'The royal taxes were raised, the constantly recurring lawsuits of the
Finns and Laplanders about pasturage, the chase and the fishery, were
settled in some way, by power and with mildness, the sun was
approaching the horizon, and the hum of the crowd in the market place
grew fainter and fainter.
'My business is finished,' said the governor to Arwed, 'and it will
soon be time to view the spectacle for which you have given yourself
the trouble to come here. Seek Christine. We shall set out
immediately.'
Arwed searched the house, garden, and the whole of the little town,
without being able to find her. As he was returning in the ill humor
naturally consequent upon his want of success, he was met by the
sheriff's little daughter.
'Perhaps you can tell me, my child,' he asked, 'where I can find the
governor's daughter?'
The little thing gave him an arch look and placed her finger on her
nose. 'That indeed can I,' answered she; 'but I know not whether I may
venture to do so.'
'I will answer for it that you may,' Arwed jestingly assured her. 'I am
a messenger from her father--'
'And possibly for that reason I may not. Fathers must not be allowed to
know every thing. The countess told me that, should a handsome slender
man in a green hunting dress ask for her, I might direct him where she
was. Now you are indeed handsome and slender, but the green dress is
wanting.'
'Who knows if she will be able to see the green coat to-day,' answered
Arwed significantly. 'Lead me to her. Perhaps she will be willing to
receive, for once, a blue coat instead of the green.'
'Well, at your own risk!' cried the child, leading him by some deserted
passages through the house and garden into the open fields, where the
waters of a meandering stream glistened among the trees in the evening
sun.
'She is there behind that thicket of alder bushes upon the border of
the stream!' whispered the child. 'Good success to you, sir officer!'
and she ran back to the house.
'Even at the north pole,' said Arwed, proceeding forward, 'the sex
indulge in amorous intrigues, and promote those of others when they
have none of their own.' He came to the bushes, and was not a little
astonished when, instead of Christine, he beheld a Finnish peasant
girl, who sat angling on the bank with her back towards him. But the
disguise was soon betrayed by the beauteous golden locks of the girl,
and the deep reverie into which she had fallen,--and he silently
approached through the bushes, that he might surprise his fair cousin.
The latter discovered by the slight movements of the foliage that some
one was approaching; but, pretending not to have remarked it, she sang
in her sweetest tones a Finnish song, in keeping with her assumed
character. The words were as follows:
Oh! if the dear and only loved
Might by some magic art appear,
Though on his mouth the wolfs blood hung,
My lips should kiss its beauty clear!
Though round his hand a serpent's coil
Envious, had twined its venom'd ring,
Would not all-powerful love defy
The danger of the reptile's sting!
Why lacks the wind a fervent soul
Like that which glows within my breast?
Why lives not language in its sigh?
Then could it speed my fond request!
Then, truant, then the whisp'ring breeze
Thy thoughts might interchange with mine;
And, faithful carrier, swiftly bear
The throbbings of this heart to thine!
'Poor maiden!' sighed Arwed with fearful misgivings. 'God grant that
the man thy heart has chosen, drip only with the blood of the wolf,
that the serpents of hell be not coiled around the hand which thou
wouldst press so tenderly in thine!'
Meanwhile Christine, having ended her song, listened a moment, and then
turning towards the thicket, exclaimed, 'tease me no longer, Mac
Donalbain, it is you--I hear your breathing.'
'The lover hears acutely, but not always rightly,' said Arwed
advancing. 'It is only the breathing of your insignificant kinsman.'
'My God, what have I done!' shrieked the terrified Christine, covering
her face with her hands.
'Lost the secret,' answered Arwed 'that you once promised to confide to
me. I am indebted to accident for what I now know, and not to your
confidence.'
'Can that be any excuse for your betraying me?' asked Christine,
grasping his hand and searching deeply into his soul with her beautiful
blue eyes.
'Do I look like a betrayer?' asked Arwed, indignantly withdrawing his
hand. 'The knowledge of what I only conjectured till now, at least
authorises me to exercise the fraternal right which you have conceded
to me, and earnestly to warn you against this Scot, who, by the mildest
judgment, is only an adventurer. Even if the garb in which you have
to-day so strangely clothed yourself did actually belong to you, you
could not hope to derive any especial honor from such a connection; the
countess Gyllenstierna degrades her rank and reputation when she throws
herself away upon a suspected vagabond.'
'Then cast I from me both rank and reputation,' cried the maiden, with
the defiance of desperation, 'and retain the garb which brings me
nearer to him, and in which I am allowed to love him.'
'Has it gone so far with you, cousin? Then indeed must this masquerade
have some secret object, and you were at least willing to try, how it
would become you against the time when it may be adopted for life.
There is too much meaning in this, and I should but discharge the duty
of a guest and kinsman by informing your father of the affair.'
Christine gave the youth a piercing glance, and sprung upon a rock
which jutted out far over the stream. 'Give me your word of honor,
Arwed,' cried she from her place of refuge, 'that you will remain
silent to every one upon this matter, or I will instantly throw myself
into the stream.'
'What madness!' cried Arwed, advancing to take her from her dangerous
situation.
'Back!' screamed she wildly. 'The first step you take toward me shall
plunge me in a cold and watery grave. By my mother's ashes, I will keep
my word! In any event life has henceforth no joy for me.'
'Well, come down!' cried Arwed, angrily; 'by my honor I will be
silent.'
'Thanks, thanks!' said Christine descending; 'you are a Gyllenstierna
and will keep your word. And now, nothing more upon this unpleasant
subject. Let us return to our companions. My disguise is a jest I
played off upon you. Do you understand me, Arwed?'
'Perfectly!' answered the latter; and, troubled by the cloud hanging
over the maiden's fate, as well as vexed that he had taken upon himself
the thankless office of confidant, he gave his arm to the beauteous
Finlander, and they proceeded back to the house in moody silence.