One evening, the same on which Adalgoth had arrived with the King at
Taginal, Gotho, the shepherdess, stood in the sunset light upon the
southern declivity of the Iffinger, leaning upon her staff.
Round her gambolled and grazed her flock of sheep and lambs, and
gradually gathered close round their mistress, eagerly expecting to be
led to the sheepfold.
But they waited and bleated in vain, for the pretty maiden bent over
the mossy stones on the edge of the clear mountain brook. Heaped up in
her leather apron lay the lovely scented flowers of the mountain:
thyme, wild-rose, mint--which grew on the moist edges of the brook--and
the dark blue enzian.
Gotho murmured and spoke to herself, to the flowers, and to the running
stream, throwing the flowers into the water, sometimes singly,
sometimes in little sprays or unfinished wreaths.
"How many," said the girl, as she tossed her thick yellow braids over
her shoulder, "how many of you have I sent away to greet him! For he
has gone to the south, and the water runs there too. But I know not if
you give my greeting, for he has never yet come home. But you, as you
rise and sink in the dance of the ripples, you beckon me to follow you.
Ah! if I could! or follow the little fish which dart down the stream
like dark arrows! Or the swift mountain swallows that skim through the
air as free as thought! Or the rosy-winged evening clouds, when the
mountain wind drives them southwards! But most surely of all would the
heart of the seeker herself find him, could she but leave the mountain,
and follow him to the distant and sunny land. But what should I do down
there? A shepherdess amongst the warriors or the wise court-ladies! And
I shall certainly see him again, as surely as I shall again see the
sun, although it sinks behind yonder mountains. It is sure to come
again, and yet! all the time between its parting ray and its morning
greeting is filled with longing!"
From the house there suddenly sounded a far-reaching tone, a blast upon
the twisted ram's horn. Gotho looked up; it had become darker; she
could see the red fire upon the hearth glimmer through the open door.
The sheep answered the well-known sound with louder bleatings,
stretching their necks in the direction of the house and the stalls.
The brown and shaggy sheep-dog sprang upon Gotho, as if to remind her
that it was time to go home.
"I will go directly," she said, smiling, and stroking the dog's head.
"Ah! the sheep are sooner tired of their pasture than the shepherdess
of her thoughts! Now, forwards, White Elf, thou art already become a
great fat sheep!"
She went down the hill towards the little hollow between two mountain
summits, where the house and stalls found protection from the wind and
the avalanches. There the last rays of the sun dazzled her no more. The
stars were already visible. Gotho looked up at the sky.
"They are so beautiful, because _he_ has looked at them so often!"
A shooting-star fell to the south.
"He calls me! Thither!" cried Gotho, slightly trembling.
She now drove the sheep more quickly forward, and presently shut
them into their cot, and entered the large and only chamber of the
ground-floor of the dwelling-house.
There she found her grandfather stretched upon the raised stone placed
close to the hearth; his feet covered with two large sheep-skins.
He looked paler and older than usual.
"Seat thyself beside me, Gotho," he said, "and drink; here is milk
mixed with honey. Listen to me. The time is come of which I have often
spoken. We must part. I am going home. Thy dear face is indistinct; my
tired old eyes can no longer distinguish thy features. And yesterday
when I tried to go down to the spring, my knees failed me. Then I felt
that the end was near, and I sent the goat-herd over to Teriolis with a
message. But thou shalt not be present when his soul flies out of old
Iffa's mouth. The death of a man is not lovely to behold--especially
death upon the straw-bed. And thou hast never yet seen anything
sorrowful. This shadow shall not fall upon thy young life. To-morrow,
before cockcrow, brave Hunibad will come over from Teriolis to fetch
thee--he has promised me to do so. His wounds are not yet healed; he is
yet weak; but he says that he cannot remain idle when, as they say, the
war will be sure to break out again. He wishes to go to King Totila in
Rome. And there too thou must go with an important message. He shall be
thy guide and protector. Bind thick soles of beech-rind under thy feet,
for the way is long. Brun, the dog, may accompany thee. Take that bag
of goat's leather; in it are six gold pieces which belonged to--to
Adalgoth's--to your father; they are Adalgoth's--but thou mayst use
them--they will last till thou reachest Rome. And take a bundle of
scented mountain hay from the meadows of the Iffinger, and lay thy head
upon it at night; then thou wilt sleep more soundly. And when thou
reachest Rome and the golden palace of the King, and enterest the hall,
observe which of the men wears a golden circlet upon his brow, and from
whose countenance shines a light like that of the morning--that will be
King Totila. Then bow thy head before him--but not too much--and do not
bend thy knee; for thou art a free Goth's free child. Thou must give
the King this roll, which I have carefully kept for many summers. It
comes from Uncle Wargs, who was buried by the mountain."
The old man lifted a brick from the masonry which separated the hearth
from the floor of stamped clay, and took from a hole a roll of papyrus,
which, tied and sealed, was folded in a piece of parchment covered with
writing and fastened with strange seals.
"Here," he said, "take the greatest care of this writing. That upon the
parchment cover I myself dictated to Hermegisel over in Majae. He swore
to keep it secret, and he has kept his oath. And now he can speak no
more from out of his grave in the church. And thou and Hunibad--you
cannot read. That is a good thing, for it might be dangerous for thee
and--and another--if any one knew what that roll contains before
Totila, the mild and just King, has read it. Above all, hide it
carefully from the Italians. And in every town to which thou comest,
ask if there dwells Cornelius Cethegus Caesarius, the Prefect of Rome.
And if the door-keepers say aye, then turn upon thy heel, however tired
thou mayst be, and however late the night, or hot the day, and wander
on until thou hast put three several waters between thee and the man
Cethegus. And no less carefully than the writing--thou seest that I
have put rosin, such as drops from the fir-trees, upon it instead of
wax, and I have scratched our house-mark upon the seal, the mark that
our cattle and wagons bear--not less carefully keep this old and costly
gold."
And he took from the hole the half of a broad gold bracelet, such as
the Gothic heroes wore upon their naked arms. He kissed the bracelet
and the imperfect Runic inscription upon it reverently.
"This came from Theodoric, the great King, and from him--my dear--son
Wargs. Mark--it belongs to Adalgoth. It is his most valuable
inheritance. The other half of the bracelet--and the half of the
inscription--I gave to the boy when I sent him away. When King Totila
has read the writing, and if Adalgoth is present--as he must be if he
obeys my orders--then call Adalgoth and put half-ring to half-ring, and
ask the King to pronounce a judgment. He is said to be mild and wise
and clear as the light of day. He will judge righteously. If not he,
then no one. Now kiss my darkening eyes, and go and sleep. May the Lord
of heaven and all his clear eyes, sun, moon, and stars, shine upon all
thy ways. When thou hast found Adalgoth, and when thou dwellest with
him in the little rooms of the close houses in the narrow streets of
the city, and when it feels too small and close and narrow down
there--then both of you think of your childish days up here upon the
high Iffinger, and once again the fresh mountain air will seem to blow
across your heated brows."
Silently, without objection, without fear, without a question, the
shepherd-girl listened and obeyed.
"Farewell, grandfather!" she said, kissing him upon his eyes; "I thank
thee for much love and faithfulness."
But she did not weep.
She knew not what death was.
She went away from him to the threshold of the door, and looked out at
the mountain landscape, which now appeared dark and melancholy. The sky
was clear, the summits of the mountains shone in the moonlight.
"Farewell!" said Gotho; "farewell, thou Iffinger! and thou,
Wolf's-head! and thou, old Giant! and thou, running below,
bright-shining Passara! Do you know it already? To-morrow I leave you
all. But I go willingly, for I go to _him_!"