again, the wood gets so very hard, that it is much more difficult to cut into lengths for logging and burning, when it is blown down.—Tr.
[27]A pfenning is German money, value 1/12th of a penny.—Tr.
[27]A pfenning is German money, value 1/12th of a penny.—Tr.
"Massa!" said the mulatto, after he had rowed awhile, till large drops of sweat rolled down his forehead—"massa, this is confounded hard work! Shall we drink a drop?—the bottle lies beside you." And he raised his oar out of the water whilst he said these words, so that the clear drops slowly trickled from it into the stream; Dr. Normann also stopped rowing, and breathed hard.
"Confound it!" he then whispered, "this is cursed hard work! I should like you to take the oar a little. There you sit at your ease, enjoying yourself! Let me steer awhile."
Normann made this proposition more for the purpose of getting beside Bertha than to be released from the work, which, though hard, was not altogether new to him; the bold looks which the rascally Yankee now no longer turned away for a moment from the girl, did not please him, and he was less and less able to suppress a growing suspicion that the American did not mean fair play.
"Nonsense!" retorted Turner, who appeared by no means disposed to give up good-naturedly any advantage which he might have obtained. "You want to steer, do you? so that we may run foul of bushes or snags every minute, andafterwards get too late into the Mississippi—eh? No, every second is worth gold, and the change of places would occupy us too long. Row away! row away!—rest when we are once in the river!—there's no time for it now. Away!—when we're in the Mississippi,youmay steer,—a trifle either way is of no consequence there. Away, I say! or you will have no one to thank but yourself for the destruction of us all!"
The men took to their oars again in silence, and shot down stream with wonderful speed. The moon lent them her silver light; and it was not until they caught sight of the shining sheet of water, the Mississippi, that they stopped a moment to take counsel whether they should attempt the passage at once, or reconnoitre first.
Turner voted for the latter plan, and the mulatto was despatched to examine the safety of the mouth; but he returned within a few minutes, laughing, and chuckled out, shaking all the time with inward enjoyment—
"Just as I s'posed!—a confounded rough road through the woods, and the worthy Dutchmen will have a while to ride yet, before they catch sight of the shore! Well, I wish 'em joy! But now, massa, I must have a drink, by golly! or else I wont touch an oar again!"
Turner handed him over the flask in silence, but immediately turned to Normann, and said—
"Doctor, it's time that we changed places; now you may steer. But just step ashore a minute; we must bale the water out of the boat—the confounded thing leaks. Confusion! what a row those dogs are making!—and yet they're to windward of us. What the devil ails them?"
"No cons'quence," grinned the mulatto; "the people will think they are barking at the steamer that is just passing up stream. But, hallo, massa! she's going close in shore!—will make great swell."
"We had better lighten our boat," said Turner, "else we may perhaps end by getting swamped."
"There's no fear," said Normann. "With this boat, I'd row under the very paddles of the Sultana herself, and she shouldn't ship a drop!"
"Yes, when you're once out in deep water," growled Turner; "but here, so close to the mud bank, stuck all over with old snags, the devil may trust it!—it's easy work, and 'tis better to be safe! If we ship water now, who knows but that the horsemen may be upon us before we have time to bale it out again."
Without awaiting any further answer from Normann, he took Bertha's sister this time in his arms, and carried her ashore. This had the wished-for result; Normann followed quickly with Bertha, who turned her pale countenance away with a shudder, when she felt herself touched by the hands of the scoundrel; and the mulatto had to mount guard, Turner putting the painter into the doctor's hand, to hold the light vessel, whilst he himself, notwithstanding all the swaying and rocking from the swell, driven up the Halchee by the steamer, which now rushed past, baled her out. As soon as this work was concluded, he gave a gentle whistle, scarce audible, and the mulatto immediately came running down the steep river bank.
"Bring one of the girls," said Turner to him—"the eldest first: so; lay her this way. Doctor, you'll get seated between the two lasses now, only don't let them make you forget to steer." He laughed, at the same time, quietly to himself, and it struck the doctor as though he whispered a few words to the mulatto. Be that as it might, Norman's suspicions became stronger, and he was thinking of letting go the rope, and taking his place in the boat again, when the mulatto came back.
"Now, massa doctor," said the yellow fellow, showing his ivories—"take the youngest one, if you please,—I'll hold the boat so long." He took hold of the rope, and advanced the right foot. Normann stood, for a few seconds, in doubt, but then turned half aside from him, as though he were aboutto follow his advice; the half-son of Africa, too, allowed himself to be deceived, sprang rapidly towards the boat, shoved it quickly from the shore, and was just about to follow with a rapid spring, when Normann, who perhaps had a notion of something of the sort—and yet, again, could scarce believe that his own friends would leave him in the lurch in so shameful a manner—upset the well-spun scheme, by suddenly throwing himself upon, and flinging his arms round him.
"Hold, sir!" he cried—"you rascal—you! You don't escape so! Turner, you perjured villain! would you betray me?"
"Make yourself loose, Nick!" cried Turner to the mulatto—"make yourself loose!—quick! By Jove, I hear the horses! We are lost if they catch us!"
"You scoundrel! I keep you in pawn!" cried the doctor, who was now driven to extremity. "He can't get away alone, and we shall, at all events, go to the devil together!"
"Haven't you a knife about you, Nick?" exclaimed Turner. The danger increased every moment: a few minutes more must decide their fate. "Come quick!—come both of you, then, in the name of all the devils in hell!—only quickly!" he cried, at last, in a rage, for he knew how invaluable every second was. But even if he could have made the combatants comprehend his wish, Normann, after what had taken place, would not, on any account, have put himself into the hands of his treacherous companions; but as it was, neither of the two enraged men heard even a syllable of the proposal. Nick had, with infinite trouble, got his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a small pocket pistol, which he quickly and secretly turned towards the German's forehead. But this movement of his opponent had not remained unobserved by the latter, and he threw his arm upward, and struck the weapon aside, at the very moment the mulatto was pulling the trigger: the ball even grazed his ear, and thepowder singed his face. But now, driven to the extremity of rage, he no longer heard even the approaching galloping of the horses, but seizing the slim figure of the negro with all the strength he possessed, he threw him to the ground. In the same moment, the pursuers appeared on the river bank, close above the two wrestlers, and Turner's boat glided out beneath the shadow of the bushes into the Mississippi.
"Confusion!" said the Yankee, gnashing his teeth, finding he had to handle the two heavy oars in tholes which did not correspond. "Confusion seize that awkward brute of a nigger! to let himself be upset like that by a Dutchman; if they only hang the varmint, and I hear of it, that'll be some comfort! Well, my pretty, now we two must make the journey alone," he said, turning grinning to the prisoner lying before him; "didn't I tell you, my poppet, that you——"
"Help, help, here! Help!" suddenly cried with a loud voice, the unhappy girl, who had, meanwhile, with the most fearful exertions, freed herself from the gag. "Help, here! Help!"
In the next instant, the palm of the American's hand was on her lips, and he whispered to her, through his clenched teeth—
"Ho-ho! my pretty little dove, must I draw the bit a little tighter? So," he continued, whilst he made any further attempt at screaming futile, by a large woollen cloth—"so! if it should be a little close for you, you must bear it; over in Arkansas, I'll make you more comfortable."
He seized the oars once more, and pulled away till the tumid veins on his forehead threatened to burst the skin;—"Stop!" resounded across from the shore, and, as he was gazing thither, to see to whom the call was addressed, for he was himself too far for it to have reference to him—a flash gleamed in the obscurity and the report of a shot followed.
His attention was thus drawn to the direction in whichthe shot was fired, and to his astonishment and alarm, he just discerned, in the dim light of the moon, the dark shadow of a second boat gliding on, which evidently must be following him. Although he could not account, in the first place, where this boat had come from, as the mulatto had found none thereabouts, or, secondly, why his enemies should fire upon it, yet, he did not, for a moment, hesitate in concluding it to contain, as it really did,pursuers; and his sole aim now was to reach the opposite shore before it. Once there with his prize, he could, under the dark shadow of the woods, either give them the slip, with his boat even, or else easily carry his prize into the thicket, where pursuit would be useless. So, with his face turned to the dark spot, from which the flashing light of the oars, as they were lifted out of the water, alone announced the activity with which those in it were striving after their object, he himself pulled away lustily, and shaped his course, so as to give way a little to the stream, not exactly across, but rather endeavouring to maintain his advantage, as he still thought it possible to escape them by superior speed.
But he was soon undeceived, for although the pirogue was unquestionably clumsier in the water than the excellently modelled boat, yet the latter was not adapted to be rowed by one person: the tholes lay opposite separate seats, the one more forward than the other, and the working of both at the same time was highly inconvenient. Turner, who knew how to scull, might, it is true, have easily got his boat down stream in that way, but he could not have made, in that fashion, so much way as the pirogue, and, he was consequently obliged for his own safety to choose the less convenient but more advantageous mode.
Still, the pursuers gained upon him, and he was obliged to turn the head of his boat more towards the stream, in order to reach the opposite shore as soon as possible. But this movement, which did not pass unnoticed by Helldorf,only redoubled the zeal of the Germans, and the steersman warned the rowers several times, not to pull too violently, lest they should break one of their oars, a loss which could not have been made good.
Turner was now compelled, in order to get more command of the lower or larboard oar, and be enabled to stem the stream, to change the tholes, which occupied him some seconds, for whilst he stopped rowing, the boat's head turned quite towards the stream, and she lost her course. Scarcely had the American resumed his seat, and got his little vessel in her former direction, before he saw how much nearer the enemy had advanced, and became conscious of the danger which threatened him. The current, besides, had carried him further down than he anticipated, and he observed, on turning his head to look, that he must touch the upper part of the sandbank, situate on the opposite side of the river, about three English miles below the one before alluded to, and would not be able to give his pursuers the slip in the shadow of the woods, or in the top of some tree fallen into the water. All that remained for him was to save his own life, and gnashing his teeth, he was compelled to admit to himself, that the booty, which he had considered so safe, was lost to him. There is no knowing what he might have done in the first moment of rage, had he only dared to cease rowing for an instant; but as it was, he found himself almost within shot of the silently approaching avengers, and knew well enough, unless he reached the sandbank sooner, and much sooner, too, than they, that he should be exposed to their fire. He could not possibly dare to hope, that people who engaged in such a pursuit were unarmed, and yet such was the case; not one of the three carried so much as a pistol, and they had simply, on the impulse of the moment, and relying on the goodness of their cause, followed a desperate ruffian, who, there could be no doubt, would have sold his life dearly.
Turner, never without a weapon himself, thought the sameprobable of others, and as his pursuers were Germans, they naturally, according to his idea, carried nothing else than fowling pieces or shot guns, and those double-barrelled ones. But, just now, he dreaded those more than he did a ball, for it was more probable that he should be hit by them, and perhaps crippled, than with a bullet. He therefore exerted himself in desperation, his limbs were bathed in sweat, his sinews strained almost to starting, and he was scarcely fifty yards distant from the strand which promised him deliverance, when the boat ran upon one of the numerous tongues of sand which in that place run out into the stream, and grounded hard and fast. Turner well knew how impossible it would be for him, under existing circumstances, to get her afloat again, and therefore, without a second's further delay, seized his rifle and shot bag, and jumped overboard, and ran, with rapid bounds, through the water, which there was scarcely a foot in depth, towards the sandy shore. He had hardly reached it, before he began to spring across the hard sand in zig-zag, in order to avoid any shot which might happen to be sent after him, and in doing this performed such extraordinary gambols, that Schwarz, who immediately guessed what he was in dread of, and knew the groundlessness of his fears, broke out into a loud laugh. But Werner, who troubled himself little about the runaway rascal, if he could only succeed in saving his sweetheart, was in half a minute's time beside the boat left in the lurch, in which the maiden, bound and gagged, was still lying. He was in it with a rapid spring, and in the next moment, Bertha, swooning from joyous surprise, rested upon his breast.
For the unhappy girl had had no means of forming an idea that any body was in pursuit of her kidnapper; although she heard the shot fired at the canoe, yet, as she was lying in the stern of the boat, with her face turned forward, and could only see the exertion with which the scoundrel was rowing, she gave herself up for lost. Nor had she beenable to perceive the happy consequences which had ensued from her cry for help, for the American had immediately thrown himself upon her, and stifled any further sound by a new bandage. When, therefore, she felt, as she supposed, the boat touch the shore, she abandoned all hope, and stared, with fixed and horrified gaze, at the man in whose ruffianly power she now believed herself. But how astonished was she, when, without bestowing a single word upon her, he jumped out of the boat into the splashing water, and directly afterwards another boat glided alongside, out of which—gracious Heaven! was it one of thy angels that thou hadst sent?—the very man sprang to whom her whole pure soul hung with devotion. The joy was too overwhelming; she cast a single look of gratitude upward, into the clear sky, and then sank back, unconscious, into the arms which were clasped around her.
In the same moment of time Turner disappeared in the thicket of young cotton-wood saplings, which skirted the sand-bank.
"I say, Helldorf, I think we shall make a good exchange here," said Schwarz, laughing, as he followed Werner into the captured boat; "well leave our old hollow log behind us: what say you?"
"Why, of course," said Helldorf; "but we'll tow it into the current again, so that yonder varmint may not chance to use it to get away. Without a vessel, may he be devoured by mosquitoes in Mississippi swamps."
"What jumps he took!" said Schwarz, still laughing at the thought of the Yankee's zig-zag flight. "He thought, no doubt, that we had a whole arsenal of fire arms aboard; but, by Jove, here are two rifles, and a whole box full of provision, apparently."
"It will be time enough for examination when we get back," said Helldorf. "Werner, can you steer?"
He nodded his head in silence, but did not remove his eyes from off the countenance of his beloved, whosedeadly pale temples he bathed with the cool water of the stream.
"But we're fast aground!" exclaimed Schwarz.
"Wet feet won't hurt us much," Helldorf interrupted him, and jumped overboard at once to shove the boat afloat again. Schwarz quickly followed his example; in a few seconds they felt the boat give way to their efforts, and soon it rocked freely and merrily again in deeper water.
The men now jumped in, and whilst they vigorously plied the long oars, Werner took hold of the tiller with his left hand, while with his right he supported his beloved. The well-modelled boat glided with the speed of an arrow towards the Eastern shore once more.
But there, meanwhile, things had proceeded wildly and confusedly enough. Wolfgang and Herbold, throwing themselves from their horses, had seized the two traitors, who were struggling with each other; but the mulatto would certainly have escaped from the firm grasp of Herbold, for, quick as lightning, he drew a small knife from his girdle, from the use of which the doctor had hitherto prevented him, and stuck it into the shoulder of the German, who instantly let go his hold in alarm; but Pastor Hehrmann, although he shrank from shooting a fellow-being, even though as vile a criminal as he who stood before him, yet could not help giving some vent to his just rage, and, swinging round his weapon quickly, he struck, with its butt end, the hard-sculled son of Ethiopia, with such good will, on the head, that the stock broke in two, and the mulatto was doubled up without speech or movement. In the next moment, he, as well as Normann, whom Wolfgang held with an iron grasp, were bound so fast that they could not budge. Pastor Hehrmann had, in the meantime, discovered his poor younger child lying on the ground, almost lifeless with anxiety and dread; he loosened her bands, and pressed her affectionately to his bosom, when the report of Von Schwanthal's shot turned their attention in that direction. They now made out bothboats in the moonlight, but all of them remained in uncertainty, for who in the world could the pursuers be, if the first boat contained the fugitive and his booty. Louisa increased their doubts by stating that the American was the only one now left of the treacherous band, and the Germans could not imagine where the other boat came from. Had Providence sent it to save the poor innocent girl from the hands of her kidnapper, or did it only bear away others of his rascally accomplices, who, perhaps, had been lying here in ambuscade to cover the traitor's flight?
The prisoners were required to give them some explanation; but, however ready the mulatto might be to tell all that he knew, in the hope of saving his dark skin, yet he was compelled to confess that the second boat was unknown to him, and certainly did not belong to their party. This was the only circumstance which left the miserable father a glimmer of hope, although he could not conceive who the men might be who had hastened to the salvation of his child, so unexpectedly, and at so critical a moment. He could now only pray that Heaven might prosper their good work; and, with folded hands, and with his sobbing daughter leaning on his breast, the poor unhappy man stood and gazed, fixed and motionless, out into the silent surface of the stream, as though he would have penetrated the obscurity which shrouded it.
Normann and the mulatto lay firmly bound beneath a tree, and Von Schwanthal stood beside them, with his gun again loaded and cocked; but Herbold pulled off his coat, and was just endeavouring, by the faint light of the moon, to examine the wound which he had received from the steel of the mulatto, when they heard the rustling of the bushes, and the younger Siebert, Schmidt, and an Alsatian, the former armed with a double-barrelled gun, and the other two carrying formidable bludgeons in their fists, rushed towards them. They were soon informed of the state of affairs, and the clubmen were turned into watchers of the prisoners, whilst Siebert laid down his weapon, and looked at Herbold's wound; it provedaltogether free from danger; the uncertain thrust had but grazed the shoulder and torn the skin; a linen handkerchief was bound over it, and there was nothing more to be feared from it.
It was then that Pastor Hehrmann, who had never turned away his eyes from the river, suddenly exclaimed, as he pointed, with his left arm outstretched, down the stream—
"Did you hear nothing? was not that a sound like an oar creaking against the hard wood of a boat's side?"
All listened, and for some seconds absolute silence ensued, then it sounded distinctly across the water. All heard, at measured intervals, the regular working of a pair of oars, but they still remained in uncertainty whether the boat to which they belonged was going down the stream, or whether it was returning. After a quarter of an hour of the most exciting and painful expectation, Herbold first discerned a dark point in the lighter surface of the water, and soon after, every moment more distinctly, the outline of a boat became visible, ploughing the stream, and, it could no longer be doubted, making for the eastern shore. Now the separate figures of those in it might be distinguished—there were three of them—two rowed, and one was at the tiller—but what was that? Was there not something white lying in the stern? Something now moved in the boat, a white handkerchief was waved:—
"The Hoffnung, ahoy!" cried a loud voice to the shore.
"Gracious Heaven!" said Pastor Hehrmann, and his knees trembled with joyous alarm, "gracious Heaven! was not that Werner's voice? And my daughter——Bertha——"
"Is saved!" the other called back; "we bring her; father, she is here!"
The boat glided into the shade of the projecting trees, and immediately after they heard it strike upon the soft mud. How Pastor Hehrmann flew down the steep bank and clasped the child who was found again, he hardly knewhimself. It was only when held in Bertha's arms, and when that excellent girl, who up to that moment had exhibited fortitude and moral strength, broke out into convulsive sobs, and clasped her father's neck, as though she would never, never more loosen her embrace, that he comprehended, that he felt, that he had indeed got both his dear children back, and with a voice almost choked by emotion, he cried—
"My Lord, I thank thee!"
How describe, with cold dead words, the feelings which the happy ones felt, when, in constantly renewed embraces, they felt completely that they were restored to each other, never more to be separated! How gladly did the father welcome the worthy deliverers of his daughters, two of whom were already his old and dear friends, and how often had they to recount again and again how they had just happened to arrive in time to save Bertha from an ill which—he shuddered at the mere thought of such misery!
And why, during all these relations, did the dear great hearted girl hide her little head, with a deep blush, in her father's breast? Why did she not look freely and openly into the eyes of those who had so readily hurried to her rescue when she was in need and danger, as she had hitherto, unconscious of evil, done towards all men? Oh, do not press the poor girl, her nerves have not recovered from the fright and dread, and—Werner has, during the short passage, been whispering so many, so very many things into her ears, that—but 'tis no business of ours, and we had better stick to our story.
"What's to be done now with these two fellows here?" said Von Schwanthal, who probably felt the evening air getting too damp for his taste. "Shall we take them into the house, or shall we carry them to the settlement with us?"
"Well leave them here," said Wolfgang; "what's the use of dragging them about any further? Either we will pronounce judgment upon them ourselves to-morrow, which,at all events would be the shorter course, or we will take them, bound, in the boat, to Memphis, so that they may be punished there."
"That will certainly be best," said Pastor Hehrmann, "for, may Heaven preserve us from executing the law ourselves, as I have heard is sometimes practised here in America! We will not dye our hands in human blood."
"Am I dreaming?" said Helldorf, who had stopped to listen as soon as he heard Wolfgang's voice, advancing towards the latter, and availing himself of the uncertain light of the moon. "Isn't that—by all that's wonderful!—Wolfgang!"
"Helldorf!" the other exclaimed, embracing his friend, and pressing him to his breast—"Helldorf, God bless you, my dear fellow—Helldorf!" and with that word, the name of a man with whom he had in past times shared joy and sorrow—the remembrance came upon him suddenly of all that he had lost, of all that he had suffered, and he cast himself in dumb and scarce bearable agony on the shoulder of his friend.
"Friends! I have a hundred dollars in gold upon me," Dr. Normann now suddenly whispered to the two men who kept watch over him; "they are yours if you will cut through the cord, and turn away your head for a moment."
"Hit him over the head, Hans, if he opens his mouth again," said Schmidt, growling a hearty curse to himself into the bargain. "Does the blackguard think to bribe us, too? Wait, you dog!"
Under any other circumstances it is probable that Normann would have been deterred by this not over-encouraging answer, but the sound of the voices of the two men, Wolfgang and Helldorf, filled his soul with horror, and he dreaded the worst.
"I have five hundred dollars with me," he whispered again, as he endeavoured to raise himself; "my men, I'll make you rich, only loosen my bands, and give me a minute's start.Five hundreddollars, I say, do you hear?—five hundred dollars!"
"Shall I give him a tap?" asked the Alsatian, and raised the heavy iron-shod stick, which in starting he had seized in haste as the most convenient weapon of offence and defence.
"It won't do any harm," Schmidt considered, growling, "for he has already richly deserved——"
The Alsatian did not wait for the conclusion of his comrade's sentence, but gave the bound criminal such a hard and well meant cut across the shoulders, that the latter yelled with pain and rage.
"Hallo! what's up there?" Von Schwanthal now cried, as he levelled his gun, and quickly advanced. "Is he trying to get away?"
"He's offering a bribe again," said Schmidt, laughing, "and the Alsatian has forbidden him rather feelingly."
"Aha! he would like to be off," said Von Schwanthal, "I dare say. His is a desperate case. I wouldn't be in his shoes for the best bearskin in the world. But I think it would be better for us to take those worthies in-doors. In the first place they can be easier guarded there, and besides it's getting very unpleasant out here. Mr. Wolfgang, I dare say, has got a little bread and meat—you understand!"
"Aha! you are hungry," said the party alluded to, with a smile; "well, we shall manage to find something. But here comes Scipio, with fire, I see. That's right of you, old fellow; throw the burning logs down here; we are not going to stay out here all night, it is true, but they may light us for the moment."
He took, at the same time, a burning pine-torch out of the old negro's hand, and stepped up to the place where the malefactors were guarded.
"So this gentleman, here, wanted to bribe our watchmen, eh?" said Wolfgang, while he passed the flaming light towards the pale face of the doctor. "That, I suppose, is your much-praised Dr. Normann. Confusion!" he suddenly cried out, interrupting himself, and starting back in surprise, as though he had trodden on a snake—"Wæhler!Dr. Wæhler! Then there is a retributive providence even in this world. Villain, thy hour has come! Mary! Mary! here is revenge!" And before any of the astonished spectators, who surrounded him, could interfere—yes, even before the pale sinner himself had any notion of what was in store for him—Wolfgang, driven by the sight of the hated one to the wildest and most unbridled rage, swung the heavy brand which he carried in his hand, and dashed it down with all his might upon the malefactor, who uttered a loud scream of dread and horror. The sparks flew far around, and the flame was extinguished—but again the glimmering club was raised and threatened destruction to him who had now fallen back unconscious; it was Pastor Hehrmann who saved him. He seized the enraged man's arm with all his strength, and begged and entreated of him to stay, and not to stain his soul with murder.
"Murder!" said Wolfgang, musingly. "Murder!" he re-echoed as if in a dream. "Yes, yes, it would be murder—yet that villain, has he not deserved death a thousand-fold at my hands? Was he not the cause that we were obliged to leave the home we had founded in a beautiful country, and that my wife now—killed by fever and grief—lies in the cold earth? But you are right," he continued, after a short pause, whilst the smoking torch fell from his hand—"you are right; I will not stain myself with the blood of this villain—he shall be handed over to thehangman, to whom he belongs."
"Hold there—hold fast!" cried Schmidt, as he made a spring, and missing his footing, pulled down the Alsatian who stood beside him, to the ground, too.
"Back!" cried Von Schwanthal, at the same time, as he opposed himself to the dark form of the fugitive mulatto, who was just about to fly past him into the thicket.
But perceiving the German levelling at him, and fearing the fowling-piece, which stopped his only outlet in that direction, more, he turned back and attacked young Siebert, whowas taken by surprise, tore the gun out of his hand, and then sprung with it, with a tremendous leap, right into the stream, whose waters met over him again.
"Wait a bit, you scoundrel!" said Von Schwanthal, as he sprang to the edge of the bank, and raised the gun to his cheek—"wait, you scoundrel! only show your black woolly head again, and I'll let fly at you, so that——"
"Let him go," Werner begged, as he pushed the barrel, which was already aimed, aside—"we are all so happy, this evening. Human blood, spilt by our hands, would put us out. He will not escape his fate."
"You are right, I will willingly leave him; however, you've saved his life, that's certain, else by this time he would have been on the high road to the infernal regions. But, if he really does go to the devil, we've got the head and chief rogue, and he must pay the penalty for both this time. Wait a bit, my little doctor, we'll make you swallow something which shall be more bitter than your own pills."
But the doctor did not hear a word of all these friendly addresses, for, stupified by the blow, he continued to lie there rigid and unconscious, or else pretended to be so, and was carried by his sentinels into the house.
The mulatto, who had made such good use of the moment when they were all occupied with the doctor, and was now joyously dividing the flood with sturdy arms, struck out towards the opposite shore. Von Schwanthal could, for a long time, trace the light stripe which the swimmer left behind him in the water. He certainly appeared to have escaped from the hands of mortal avengers; but a greater one watched him; Nemesis stretched forth her iron grasp towards him—he had met his fate.
There are few who can plough their way across the mighty father of the waters—the Mississippi; the current is too strong; a thousand whirlpools exhaust the swimmer, although they may not be powerful enough to suck him down. The Mulatto stemmed the flood with powerful chest, and hadalready reached the middle of the river; he then turned on his back to rest, and now began again to labour with redoubled exertion.
But this it was which proved fatal to him; he had, from the very first, to escape the still-dreaded shot, over-exerted himself, and now, when fear lest he should not reach the saving shore came to be superadded, it operated cripplingly upon him. His breathing became more laboured, his movements quicker, but also fainter, and it was only the sight of the shore, which constantly advanced more and more near, which yet maintained his spirit. He had now attained the dark line that mirrored the tree tops in the water, yet still the land receded about two hundred yards more.
"Courage!" he faintly gasped, whilst he clenched his teeth as if in grim defiance—"courage! yonder—but a few yards off, life and freedom smile!—courage!" With a strength which he could only borrow from despair, he divided the waters. He had but a few yards more to swim before he could grasp the over-hanging willows of the shore. "Ha! how strong the current rolls along on this side!" He could scarcely support himself above the whirling flood.
"Help!" he cried: Turner must be on this side, and would hear him. "Help!" In vain—twice, already, had he stretched out his hand to a projecting branch, twice had the current's speed sucked him away from under it. Now, again, a saving branch stretched out towards him—with a last exertion of strength, he threw himself upwards and towards it; he clutched the rocking branch which projected far into the river. But, oh! unfortunate wretch, it gave way! it was but a floating reed which had settled there, and that broke in the grasp. The mulatto sank—the waves curled and gurgled above him. He yet clutched the treacherous reed in his hand, and bore it with him into the deep. But there—yet again—as if in the battle of struggling and wrestling life with the silent deep, the dark figure reappeared from its watery grave; yet again it turned its wild defying look up tothe bright, silent, friendly moon, that quietly and holily poured down her peaceful light, as well on the passion-torn sons of man, as on the cold, slumbering, earth, and the silver-gleaming stream. Yet again, a wild, blasphemous curse bubbled from the ashen lips of the mulatto, and the convulsed body sank for ever into the unceasingly further-rolling flood, as though nature would no longer suffer that hideous distorted mask to abide further in the wondrous harmony of her forms.
Their caution awakened by the flight of the mulatto, the Germans watched their remaining prisoner with the greater attention and care, and the whole of them now retired to Wolfgang's dwelling, partly to pass the remainder of the night there, partly to maintain a fire, beside which the remaining pursuers, whom they also expected to arrive shortly, might warm and refresh themselves. However, hardly had Wolfgang completed the arrangements for the convenience of his guests, before, to the surprise of all, he led out his horse again, and told the men that he was about to ride back to the settlement that very night, to communicate the happy tidings of the result of their hunt to Madame Hehrmann, and relieve her mind, for that the anxiety of the mother for her daughters so shamefully carried off, must be boundless.
Pastor Hehrmann at first tried to prevent him, but as he probably was alarmed for his poor wife himself, unless she should shortly receive good tidings concerning her daughters, he ultimately offered himself as a companion, and, notwithstanding Wolfgang positively declined this at first, and affirmed that the pastor stood almost as much in need of rest and care as his daughters, and that they must at all events have a protector, yet the father was not deterred by that.
"I leave them to the care of their noble-minded preservers," he said, grasping Werner's hand; "and to-morrow follow us as quickly as you can—we shall await you impatiently."
Louisa was unwilling to part with her father, butsurrounded by so many friends, no further danger could threaten them, and to send tidings of their safety was the very thing she had ardently wished. The two horsemen, therefore, departed, and the remaining men divided themselves into two watches, to relieve one another, so as not to be overpowered by sleep. Werner, however, was excluded from these, for it now came out that he had been wounded by Von Schwanthal's shot, and was very weak from loss of blood. The wound, it is true, proved by no means dangerous, yet it called for rest. Von Schwanthal, when he first heard of it, was inconsolable, begged the young man's pardon a thousand times, offered to keep watch himself all night, then abused the doctor and his base accomplices again, and at last, proposed to permit their prisoner, who probably knew some little of surgery, at all events, to use his hands so far as to dress the wounded limb—the upper part of the right arm. Werner had, meanwhile, found a much dearer and better doctor, than him whom Von Schwanthal proposed—Bertha. Scarcely had she heard that the young man was wounded—wounded on her account—before she quickly, and with a strength which one would not have supposed her capable of, tore off the linen kerchief which she wore lightly tied round her neck, and begged—how could Werner resist such a request?—to be allowed to examine, and bind up the wounded limb. Her sister lent a helping hand, and Werner was ordered, notwithstanding all his opposition, to lie down and rest himself, so that he might not catch cold, and the wound, which then was not serious, be aggravated by inflammation. But he would not agree to this on any condition—not even upon the persevering request of the pretty girls; his place, he said, was beside the fire half the night, but the other half with the watch, to preserve those from harm whom he had been so fortunate as to save.
Accordingly, it was so done; the men relieved each other regularly, although nothing suspicious further occurred, and,Normann was too securely guarded to escape. It was not till the sun rose on the following morning, in all his splendour and majesty, that they broke up to depart, and to follow the tracks of the horsemen who had ridden on before.
The only remaining horse was now applied to the use of the two young ladies, and Bertha, with Louisa mounted behind her, sat as firmly in the saddle as though she had been used to romp about on horseback from infancy. But Werner walked by her side, and held the bridle of the spirited horse, as it stamped along, or she might not have mustered courage to do so. Normann was compelled to accompany the party with his hands tied behind his back, and with Von Schwanthal marching close after him; while the little negro was dispatched to the nearest town, to fetch the sheriff, in order to deliver up the criminal into his hands. Scipio, on the other hand, who had offered himself as their conductor, was to keep up a good fire at the mouth of the Halchee, to collect the scattered settlers, who, it was conjectured, had missed their way, and bivouacked in the woods. Helldorf assured them that he was able readily to find the road from the horse and wagon tracks.
Sure enough, the remaining pursuers of the kidnappers, although they had not exactly lost themselves, yet had so entangled themselves in thickets and briers, that they found it impossible to get on after darkness had set in. Now they tumbled into a ditch, then stumbled over a branch or a root, and tore their hands and faces in a most melancholy manner. In all their troubles, they had kept closer and closer together, in order by their mutual vicinity to keep off, in part at least, the uncomfortable feeling which seized upon them, however brave they might be, when they gazed into the surrounding darkness, whence now and then, wild, strange, and sometimes fearful cries of animals resounded and filled them with terror. By the next morning's light, however, they followed the course of the Halchee, whichbrought them to the shores of the Mississippi, where the trusty black received them, and gave them tidings of all that had occurred.
The luggage of the three friends had been meanwhile got into Wolfgang's house, and Scipio, who had first of all refreshed his guests with meat and drink, conducted them, following the old wagon tracks, as Helldorf had done, back to the settlement, where the poor little tailor took to his bed at once, and, in consequence of the unusual exertion, had a regular bone-shaking attack of the cold fever, or ague.
We must now pass over a period of nearly a year, and I will merely relate, in few words, what took place in the settlement and its neighbourhood in the interim.
The sheriff, accompanied by two constables, had taken away Dr. Normann to the county town, but the settlers found themselves, in consequence, involved in infinite trouble, for almost every one of those who had taken part in the pursuit and capture of that scoundrel was summoned to give evidence upon oath, before the court; even Bertha and Louisa had to go there, and Wolfgang subsequently often expressed his opinion that it would have been better to have allowed him to pursue the course which he had wished to take, and then there would have been no occasion for all this trouble; Pastor Hehrmann, on the other hand, declared that he willingly submitted to it all, for that his conscience could not now accuse him of shedding, or of being party to the shedding of human blood.
Dr. Normann, or Wæhler, as his name was discovered to be at the trial, was found guilty by the jury, and sentenced to ten years' imprisonment in the House of Correction; it is true, that he subsequently appealed to the court of the United States, but without obtaining a more favourable result, andin the early part of the following year, he was delivered over in irons to the penitentiary of the state.
But how did it fare with the settlers, now that they had arrived in the foreign, but much-wished-for country? Alas, ill enough! At first, Helldorf and Schwarz had taken the greatest pains to induce them to migrate to a healthier district, and that without further loss of time, but the good folks would only profit by experience, and would first pass through every successive stage of expectation deceived and hope destroyed; without which practical lessons, Germans seldom follow advice. As Helldorf and Schwarz, therefore, soon discovered that further persuasion was not merely useless, but would even tend to confirm the obstinate people in their stupid resolution, they gave up preaching of colours to the blind, who could not see or comprehend them. Werner, on the other hand, brought into nearer contact with the Hehrmanns, and emboldened by his adventures and good fortune, sued for the little hand of the dear, blushing Bertha, and the parents gave their cheerful and willing assent, on condition that he should settle among them, and, like themselves, become a farmer. Mindful, however, of the warnings of his friends, and unwilling, besides, to cultivate a spot where the inexperienced Germans had been banished by the fraud of a fellow-countryman, he begged them to grant him a year's delay till he should have founded a little home for himself, when he would fetch bride and parents together, and would, with willing heart, work hard, in order to have all the dear ones beside him.
Pastor Hehrmann, at that time, it is true, shook his head, and replied very gravely, that he had, once for all, given his word to the association, faithfully to stay beside them so long as they required him, and he should be the last to go from so important and self-imposed a duty. Helldorf, however, gave his opinion, with a laugh, that if there were nothing else to detain him beside that, Pastor Hehrmann would, no doubt, be a free and independent man, in the following year,and would willingly accompany his son-in-law to a healthier climate, and pleasanter neighbourhood; he, moreover, would warrant, that within a year, Werner should have made a beginning on a sufficient little property; and he longed not a little himself for the time when he should become a neighbour of the families of Hehrmann and Werner.
Accordingly, matters remained thus for the present; Werner, after a stay of about three weeks, cleared out,—accompanied by Schwarz and Helldorf, and even by Wolfgang, the latter of whom, however, only intended to view the country, and to return to the Mississippi, for the present,—across to the southern part of Missouri, and there the three settled themselves on the woody banks of the Big Black River.
They had worked and toiled there during three months or so, and with the little capital which they possessed, and warned by the experience of Helldorf and Schwarz, they had really performed wonders, when one day, Werner got hold of that sealed letter of introduction, which was directed to a distant relative of his own, settled but a few miles from where they were living. Werner would hitherto, on no account, seek him out, but now that his own circumstances looked rather more prosperous, the wish occurred to him to make the acquaintance of the old man, of whom his uncle had formerly often spoken to him.
Dr. Wisslock resided, although he had but little intercourse with the neighbourhood, on the high road leading from St. Louis to Arkansas, and was reputed, as Werner had learnt from some of his neighbours, not only to be the possessor of a very considerable farm, and much property, but also, although very eccentric, to be a very good-hearted man.
It was a Sunday, when Werner determined to look him up, and with the letter in his pocket, he reached, just before dinner-time, the neat and well-kept fence of the fields of Indian corn, between which, a straight, broad road led to the homestead. Werner followed this, and arrived before thehouse, threw his horse's bridle over a rack erected there for the purpose, and after tapping twice at the door without receiving an answer, stepped into the house, and from thence walked into a room, the door of which stood ajar. Here he found himself at once in the presence of his relative, Dr. Wisslock, introduced himself briefly and pithily, and handed him the letter.
"Hem!" said the old man, when he had hastily skimmed through it—"hem? What has the young gentleman learnt, that he comes dropping, as from the clouds into the back woods in this way?—educated at a university—eh?"
Werner answered affirmatively.
"And now, all at once, wants to become a farmer?"
"A farmer's life has been described to me," replied the other, "by several friends, as most suitable for a German."
"Oh, ah! Yes, I dare say!" growled Dr. Wisslock, nodding his head, significantly; "I dare say, picturesque landscape—hanging woods and rocks—creepers and wild vines—bleating herds, and bear's flesh—the usual dream. You'll find out your mistake."
"I scarcely think so," said Werner, smiling; "what I have hitherto seen of the country, pleases me much."
"You'll think differently when you come to handle the axe and the plough," grumbled the old fellow, by no means more agreeably disposed by this reply. "Here, in the woods, there is no getting on without work, nor without right-down hard work either; we can't buy little niggers and blackamoors, directly. Do you intend to settle?"
"It's already done," replied Werner, rather shortly, for the reception of the old man began to displease him.
"Already done?" he asked, surprised, as he stopped a pinch of snuff midway to his nose. "Already done! why, how long has the young gentleman been in America, then?" and he opened the letter again, and looked at its date.
"Almost a year, and for the last half-year I have been your neighbour, though rather a distant one."
"Oh, the deuce!" exclaimed the old man, and a peculiar kind of movement played round the corners of his mouth, "the deuce! Then you're perhaps actually one of the three young Germans who have made such a good start on the Black River?"
Werner nodded his head silently.
"Very glad to make your acquaintance," continued the old man, becoming very friendly, and even hearty all at once,—"have heard nothing but good report of all of you, and was shortly coming to see you. But be seated, I beg, be seated. So you've carried the introduction about in your pocket for half a year! Hem! why didn't you come to me at once?
"I had brought introductions to New York and Philadelphia," replied Werner, "and seeing their result, or rather finding that they had no result, and, as I now feel well enough, could have had none, I laid by the rest of the letters in my box, and indeed shouldn't have delivered this had it not been sealed, and had I not wished besides to make your acquaintance."
"Hem—hem!" interjected the old man, and one could read in his looks how pleased he was with the firm, manly behaviour of the young man—"hem—hem! very reasonable that—must dine with me first—afterwards I'll take a ride over with you to the Black River—can sleep there, I suppose—eh? Should like to see your housekeeping there—hem—hem!—three bachelors—eh? Heaven have mercy upon us!—there is but one here, and even with him things are bad enough."
The old man chatted away for a long time in his peculiar, but good-tempered style, and actually trotted over to the "Three Mens' Farm," (as it was called in the vicinity, from the three proprietors,) that same evening.
But Dr. Wisslock was not the man to let the matter drop there. If Werner had brought the letter to him at first, and so, if not directly, still to a certain extent indirectly, challenged him to assist him, he might perhaps have met him with the usual American saying, "Help thyself!" But here was quite adifferent case—the young man did not want him; he had proved that he did not want him, and was only come there to make his acquaintance—that sounded quite differently. Besides, Werner knew nothing of a clause which was appended to the letter, and which his old uncle hadnotread to him with the rest.
The Doctor, as he was briefly styled in all the country round, now took a very particular interest in the plans of the three young people, whom he liked more and more upon further acquaintance. He inquired about one thing and the other, and made himself intimately acquainted with all, and not only helped them with excellent advice, but also subsequently, cheerfully, and with good will, by act and deed. Meanwhile, he had ascertained all the particulars, as well concerning the joint-stock settlement, as of Werner's love, and the worthy family of the Hehrmanns. But from that moment forward, he urged and urged Werner to go across and fetch the Hehrmanns out of the swamps, and put them in train to become acquainted with thereallife in the west, that they might not in those poisonous swamps imbibe a distaste for the noble woods. But Werner knew but too well that Hehrmann would never desert the settlement so long as the colony had existence, however few the members might be of which it might consist.
Besides, he had firmly resolved not to return to the Halchee until he should be in a position to earn his livelihood, and subsist independently; such was, however, not yet the case, and full six months more elapsed before he had erected a little dwelling on his own land, and had procured all kinds of necessary implements. But when that was done the old man left him no more peace, and he and Helldorf, who volunteered as his companion, set out one fresh sunny morning in Autumn, after nearly a year's absence, to visit his sweetheart, and, with the parents' blessing, to fetch her home to his quiet cheerful house.
Mounted on hardy ponies, the two friends trotted freshlyand merrily along through the autumnal forest canopy, and although the wondrous splendour of colour of the foliage, and the thousand various tints of the fading leaves, now and then riveted their eyes, distracting the gaze to and fro, and although they could hardly sufficiently admire the constantly fresh beauties which were presenting themselves, still they did not, on that account, stay the course of their horses, and after a difficult ride through the Mississippi swamps, which, although then dry, were yet overgrown with rank vegetation, reached the broad stream, took advantage of a ferry kept up near the southern boundary of Kentucky, to be set across, and now kept along the eastern shore, and at the foot of the hills as far as Jackson, in order to avoid the low land, and not to be further detained by the difficulties of the ground.
It was not until the fourth day that they entered upon the narrow bridle path which the settlers, under Wolfgang's guidance, had in former times marked out to the little town, by cutting blazes, or large pieces of bark from the trees standing on this line. But the road, even when they came quite into the vicinity of the settlement, seemed not to have been used for a long time past; the blazes were grown over, and the yellow leaves of Autumn covered, undisturbed, the slightest trace even of a path. Helldorf smiled quietly to himself, and after they had ridden silently for some time, merely observed—
"The young colony seems to keep itself pretty independent; at all events, it does not seem to keep up much intercourse with the interior of the country."
"Helldorf," said Werner, giving, at the same time, his own beast the spurs, and pushing on beside his friend as a somewhat more open space allowed of their riding abreast; "Helldorf, it seems to me as though the young colony stood in no further connexion at all. I see no cattle anywhere, nor, indeed, any traces of any having ever pastured here; no axe is to be heard, no—but, hold!—what was that?That sounded like one, at least; then, after all, I may have been mistaken."
The men halted for a moment to listen, and then heard distinctly enough the distant, regular strokes of an axe. The sound came from the quarter where the settlement lay, and as they now knew that they were near their destination, they cantered cheerfully along through thorn and thicket, no longer following the blazed trees, but the guidance of their own hearing, into the woods.
"It still looks rather rural round thetown of Hoffnung," said Helldorf, as he was obliged to leap his nag over a great tree stem which lay crosswise in his way. Werner made no reply, but raised himself in the stirrups, and tried to get a view of the clearing, which began to be discernible through the lighter bush.
But, good Heaven! how deserted, how forsaken, did that place look! Where was the bustle and activity of a cheerful, industrious band of settlers, who must be intent on carrying the stores of harvest to meet the approaching winter? Where was the realization of those hopes which so many had nursed and revelled in, whereby a glad provision was to be made for them, and their children after them? Alas, they had all passed away!—those plans and fancies, those bold castles in the air, those notions of public spirit and friendship. Discord and ill will had sown their seeds even in that secluded colony of the Mississippi swamp, or rather the seed which had been long sown had sprung up, and ripened its evil crop, and those expectations which had filled the hearts of the better sort with cheerful confidence, and for which they had quitted their native land and everything dear, had there dissolved away into an evil, painful dream, and yonder stood the ruins, cold and bleak, staring towards Heaven, as though they would testify to the hateful, evil disposition of mankind.
"Good Heaven! what has happened here?" said Werner, as he drew in his horse's reins in alarm—"where are all the people gone who formerly animated this place?"
"Why, where should they be?" said Helldorf, shrugging his shoulders; "dispersed in all quarters, as I foretold you. That does not surprise me much; but that Pastor Hehrmann should not have let us know a word of his having left the place—that does seem extraordinary."
"There's some one back yonder, chopping," said Werner; "his back is towards us; now he turns this way. By all that's holy,that'sHehrmann!—may I never see paradise if I did not recognise the face! But how pale he looks!"
"Hehrmann, and alone here!" replied Helldorf, thoughtfully. "Well, we will leave the horses behind awhile, for they won't be able to make their way through this wild chaos of young shoots and old stumps; we can then soon convince ourselves whether you are right. I hope, at least, that it may be so; but let us advance—this uncertainty is dreadful."
The man, who had hitherto been chopping at a long stem, now lifted, with evident difficulty, a heavy log which he had cut off, on to his shoulder, and stepped with it towards the house; there, outside the door, he put it down, and a young lad, who came running from another corner of the clearing, helped him to carry in the load.
Helldorf and Werner hurried forward without exchanging another word, and in a few minutes were in front of the door, which was opened from within.
Hehrmann, who, with the assistance of Charles, the former glazier's apprentice, had just placed the heavy back-log on the fire, stood with his back towards them, but on his wife and daughters uttering a cry of surprise, on seeing those who had approached, he turned quickly round towards the door, and that with no presentiment of any good. But who shall describe his joyful astonishment, when he recognised the dear and long-wished for forms of those worthy men, for whose friendly voices he had so often longed? Who can paint his feelings when he grasped Werner and Helldorf's hands, and with a hearty, although certainly rather tremulous voice, bade them a joyful, sincere "Welcome?"
And what said Bertha to this meeting? Oh, my dear reader, thou art not to know everything; thou must rest satisfied with being told that Werner had been a full hour in the house, and since he was first welcomed by Bertha, and yet, as if in absence of mind, kept her little hand lying warmly and firmly in his. Hast thou ever thus held a being that was dear—very dear to thee? Then thou knowest what it means, and if thou hastnot—then, poor reader, then, any explanations or description which I might give would not assist thee.
But how poor Werner's heart bled, when he learnt, as he now by degrees did, the whole story of the sufferings of the young colony. The prophecies with which those who meant them well had warned them, had been but too soon fulfilled. Quarrels and discord broke out first when the people discovered that they could not, as they had actually supposed, become rich and independent in half a year, and the majority would no longer work, as they declared that they had no occasion to labour so hard for their own livelihood, and that they were not disposed to toil for others of the "Gentry."
Becher had then, first of all, withdrawn himself from the affair, and given up what he termed a hopeless business; Siebert, junior, had followed him, and immediately afterwards the elder one had also disappeared, and that, as Hehrmann, Herbold, and Von Schwanthal could not conceal from the rest of the settlers, with a pretty considerable portion of the common funds. Pastor Hehrmann had then had great sacrifices to make, and gave up the greater part of his already much diminished property to pacify those who made the loudest complaints, and to stave off the ruin of all his hopes, which else would have taken place at once. But what hurt him more than all was the ungrateful conduct of those whom he had most obliged, whom he had most actively supported. People who, without means of their own, had been hitherto supported from the common stock of the society, showed themselves the most discontented; the most embittered quarrels and disputes followed the distaste for work, and although thebetter men among them, and Hehrmann as the foremost of these, gave way, and again and again endeavoured to restore a good understanding—although representations and even prayers were wasted upon the disturbers, it was in vain. "We are all equal here," was the eternal answer; "and if I'm to toil and moil here, I should like to know what for," said the stupid fellows, who either could not, or would not see, that by such bad faith they not only destroyed the society, but also brought the greatest evils upon themselves, as they now went off without knowing the language, without money, and without friends, into a strange country, and had to toil and plague themselves for yet stranger people, and that, perhaps, for six or seven dollars a month, and without receiving either thanks or a friendly word in return. Von Schwanthal had left later, in order to see Arkansas; for an American, who had passed through, had told him so much of the shooting in Arkansas, that he could no longer resist the newly awakened and mighty love of hunting any longer. He embarked himself and his baggage, after having formally taken leave of the colony, for Little Rock, and intended, as he had told Pastor Hehrmann at parting, to lead a regular hunter's life in the new state.
Becher had gone to New Orleans, and the rest gradually dispersed to all quarters of the compass. Hehrmann saw them, one after another, take their leave, or even forsake the place without leave-taking; but when he was left almost alone, and wished himself to seek a better, healthier home, when his last friend had disappeared with Wolfgang, who had cleared out for Missouri as late as seven months since, he found, to his alarm, that he no longer possessed the means. He had given away everything—sacrificed all, in order that he might not see his favourite plan, the union of Germans in, a fraternal society, founder. He had, when they learnt from Buffalo that the things left behind there were gone, and could not be traced, and the landlord pretended to know nothing about anything of the kind—when subsequently link after linkof the chain fell away, when those forsook him on whom he had calculated most—even when ridicule or contemptuous laughter met his ear, he had never hesitated. "We are melted down to a few," he used to say to those few, "but we can yet prove that people who religiously are in earnest in the good cause, can carry it through in spite of the greatest difficulties."
But he soon discovered that those who continued with him were, for the most part, merely compelled to do so, because they did not possess a single dollar wherewith to pay their passage anywhere else, and gladly seized upon the first opportunity which offered, without troubling themselves much as to what became of Pastor Hehrmann and his family, whom they left alone in the swamps.
One only continued with them honestly and faithfully—one only never forgot how well, how kindly he had been taken by the hand by this family, when he himself stood alone and friendless. This was Charles, the former glazier's apprentice, and richly did he requite all the benefits he had received, especially during the past summer, when Pastor Hehrmann, himself, was confined to his bed for weeks, by fever. Oh, how often, how ardently had they longed for Werner to come back—that he might keep his word, and seek them again in their now disconsolate solitude! Alas! the mother had already begun to doubt, and had said—
"You'll see, my child; he has acted like the rest of them; he has gone off, far, far away, and no longer thinks of those, formerly his so dear friends, whom he has left behind."
"Or, perhaps, lies ill and helpless himself among strangers," worthy Hehrmann would then usually interrupt her, for still he never could make up his mind to think ill of any one, unless, as, alas! had latterly often been the case, he was compelled to do so, against his will. Bertha would on such occasions stealthily press her father's hand, and wipe a tear from her eye, for still she did not doubt her lover's word; but the idea that he might be ill and suffering, might stand in need of herhelp, that alone it was which pained her, and which, however much she might strive against it, oppressed her with melancholy.