The door opened: a female figure was about to enter; he turned, and the
painful suspense escaped in a shrill exclamation,--"Prison Fairy!" The
door was closed, and light footsteps rapidly retreated. As in a dream
we often vainly strive to reach something with trembling haste, the
width of the little space he must pass to pursue the fugitive seemed
far too great for Ottmar. His hands trembled so violently in his hurry
that he opened the heavy old lock with difficulty, and when he emerged
she had disappeared.
"Where is she?" he asked of a jailer who was just coming up the
passage.
"Does your lordship mean the Prison Fairy? I have not seen her to-day."
"That is a lie! She was here just now."
"Yes, your lordship, it may be so; she always bids the Herr Inspector
good-morning before she goes to the prisoners."
"Call the inspector here," said _Heinrich_, returning to the cell.
The official, an elderly man, with honest features, obeyed the summons.
"Herr Inspector," said _Heinrich_, sternly, "you have for several years
allowed a lady secret access to the prisoners."
"Yes, Herr Geheimrath," said the man, with dignified composure.
"Have you ever received permission to do so from any higher authority?"
"No, Herr Geheimrath."
"And yet you have exceeded the limits of your instructions?"
"I must bear the punishment patiently."
"Are you so courageous?"
"Herr Geheimrath," said the old man, modestly, "I have done what my own
heart dictated, and was aware that in following my convictions of
Christian duty I was violating only the letter, not the spirit, of my
office."
"A prison official, and possessed of a heart! The two do not harmonize,
Herr Inspector."
"Pardon me, I did not know it. I cherish the belief that our wise
government desires to have the criminal justly not cruelly treated; and
to serve the arm of justice is an office which a man who has a heart
can hold, although it sometimes falls heavily upon it."
"These are the subtle reasonings of the Prison Fairy, as she is called
here. Yet I am disposed to pass over the affair if you will instantly
tell me the lady's name, social position, and residence."
"Herr Geheimrath," said the inspector, smiling, "I think if my offense
deserves pardon you will be sufficiently just to grant it without
conditions, for I cannot possibly fulfill those you have just
mentioned."
"Herr Inspector!"
"Herr Geheimrath, I give you my word of honor that I do not know who
the lady is, nor where she lives."
"I must believe you; but in that case your course is all the more
inexplicable."
"I see, Herr Geheimrath, that I owe you a detailed account of the
matter, and am ready to confirm each of my statements upon oath."
"Well?" said _Heinrich_, with ill-repressed curiosity.
"When, five years ago, the jail was filled with political prisoners, a
young man named Reinhold was brought in who excited my compassion in
the highest degree. He had taken part in the conflicts in the Province
of B----, but seemed so feeble and gentle that I could not understand
how he had been concerned in such deeds. He was sentenced to death, but
the prince commuted the decree to an imprisonment of twenty years. His
winning, lovable character aroused the sympathy of all who saw him. Day
by day the unfortunate man grew paler and more feeble; but he said
nothing. No one heard a word of complaint from his lips, and he always
had the same gentle smile for all who entered his cell. Even the
jailers pitied this quietly endured, silent suffering, and remarked to
each other that the prisoner seemed ill. I went to him, and urgently
pressed him to tell me what was the matter. He thanked me and protested
that he was quite well; his heart was heavy, but no one could help him
there except the one whose coldness had made him rush into his crime
and misfortune, and whom he must love till the day of his death. I did
not wish to press him with any further questions, because the
recollection seemed to exhaust him. One day the young lady of whom we
are speaking came to me and implored me through her tears to procure
her an interview with the prisoner, Reinhold. I refused. The next day
she came again, as she said, to inquire after the prisoner's health,
and begged me to allow her to do so daily. This, of course, I could not
deny her. She appeared in my little room regularly every afternoon at a
certain hour, and I must confess that the young girl soon became as
dear to me as if she had been my own child. She did not tell me who she
was, but her whole conduct showed that she must belong to a good
family, and be perfectly pure in heart; besides, I was too modest to
ask what she did not tell me of her own free will. One day I could give
her no good news about the prisoner's health. His weakness had greatly
increased. She received my communication with so much sorrow that I
could no longer doubt some close tie bound her to Reinhold, and that
she was the very person for whom he was grieving so bitterly. She
clasped my hands in agony and implored me only to let her look at him a
moment through the open door of his cell. I could not refuse the poor
child this. I led her to the spot, went to the prisoner, and left the
door slightly ajar, that she, concealed behind it, might look in. But
who can depend upon the unruly heart of seventeen? Scarcely had I
addressed two words to Reinhold when she rushed in, and, with a cry of
agony, threw herself upon his breast. Neither could speak, and my own
tears flowed freely. The unhappy man was so weak that he could not
endure this tempest of joy, but fell from her arms pale and lifeless.
She sank on the floor beside him and silently took his head in her lap.
There she sat as if the Virgin had appeared in bodily form with the
dead Christ. Herr Geheimrath, no one worthy of the name of man could
have separated them; it would have seemed to me like sacrilege!"
"Go on," said _Heinrich_, in the greatest suspense.
"When Reinhold had partially recovered, a touching scene ensued,--a
scene which may be felt but not described. They had never spoken to
each other before; she did not even seem to have returned his
affection, and implored his forgiveness for her want of love which had
driven him out into the world to his ruin. But she would make amends.
She called me to witness that she solemnly betrothed herself to him,
and implored me in the name of the God before whom I should one day
have to stand in the great and final account, to give her once for all
free admittance to her betrothed husband's cell. I perceived how she
had outwitted me by so completely captivating me during her daily
visits, that I could no longer refuse her anything. I was convinced
that the prisoner had in her one who would faithfully care for his
soul, for she is pure and gentle as a child, wise and firm as a man. So
I granted her desire, and up to this moment have never repented it; she
has brought a better spirit into the institution, and exerts a
remarkable power over the prisoners."
"And the betrothed bridegroom 2" asked _Heinrich_.
"She thought she could still save him by her affection, and nursed him
with admirable tenderness. He was happy; but even as grief had once
threatened to destroy him, so it was now with love,--he slowly
languished.
"After a time she perceived it and attributed it to prison life. She
found that the greatest suffering a man can feel is loss of freedom,
bore in her heart the deepest compassion, not only for him but his
companions in misfortune, and several times assured me that if she did
not need all her time for Reinhold she would gladly visit the other
prisoners, but she did not wish to deprive him of a moment."
"Just then a political criminal who had been sentenced to fifteen
years' imprisonment was brought in, so infuriated by his fate that he
tore at his chains with his teeth, and tried to dash out his brains
against the heavy irons like Caius C[oe]lius, as he said; in short, he
behaved like a madman. No one could obtain any influence over him; he
cursed all who approached him and scoffed at the priests. Then I
thought I would ask the Prison Fairy--her lover had jestingly called
her so because she forbade him to mention her real name--if she would
not try to bring the lunatic to reason. She went to him with the utmost
readiness, and the man was so charmed by her beauty and courage that he
yielded to her and obeyed her with the greatest devotion. If he ever
regain freedom, he will owe it to that girl that he is not lunatic or a
reprobate.
"Six months had elapsed, when we heard a cry of despair from Reinhold's
cell; and when we hurried to it, found her in the same attitude as on
their first meeting,--kneeling on the floor supporting her lover's head
in her arms. But this time he was not to wake again,--he was dead. The
Prison Fairy wept over the pallid face so bitterly that the jailers
crept noiselessly out of the cell, that they might not see her grief.
The physician attached to the prison was summoned; said that he had had
heart disease, and perhaps would have lived no longer under any
circumstances. We talked to her as well as we could; and when she saw
how deeply her sorrow grieved us, she composed herself and consoled
_us_. But when the prison door opened and the corpse was borne out, she
broke down, and shrieked, Poor Reinhold, now you are _free_!' The tone
still rings in my ears; I shall never forget it as long as I live.
"When we were alone she thanked me with touching affection, and
entreated me henceforth to grant her admittance to all the prisoners,
to alleviate the mental tortures, which often far exceeded the crime
and the purpose of the punishment. After witnessing her success with
the furious Sebastian, I could not refuse the noble and benevolent wish
in which her soul sought consolation; and you must permit me to
believe, Herr Geheimrath, that a blessing follows her wherever she
goes."
"But does she seem to be entirely consoled now?" asked _Heinrich_.
"For two years she mourned deeply; nay, I often watched her with real
anxiety; but at last time and her healthful nature asserted their
rights. She grew stronger, gradually became calmer, even gay, and for
the last year has been the same vivacious child she was five years ago.
Now you know all, honored sir, and can judge for yourself."
_Heinrich_ gazed into vacancy long and thoughtfully. At last he said,
kindly, "Under such extraordinary circumstances people must of course
make exceptions. You are an honest man, Herr Inspector!"
"I thank you, Herr Geheimrath!"
"But now, tell me, has it never occurred to you to send some one after
this strange girl, to see what direction she takes?"
"She always went to the stand of hackney-coaches and drove away in one
of them. There is a consistency in everything she does, which would
sometimes terrify one if he had not learned to know her kind heart."
"I thank you for your report. Farewell, Herr Inspector." _Heinrich_
took his hat and went out.
"Albert must be free! the Prison Fairy must become mine!" said he, as
he left the prison.