*      *      *      *      *Steven parted the curtains and stood looking down upon the sleeping figure.So the bird had come home, after all! Sidonia lay like the weary child she was, wrapped in so profound a slumber, the slumber of exhaustion, that even d'Albignac's noisy presence had failed to disturb her. Her slender arms were outflung, her hands faintly curled in an attitude of utter relaxation. Through parted lips her breath came as placidly as an infant's. The yellow hair sprang in tangled masses round the little pale face. Never had her extreme youth so utterly betrayed itself. But how wan she seemed; how worn out through all the placidity of her repose! The narrow satin skirts were frayed and sodden; one little silk-clad foot out-thrust, shoeless, was stained with mud—aye, and streaked with blood.His child-wife...!Over what rough ways had she come to him? Skirting what chasm, blacker, deeper, more relentless than the Burgrave'soubliette! Slowly, hardly wotting what he did, Steven went down on his knees beside her, unconsciously still clutching d'Albignac's paper. Over and above the old protective tenderness, an infinite tide of love flooded his whole being.—His child-wife!The watchman was chanting the tale of the first morning hour, when, close upon a peremptory knock at the door, Geiger-Hans broke hurriedly into the room. He halted, though his mission was urgent, at sight of Steven's countenance.[image]His child-wife...! The watchman was chanting the tale of the first morning hour, when, close upon a peremptory knock, Geiger-Hans broke into the room."Aha, all is well, then," he cried sharply, as the young man rose from his knees and came forward to meet him, and his own haggard features were suddenly illumined as by a reflection of the joy marked in the other's eyes. And then, it was no surprise to him that Sidonia, waking, should presently thrust out her rosy face between the curtains: he had already known, through Steven's eyes, that the children he loved were together."Steven!" cried Sidonia."Ah, Sidonia...!"He ran to her. And, regardless of Geiger-Hans, they clasped each other, the deed of annulment dropping between them.*      *      *      *      *"Now, children!" said Geiger-Hans, briskly—he was laughing, but the tears, which few had ever seen before in them, glittered in his eyes—"you will have plenty of time by and by; now it is haste, haste, haste! I have a carriage for you waiting below. Ha, little Madame Sidonia, laugh with me! It is the Burgravine's own carriage—nothing less! Nay, German wives do not so easily escape their husbands, even at Jerome's court. My Lady Burgravine makes no journeying to-night, or ever, if I may prophesy, away from her lord! Aberlineand four good posthorses ... 'twere pity to waste them! Quick, children! For I tell you night may not be over ere the storm break on this town!"Sidonia had little preparation to make. She put on her cloak. From the depths of her hood, her happy eyes looked inquiringly at the fiddler."Where are we going?" she asked."Where?" replied the wanderer, "where, but to the forest, to the green arms that will hold your love so safely, so discreetly? To the quiet and peace of the forest, before you shape your way together, children, into the great noisy world. To the simplicity of the forest, you, young magnate, that you may for ever afterwards have a memory of love as the breath of nature itself to haunt you in your grandeur. To the Forest House, you, little madam, whither I once brought a youth who was missing his springtime and had lost his way, that he might find them both."*      *      *      *      *The fiddler sat on the box, and the horses went roundly. The rain had given place to a heavy autumnal mist, soaking, all encompassing. It muffled every sound, the drumming of the hoofs in the mud, the roll of the wheels, the very clack of the whip. But he drove with extraordinary sureness and speed in spite of the gloom, and the lamps of theberlinesoon cast their flashes out upon the flying ghosts of the poplars on the desert country road. It seemed as if the night, the whole world, connived at the lovers' flight, gathered round them in screening mystery and silence.Sidonia lay on her husband's shoulder, half dreaming again in happy weariness, lulled by the monotonous movement and rhythm. It was from a profound sleep that she started suddenly with a faint cry:"What was that?"—A dull boom was still droning in her ears."That was cannon," said Steven.At this moment the carriage drew up, and they could hear the fiddler calling to them. Steven put his head out of the window and saw the dark face with its sardonic smile, lit up by the carriage-lamp, looking down at him."Did you mark that, comrade?—and again! Ha, there goes little brother Jerome's little throne! Hey, what a scuttle there be yonder now! My children, you have not run away together one hour too soon. That will no doubt be Csernischeff and his Cossacks; they have made good use of the first autumn fog. It is in with them by the Leipzig gate, no doubt—of ill omen! And few of our honest Westphalians will care to turn out to-night and be spitted or shot for the sweet eyes of Jerome. It is the end this time—meet that it should be our friends the Huns that do the scavenging.... You remember them, Count Steven, the carrion crows on the trail...?"Sidonia pulled her husband back that she might look out in her turn. The red glow of some distant conflagration was beginning to be faintly perceptible behind them in the pall of fog. She had heard the fiddler's explanation, and rejoiced in her young, unforgiving heart. Yet already Cassel and its terrors were fading from her mind. She sniffed the wet air as a doe might; and while the fiddler gazed down at her, an air of tender amusement driving the scorn from his face, she strained her ear as though to catch some secret sounds."Yes, child," said he, nodding at her; "yes, it is the woods you smell, the trees you hear. Yonder is the inn of The Three Ways, and presently we shall turn into the forest road."Sidonia sank back beside Steven, a smile upon her lips. Then they both became aware that they could see each other in a strange glimmer that was scarcely yet light. Without, the mist was now white, torn ever and anon by swaying streaks of faint blue."It is the new day," said she under her breath."The day that is ours," said Steven. And as they kissed, the horses' hoofs struck upon the ascent and the great trees sprang up about them.By sunset they reached the Forest House.And when the Forest-Mother beheld them, she clapped her hands and laughed, and called on heaven and all the saints, and then kissed them all three—a freedom she never could recall afterwards without amazement—and, finally, she flung her blue embroidered apron over her head and wept aloud in gladness.But nothing could hamper the preparation of the finest supper that ever the Forest House had seen; and about it there drew together such a happy company as even its happy walls had never held before.By and by they sat round the great hearth. Some one asked Geiger-Hans for music. But he shook his head. And spells of silence ever more frequent and prolonged began to fall between the talking and laughing; the great peace of the forest was drawing about the lovers and holding them close even as he had prophesied. As the light of the fire played upon the musician's face it showed a great serenity. It was a blessed evening."You will always live with us, dear Geiger-Hans," said Sidonia over and over again. And each time he made no answer, but smiled as if content.*      *      *      *      *Now, in the wonderful dawn of the forest, Steven awoke; and though his heart was as a bird's in spring for happiness, yet was there a sense of trouble, of anxiety, upon him which had seemed woven into his dreams.They had left their window open to the moonlight, and it had flooded in upon them, but the dawn mystery without held aloof, veiled from sight like an Eastern bride. Thin grey vapours hung as a curtain before the open casement. Steven sat up, his pulses beating fast. He strained his ear; heard flutter of leaves, drip of dew, chirp of awakening birds ... then a faint strain of music that seemed as if it passed through a dream. The melody grew more distinct, though still subdued; it rose, softly plaintive; it was joyous and yet sad, secret and yet an appeal. And through it all there was a rhythm as of restless feet:—it was a melody of love, of farewell, of wandering. Fainter it grew, and was lost once more in the whispers of the woods. At last it was silent, yet still it seemed to sing.A sudden pain gripped Steven's heart. He knew that Geiger-Hans had gone out of their lives for ever.[image]The EndThe End*      *      *      *      *      *      *      *THE PRIDE OF JENNICOBeing a Memoir of Captain Basil JennicoBy AGNES and EGERTON CASTLEYOUNG APRILBy EGERTON CASTLEAuthor of "The Pride of Jennico"Illustrated by A. B. WenzellHEART'S DESIRETHE STORY OF A CONTENTED TOWN, CERTAIN PECULIARCITIZENS, AND TWO FORTUNATE LOVERSBy EMERSON HOUGHAuthor of "The Mississippi Bubble," etc., etc.With Illustrations by F. B. MastersYOLANDAMAID OF BURGUNDYBy CHARLES MAJORAuthor of "Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall,""When Knighthood was in Flower," etc.Illustrated by Charlotte Weber DitzlerLADY BALTIMOREBy OWEN WISTERAuthor of "The Virginian," etc., etc.With Numerous IllustrationsFAIR MARGARETA PORTRAITBy F. MARION CRAWFORDAuthor of "Saracinesca," "Whosoever Shall Offend,""In the Palace of the King," etc., etc.With six full-page Illustrations by Horace T. CarpenterTHE MACMILLAN COMPANY64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORKBy Agnes & Egerton CastleROSE OF THE WORLDFRENCH NANTHE STAR DREAMERTHE PRIDE OF JENNICOTHE SECRET ORCHARDTHE BATH COMEDYINCOMPARABLE BELLAIRSTHE HOUSE OF ROMANCEBy Egerton CastleYOUNG APRILTHE LIGHT OF SCARTHEYCONSEQUENCESMARSH FIELD the OBSERVERLA BELLA AND OTHERSSCHOOLS AND MASTERS OF FENCEENGLISH BOOK-PLATESTHE JERNINGHAM LETTERSLE ROMAN DU PRINCE OTHON*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKIF YOUTH BUT KNEW!***
*Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *
Steven parted the curtains and stood looking down upon the sleeping figure.
So the bird had come home, after all! Sidonia lay like the weary child she was, wrapped in so profound a slumber, the slumber of exhaustion, that even d'Albignac's noisy presence had failed to disturb her. Her slender arms were outflung, her hands faintly curled in an attitude of utter relaxation. Through parted lips her breath came as placidly as an infant's. The yellow hair sprang in tangled masses round the little pale face. Never had her extreme youth so utterly betrayed itself. But how wan she seemed; how worn out through all the placidity of her repose! The narrow satin skirts were frayed and sodden; one little silk-clad foot out-thrust, shoeless, was stained with mud—aye, and streaked with blood.
His child-wife...!
Over what rough ways had she come to him? Skirting what chasm, blacker, deeper, more relentless than the Burgrave'soubliette! Slowly, hardly wotting what he did, Steven went down on his knees beside her, unconsciously still clutching d'Albignac's paper. Over and above the old protective tenderness, an infinite tide of love flooded his whole being.—His child-wife!
The watchman was chanting the tale of the first morning hour, when, close upon a peremptory knock at the door, Geiger-Hans broke hurriedly into the room. He halted, though his mission was urgent, at sight of Steven's countenance.
[image]His child-wife...! The watchman was chanting the tale of the first morning hour, when, close upon a peremptory knock, Geiger-Hans broke into the room.
[image]
[image]
His child-wife...! The watchman was chanting the tale of the first morning hour, when, close upon a peremptory knock, Geiger-Hans broke into the room.
"Aha, all is well, then," he cried sharply, as the young man rose from his knees and came forward to meet him, and his own haggard features were suddenly illumined as by a reflection of the joy marked in the other's eyes. And then, it was no surprise to him that Sidonia, waking, should presently thrust out her rosy face between the curtains: he had already known, through Steven's eyes, that the children he loved were together.
"Steven!" cried Sidonia.
"Ah, Sidonia...!"
He ran to her. And, regardless of Geiger-Hans, they clasped each other, the deed of annulment dropping between them.
*Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *
"Now, children!" said Geiger-Hans, briskly—he was laughing, but the tears, which few had ever seen before in them, glittered in his eyes—"you will have plenty of time by and by; now it is haste, haste, haste! I have a carriage for you waiting below. Ha, little Madame Sidonia, laugh with me! It is the Burgravine's own carriage—nothing less! Nay, German wives do not so easily escape their husbands, even at Jerome's court. My Lady Burgravine makes no journeying to-night, or ever, if I may prophesy, away from her lord! Aberlineand four good posthorses ... 'twere pity to waste them! Quick, children! For I tell you night may not be over ere the storm break on this town!"
Sidonia had little preparation to make. She put on her cloak. From the depths of her hood, her happy eyes looked inquiringly at the fiddler.
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Where?" replied the wanderer, "where, but to the forest, to the green arms that will hold your love so safely, so discreetly? To the quiet and peace of the forest, before you shape your way together, children, into the great noisy world. To the simplicity of the forest, you, young magnate, that you may for ever afterwards have a memory of love as the breath of nature itself to haunt you in your grandeur. To the Forest House, you, little madam, whither I once brought a youth who was missing his springtime and had lost his way, that he might find them both."
*Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *
The fiddler sat on the box, and the horses went roundly. The rain had given place to a heavy autumnal mist, soaking, all encompassing. It muffled every sound, the drumming of the hoofs in the mud, the roll of the wheels, the very clack of the whip. But he drove with extraordinary sureness and speed in spite of the gloom, and the lamps of theberlinesoon cast their flashes out upon the flying ghosts of the poplars on the desert country road. It seemed as if the night, the whole world, connived at the lovers' flight, gathered round them in screening mystery and silence.
Sidonia lay on her husband's shoulder, half dreaming again in happy weariness, lulled by the monotonous movement and rhythm. It was from a profound sleep that she started suddenly with a faint cry:
"What was that?"—A dull boom was still droning in her ears.
"That was cannon," said Steven.
At this moment the carriage drew up, and they could hear the fiddler calling to them. Steven put his head out of the window and saw the dark face with its sardonic smile, lit up by the carriage-lamp, looking down at him.
"Did you mark that, comrade?—and again! Ha, there goes little brother Jerome's little throne! Hey, what a scuttle there be yonder now! My children, you have not run away together one hour too soon. That will no doubt be Csernischeff and his Cossacks; they have made good use of the first autumn fog. It is in with them by the Leipzig gate, no doubt—of ill omen! And few of our honest Westphalians will care to turn out to-night and be spitted or shot for the sweet eyes of Jerome. It is the end this time—meet that it should be our friends the Huns that do the scavenging.... You remember them, Count Steven, the carrion crows on the trail...?"
Sidonia pulled her husband back that she might look out in her turn. The red glow of some distant conflagration was beginning to be faintly perceptible behind them in the pall of fog. She had heard the fiddler's explanation, and rejoiced in her young, unforgiving heart. Yet already Cassel and its terrors were fading from her mind. She sniffed the wet air as a doe might; and while the fiddler gazed down at her, an air of tender amusement driving the scorn from his face, she strained her ear as though to catch some secret sounds.
"Yes, child," said he, nodding at her; "yes, it is the woods you smell, the trees you hear. Yonder is the inn of The Three Ways, and presently we shall turn into the forest road."
Sidonia sank back beside Steven, a smile upon her lips. Then they both became aware that they could see each other in a strange glimmer that was scarcely yet light. Without, the mist was now white, torn ever and anon by swaying streaks of faint blue.
"It is the new day," said she under her breath.
"The day that is ours," said Steven. And as they kissed, the horses' hoofs struck upon the ascent and the great trees sprang up about them.
By sunset they reached the Forest House.
And when the Forest-Mother beheld them, she clapped her hands and laughed, and called on heaven and all the saints, and then kissed them all three—a freedom she never could recall afterwards without amazement—and, finally, she flung her blue embroidered apron over her head and wept aloud in gladness.
But nothing could hamper the preparation of the finest supper that ever the Forest House had seen; and about it there drew together such a happy company as even its happy walls had never held before.
By and by they sat round the great hearth. Some one asked Geiger-Hans for music. But he shook his head. And spells of silence ever more frequent and prolonged began to fall between the talking and laughing; the great peace of the forest was drawing about the lovers and holding them close even as he had prophesied. As the light of the fire played upon the musician's face it showed a great serenity. It was a blessed evening.
"You will always live with us, dear Geiger-Hans," said Sidonia over and over again. And each time he made no answer, but smiled as if content.
*Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *
Now, in the wonderful dawn of the forest, Steven awoke; and though his heart was as a bird's in spring for happiness, yet was there a sense of trouble, of anxiety, upon him which had seemed woven into his dreams.
They had left their window open to the moonlight, and it had flooded in upon them, but the dawn mystery without held aloof, veiled from sight like an Eastern bride. Thin grey vapours hung as a curtain before the open casement. Steven sat up, his pulses beating fast. He strained his ear; heard flutter of leaves, drip of dew, chirp of awakening birds ... then a faint strain of music that seemed as if it passed through a dream. The melody grew more distinct, though still subdued; it rose, softly plaintive; it was joyous and yet sad, secret and yet an appeal. And through it all there was a rhythm as of restless feet:—it was a melody of love, of farewell, of wandering. Fainter it grew, and was lost once more in the whispers of the woods. At last it was silent, yet still it seemed to sing.
A sudden pain gripped Steven's heart. He knew that Geiger-Hans had gone out of their lives for ever.
[image]The End
[image]
[image]
The End
The End
*Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *Â Â Â Â Â Â *
THE PRIDE OF JENNICO
Being a Memoir of Captain Basil Jennico
By AGNES and EGERTON CASTLE
YOUNG APRIL
By EGERTON CASTLE
Author of "The Pride of Jennico"
Illustrated by A. B. Wenzell
HEART'S DESIRE
THE STORY OF A CONTENTED TOWN, CERTAIN PECULIARCITIZENS, AND TWO FORTUNATE LOVERS
By EMERSON HOUGH
Author of "The Mississippi Bubble," etc., etc.
With Illustrations by F. B. Masters
YOLANDA
MAID OF BURGUNDY
By CHARLES MAJOR
Author of "Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall,""When Knighthood was in Flower," etc.
Illustrated by Charlotte Weber Ditzler
LADY BALTIMORE
By OWEN WISTER
Author of "The Virginian," etc., etc.
With Numerous Illustrations
FAIR MARGARET
A PORTRAIT
By F. MARION CRAWFORD
Author of "Saracinesca," "Whosoever Shall Offend,""In the Palace of the King," etc., etc.
With six full-page Illustrations by Horace T. Carpenter
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64-66 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK
By Agnes & Egerton Castle
ROSE OF THE WORLDFRENCH NANTHE STAR DREAMERTHE PRIDE OF JENNICOTHE SECRET ORCHARDTHE BATH COMEDYINCOMPARABLE BELLAIRSTHE HOUSE OF ROMANCE
By Egerton Castle
YOUNG APRILTHE LIGHT OF SCARTHEYCONSEQUENCESMARSH FIELD the OBSERVERLA BELLA AND OTHERS
SCHOOLS AND MASTERS OF FENCEENGLISH BOOK-PLATESTHE JERNINGHAM LETTERSLE ROMAN DU PRINCE OTHON
*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOKIF YOUTH BUT KNEW!***