"One day a note from Frau Salden, intimated to me that I was now considered strong enough to be present at one of those secret sittings, in which the great act of salvation was taught and practised, and invited me to one of those gatherings.
"It was a tolerably large room, but dimly lighted. Men and women were assembled, their devoutness appeared more fervent than usual, yet a spirit of secresy pervaded the gathering, which had shut itself off from the outside world. Lengthy and solemn was the preacher's discourse, urging his hearers, by the power of a higher consciousness, to shake off all sin, successfully to resist all temptations, to despise all earthly charms.
"And the spiritual instruction was followed by spiritual exercises.
"I can here only relate what I felt and what a flash of lightning was launched into my soul on that evening. Mephistopheles might feel himself at home in the classical Walpurgis night, he had been educated to it on the Blocksberg; but a man who has only seen female beauty in a statuary of antiques is internally stirred by it at first as by something strange, divine; yet the sacred fire transforms itself into a brand that it casts into his soul.
"Thus it befell me also! Another perhaps would have turned away from the incredible, as if from some hypocritical doings, and have condemned the leader of thisdivina comedia. Again another would have condemned the excesses of extravagant piety which played a serious game with sin.
"The veil of Sais which hung before my life was torn; for the first time I saw in all its glory the disguised wonder of my dreams, woman.
"But the Millennium also sank into ruins with one blow!
"I was sufficiently used to intoxicated rapture not to condemn with the mind of the sober man that which was unusual, over which the uninitiated must break a lance. That which was done, was not done in the service of sin, it was a holy sacrifice, and how could the exalted lights of the community be thus extinguished in the fog and mist of what was common? If the limitless audacity of these believers made me shudder--it was only the curse of sin, the temptation of the devil, it was the unatonable crime of beauty, against which the power of blessed resistance might strive in vain.
"And this marvel of creation should be a work of the devil, this paradise of beauty only conceal the serpent within itself!
"Fools who drew to light the secret dispositions of the primeval powers, because ruin and sin creep about in darkness, but in light beauty triumphs. No uneasiness, no thought of mockery and desecration arose within me; I felt so strange amongst these men and women, for only in the service of higher powers could they overcome that which without in unsanctified circles was esteemed citizen-like custom. Their sanctification consisted in crossing themselves before beauty, and drawing near to it in blindness that could see, and with a loathing that struggled to suppress delight.
"Thus had the preacher taught; in such sanctity I, too, made my essay, but much too great was the power of beauty over me who had hitherto seen so little. I felt that its contemplation sanctified me otherwise than the secret doctrine desired. Like an electric flash of enlightenment, it poured over all recollections of my school days; the dreary lecture-room was transformed into Mount Ida with its goddesses, and Venus appeared before my eyes as she arises in immortal beauty out of the ocean's billows.
"A heretic was begotten in me, secession from the dark doctrine proclaimed itself in my heart. A principal figure of those revelations which illumine the creation of the world with mysterious light, stood before my soul, and I had the temerity to compare myself with it. It was that Eloah of light, that Lucifer who suddenly perceived that the powers of light which flowed from him became diminished, and now retained them defiantly within himself, in opposition to the plan of creation. Thus I felt within me the spirit of revolt, the individual power which receives the light of revelation in itself merely for its own defiant illumination.
"And on that evening the Gräfin from the Castle led Frau Salden to me as my spiritual bride. Spiritual bride!--profound significance lay in this word, a significance which extended far away beyond the span of earthly life; it contained a consecration for this and for that other world.
"Yet I was no longer capable of grasping that import--earthly love had laid hold of my heart; now I no longer recognised the barriers, as I did after that confession to the Gräfin; like a tempest in spring, I felt it rage within me: the spring of love and beauty had for the first time made their entry into my soul.
"I visited Frau Salden, but how changed everything appeared to me in those cosy rooms! All rest, all peace had vanished from them. The lines in the splendid open Bible ran confusedly into one another, the Magdalene on the wall seemed to rise from her couch, throw the Bible aside, and be wafted towards us in that seductive beauty in which she once wandered on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, and, as if in mockery of my feverish unrest, the windmill sails on yonder side of the river moved with irritating regularity.
"But the seraphic kisses of my spiritual bride burned upon my lips.
"She was gentle and calm before my passionate fervour. I acknowledged to her that I loved her; she replied that such was my right and my duty, and that this love was reciprocated by her; certainly it might not be of a perishable form, not like children of the world must we love one another, but with imperishable spiritual love. My heart, all my feelings were bound up in her. Nevertheless, it was not merely indistinctness, but hypocrisy on my part when I still spoke of such spiritual love, for I loved her with all fervour, as mortals love who do not belong to the elect and chosen.
"I still frequently attempted to attune my mind to those emotions which filled me when woman still stood before me sublime, unknown; but that magic was broken, and as I previously, probably more than all others of that circle, had been capable of the purest spiritual love, so was I now, when since that fatal evening on which the unhemmed waves of passion broke over me, more incapable of it than all others.
"What to the others appeared to be the hermit's grotto of Saint Anthony, who resisted the allurements of the spirit of beauty, had become a mount of Venus for me, and like a modern Tannhäuser, I lay beneath the spell of the immortal goddess.
"I dared not confess my heresy to the beloved one; perhaps she would have turned angrily away from me for ever, and I could justify my silence, because I too had moments in which I could join in my spiritual bride's fervent prayers, but they were merely moments. My internal estrangement from the faith of the elect community increased. I only ventured to express the faintest doubts, then she looked at me with an expression of infinite love; her large tender eye rested upon me with such soul-felt meaning; verily her love for me was different from mine for her: she appeared to watch over my whole life, she felt that we must all be prepared to welcome the coming hour of the Millennium; atonement, forgiveness, purification spoke from out her looks, infinite desire to rescue, to sanctify the sinner.
"I came frequently, I came daily; she withheld all tokens which love demands, although her saintly eyes expressed an increasing, more intense emotion. I became a hypocrite, I required these tokens in the name of salvation, of spiritual exercises; could my spiritual bride deny me them?
"Serious and devout conversations must accompany the work of sanctification.
"She urged me with great sternness, and blamed my lack of holy strength, when my eyes told more of passion than of sacred self-conquest; yet her eyes, too, were not always so stern as her words; sometimes they were filled with a tenderness the eloquence of which was very different from that which flowed from her lips; it was as if they would atone for the unavoidably harsh word which sacred duty imposed; yes this word, too, lost its victorious decision, it quivered with internal conflict, and sometimes she closed her weary eye, and tears hung on her eyelashes.
"It was on a quiet evening, we alone as usual; I came overwhelmed with conflicting feelings, because I was wanting in all the qualifications of a hypocrite; my heart rebelled against the opposition which threatened to destroy my life.
"The wings of the windmill went round beneath the evening sky; it seemed like a mockery of all my thoughts and deeds, that everlasting monotony of the beating of wooden wings, that interminable game of those arms stretching out in vain.
"I was more daring, she softer than usual; she would even on that day deny me the right of devout exercise. Then I assumed the stern tone of a spiritual bridegroom, and she obeyed hesitatingly; the spirit of grace seemed to have left her, she seemed to be seized with a tremor before the might of passion, with rapture into which her own beauty transported her. And, indeed, I thought her more beautiful than ever on that day; pious words died upon her lips; I covered them with glowing kisses, and folded her in my arms.
"The spiritual bride had become a mortal woman, the grey ashes of penitence had been wafted away by all the winds of heaven, and the Vulcan of earthly affection had obstructed the Paradise of those Saints with red-hot lava.
"She released herself from my arms, and rushed, sobbing, upon her knees before theprie dieu, to which she clung convulsively.
"I explained to her that, from that day, I should look upon her as my betrothed, and begged her to accept my heart and hand.
"She looked up at me with a glance full of emotion and love, as it appeared to me, for she uttered no word, nor did she rise from her knees.
"With equal decision, however, I told her that we must both leave the circle of saints, that for long already my heart had rebelled against the doctrine of sanctity and this playing with sin; that I no longer believed in the marriage of souls, but that now I perceived the goal of that love which takes possession of the entire man, in giving up mind and body.
"Then the penitent arose, and, with clasped bands, gazed at me with a look of pity.
"'There is one atonement for sin,' said she, 'if the right spirit of sanctity dwells within us; but he who renounces that spirit is lost; he destroys the bond of the community of souls, for this and for the next life.'
"'Paulina,' cried I, 'you have heard my offer, and you would still thus refuse to be mine?'
"'Why shall marriage,' replied she, 'not be the pillar of lasting communion of souls? Even our principal children of light, even the Witnesses of the Revelation are united, and gladly would I traverse the path of life with you. But never shall I sacrifice the incorruptible to the corruptible! You shut yourself out from the companions of our union, as soon as you release yourself from our faith. Then I shall no longer be your spiritual bride, and it would be impious to become your earthly wife.'
"I still spoke to her in the imploring language of passion; I folded her ardently in my arms, she did not repel me, yet she remained cold, and the pupils of her eyes dilated with a strange wandering light.
"'You are too agitated to-day,' I said to her. 'Recover yourself, I will come again to talk more quietly.'
"'It will not make any difference,' said she, coldly. 'I have sinned, I know it, but for such sin there is forgiveness; I will go to him who occupies a high position in the spiritual kingdom, to the perfect man; I will confess to him, and he will pardon my guilt! But there is no atonement for those who draw back from the earnestness of sanctification, and return into the darkness of the world and their ruin, because the shadow of death, will fall upon them, and they are faithless and have succumbed to the devil. Return to us,' she cried, imploringly, 'then I will be your wife upon earth, as some day in heaven; believe once more in the sanctification which you have impiously desecrated with unbelief, because the acknowledgment of the truth has power to sanctify everything.'
"'Never,' said I now. 'I shall not return, and just as little shall I tolerate that my wife be sanctified by the witnesses and angels.'
"She replied that she should never separate herself from a community in which she had found her soul's eternal salvation.
"My heart seemed to be pierced and torn; was it possible that she, in whom I had found the delight of my life, was lost to me? Was it credible that now we parted coldly and distantly?
"It had become late; I descended the dark staircase of the house, when I heard a merry, childish voice, and touched a nurse's dress in passing.
"'The little Salden?' asked I.
"'Yes, my Herr,' was the reply.
"I stroked the hair and cheeks of the little one, who seemed to nestle against her companion in alarm.
"'Do not be afraid,' said I, 'go play with your dolls; it is the same game that the saints indulge in with theirs.'
"As I descended the stairs still farther, I heard above me another surreptitious chuckle, followed by cheerful laughter.
"During a sleepless night, the late occurrences impressed themselves with glowing characters into my soul--the intoxication of bliss, and the anguish of renunciation--and hastening down from a brightly-illumined hill, I followed a woman wandering through chasms from one dark abyss to another; her tattered robe caught on every thorn, but her beautiful form gleamed from the depths below.
"Two days passed away in agonising excitement; I hoped Paulina in the meantime would have found leisure for calmer consideration; I, myself, adhered firmly to my given word, although I was aware that in the circle of my relatives who disapproved of my intercourse with the saints, of my connection with that beautiful woman, who was known to be one of the most zealous adherents of the much-abused creed, much annoyance would be caused, yes, that my father would perhaps refuse his consent altogether.
"Once more I visited the woman of what was truly my first love. I repeated my offer.
"She was friendly as ever, and welcomed me with the pious greeting of the community, and then said--
"'We will remain friends; I have spoken to him, the holy, the pure man; I have seen him with my eyes, he has taken me to his heart, he will teach and sanctify me, for he has pity upon my weakness. Then, however, I am to occupy a high position in the congregation; he recognises that in my inner being lies all that must call me to be a child of light.'
"She uttered it cheerfully, almost triumphantly, but I saw that this woman was lost to me for ever! I parted from her in despair.
"Since then I have never seen her again.
"When the secular powers interfered in the secrets of the new faith, when the leading preachers were summoned before the law, then the public voice spoke a verdict of condemnation upon all who belonged to that circle.
"Then I heard Frau Salden's name mentioned, whose guardianship of her child had been taken from her by the authorities, because a mother possessing such impious principles was not capable of bringing it up properly; I learned that she had banished herself to the greatest solitude upon her remote estate. I had contrived to have myself removed to the law courts of another province, but since that time the report of my participation in that community persecuted me. My relations to Frau Salden certainly had remained a secret; but it was sufficient that I had been a member of that despised circle, in order to cause me to be constantly overlooked and kept back in the early part of my career. I therefore relinquished it entirely, and wandered through distant quarters of the globe, so as to escape from the reproaches of others and from my own memories of the past. After many years I returned home, and to my pained astonishment found that those occurrences which I had deemed long since buried, still clung to people's recollections. But that is not the worst. A cold hand has taken hold of the new spring that arose brilliantly before me, and all its verdure and blossoms are transformed into crackling, withered leaves; inevitably, mortally the past seizes me as if it were a Medusa's head! That is a blow to my very heart, and after I have once more let the pictures of my life pass quietly before me, I may now at last utter one cry of anguish, like a wounded hart, that pants in vain to refresh itself at the sparkling forest spring.
"Eva's mother is that Frau Salden, who once was my spiritual bride! Thus the daughter can never become my earthly one; it is a calamity, it is my doom! No written law prohibits it; the world's opinion cannot condemn, as from it all remains a secret; but my irrefutable feeling rebels against it, it is impossible and I am utterly miserable that it is impossible."
With these words, Blanden had concluded his story. Without, the morning already lay sparkling over land and sea; Blanden started as a chance glance in the mirror showed him his own worn-out reflection.
Doctor Kuhl had merely interrupted his friend's tale now and again by a question or a remark, now he flung his finished cigar aside with the words, "The poor child!"
"And can you see no means of escape?" asked Blanden.
"No, one may bid defiance to laws, but not to one's personal feelings."
"Never have I been so helpless," cried Blanden, "so desperately helpless; I wander about like a criminal; I dare not approach either the mother or the daughter. May she learn the truth? What excuse is offered for my withdrawal, for behaviour that looks like a public insult?"
"Write a couple of lines to her now," said Kuhl, "but not all at once. The dose would be too severe. Leave the rest to the mother. And now go and sleep, my friend; you need a few hours' refreshment. I will forget the follies of human life, and simultaneously with the fire of the young sun plunge into the ocean tide. Until we meet again!"
The mother, after a violent attack of spasms, had fallen asleep.
Eva watched beside her bed; torn, its flowers crushed and mingling with her dishevelled locks, the blue-bell wreath hung around her brow; as if in mockery, the music of the interrupted feast resounded from afar; an old clock on the wall ticked second after second, and to Eva it seemed as if with each second her age increased by days, with each half hour by years, as though her life were running down with the noisy mechanism of the clock.
She put her hand to her burning temples; yes she must have become old, very old, during that night!
And was her mother not still young and beautiful--still now even, as she lay there with distorted features, with scorching breath, with violent throbbings of her pulses, in fevered dreams?
Eva gazed with infinite emotion upon the sleeping woman. All fond pictures of her childhood rose before her mind: she saw herself sitting at the window that looked out over meadow and river, her mother explained the pictures in her picture books; she still saw that lovely smile hover around those lips when they read aloud some merry verse which interpreted a gaily-coloured scene; then she saw herself with her mother in the evening light, in whose reflection the rafts glided along the river, and because everything was so beautiful and full of repose outside, and equally beautiful and calm her mother's countenance, she kissed and embraced that fondly beloved one with heartfelt fervour in a feeling of gratitude that knew no bounds, as though she must thank her mother for the glorious evening, and for every joy in her young life.
Then she stood again before her doll's house; her mother came to her and joined in her play, hour after hour. Every doll had its name and its character, and they met with sundry wonderful little occurrences. The daughter hung devoutly on her mother's lips, which chatted so merrily, and from which flowed such an inexhaustible spring of legends and fairy tales.
But when she prayed--and she prayed much--then the daughter might not disturb her. She always rose from her knees so mild and gentle, and her fervent eyes rested at those times with double happiness upon the beloved child.
Then gloomy days drew near, days of weeping and wailing. Eva wept too, she knew not wherefore, all was unquiet; everything moved around her as if in the flickering light of a scorching fire--but she could not tell whence the flames ascended. Cupboards were emptied, boxes packed; suddenly the hour of departure tolled--a never-to-be-forgotten hour filled with tears. How she rested upon her mother's heart, as though she could not tear herself away!
All these pictures passed before her mind, as after a meeting which was even more terrible than once the parting had been, and equally inexplicable, she sat beside her mother's sick bed. But the fever appeared to diminish; she breathed more softly, more quietly; the lamp went out, the first streaks of early dawn peeped through the window panes.
And with the first beams of morning, holy thoughts filled the daughter's breast; thoughts of the pleasures of sacrifice, such as in the dawn of history often filled the breasts of nations.
Oh, could she make this beautiful unhappy mother happy; she would sacrifice her heart's blood for that mother, gladly meet death for her sake!
She folded her hands; every thought, every emotion, was a blessing upon her mother, who had suffered, must still suffer so much.
And in these thoughts she forgot herself; her own life appeared to her like an expiring light, and she did not lament it.
And yet, she could not but again and again recollect that unheard of, that mysterious event which had taken place, for which with convulsive struggles she sought some elucidation.
One thing she felt assured of--the happiness of her life was destroyed, and perhaps the darkness in which she was shipwrecked contained more consolation than an unnatural light which illumined the intricate paths of her doom.
And he--how miserable must he be! It was the same flash of lightning that had struck them both.
The mother stirred; did the first ray of the sun disturb her? Immediately, Eva hung a dark shawl before the window, whose light curtains did not shield them from the joyous light of morning.
Then, with sonorous strokes, the clock on the wall struck five. Frau von Salden awoke.
Her first glance rested upon her daughter; her mind was still half wrapped in dreams, in the twilight of consciousness, the bliss of purest maternal love was reflected in her features. She saw that daughter, of whom she had been so long deprived, before her in all her youthful beauty which was even enhanced by anguish; delusive dreams as they escaped formed a golden frame to this picture, or as light veils fluttered over it, and, enthralled by such a lovely present, her soul knew nothing of the past or future.
Yet it was but for a moment; then a sudden ray of perfect consciousness enlightened her. She rubbed her eyes; the veils of her dreams fluttered to the ground, and with a loud cry she threw herself upon her child's bosom, whom she pressed closely to herself amidst scalding tears.
"My poor, poor Eva!"
"Mother, I am not unhappy--I will not be unhappy! I have no cares--only be cheerful yourself!"
"You love him so much, so fondly! That love, I can feel it with you, is your whole life. Oh, curse me! My presence brings you evil! Curse me!"
"Never," said Eva, "for I know that you love me. How could I curse love?"
"How poor we are though, with all our love! There where we would bring salvation, we bring ruin. Our love is like a pious wish, a powerless breath, which, hardly has it escaped our lips before it is transformed by invisible powers into a poisonous blast. I came hither with the richest treasure of blessings in my heart, although not without anxious fear; and now I shower abundant ills upon your head."
"I do not yet know what happened," whispered Eva. "I only know that I see you again, that you suffer and are unhappy, that Blanden has resigned me; but it is not I about whom we must concern ourselves just now--only about you! What has grieved you so, shocked you? I hardly dare to think--he is your enemy!"
"Not so," said Frau von Salden, shaking her head; "you poor, good child."
"You would conceal it from me--he is your enemy! Therefore you were so afraid, when you saw him--therefore he grew so pale at sight of you! Has he done anything to injure you; has he offended you deeply? Oh, he shall come and beg for forgiveness, upon his knees he shall lie before you; I promise it! So much power my wishes still possess over him--oh, yes, he loves me still; how could his love have vanished in one night! I will tell him that whosoever has offended my mother has no right to my love, that he must first win it by atonement and her pardon. I am still his little forest-fairy; he is still within my magic spell; when my little flower bells ring, let him struggle as he may, he must obey me! But when he comes and renounces his enmity and entreats you for pardon, little mother, then you will grant it him, will you not, perfectly, entirely, without any remains of the old ill-feeling?"
"You are dreaming," said Frau Salden, while she stared with a confused gaze at her daughter's countenance, and stroked her hair with a loving hand.
"You doubt that I still retain my power over him? Oh, I may look very ugly today, quite spoiled with tears; I am not always so, little mother, he knows that I have my good days, too. He thought me good-looking yonder upon the weeping willow-hill! Oh, heavens! The weeping willows bent down over our young love whispering misfortune, but you will talk to one another, of course! Everything will yet turn out well! Oh, those days were so beautiful, so ethereally beautiful! Have mercy, my mother! If it costs you one word to bring them back again, then speak that word; even if it be hard for you. I may acknowledge that great happiness for me depends upon it; control your anger!"
Frau Salden looked at her child with intense emotion.
"It is not that--if it only were so! Nothing would be too hard for me--no word, no deed--if I could found your happiness by them! But that power is not given to me; therefore we are both unhappy! But now go to sleep, my Eva! I am well; I will get up; but you have not closed an eye! How pale you look--where are the roses which yesterday bloomed so freshly in your cheeks? Go to sleep, only for a few hours--it will bring peace, rest, and courage! Who could endure life without sleep? It would be an uninterrupted agony; all pictures would score their burning impress in our brains. Sleep shrouds them beneath the softening veil, and we can confound them with our dreams."
"No, mother! that I can never do! If it were all but a dream my soul would still bleed to death from it."
Frau Salden had risen from her bed; she felt really better; only the internal conflict still remained imprinted in her features.
With unenvious pleasure, Eva contemplated her mother, as she sat before the mirror, in order to arrange her hair flowing down abundantly; she thought herself less beautiful, less bountifully endowed by Nature, than was the mother over whom years had passed tracelessly away; could she compete with that splendid figure, with that nobility, those decided movements, that charm of her fully-developed form?
She could not help it; she must fold her mother to her heart with words of glowing flattery.
Frau Salden struggled gently against the love of a child, for whom she had just prepared the greatest anguish of its life.
"Go to sleep, Eva," repeated she, with motherly anxiety.
"Sleep--it would be best! I cannot conceive that I could look with waking eyes at the people before whom I stood yesterday in such utter abasement. It would be impossible for me to show myself here to the gaping crowd. I must away, away from here; but I cannot part from you with this enigma unsolved. Mother! I implore you, give me certainty--I have courage to bear all."
"And you do not ask if I have courage to confess all?"
"Mother!" cried Eva, doubting and questioning, with the terror of presentiment.
"If it were so easy to lift the veil, should I not have raised it long since? If any happiness, any comfort could arise from it, should I hesitate with such a disclosure?"
"I would have the truth, mother--the truth! In positive certainty I shall recover my strength of mind, which is paralysed in this gnawing doubt."
Frau Salden rose from her toilet; the morning sun shone straight upon her face, she covered it with her hands; then she turned round, but a burning colour rested upon her features, and an internal tremor shook her form as if with ague.
"I belong to that community which was scattered by the law of the country; one of the rules of that sect demands full confession of our sins, by thought, word, or deed! It was often hard for us to make this confession before the Saints and Pure ones, and not to conceal aught of that which stirred our inmost souls; often have I stood there hesitating and seeking to veil that which I dared not confess, until the implacable word compelled me to acknowledge the whole truth without any fraudulent disguise; yet, what was that confession compared with the one of to-day--compared with the one by which the mother must ruin her daughter's happiness?"
"With clasped hands Eva looked imploringly at her mother.
"Well, then, bury your head in my lap; do not look at me; believe that it is the Angel of Judgment who speaks, who holds the rattling scales high above your head."
Eva knelt down before her mother, and leaned her head in her mother's lap.
"I do not hate Herr von Blanden--never have hated him--but I have loved him."
Noiselessly Eva slid down at her mother's feet. Only after some little time she recovered her senses in her parent's arms.
"I have loved him," repeated the mother, "and that is worse, far worse!"
"And you love him still?" asked Eva, "and you are angry with me that I would rob you of him? but he--how could he--"
"Listen to me, my child! We were both members of a devout community, misjudged by the world; this brought us closer together. A decision in council of the Superiors destined me for his spiritual bride!"
"Spiritual bride!--oh, my God!"
"That in our circle is deemed a bond, which is bound for all eternity!"
"And is not every bride a spiritual one, and every bond united for everlasting endurance?"
"The secret understanding of such matters is only revealed to the elect! But the mutual delights of devotion, the strengthening of the Divine Will in us, with the increasing danger of probation, all these exercises did not find us so strong as the faith and the prayers of the community required! Earthly affection took possession of our hearts. I offered weak resistance to his tempestuous passion. Let the dreadful word suffice you--I loved him."
Eva suppressed a loud cry, with lips firmly pressed together, and buried her head deeper in the folds of the dress.
"I was doubly guilty, because the holy work had led us to damnation. The penance inflicted for such impiety was lighter than I feared, because the superior leader of our community, blessed with especial powers of enlightenment, undertook to sanctify me, and I could soon stand purified from that sin. Now only the heavy punishment comes upon me, crushingly, annihilatingly. Too mild was the work of that atonement. Heaven has rejected it. I feel it, and now it dooms me to the full weight of its wrath. In deepest degradation I must humble myself before my own daughter, in order to destroy the happiness of whose life the spectre hand of that unholy, blissful hour is stretched forth from out the past. Forgive me, my beloved child!"
Eva rose pale, dissolved in tears, and put out her hand, as if in repudiation.
"I have nothing to forgive you, mother! I do not exalt myself so impiously as to wish to sit in judgment upon you. I could not but love you even unto death.--and you are not guilty! Oh, no--that you are not!"
"Guilty towards you," said Frau Salden, wringing her hands.
"None know what the future may bring," replied Eva; "it cannot be foretold. Human destiny is like a fleeting cloud: now it gleams in the full light of the sun at its mid-day height, or in the varying colours of its declining hour; then it flows down in tears. Many die in the bloom of youth; death is a doom; there is a death, too, for the heart. It comes, one knows not whence. It is not our fault. Mother, be calm! We have the same eyes, the same heart; must we not also have the same love?"
Eva looked out of the window, unwonted sublimity lay in her demeanour.
"Look; how the waves roll, and break upon the shore! Each one bears the rays of the same sun within it; now they spring exultingly in whirling foam, then die away upon the desolate strand! Mother, we are both wretched!"
And she hastened back and clasped Frau Salden to her heart, who gazed in fear at her daughter's excited manner.
"But no!" cried Eva suddenly, "what did I say of you? It is quite different for you, quite different. A question has long been hovering upon my lips; why, then, did you not become man and wife, if you loved one another? I must ask, I must; I can no longer endure the obscurity which o'ershadows everything! Life must be transparent for me, transparent--even if, like glass, it should break within my hands."
Frau Salden pressed her hand upon her heart; "We parted, he no longer shared my faith! In that faith only I could live!"
"Oh, mother, you will, you shall still be happy!"
"I cannot, now! Too much has happened since I submitted to the decree of sanctification, that must have appeared to him like doing wrong. He measures with a worldly measure--therefore, I am not worthy of him!"
"I will away to him, will entreat him, if still a particle of love for me--"
"Stay, stay, my child; never, never!"
"He shall make you happy, you! You have a prior right to him. Then I will forget everything myself, then, when you are, I will be happy."
"Foolish child! And if the past were dead; the daughter's lover to marry the mother, that is impossible, it would challenge all the scorn that in society lies ever watching for its prey. And he shall not become the victim of such scorn."
"The daughter, the daughter," said Eva, buried in quiet meditation, "she is the obstacle!"
"No, the mother alone it is, and if that weird spectre disappeared that stands between your felicity, if it vanished away into night from which it arose so inopportunely, if time with its increasing oblivion buried it--then, perhaps, once more, even if not to-morrow, nor the day after, but when a year had elapsed, the roses of love might bloom again upon this tomb."
"Never, never," said Eva, falling upon her knees before her mother. "I beseech you, urgently, such thoughts are impious, such deeds can alter nothing. Between him and me there lies an unfathomable chasm, no sacrifice can fill it up! I will not, I cannot be his wife; but between you and him no chasm exists, a bridge is still possible in your case!"
"Only the rainbow of your dreams arches it over. But I feel from your words how you love me, my only child, and with such undeserved love. Believe me, this is a moment in my life that outweighs years of joylessness."
And mother and daughter lay weeping in each other's arms.
A knock at the door! The Regierungsrath, with solemn, pallid mien, white as chalk, like his cravat, entered with Miranda, who must bend under the low door-way.
"Good morning, sister," said old Kalzow, "we come to fetch Eva. After yesterday's occurrence she must linger here no longer; she must return at once to Warnicken."
"We shall be alone there," added Miranda, "most of the visitors staying there returned straight home from here. The Kreisgerichtsrath, who proposed still remaining, was frightened out of our vicinity by that terrible event. Indeed, you bring too much, too much evil upon us."
And the Regierungsräthin dried a tear of pain and indignation in her eyes.
"My mother is ill," said Eva, "can I leave her now?"
"Ill?" cried Miranda, "Ill? Am I not so too? Are we not all ill? My poor husband has coughed during the whole morning, as though the betrothal had gone down the wrong side of his throat! The girl must away, and as truly as she is now our child, I shall guard her against any new encounter with my dear sister-in-law."
"But, my dear wife," said Kalzow.
"I never imagined it so bad!" continued Miranda, indomitably. "Wherever her past is touched, moths fly out! What happiness she has destroyed! Kulmitten, Rositten, Nehren; good heavens! the most beautiful estates in the world, a pleasant, handsome nobleman, and all in proper order! There she intrudes with her unhappy adventures, and everything ends in smoke! Had my good sister-in-law loved another saint, we could better have pardoned her for it."
Frau Salden stood in silence, her hand pressed upon her heart; but Eva cried amidst her sobs--
"Oh, my God! and all these insults for my sake! Why am I not dead!"
"Go with them, my child!" said Frau Salden. "You belong to them! Let me return home to the quiet solitude, which I only forsook to bring evil upon you. The air here breathes harshness and insults, I can hear it no longer!"
"Dear sister," said the Regierungsrath, who suddenly felt a sensation of pity, "if in Warnicken--"
"For heaven's sake," said the Räthin, angrily, "of what are you thinking? My nerves are not strong enough to endure the sight of a woman who has frustrated our most beautiful plans. And then I do not deny it, after all that has happened, I am anxious about my character."
"Miranda!" the Rath said, with timid wrath.
"We must call things by their true names. Report will string together what we conceal, and it will not find much to spare."
"Do not fear," said Frau Salden, with haughty coldness, "I will not annoy you with my presence, hard as it will be for me just now to part from my daughter. Farewell, then, Eva, and tell me only once more that you love me!"
"Inexpressibly, my mother!"
And she lay in the other's arms.
"Then go in peace."
Eva tottered to the door, half dragged away by Miranda, yet she turned round once more for a last fond farewell. Then, as if she had made some resolve, with a majestic look upon her features she left the room with a firm step.
But Frail Salden sank upon the couch, buried her face in the cushions, and let her irrepressible flowing tears take their unrestrained course.
A few weeks had elapsed since the above-named events. The sea-side places had become empty; the Regierungsrath was seated behind his documents, but Miranda was still at the fisherman's cottage by the sea; she had to nurse Eva, who was taken dangerously ill immediately after her arrival in Warnicken. She was seized with a nervous fever, and wild delirious fancies chased her frightened spirit about in mad career.
Blanden had not set out for his estate; he had retired to the Chief Forester's house, in the deepest woodland solitude; he felt most at home with his father's worthy friend--and he needed the comfort of friendship. It is true that the old gentleman never led the conversation to Blanden's late experiences, but in his fresh, sterling nature, in his devotion to his profession, lay a power which was capable of holding enthralled the evil spirits of a distracted life.
Often they strolled together through the woods, rejoiced at the young, flourishing growth, at the tall oaks, in whose shade Romove's bloody recollections still seemed to dwell, at the sunny glades, across which stags and hinds wandered, visible from afar.
But he loved best to go alone, in a tempest that whirled through the tops of the trees, broke off boughs and branches, and hurled them to the ground, and when all other voices were rendered mute before that of the hurricane, then he believed to hear in it the cry of that almighty destiny before which nothing can exist, and that pursues its own course above the head of man.
But what enchained him most was the vicinity to Warnicken. He knew of Eva's illness, intelligence which had thrown him into a state of feverish excitement. The doctor, to whom he often rode over to make enquiries, prohibited him from visiting the sick bed as it would be dangerous for the patient's life. But how often Blanden stood upon the wooded cliffs, and gazed with intense anguish as they gleamed in the evening light upon the simple attic windows, behind which the beloved, to him lost, maiden lay in fever's delirious phantasies!
On several occasions, as he returned home at a late hour from Warnicken, he fancied that footsteps were following him, as though the bushes behind him rustled; but he did not think of danger, and when on casting a cursory glance round he perceived nothing, he deemed it beneath him to make any exertions to discover who might dog his steps.
Once he was returning home on a stormy evening, and the rustling in the forest, the groaning and cracking of the boughs accompanied his steps. He had learned from the doctor that Eva had passed all danger, and was now on the way towards recovery. He felt a sensation of pain, mingled with pleasure, at this. Did not life lie joylessly before the convalescent girl? And had he the power to alter it? His love still often rebelled with brilliant sophisms against the resolution of renunciation; it was a course of tempest's triumphant passion, which hoped to destroy as mere prejudice the resistance of an invincible feeling. But always in vain. The feeling remained impervious to all attacks.
The storm had died away. Blanden could not sleep, and looked out into the moonlight night, which silvered the gloomy forest, and upward to the transparent, starry sky. Venus stood on the horizon, higher still, yellow, sparkling Mars, like an envious orb, that seemed to cast a hostile light upon the soft planet of love. An image of his life; an envious fate did not vouchsafe the peaceful bliss to him, for which his soul had striven with such ardent longing.
The window was situated in the basement story of the house, and led into a little garden, with shrubs and turf growing as nature planted them. There, again, was a rustle in the nearest thorn hedge, and Blanden thought to perceive a gay-coloured dress behind the thorny bushes. At the same moment the Forester's yard dog began to bark, and the dress, clutched together in alarm, disappeared behind the fence. Blanden sprang out of the window and went towards the apparition. Through an opening in the hedge two great eyes peered at him, as in strange astonishment, and, scratched and bleeding from the thorns, the idiot fisher girl crouched behind the fence.
When she perceived him, she pushed right through the prickly bushes, threw herself down at his feet, and kissed his hands; she clung to his knees, and looked up beseechingly at him.
"What do you want? Have you often followed me?" he asked the girl; she shook her head in alarm.
"Do not deny it; you have probably already passed many a night upon this meadow? Only lately I remarked a bright coloured dress here about midnight; but I imagined it was hung up there to dry. Do not deny it!"
He spoke the last words in a firm, loud voice.
Kätchen considered for a moment, then nodded her head, while she clasped her hands imploringly.
"Have you any message for me? Have you anything to say to me?"
The girl was silent.
"Why do you rove about here alone at night? Why do you not remain in Warnicken?"
"She is ill--she will die--Kätchen lives!" said the little one, as she suddenly rose and extended her arms, as though she would press Blanden to her heart.
"Poor child, you must not stay here! The night-dew will make you ill; I will see about a night's quarters for you with the maidservant. But you must not return here again; I forbid it--the dogs here are let loose upon uninvited, nocturnal visitors."
Blanden knocked at the bedroom door of the Forester's servant, and pretended Kätchen was a messenger who had come at night, and must have some place to rest in.
"The idiot child loves me," he said to himself, "her frog's eyes receive a gleam of intellect when she looks at me! And then she crouches behind the sloe hedge, treated in as step-motherly a manner as that unhappy fruit which would gladly be a plum, but which tarries for ever in sour immaturity. Nothing is more touching than these half-human beings, with their distorted souls! An evidence of the poverty of Creation's plan! It may be vast and grand upon the whole, but it can value the human mind but little which it can thus embitter! Certainly it often seems as if the comprehension of the world and of life creeps with astounding suddenness into the twilight of such minds."
On the following day, a rainy one, which drew a melancholy grey net over the whole sky, Blanden sat lost in thought beneath the eaves of the forest house; he was stroking the bull-dog which had placed itself at his feet, listening contentedly to the monotonous plashing from the water pipes, while it only reminded Blanden of the everlasting sameness of human life, and a sensation of as infinite weariness overcame him, at the regular fall of the drops, as he should have felt at the tick-tack of an old clock on a wall. All measurement of time oppressed him; life at such moments only appeared to him to be a nervous struggle to avoid hearing the beats marking its flight, the pulse-like throb of the seconds, the chiming of the hours, and like a clock's hands passing away over the thin and thick lines, over that empty scheme of time, whose laws we are to carry out, well or ill, often when our heart's blood is being shed.
He thought of Paulina, of Eva--and when he wished to forget the inevitable, other cares of life arose to his mind; he had been without news from Kulmitten for some time, and the election to the Provincial Diet must have taken place within the last few days; perhaps his participation in public life could console him for the miscarriage of the hopes of his heart.
He was awoke out of these dreams by the noise of an approaching carriage; in the woodland solitude of the forest house, the arrival of visitors was quite an event.
Two men sat in the conveyance; the one in a dripping mackintosh was his friend von Wegen; in the other, who on descending lifted a ponderous chest with care out of the carriage and deposited it immediately in safety beneath the verandah, he recognised the strange amber merchant.
Wegen shook himself like a dog coming out of the water.
"Desperate weather! Heaven opens its sluices--a perfect deluge; the roads abominable--one longs to make the Landrath drive upon them from morning to night. If they are thus already in summer, one ought to make one's will in winter before trusting oneself to these causeways of logs."
"You are heartily welcome," cried Blanden to his friend, and shaking him by the hand. "What brings you hither in this tropical downpour of rain?"
"A very ungratifying piece of news, which I must explain; besides, I bring a dealer with me, who went to find you at Kulmitten; he brings costly goods, which he says were ordered by you, and which he would be loth to place in other hands; I therefore considered it best to bring him with me."
The amber merchant stepped forward and announced that he had punctually executed Herr von Blanden's orders.
The latter nodded and signed to him to open the box.
The toilet casket of amber, the billing little doves, the bracelets and necklaces, everything gleamed in perfect workmanship, so that Blanden rejoiced at sight of the beautifully formed works of art, and expressed ready admiration of the delicate, exquisite ornaments.
Then only did the melancholy feeling assert itself completely and fully that his amber-nymph, whom he would have decked with all the treasures of the deep, was lost to him. He turned aside in order to conceal a tear in his eye.
Wegen felt for his friend, but sought as quickly as possible to overcome the most painful sadness.
"You might hand over that rubbish to me," said he. "I shall be engaged some day--I quite lost my heart at that dance beneath the pear-tree, and the lucky finder thereof knows my address. Even if it cost all my rye-harvest--what will one not do, when any especial happiness in life befalls one?"
"I shall not part with these ornaments," replied Blanden. "Yes; who knows I may yet deck my lost bride with them, as I could not adorn her whom I had won. She shall preserve these jewels for a lasting recollection of a spring-time in her life which was all too soon destroyed by tempests. Should she cease to be my friend, because she may not be my wife? It is folly that we must fly from one another like criminals, as though lightning had struck the earth between us, because no inward change--because only external fate separated our hearts."
Wegen nodded approvingly; the two guest chambers in the forest house were assigned to him and to the amber merchant, who, according to Blanden's desire, had brought his account with him.
Wegen returned to his friend, after having assumed dry clothes; he began to feel comfortable once more over a glass of negus and a cigar.
Nevertheless, he hesitated with the communication which he had to make, and moved about uneasily upon the sofa while puffing vast clouds of smoke into the air.
"Well, and the election?" began Blanden.
"What a pity about that splendid election-dinner," replied Wegen.
"I am not returned?" asked Blanden, excitedly.
"Alas, no!" replied his friend, while shaking his hand. "Now it is out! Now let us talk it over quietly."
"Tell me about it," said Blanden. The words forced themselves out with difficulty. At that moment he had become poorer by one great hope.
"It is always the old story, which ever remains new," said Wegen. "Since the dinner all was running most smoothly; even the sheep-breeder was well-disposed, and only Frau Baronin von Fuchs moved Heaven and earth to circumvent the election of a man with such a dubious past. You know woman's indefatigability when she wishes to carry a point; she offered me 'check' on every side with admirable persistency. No sooner had my brown pair left the gates, before her dappled greys appeared. She was like the evil fairy in the tale. She did not turn to the men but to the women, and she holds a position amongst them, because she possesses an imposing mind, in the presence of which one like ourselves does not feel comfortable, that outrageous decision of thought and action which allows no contradiction to arise. To marry such a woman requires courage; I am sorry for poor Baron von Fuchs. He is a well-bred, pleasant gentleman, but he is not equal to his wife's eloquence. If women possess intellect, which sometimes happens, it is sure to be of an amazing quality, and can inspire one of us with alarm."
"Well, Cäcilie von Dornau possesses intellect also. Take care of yourself!" said Blanden, playfully, hoping thus to overcome his mournful mood.
"That is quite different! Hers is intellect of a most refined kind; those are the golden threads ofespritwith which they entangle us; but with Frau von Fuchs they are ship ropes of logic with which she flogs us."
"But, to the matter, friend!"
"The victory was in no wise certain for her; because, even if she did gain the women, the men steadily held their ground. Then came two pieces of intelligence which made their triumph quite complete. The rumour of your engagement in Neukuhren, of the commotion which Frau von Salden's arrival called forth suddenly arose on the shores of our Masuren lakes, and was circulated most inexplicably, naturally improved in the most appalling manner! How the people in that killing monotony thirst after any tale of scandal, and live upon it for long, like the camel of the desert upon the water that it collects in the store-closets of its interior! You should have seen the Frau Baronin's dapple-greys then, they absolutely flew along the forest roads and pawed the flags of every gentleman's courtyard with their hoofs! Wherever I went--and this time I followed her tracks--all was in flames, and I arrived too late with my fire buckets. I could reduce the exaggerations of the rumour to their true value, but the fact remained, and I could not refute it. The evil of it was, that this most recent event brought the past into broad daylight, and it was even difficult for those who were well-disposed to pass on to the business of the day, taking no more notice of it than they would of a dark legend whose moth-like flight they do not wish to rouse again."
"Withered leaves!" cried Blanden, "beneath their foliage they choke up every flower of spring that ventures forth into light; the arch enemy of our future is our past. Are we not like galley-slaves, who are seared with an ineffaceable brand? The spectral clatter of the chains accompanies us through life."
"But most unfortunately it must just happen that now at this especial moment the verdict of the second court upon the leading ministers of that community should be given after a delay of many years. It was far, far milder than the verdict of the first court, but it brought the affair forward again. Public opinion was busied with it; even in our circle the discussion was renewed of that story, long since forgotten, which was suddenly served up again as freshly as champagne in ice. And, in the midst of this disturbance of the ghosts, fell our election day! That you were not present displeased many, although, under the circumstances, they considered it only natural. You had many votes, even Baron Fuchs voted for you; it was a daring deed, and evil tongues maintained that a matrimonial divorce hovered in the air; the Landrath, too, with his nearest dependants, stood upon your side. But you could not attain a majority; that voting against you was a sort of trial by ordeal, that declared the principal landowner in the neighbourhood to be excommunicated."
"And thus I look upon it," cried Blanden. "All my hopes are destroyed! A domestic hearth, a busy, active life, political labour for the welfare of the Province for the honour of my name--all lies in ruin and ashes. Nothing else remains to me, save only to plough my acres, to bury myself in my forest loneliness, and even, like an outlaw, to shirk my neighbour's glance. Can I endure it? Or shall I venture forth again into a world of adventures from which an internal lack of contentment drove me back? Truly the old adage applies to me, that we are the forgers of our own destinies; but the forms into which they have once been wrought upon the anvil, are maintained for evermore, and when we would re-mould them the hammer becomes paralysed in our hands."
Wegen sought to console his friend in a good-natured manner; he should stand firmly by Blanden in good and evil times--they, and those who held similar views, were still a considerable party; but Blanden hardly listened to those words of consolation; he relapsed into deep melancholy, so that Wegen deemed it best to leave him to his own thoughts.
Blanden had all the sensation of having lost a decisive game upon the chess-board of life; the ashen-grey sky without, the unceasing drip of the rain, were in unison with the internal fatigue that had paralysed all his mental motives of incitement. Nothing now seemed worth wishing, worth struggling for; did not everything turn against him; he comprehended theNirvanaof the Buddhists.
The amber merchant departed on the following morning; then Blanden was particularly struck with the man's rugged, furrowed features; his whole demeanour told of a ruined, wasted life. When he had received the heavy price for his goods, and had the door-latch in his hand, he turned suddenly round once more, and while closely contracting his bushy eyebrows, and darting evil-boding flashes from his glowing eyes, he asked--
"You can probably tell me, Herr von Blanden, where the Signora now lives whom you once visited on Lago Maggiore?"
"Why do you ask this question?"
"I have a reason for interesting myself in that lady."
"She does not owe you anything? Certainly in those days you did not deal in amber?"
"My interest in her is of another kind, and in addition my secret."
"But how do you know--"
"I stood on the shore of the Lago as you and she stepped out of the gondola; I stood at the gate of the garden whence you issued at an early morning hour."
"Ah! now I recollect--you followed me even, so that I might have taken you for a hired bravo."
"You would have been mistaken. I am an honest man."
"But the right to ask questions lies with me. You know that lady, who is she?"
"If she chooses to envelop herself in mystery, I am the last who should like to betray it."
"You are a political agent?"
"Perhaps! At all events I am very anxious to speak to her, and I have reason to suppose that you know where she may be found."
"Then you are mistaken."
"People say they saw her here in Prussia."
"That is quite possible; but--I do not know where she is staying."
The conversation on both sides was conducted curtly and antagonistically. As the amber merchant turned to go, Blanden called after him.
"You are in possession of a secret; chance made you acquainted with that nocturnal meeting."
"Chance?" said the amber merchant, turning round, "chance? Do you know if it was chance?"
His countenance looked menacing, he clenched his hand as if convulsively.
"It is all the same," said Blanden, shortly, "I shall expect you to be silent about it."
"Who would trouble themselves about an adventure on Lago Maggiore?" said the amber merchant, with a scoffing smile. "And yet--I know someone for whom this adventure has its price. However, we have just had a deal together, and I am amiable towards my customers, I shall betray you to no one. Farewell!"
Blanden felt as though relieved from some weight when the strangely disagreeable guest had left room and house. Although this man's face bore traces of wild good-looks, yet the decay of his features, their malign, sly expression, had something repellant about them.
Blanden was quite in the mood to seek on every side for hostile powers that interfered in his life, and this stranger possessed the power so to do, and of his ill-will there was no doubt. One thing was unquestionable, that the fairy of Lago Maggiore was at present staying in Prussia; her visit to the Ordensburg proved that. Was it by chance that her weird shadow also, which had accompanied her on Lago Maggiore, had followed her hither? What were his intentions, what was his connection with her? And what had driven her here to these remote districts?
Blanden exhausted himself in conjectures, each of which lacked any firm foundation; but it was the wandering of a mind taking counsel of itself; the picture of that seductive beauty only passed like a veil before his spirit, because the latter was wholly filled with another, with the picture of that unfortunate girl whom he loved so fondly, and yet must repel so coldly.
The doctor's information, meanwhile, became steadily more satisfactory; Eva had almost quite recovered; might go out walking in the open air, and soon, so it was said, leave the sea-side again, and return to the capital.
Then Blanden believed that the moment had arrived for him to take leave of the girl, or to transform the lover into the friend. He had not followed Dr. Kuhl's advice to write to her; he had, indeed, seated himself before the writing-table, but he had been obliged to tear up four or five sheets of paper after the first few lines, so little did he succeed in saying what he felt, or in confiding the compulsory cause of their separation to tell-tale paper. He therefore gave up the idea of coming to an understanding with Eva by letter; he would see and speak to her. Meanwhile she must surely have learned from her mother that which he could not tell her himself. Her indisposition had, until now, prevented him seeing her; now this obstacle was removed, he might approach the convalescent.
He had made the firm resolution, appointed the day, and set out upon the road with his friend. They traversed the forest on foot; the box containing his amber treasures, which he intended to give to Eva to-day, was entrusted to some safe conveyance, and had been already delivered up at the Warnicken hotel, before the wanderers' arrival.
It was a trying walk for Blanden, but in his soul dwelled the hope of being able to hold out the hand of friendship to his beloved one, across that chasm which divided their love. What was left to them but painful renunciation; but is not the life of most mortals doomed to it?
Wegen was in a most cheerful mood; he sang and leaped, and described Cäcilie's advantages to his friend with inexhaustible loquacity.
Olga was obliged to retire far into the background; her ponderous nature, her Turkish beauty, the sensual expression of her lips and eyes--how could she compare with that graceful figure, with the mental activity and refinement of her sister?
And when Blanden suggested that Cäcilie loved Dr. Kuhl, Wegen broke out into triumphant laughter.
"No fear of that, my dear friend! She may like him for the sake of his strange ideas, but she thinks, like Homunculus, he only loves the fair sex in the plural; she prefers the singular, and all girls must vote for that! I do not remember now what sort of a part Homunculus played--."
"He lives in the bottle," said Blanden, "and that is a new point of resemblance to Dr. Kuhl."
"All the same," replied Wegen, "I use that term of mockery for him now, and I do not fear him."
"He who offers his heart and hand to a girl, has an advantage over the lover who goes out in search of casual adventures. Cäcilie knows that my intentions are honest; I am certainly not so intellectual as the Doctor, but a few acres of good soil are worth more than a wholeorbis pictusof genius that floats up aloft in the air--girls are more practical than we think."
"You may be right," replied Blanden, "many only make use of the throbs of their hearts to enable them to learn addition; but there are many exceptions, brilliant exceptions: there are girlish hearts which live and die in their love."
With this last melancholy turn the conversation was interrupted for some time.
Blanden thought of his Eva, and of the pain of seeing her again, and Wegen would not disturb his friend in such gloomy dreams.
Blanden's heart beat violently when the roof of the homely inn gleamed forth beneath the trees.
How often had he been there lately; but only sorrow for the dangerously sick girl then had filled his mind; to-day it was the anxious anticipation of a half longed-for, half-dreaded meeting that caused his spirit to be in such a state of vacillation.
In the hope of encountering her on the forest paths, in the Wolfs-schlucht, or upon the Fuchs-spitze, he wandered along the shaded walks, but his hopes had been in vain.
Arrived at the summit, he directed his glance towards the little fisherman's-cottage; the attic window, usually covered with curtains, stood open, and the afternoon sun streamed in with all its force. Eva had left the sick room.
All around was silence, all seemed to be dead! What should he do? To seek the Regierungsräthin, and ask her about her daughter, was to him the most unwelcome course, because in that lady's eyes he must appear like a criminal, and he would not expose himself to her reproachful glance.
It seemed best to contrive to get a little note conveyed to the daughter's hands, and to invite her to a walk to the Fuchs-spitze; half-witted Kätchen might serve as an unsuspected messenger.
Thus the two friends sat in undecided consultation. The more slanting rays of the sun fell through the tops of the oaks. Alternating in light and shade, the ocean waves played in manifold colours; it was as though a broken rainbow had sunk down into them; here they appeared light green, there deep blue, alternating with violet and reddish tints. A black bank of clouds hung in the west, swallowing up the setting sun more and more, but yonder, where lighter fleecy clouds broke away in smaller portions, it enframed the orb of day in a glowing triumphal portal that cast its radiant reflection into the billows.