"Karl Hoffman, at your service, mademoiselle."
"The courier--oh, yes! I forgot all about it. Please take these
things."
Amy began to hand him her miscellaneous collection of bags, books,
shawls and cushions.
"I'd no idea couriers were such decent creatures," whispered Amy, as
they followed him along the hall.
"Don't you remember the raptures Mrs. Mortimer used to have over their
Italian courier, and her funny description of him? 'Beautiful to
behold, with a night of hair, eyes full of an infinite tenderness, and
a sumptuous cheek.'"
Both girls laughed, and Amy averred that Karl's eyes danced with
merriment as he glanced over his shoulder, as the silvery peal sounded
behind him.
"Hush! he understands English; we must be careful," said Helen, and
neither spoke again till they reached the carriage.
Everything was ready, and as they drove away, the major, leaning
luxuriously back, exclaimed,--
"Now I begin to enjoy travelling, for I'm no longer worried by
the thought of luggage, time-tables, trains, and the everlasting
perplexity of thalers, kreutzers, and pfenniges. This man is a
treasure; everything is done in the best manner, and his knowledge of
matters is really amazing."
"He's a very gentlemanly-looking person," said Amy, eying a decidedly
aristocratic foot through the front window of the carriage, for Karl
sat up beside the driver.
"He _is_ a gentleman, my dear. Many of these couriers are well born
and educated, but, being poor, prefer this business to any other, as
it gives them variety, and often pleasant society. I've had a long
talk with Hoffman, and find him an excellent and accomplished fellow.
He has lost his fortune, it seems, through no fault of his own, so
being fond of a roving life, turned courier for a time, and we are
fortunate to have secured him."
"But one doesn't know how to treat him," said Helen. "I don't like
to address him as a servant, and yet it's not pleasant to order a
gentleman about."
"Oh, it will be easy enough as we go on together. Just call him
Hoffman, and behave as if you knew nothing about his past. He begged
me not to mention it, but I thought you'd like the romance of the
thing. Only don't either of you run away with him, as Ponsonby's
daughter did with her courier, who wasn't a gentleman, by the way."
"Not handsome enough," said Amy. "I don't like blue eyes and black
hair. His manners are nice, but he looks like a gipsy, with his brown
face and black beard: doesn't he, Nell?"
"Not at all. Gipsies haven't that style of face; they are thin, sharp,
and cunning in feature as in nature. Hoffman has large, well-moulded
features, and a mild, manly expression, which gives one confidence in
him."
"He has a keen, wicked look in his blue eyes, as you will see, Nell.
I mean mischievously, not malignantly wicked. He likes fun, I'm sure,
for he laughed about the 'sumptuous cheek' till his own were red,
though he dared not show it, and was as grave as an owl when we met
uncle," said Amy, smiling at the recollection.
"We shall go by boat to Biebrich, and then by rail to Heidelberg. We
shall get in late to-morrow night, but can rest a day, and then on to
Baden. Here we are; now make yourselves easy, as I do, and let Karl
take care of everything."
And putting his hands in his pockets, the major strolled about the
boat, while the courier made matters comfortable for the day. So
easily and well did he do his duty, that both girls enjoyed watching
him after he had established them on the shady side of the boat, with
camp-stools for their feet, cushions to lean on, books and bags laid
commodiously at hand.
As they sailed up the lovely Rhine they grew more and more
enthusiastic in their admiration and curiosity, and finding the meagre
description of the guide-books very unsatisfactory, Amy begged her
uncle to tell her all the legends of picturesque ruin, rock and river,
as they passed.
"Bless me, child, I know nothing; but here's Hoffman, a German born,
who will tell you everything, I dare say. Karl, what's that old castle
up there? The young ladies want to know about it."
Leaning on the railing, Hoffman told the story so well that he was
kept explaining and describing for an hour, and when he went away to
order lunch, Amy declared it was as pleasant as reading fairy tales to
listen to his dramatic histories and legends.
At lunch the major was charmed to find his favorite wines and dishes
without any need of consulting dictionary or phrase-book beforehand,
or losing his temper in vain attempts to make himself understood.
On reaching Biebrich, tired and hungry, at nightfall, everything was
ready for them, and all went to bed praising Karl, the courier, though
Amy, with unusual prudence, added,--
"He is a new broom now; let us wait a little before we judge."
All went well next day till nightfall, when a most untoward accident
occurred, and Helen's adventures began in earnest. The three occupied
a _coupé_, and being weary with long sitting, Helen got out at one of
the stations where the train paused for ten minutes. A rosy sunset
tempted her to the end of the platform, and there she found, what
nearly all foreign railway stations possess, a charming little garden.
Amy was very tired, rather cross, and passionately fond of flowers, so
when an old woman offered to pull a nosegay for "the gracious lady,"
Helen gladly waited for it, hoping to please the invalid. Twice the
whistle warned her, and at last she ran back, but only in time to see
the train move away, with her uncle gesticulating wildly to the guard,
who shook his stupid German head, and refused to see the dismayed
young lady imploring him to wait for her.
Just as the train was vanishing from the station, a man leaped from
a second-class carriage at the risk of his neck, and hurried back to
find Helen looking pale and bewildered, as well she might, left alone
and moneyless at night in a strange town.
"Mademoiselle, it is I; rest easy; we can soon go on; a train passes
in two hours, and we can telegraph to Heidelberg that they may not
fear for you."
"Oh, Hoffman, how kind of you to stop for me! What should I have done
without you, for uncle takes care of all the money, and I have only my
watch."
Helen's usual self-possession rather failed her in the flurry of the
moment, and she caught Karl's arm with a feminine little gesture of
confidence very pleasant to see. Leading her to the waiting-room, he
ordered supper, and put her into the care of the woman of the place,
while he went to make inquiries and dispatch the telegram. In half an
hour he returned, finding Helen refreshed and cheerful, though a trace
of anxiety was still visible in her watchful eyes.
"All goes excellently, mademoiselle. I have sent word to several posts
along the road that we are coming by the night train, so that Monsieur
le Major will rest tranquil till we meet. It is best that I give you
some money, lest such a mishap should again occur; it is not likely so
soon; nevertheless, here is both gold and silver. With this, one can
make one's way everywhere. Now, if mademoiselle will permit me to
advise, she will rest for an hour, as we must travel till dawn. I will
keep guard without and watch for the train."
He left her, and having made herself comfortable on one of the sofas,
she lay watching the tall shadow pass and repass door and window, as
Karl marched up and down the platform, with the tireless tramp of a
sentinel on duty. A pleasant sense of security stole over her, and
with a smile at Amy's enjoyment of the adventure when it was over,
Helen fell asleep.
A far-off shriek half woke her, and starting up, she turned to meet
the courier coming in to wake her. Up thundered the train, every
carriage apparently full of sleepy passengers, and the guard in a
state of sullen wrath at some delay, the consequences of which would
fall heaviest on him.
From carriage to carriage hurried Karl and his charge, to be met with
everywhere by the cry, "All full," in many languages, and with every
aspect of inhospitality. One carriage only showed two places; the
other seats were occupied by six students, who gallantly invited the
lady to enter. But Helen shrunk back, saying,--
"Is there no other place?"
"None, mademoiselle; this, or remain till morning," said Karl.
"Where will you go if I take this place?"
"Among the luggage,--anywhere; it is nothing. But we must decide at
once."
"Come with me; I'm afraid to be locked in here alone," said Helen,
desperately.
"Mademoiselle forgets I am her courier."
"I do not forget that you are a gentleman. Pray come in; my uncle will
thank you."
"I will," and with a sudden brightening of the eyes, a grateful
glance, and an air of redoubled respect, Hoffman followed her into the
carriage.
They were off at once, and the thing was done before Helen had time
to feel anything but the relief which the protection of his presence
afforded her.
The young gentlemen stared at the veiled lady and her grim escort,
joked under their breath, and looked wistfully at the suppressed
cigars, but behaved with exemplary politeness till sleep overpowered
them, and one after the other dropped off asleep to dream of their
respective Gretchens.
Helen could not sleep, and for hours sat studying the unconscious
faces before her, the dim landscape flying past the windows, or forgot
herself in reveries.
Hoffman remained motionless and silent, except when she addressed
him, wakeful also, and assiduous in making the long night as easy as
possible.
It was past midnight, and Helen's heavy eyelids were beginning to
droop, when suddenly there came an awful crash, a pang of mortal fear,
then utter oblivion.
As her senses returned she found herself lying in a painful position
under what had been the roof of the car; something heavy weighed
down her lower limbs, and her dizzy brain rung with a wild uproar of
shrieks and groans, eager voices, the crash of wood and iron, and the
shrill whistle of the engine, as it rushed away for help.
Through the darkness she heard the pant as of some one struggling
desperately, then a cry close by her, followed by a strong voice
exclaiming, in an agony of suspense,--
"My God, will no one come!"
"Hoffman, are you there?" cried Helen, groping in the gloom, with a
thrill of joy at the sound of a familiar voice.
"Thank heaven, you are safe. Lie still. I will save you. Help is
coming. Have no fear!" panted the voice, with an undertone of fervent
gratitude in its breathless accents.
"What has happened? Where are the rest?"
"We have been thrown down an embankment. The lads are gone for help.
God only knows what harm is done."