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[Illustration: ESGAIR.
_Frontispiece._]
BARON BRUNO;
OR,
THE UNBELIEVING PHILOSOPHER,
And other Fairy Stories.
BY
LOUISA MORGAN.
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY R. CALDECOTT._
London:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1875.
CONTENTS.
PAGE
BARON BRUNO AND THE STARS; OR, THE UNBELIEVING
PHILOSOPHER 3
ESGAIR: THE BRIDE OF LLYN IDWYL 49
EOTHWALD: THE YOUNG SCULPTOR 91
FIDO AND FIDUNIA 115
EUDAEMON; OR, THE ENCHANTER OF THE NORTH 199
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
ESGAIR _Frontispiece._
VIGNETTE _Title._
"THE DREAMER STARTED FROM HIS CHAIR" 8
BARON BRUNO AND ALCYONE 22
EOTHWALD AND DUVA IN THE CAVE 102
FIDO AND FIDUNIA 123
FIDO AND FIDUNIA 170
EUDAEMON 199
BARON BRUNO AND THE STARS;
OR,
The Unbelieving Philosopher.
Baron Bruno was the Prime Minister of the Hereditary Grand Duke of
Rumpel Stiltzein. Besides being Prime Minister, he was the cleverest
man in the kingdom. This is saying a good deal, for were there not
(besides all the men of science, the physicians, the literati, and the
great philosophers of the day) the General-in-Chief of the Grand-Ducal
army, Prince Edlerkopf; the great High Almoner, Herr von Pfenig; and
also the accomplished Graf von Wild Kranz, the most able lawyer and the
politest man about court? So humble and gentle, indeed, were his
manners, that strangers sometimes took it upon themselves to dispute
the opinion of their modest neighbour. But such hardy persons seldom
repeated the experiment after Wild Kranz had completely overturned
their arguments in his quiet, hesitating tone, with a shrewd glance of
enjoyment twinkling in his small wary eye; and woe to the man who a
second time opposed his will or challenged his decision.
Very different was Baron Bruno. Impetuous, fiery, and caustic, gifted
with inexhaustible memory, and brimming over with barbed sarcasm, he
was often misunderstood and disliked in the outer world, but invariably
beloved by those who knew him intimately.
Pfenig and Edlerkopf were devoted friends, as well as ministers at
court. They had been educated together, and while Edlerkopf lent to the
counsels of state the aid of wise and deliberate judgment and the
weight of his nobly impartial character, Pfenig was the most wonderful
manager of the public purse, and could not only calculate the incoming
revenue within a hairsbreadth, but could also regulate government
expenditure so exactly as to keep all departments amply supplied, and
yet preserve a due regard to economy.
You may well imagine that with four ministers such as these the Grand
Duke had little difficulty in maintaining peace and contentment in his
beautiful kingdom of Rumpel Stiltzein; and that from every side
artisans, labourers, and mechanics flocked to the small domain, within
whose narrow boundaries prosperity sat enthroned. To add to his
happiness, the Grand Duchess became the proud mother of twin children,
the spirited handsome Prince Bertrand and the lovely gentle Princess
Berta. They were now in their tenth year, and seemed only born to give
pleasure and hope to their parents and to the whole principality.
Edlerkopf, Wild Kranz and Pfenig were all married, but Bruno had a
solitary home; and no one without ocular demonstration would have
believed in what a shabby den this great statesman passed much of his
time. In his town-house he had magnificent saloons, where all that was
fair and choice delighted his guests; but near the roof of this
dwelling, and far above the haunts of men, there, like the eagle, Bruno
had his eyrie, where, with ill-concealed impatience, he would hardly
even permit the cleaning incursions of his maids, and few and far
between were the footsteps that trod those time-worn boards. Here the
Baron sat surrounded by dusty piles of books, now poring intently over
the records of the past, now eagerly scanning the papers of the day,
now striding up and down the narrow chamber, composing his speech for
the Reichstag, or dashing off answers to his numerous correspondents.
There also at the threshold would pause the faithful messengers who
bore from minister to minister the secret boxes of state papers, and
waited to obtain from each his signature before proceeding on their
rounds.
A few steps and a small door led from the sanctuary which I have
described to the roof. Here Bruno had a little observatory on one side
fitted up with a revolving cupola; so that when he sat in the centre of
this round miniature house he could turn his telescope, without himself
moving, upon any part of the heavens, and seek with keen unfaltering
eye the verification of calculations he had made, or diligently mark
the alteration and movement among the visible planets. But the rest of
the roof was a free uncovered space, upon which a comfortable chair and
rug, generally kept within the observatory, to be safe from the wear
and tear of the elements, were often placed. From this lonely elevated
seat the Baron would then study the myriads of stars with his own
unaided and unerring vision, until they became to him dear and
well-known companions.
During such silent hours of the night, when all around teemed with
nature's glorious presence, Bruno indulged in long soliloquies.
Sometimes he pondered curiously over the strange difference between
himself and his colleagues. He well knew that, when weary with the
lengthened debates and vitiated air of the Reichstag (which often
extended its sittings till long after midnight), Pfenig and Edlerkopf
hastened home to their faithful wives, and derived from their society a
pleasure little short of bliss; and found endless interest in watching
and fostering the mental and physical growth of their children; while
Wild Kranz, though often delayed in his law chambers till near
daybreak, (the keenest and hardest lawyer of his day,) considered no
happiness like the sacred domestic felicity he also experienced when
surrounded by his family. When these and other similar reflections
weighed on Bruno's mind, he would lift his piercing eyes heavenward,
and, shrugging his shoulders, murmur, half aloud: "O, ye stars! ye are
wife and children to me. As I gaze alone on you by night, I feel a
secret satisfaction surpassing the keenest emotions experienced by
these weak dreamers in their so-called felicity. O, immortal heavens!
enfold me in your vast space, and teach a finite mortal to comprehend
in faint measure your infinite beauty and eternal unswerving laws."
Bruno's fervid nature suffered no chill from such midnight exposure;
his iron frame was proof against fatigue; his restless intellect but
seldom needed or courted repose.
It was a hot night in July, worried and jaded, after a wearisome debate
in the Reichstag, the Baron walked through the empty streets. The
latest revellers were already housed, a strange hush hung over the
noisy, populous city, and refreshing breezes blew on his burning brow,
as he at length reached his home, and ascended to his upper chamber.
With a sigh of contentment he stepped on the roof, and prepared to
enjoy his well-earned repose. Throwing himself into his easy-chair, and
drawing his soft rug across his feet, he became absorbed in the
contemplation of the firmament above.
As the night wore on, thoughts, till now strangers to him, took
possession of his mind. A new yearning for companionship awoke in his
world-wearied bosom. In vague, uneasy discontent with his solitary
condition, he turned restlessly from side to side, and at length
exclaimed aloud: "To you, distant stars! I nightly offer the homage of
a constant worshipper; would that you in return could give me to know
the spell of love, and teach me what it is that inspires the painter,
the poet, and the lover."
Hardly had the thought crossed his mind, or the half-uttered words
risen to his lips, when a meteor fell swiftly rushing from the stars on
which he gazed. He strove to follow it with his eye, but was dazzled by
the blinding flash of light. For a moment fire seemed to surround him.
When the bright glow became less intense, lo! upon the roof near at
hand, where that vivid ray had fallen, shone a shimmering shape. The
dreamer started from his chair. Bewildered and entranced, he deemed her
the creature of his imagination; and surely mortal eye had never beheld
a form so fair. In trailing garments of palest azure there stood the
perfect ideal of a poet's dream. From her hair gleamed a faint
effulgence, and her deep tender eyes sent a strange thrill to the
philosopher's heart.
[Illustration: THE DREAMER STARTED FROM HIS CHAIR.
P. 8.]
The burden of many years fell from Bruno; the ardour of youth rushed
through his veins; ambition, politics, calculations, all disappeared
like fallen leaves before the autumn wind; and in agitated tones he
besought his beautiful visitant to tell him whence she came.
"Son of earth!" replied the fair unknown, "thou hast watched and loved
our stars for long years. We in our turn have known thee, and have
guarded thee and thy fortunes in many a time of danger. Thou wouldest
know the spell of love. It is even now awakening within thy rugged
breast; but beware! Thou hast disbelieved in immortality, and doubted
the eternal power of our great Creator. We love thee! we yearn to save
thy soul! We long to soften thee through human affection; that when thy
poor earth is no more, thou mayst find an everlasting home, where
'Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain.'
I--Alcyone, sent by my sisters--I am here to speed thine upward way."
Bruno, spell-bound, eagerly listened. Deeply enamoured of the lovely
messenger, he succeeded in winning from the fair denizen of the stars
her consent to remain with him on one condition. She stipulated that
she should be permitted every month to spend the evening hours of this
self-same night entirely alone beneath the canopy of heaven, without
interruption or intrusion, for her life depended on the due observance
of this time of "retreat."
She also added, falteringly, that if her faith were once doubted she
must quit for ever the pleasant paths of human fellowship, and be
claimed again by her immortal sisters. The Baron gladly vowed to keep
what seemed to him such wondrously simple promises by which to gain so
peerless a bride. The time passed swiftly as these arrangements were
made, and ere long the first streaks of daylight appeared in the east.
Alcyone, faint and weary, was conducted to a chamber for rest and
repose; and the Baron aroused his servants and informed them that he
was about to be married.
In the country of Rumpel Stiltzein it was customary to celebrate
marriages in the evening; there were therefore still available a good
many hours for the requisite preparations.
The court of the Grand Duke was considerably agitated by the unexpected
news. Strange rumours were set afloat regarding the newly-elected
bride. The Prime Minister's answer to all inquiries was the same. He
let it be understood that the Lady Alcyone was an orphan relative
lately committed to his charge; that she had suddenly arrived from the
country the evening before, when he came to the conclusion that the
best way of taking care of her would be to marry her, and having gained
the lady's consent, all was well.
It is true that Bruno had a private interview with his Prince; but as
it was held with closed doors, the substance of their conversation is
unknown. The only thing certain is, that the Grand Duke himself
consented to give away the bride.
Edlerkopf, Pfenig and Wild Kranz, with their wives and families, and
all the chief members of the court promised to attend at the ceremony,
and great were the rejoicings that the solitary philosopher was about
to enjoy the sweet pleasures of home life. All rejoiced, because they
believed the change would be for the Baron's happiness; but there was
one dissentient mind. The Countess Olga von Dunkelherz, one of the
ladies-in-waiting on the Grand Duchess, was a spinster of a certain
age, and of undisputed ability; celebrated for her witty tongue and
smart sayings. She was not displeased when rumour coupled her name with
that of the Prime Minister, and when the courtiers rallied her about
the Baron's attentions. The truth was that Bruno had never for a moment
regarded her in the light of his future Baroness; her manners wanted
the repose and softness which to him constituted a woman's chief charm.
In spite of her masterly intellect, her conversation often bored him.
For in his moments of relaxation he turned to the fair and softer sex
for sympathy and recreation, not to involve his wearied brain in
arguments about the last geological discovery, or the newest theory of
electricity.
But as he remained single, and they were constantly together, the
Countess Olga had insensibly grown to regard him as her own property.
Imagine therefore her astonishment and her displeasure when the Grand
Duchess, summoning her ladies to her apartment, gave them instructions
to lay out her state robes, and prepare for a grand court ceremonial,
as Baron Bruno's wedding was to take place that very evening within the
palace.
All was bustle and confusion; but the labours of the court cook were
something superhuman. It required, indeed, the utmost efforts of genius
and industry combined to produce so splendid a feast at such short
notice. It is only due, however, to Francabelli's reputation as first
_chef_ of the Grand Duchy, if not of the world at large, to record
that the execution of his designs was on this occasion carried out with
peculiar success.
At last the nuptial hour approached, and excited curiosity was
gratified by the sight of the bride, as she was led slowly through the
palace by the Grand Duke. Her wondrous beauty amazed every one, as also
the radiant simplicity of her attire. She wore her robes of flowing
azure, and over her forehead there sparkled a gem of extraordinary
brilliancy, which seemed absolutely to blaze with light.
As Alcyone advanced towards the altar, Baron Bruno, clad in his
splendid court uniform, embroidered with gold, and covered with
decorations, stepped forth to meet her, and the wedding ceremony was
soon completed. The priest dipped his hand in the holy water and
sprinkled some over bride and groom during his final benediction; as he
did so, the Countess Olga, who stood near with her royal mistress,
rushed forward, exclaiming, "She is a witch! she is a witch! the holy
water has scared her!" All eyes turned instantly on Alcyone, who
shuddered visibly, and would have fallen to the ground where she knelt
had not her husband's strong arm encircled and held her up. A mortal
pallor overspread her fair countenance, and, strange to relate, the
glittering gem on her forehead became opaque, and was clouded over with
a dim moisture. By the aid of strong perfumes she gradually revived,
but was thoroughly shaken and overcome. Baron Bruno, therefore, craving
the indulgence of the Grand Duke, begged permission to retire at once
with his bride, and entreated that their absence should not be allowed
to cast a shadow over the rejoicings at court.
Now Bombastes, the Grand Duke, though of a choleric temperament, was
still at heart a man of just and keen perception. He perceived that the
newly-made baroness was indisputably overfatigued, and that it was only
natural her bridegroom should wish to take every care of her. He
instantly, therefore, granted his Prime Minister's request, and calling
the other great officers of state around him, invoked their aid to
carry on the court revels with due spirit and merriment; at the same
time adding, in an undertone, that he trusted his faithful servant had
not undone himself by marrying an unknown beauty without parents,
relations, or antecedents!
The three ministers, Edlerkopf, Pfenig, and Wild Kranz, with their
wives and children, joined heart and soul in the gaieties of the
evening. The children, with their friends Prince Bertrand and Princess
Berta, were, as a great treat, allowed to sit up to supper, and had a
small side-table to themselves. Here old Donnerfuss, the head butler,
kept them well supplied with all they demanded, and they behaved with
decorum for a considerable time. At length, wearied with the protracted
courses, and finding it impossible to eat any more, the thoughtless
boys amused themselves by sticking burrs on the footmen's silken calves
as they passed to and fro. These naughty children had purposely
provided themselves with a quantity of these instruments of torture, in
hopes of finding some use for them during the dull state supper. For
some time they pursued their fun unnoticed during the general bustle,
and quite undisturbed by the muttered maledictions of their victims. At
last Bombastes, having an observant eye, became aware of some
interruption in the serving of the dinner. Looking round the hall, he
noticed on every side agitated footmen carefully examining their lower
extremities. In a voice of thunder he demanded of the Lord Chamberlain
an explanation of such unprecedented behaviour. The Lord Chamberlain
called up the High Steward of the Household, who, in his turn, required
Donnerfuss to explain this breach of discipline. Thereupon the fifty
red-faced footmen, seeing all eyes turned upon them, at once resumed
their duties, regardless of pricking sensations about the leg and
unseemly excrescences upon the otherwise fair white proportions of
their well-filled stockings. Donnerfuss, in a frightened whisper,
revealed the truth to the High Steward, and he, in his turn, narrated
the mischievous exploit of the boys to the Lord High Chamberlain.
Bombastes now impatiently beckoned the latter to his Grand-ducal chair,
and insisted upon hearing the whole root of the matter. Sanftschriften,
who was himself a parent, and naturally kind-hearted, tried to soften
down the affair; but as Bombastes listened, his large, round, prominent
eyes seemed as if they would absolutely start from his head at the
recital of this outrage on decorum. He sternly commanded the culprits
to retire to bed; and, glancing wrathfully at Edlerkopf, Pfenig, and
Wild Kranz (who sat quaking in their shoes), he added further: "As to
the well-brought-up sons of these great noblemen, their domestic life
is beyond the control of their poor sovereign; but for the next month I
give orders that no dessert of any kind shall pass the lips of Prince
Bertrand, who has thus misbehaved himself in so shameful and public a
manner." Princess Berta and the other little girls, distressed at the
disgrace of their playmates, rose also at once from the table, and
accompanied them from the hall. Thus it came to pass that the court
children had no very pleasant associations with the day of Baron
Bruno's wedding. Indeed, you may be very certain that the three
ministers gave their sons the same punishment as Prince Bertrand; and
therefore for a whole month the boys had good reason to remember the
marriage feast, as their tutors, governesses, and nurses, were strictly
enjoined to carry out the Grand Duke's peremptory edict. Princess Berta
and the other small girls, tender and soft-hearted as little maidens
ever should be, did their best to alleviate the punishment of their
playmates by voluntarily depriving themselves of all sweet things for
the same period, which, I am sure you will agree with me, required much
self-denial, on the part of those dessert-loving damsels, and was no
small proof of affection.
In the meantime Bruno had taken his bride to a small cottage he owned
on the borders of a wide and gloomy forest. Here they passed the few
days which, by the indulgence of his royal master, Bruno was enabled to
spare from the affairs of state. When they were alone together, his
wife expressed to him her conviction that some ill-disposed person had
tampered with the holy water, so as to affect that which was sprinkled
over them. She had also felt during the ceremony the near presence of
an anti-pathetic and malign influence. Alcyone furthermore explained to
her husband that the gem on her forehead was a talisman, which paled
and grew dim on the approach of danger, or when exposed to poison. The
Baron at once remembered the dull appearance presented by the jewel
when the holy water fell near it, but he also became unreasonably vexed
when his bride refused to loosen it, even for one moment, from her
hair, to permit him to examine it in his hand.
He gradually grew to regard its brilliance with a certain amount of
suspicion, and more than once, when the gentle Alcyone laid her head
upon his shoulder, he felt as if a fiery eye shone guardian over her
and watched unsleepingly his every movement. When in his vexation Bruno
allowed himself to speak harshly for the first time to his young wife,
Alcyone tearfully deprecated his displeasure. She assured him her life
was bound up in her talisman, and that if she parted with it, for ever
so brief a space, she must at once return to the regions whence she
came. After this explanation Bruno rarely referred to the disputed
point, but it is not too much to say that the lurid ray of the strange
gem often in their happiest moments sent a sudden thrill to his heart's
core, and gave a feeling of insecurity to his most private hours of
retirement.
"It is the little rift within the lute
That by and by will make the music mute,
And, ever widening, slowly silence all.
"The little rift within the lover's lute,
Or little pitted speck in garnered fruit,
That rotting inwards slowly moulders all."
I have already hinted that Bruno was of a sceptical turn of mind.
Possessed of rare intellectual powers, he had studied metaphysics to
such an extent, and become so thoroughly master of the strange theories
propounded by the deep-thinking German philosophers of the day, that he
could not bend himself to the simplicity of that religion which only
demands the faith of a little child; he disbelieved the immortality of
the soul, and professed to doubt the existence of a future state.
But though he and his bride widely differed in faith, yet day by day
she became more and more endeared to him, by the lovely nature of her
mind no less than by the graces of her person. Her exceeding humility
and true-hearted simplicity showed to him in a new light those
religious duties at which in less peaceful days he was wont to cavil.
Well would it have been for both could their lives have been thus spent
far from the busy world, in the calm retreat, where for the first time
the gray-haired man recalled soft prayers which a mother's lips (long
since silent and cold) had murmured over his infant head.
But the calls of duty had to be obeyed, and ere long the prime minister
and his bride returned to Aronsberg, to take their place at court and
in society, and to have endless fetes and receptions given in their
honour. Here Alcyone's gentle unassuming manners, added to her great
beauty, made her a universal favourite. The malicious Graefin von
Dunkelherz, however, disseminated strange stories concerning the new
Baroness, and aroused the suspicions of those who were already perhaps
somewhat jealous of the many charms united in the fair person of the
young stranger.
Amid the series of festivities given in honour of the newly-married
couple, it was observed that whenever a storm of thunder and lightning
broke over the neighbourhood Alcyone was painfully agitated. Wherever
she and her husband might be, she implored him to convey her home as
soon as possible; the electric influence so entirely overcame her that
more than once she seemed completely gone--so utterly did she lose
colour and consciousness--so deadly pale did she become. To Bruno's
impetuous nature this unfortunate tendency proved a serious annoyance.
He considered that by a little firm exercise of moral courage his wife
could have retained her senses. Often after conveying her home and
reappearing alone (by her earnest request) at some state banquet, he
would be universally rallied about her captiousness, and even made to
see (owing to Olga's kind offices) that his friends considered the
whole affair in a somewhat mysterious light. It will be remembered that
Alcyone stipulated for one night of retirement every month, when,
undisturbed and alone, she spent long solitary hours upon the roof. She
entreated Bruno, by all his affection for her, neither to approach the
place himself nor to suffer any one else to intrude upon her privacy.
Somehow or other this circumstance, with numerous additions, became
bruited abroad, and it was whispered that the Baron's wife was in
regular communication with demons. Bribed and listening servants heard
voices of no earthly _timbre_, speaking in an unknown language. More
they were unable to say, for Bruno as yet kept faithful guard over his
wife's hours of mystic retreat.
At last, however, the time approached when the sittings of the
Reichstag terminated, and when all who could forsook the dusty purlieus
of the town for the mountains, the sea, or their country dwellings.
People began to be too busy making their own plans to attend to those
of their neighbours, and Bruno retired once more with his Baroness to
Tieftraeume Forest. There in their small cottage, with its low long
veranda covered with creepers, they spent weeks--nay, months--of
uninterrupted happiness. On one side of their home patches of wild
moorland were beautifully interspersed with cultivated oases of garden.
Towards the east rose the dark masses of the pine forest, giving with
their sombre colouring an ever-fresh beauty to the foreground of lovely
flowering shrubs. Passing through tangled masses of bramble and fern,
the path led by bare gray rocks and tufts of purple heather to some
ivy-covered bower; or you came upon some exquisite smooth-shaven little
lawn, jewelled in bright patterns of many coloured flowers, and adding
brilliance and perfume to the scene.
Here Alcyone and her husband wandered together, or, perhaps descending
the steps at the end of their garden, stood on the brink of the little
river Naecken, which tumbled and hurried through its narrow rocky
channel, thus dividing them from the forest. Lower down the streamlet
formed a small lake, on which a boat was kept, and where Bruno was wont
to row his wife, and try to teach her unskilful hand to guide the oar.
He laid these lines beside her one morning towards the end of their
country sojourn when, fresh and fair as Aurora herself, she took her
place at their morning meal:--
[Illustration: BARON BRUNO AND ALCYONE.
P. 22.]
"One moment let me live the time again,
The sweet, sweet time when o'er the silvery loch
The frail bark sped, or hand-in-hand we climbed
Together, where the divided mountain path
Stopped like a thing perplexed, or haply stood
To watch yon dark blue vault where white clouds sailed
Onward and onward through the homeless sky;
Or when, returning from a mid-day ride,
We turned to gaze where far-off heathery vales
Gleamed between shadowy hills, and dark woods rained
Transparent sunshine through their golden leaves.
And sweet it was to rob the miser night,
Of her rich hours, as side by side we sat,
Seeking to chain the time that fled too fast,
By mazy labyrinths of sweet discourse;
These things can never die--there is no death
Of happy feelings, gentlest sympathies,
And that delicious sadness, whose deep tints
Fall like soft shadows o'er the sunny past.
Therefore in years to come a calm, clear voice,
Like a stray note of some forgotten tune,
Shall rise from out these happy autumn days,
Waking a melody of gentler thoughts
Through all the silent chambers of my heart."
The Baron was often obliged to return to town for a day on important
business, or to attend his royal master at the Prince's Chateau; but
Alcyone never wearied when alone with nature; and these little
separations lent a new delight to the hour of reunion. Jaded and tired
from his hot journey, Bruno would then seat himself in the veranda and
recount to his fondly-listening wife all the little adventures of the
day, while her cool, soft hand laid on his burning brow, or her gentle
voice, carolling forth low songs in the silent twilight, soothed and
refreshed his hard-worked brain. It was at times like these, when
husband and wife were drawn very near, that Alcyone spoke of her faith,
and allowed him to see and know the firm unfaltering trust that
possessed her simple mind. She sometimes referred to the possibility of
their separation--to her hope of ultimate reunion. When, however, she
had but half uttered such words, Bruno, enfolding her in his arms, with
a quivering voice would beseech her to be silent, and not break his
heart.
Autumn disappeared, and next came winter with all its delightful
accompaniments of snow and sleighing. Merrily tinkled the bells and
fast flew the steeds under Bruno's skilful guidance, as their
gaily-decorated sledge was whirled through the broad thoroughfares and
snowy parks of Aronsberg. Christmas also passed by, and Santa Klaus
sent joy to the hearts of myriads of children with his mysterious
gifts. Months again rolled away, and the glad Easter Feast was in full
celebration when, with the first sweet violets, came a dear little
child to bless and brighten the home of Alcyone and her husband. They
called her Violet because she bloomed into life at the same time as
those fragrant flowers, and Stella was added in remembrance of the
sacred mystery known only to her parents. In the fulness of his joy,
Bruno dismissed, as he thought for ever, from his mind the cruel
unworthy thoughts he had once been led to entertain of his bride. It
would be difficult to describe this infant to those who never saw her;
but let each one think of all the children he has been privileged to
know. If among such dear ones he can recall some babe of a beauty too
rare and fair to attain to maturity in this bleak world, then he may in
some faint degree picture to himself the nameless charm that surrounded
the little Violet as with a halo.
Various changes now for a time partially relieved the Baron from
official duties; wrapped up in his domestic happiness, nearly a year
passed swiftly by before he was once more drawn into the unceasing
whirl of political and social court life.
It was already June, the busiest season in the Aronsberg world. Plunged
in the necessary rounds of visiting and receiving, the Baroness had but
little time to enjoy, as she wished, the society either of her husband
or of the little Violet, now at a most engaging age. It is true that it
was totally against her own wish that Alcyone took so active a part in
the gay world. Bruno, whom nature had formed to shine in society, and
gifted with marvellous conversational powers, chafed under her
continual excuses, and, returning with eager zest to his old life,
insisted upon the Baroness assuming that prominent place in society
which was hers by right as the wife of the Prime Minister.
It was about this time that the artful Countess Olga began once more to
drop poisoned words about the court concerning Alcyone. Ever on the
alert to open the Baron's eyes to the folly of what she called his
strange infatuation, she eagerly hailed the first signs of coolness
between him and his wife. In an unguarded moment Bruno let fall some
hasty expression regarding her absence from a court ball, and Olga,
with honeyed words, sympathizing in his disappointment, hinted that
rumour credited the Baroness with some private amusement at home, she
so rarely vouch-safed to favour the court with her presence for more
than the briefest possible attendance at the levees of the Grand
Duchess.
Bruno's conscience smote him while he listened to the Countess von
Dunkelherz's ill-natured remarks. He answered somewhat shortly that the
little Violet being an only child and very delicate, absorbed much of
her mother's attention, and therefore she had the best of excuses for
remaining at home. A beginning had nevertheless been made, and Olga
took good care to keep up her renewed intimacy with the Prime Minister.
It may have been the vitiated town air which now affected Violet's
health; but she sensibly drooped, and caused her mother the keenest
anxiety. Her father (prompted by his evil adviser,) although
affectionate and kind, deemed his wife fanciful when she fretted over
the child's altered appearance, and became more and more displeased if
Alcyone absented herself from society.
There was to be a grand masked ball in honour of Prince Bertrand and
Princess Berta's birthday. They were allowed to choose their own
diversion, and they fixed that their father and the Grand Duchess
should appear as Oberon and Titania, and that every guest should
personate some fairy character. All was excitement, while the Grand
Duke himself, assisted by the court painter, and somewhat guided by the
predilections of his children, chose the dress to be worn by each
visitor, and had it written on the card of invitation. Berta and her
brother settled to represent Prince Hempseed and his sister Olivia.
Other heroes and heroines too numerous to be recorded were selected.
Snow-white and Rose-red, the Blue Bird, the Yellow Dwarf, Beauty and
the Beast, Cinderella, and many others found suitable representatives,
but the Prime Minister and his wife were requested to become, for the
time being, Puss in Boots and the White Cat. At one o'clock all masks
were to be removed, and a complete transformation-scene enacted, as
regarded many of the characters, who would at that hour, like the White
Cat and Cinderella, throw off their disguise, and, uncovering their
faces, shine forth resplendent in garments the most exquisite that
could be devised for the occasion. Then, marshalled in due rank, the
King and Queen of Fairyland proposed to lead their motley subjects to
supper. The fun grew fast and furious in the little court of Rumpel
Stiltzein. Desperate were the efforts of the tailors, milliners, and
shoemakers to meet the multifarious demands made on their time, which
was very short; and on their invention, which was taxed to the utmost.
Alcyone from the first disliked the idea of the ball, and all the
rampant merriment connected with it. Her ailing child required constant
care, and she herself felt far from strong. She mooted the question of
remaining at home, but Bruno would not hear of this, and indeed
answered her so reproachfully when she proposed it, that she made up
her mind to sacrifice her own desires, and please him by endeavouring
to throw herself heartily into the affair. During the many necessary
discussions with the other court ladies as to the all-important subject
of dress, the Baroness was left alone with Olga, who of late had, to
all appearance, been her most sympathizing friend. The crafty Countess
soon extracted from Alcyone the little history of her own reluctance to
appear, her husband's consequent displeasure, and her determination to
gratify him by paying every possible attention to her dress.
The eventful evening at length arrived. Baron Bruno, after an early
dinner, was compelled to attend for a short period an important sitting
of the Reichstag. His house was at some distance from the public
offices of state; he therefore took his fancy ball-dress with him, and
settled to change his attire in his own small official room, while
Alcyone should start at a later hour, and call for him on her way to
the palace. Alcyone felt unusually sad as her husband waved her a hasty
adieu and speeded off to the Reichstag. He strictly enjoined her to
observe due punctuality in her engagements, as the Grand Duke wished to
enter the ballroom in a grand procession formed of all his chief
ministers and officers of state, court ladies, and hereditary noblemen.
Violet had perceptibly drooped more and more, though her fond father
refused to see the change. He only, however, saw his little daughter at
brief intervals of his busy life, when a flush of delight at his
approach rounded her pale cheeks, and her dark-blue eyes sparkled with
the keen joy of being tossed or fondled in his arms.
After Bruno's departure, Alcyone ascended the nursery stairs, and found
Violet already in bed, but restless and uneasy, and tossing to and fro.
The large windows stood wide open, though very little air seemed as yet
to stir among the trees of the square in which they lived.
The mother sat down beside her child. The baby was at once comforted,
and held out its little arms to be taken to her bosom. Alcyone lifted
her from the cot, and, dismissing the maids, seated herself by the
window in a low rocking-chair, and crooned soft lullabies to her
infant. The babe did not yet sleep, but she lay soothed and quiet,
gazing into her mother's sweet face, and smiling when she caught the
bright sparkling of the radiant gem.
Suddenly the peaceful scene was changed; with a troubled cry the little
Violet started up, and at the same instant Lady Olga stood in the
doorway. Hardly apologising for her unexpected appearance in the
Baroness's private apartments, Olga unfolded her extraordinary plan.
After expressing great sympathy for the child's indisposition, and
professing to understand fully Alcyone's distressing position, she
asked leave to proceed at once to the Baroness's dressing-room, and
there and then array herself in the garments of the "White Cat." As she
and Alcyone were much the same height and size, this change of dress
could be very easily accomplished, and would form an indistinguishable
disguise; she then further proposed to set off in the carriage and
personate the fair young Baroness at the ball. At first Alcyone would
not listen to her artful suggestion, justly fearing the displeasure of
her husband; but Olga assured her that long before the deception must
at any rate cease (on the unmasking at one o'clock) she would, using
the privilege of an old acquaintance, explain the whole affair to Baron
Bruno, and represent to him aright the mother's fears for her child.
Indeed those fears seemed but too well founded, for since Olga's
entrance the baby had grown wild and feverish, and kept up an incessant
moaning as if in actual pain. Harassed and perplexed therefore, Alcyone
at length yielded a reluctant consent, and, ringing the bell, ordered
lights to be placed in her dressing-room, and attendance to be given to
aid the Countess von Dunkelherz in her somewhat difficult toilet. One
consideration which weighed much with Alcyone in her final decision,
was the unfortunate coincidence that this happened to be the very night
of her monthly retirement--that mysterious proceeding of which her
husband had now grown so impatient that she was fain never to mention
it, but strove to accomplish her purpose as best she might without
attracting his attention. She had all the time hoped to slip away
unnoticed from the ball, but she well knew this would be a very
difficult matter to accomplish, as besides her own timidity about
leaving the palace by herself, her extreme beauty made her remarkable
in whatever society she moved.
Still it was with a foreboding of evil she resolved for the first time
to act without her husband's knowledge, and remain unbidden at home.
It is scarcely necessary to add that Olga, from frequent inquiries and
a diligent system of espionage, was well aware of the mysterious and
so-called solitary hours entered upon by the Baroness at stated
intervals, and she was equally cognisant of the fact that the wonted
period had arrived for the observance of this strange custom, and had
laid her plans accordingly.
The evening wore on; after the noisy departure of the carriage
containing its unusual occupant, all within the house became peaceful
and silent. Without was heard the ceaseless hum of the busy city, but
faint, far, and mellowed by distance. Overhead the stars twinkled
cheerfully forth from the blue bed on which they had lain fast asleep
during the hot reign of the sun.
It is twilight in the city,
And the sun has sunk afar,
Where a brightness gilds the pathway
Of the quiet evening star.
Dimly in the hazy distance
Twinkle all the myriad eyes
Glittering far into the darkness,
Where the mighty city lies.
Twittering through the leafy branches,
Birds are calling soft and low,
Scarcely heard amid the humming
Of the city's ceaseless flow.
Yet I hear their gentle voices,
And their evening hymn of love,
While the stars are clearer shining,
From the dark-blue heaven above.
Happy children! careless playing,
In and out beneath the trees,
With your childish hair all streaming,
Floating on the evening breeze.
Pure and blissful hours of childhood,
Never prized until gone by,
Stay, oh! stay a while! and o'er me,
Let your lingering radiance lie.
Leave a gleam of that bright sunshine
Which was ours in days of yore,
Ere we parted for life's battle,
Ere we left home's peaceful shore.
Voices then with ours were mingling,
That on earth are silent now,
Arms around us fondly twining,
That have long been still and low.
Yes--in gazing on the starlight,
Fancy sometimes strives to trace
Forms beloved amid the twilight,
Or a well-remembered face.
Angels now! yet be our guardians,
In this tearful vale below,
Shedding light around our pathway,
Giving comfort as we go.
So when life's frail chord is loos'ning,
And our eyes to sorrow close,
When the glorious morn is dawning
O'er the long sad night of woes,
Linger near us--that, when rising,
We may--child-like--meet again
Where the severed are united,
Where the weary have no pain.
Ever and anon the deep musical bell of the Reichstag clock boomed forth
amid the darkening shadows, telling of time's rapid progress and
remorseless flight, yet giving to many of the dwellers in Aronsberg a
feeling of joyful security and safety. For the tall tower stood over
and among them like some mighty guardian whose ceaseless care and
unsleeping vigilance kept watch amid the city by day and by night and
with cheerful voice proclaimed his vicinity--thus oftentime becoming a
loved companion to weary mortals whom sickness, separation, anxiety, or
sorrow kept awake through the livelong night.
Chime, Aronsberg bells, chime ceaselessly on,
Till partings be over and weary work done.
Boom o'er the broad waters, thou musical tone,
Remorseless thy knell, and I sorrow alone,
For perchance in my bosom shall waken no more,
The rapture that thrilled to thy chiming of yore.
The baby now sank to rest in its tiny cot, a heavenly smile irradiated
its little countenance, as if in some happy dream it was more than
compensated for the uneasy hours of pain and unrest so lately
experienced.
The hour of Alcyone's isolation approached: wrapped in her long flowing
robes, with her beautiful hair streaming over her shoulders, she bent
over the sleeping Violet and dropt a kiss and murmured a blessing over
her child; then slowly ascended the narrow stair which led to Bruno's
solitary chamber. The small door opened, then closed again with a
spring, and all was still, while the nurses below, whispering together,
knew their mistress was alone with the stars.
Nearly an hour passed by, and tranquillity reigned around; most of the
servants had gone to bed, those who remained up were in the lower and
more distant parts of the house. Hasty sounds suddenly broke upon the
still night air; the Baron's champing steeds drew up in the courtyard;
Bruno himself, flushed and agitated, sprang rapidly up-stairs, followed
by the ruthless Olga! He pushed past his astonished domestics, noisily
calling and seeking Alcyone in every room, including the nursery, where
he roused and startled his sleeping child. Finally he ascended his own
narrow stair, and entered the study. He paused at the small door so
often described, and tapping, called his wife's name once or twice; no
response came; without a moment's compunction, in excited passion, he
drew the key from an inner pocket, and, unlocking the door he had
solemnly promised to regard as sacred, threw it violently open.
With a loud grating noise the ill-fated portal swung back on its
hinges, and disclosed to his bewildered eyes a wondrous sight. Around
his wife stood five or six maidens of surpassing beauty; like her--yet
unlike--for oh! how clearly he could see the marks of human sorrow and
care which cast their shadow over her countenance alone. Each bore on
her forehead a brilliant jewel resembling Alcyone's; the most delicious
perfume was wafted on the air, and an indescribable mellow glow of
light emanated from and yet illuminated the lovely strangers. More than
this he had not time to observe; a terrible explosion shook the house
to its foundation, and he became enveloped in a choking impenetrable
vapour. Olga also, who, unobserved, with a bevy of terrified servants,
had followed in his footsteps, was half suffocated, seeing, however,
nothing of those radiant forms.
As the light breeze dissipated the stifling fumes, Alcyone, with sorrow
and dismay imprinted on her gentle features, stood inquiringly before
her husband, as if to demand some explanation of this sudden violation
of their compact. But now a youth, whom Bruno had never before seen,
stepped from behind Alcyone, with cold and majestic mien. Bowing
gravely to the Baron, he thus addressed him, in low thrilling tones:
"Behold in me, Hyas, the brother of Alcyone, come hither to aid and
defend my sister in the hour of need. I demand a full examination into
her conduct. Before others you have doubted her and intruded on her
privacy--before others her character must be cleared!"
Stunned and bewildered by these swiftly succeeding events, Bruno's
ready tongue for once completely failed him. Now--alas!--when too late,
he bitterly regretted his precipitation, and the credence he had too
easily lent to wicked and baseless insinuations.
Instead of keeping her promise to Alcyone, and explaining aright to the
Baron his wife's unpremeditated absence, Olga had made out that the
whole affair was a preconceived plot which she had been induced to
conceal till the last moment. She had furthermore hinted that the
gravest suspicions were aroused by the Baroness's non-appearance, which
of course became universally known and commented upon at the hour of
unmasking. At last she had so worked upon Bruno's ardent temperament
that, forgetting everything save the jealousy of the moment, he rushed
wildly home, causing quite a sensation at court and doing irreparable
mischief to his domestic happiness.
In spite of his sister's tearful remonstrances, Alcyone's brother now
demanded of the Baron when a public inquiry could be instituted; and on
hearing that it was possible on the morrow, he instantly cited the
affrighted Graefin von Dunkelherz to appear and proffer her charge
against the fair Alcyone, who for the first time recognised in the
Countess a deadly enemy.
Hyas furthermore insisted on keeping watch over his sister and her
child until Alcyone was proved beyond blame in the eyes of the world.
They were left alone together. The baffled Olga slunk away to her home.
Bruno, distressed and repentant, unavailingly paced his lonely chamber
until morning arrived.
At the earliest possible moment (after the late carousals of the night
before) the Prime Minister demanded an audience of his sovereign, and
the matter being then fully explained, the Grand Duke commanded that
the trial of the Baroness should take place at noon, in the Hochplatz,
a large open space surrounded by public buildings and gardens, and not
far from the Grand Ducal Palace. Bombastes, at Hyas' request, also sent
criers in every direction to summon the people to attend, and by twelve
o'clock the vast square was filled to overflowing.