Das Rheingold
A girl sat on a flat rock beside a small stream of water, evidently
drying her hair in the rays of the sun, for it hung loose over her
shoulders and shone red and gold and brown, seeming to ripple down from
the crown of her head to the ground. She was entirely alone and a close
group of trees formed a kind of green temple behind her. It had been an
extremely warm day so that even the birds were resting from song and
from labor.
Suddenly the girl tore into small pieces the letter that she had been
writing, tossing them into the air like a troop of white butterflies.
"There is no use of my trying to do anything sensible this afternoon,"
Betty Ashton sighed, "I am so happy over being in the country once more
with nothing to do but to do nothing. I was dead tired of all those
people at the pension, of Fritz and Franz and all the rest of them. It
is lovely to be alone here in the German forests----"
Then unexpectedly Betty Ashton straightened up, looking about her in
every possible direction in a puzzled fashion while hurriedly arranging
her hair. For although she could see no one approaching, she could hear
an unmistakable sound, a kind of mellow whistling, then flute-like notes
and afterwards a low throbbing, as though the wings of imprisoned things
were beating in the air.
Betty stared through the open spaces between the trees, since from that
direction the sound was now approaching. But when and where had she
heard that peculiar music before? However, the Germans were such a
strangely musical race that probably any one of her neighbors could
play.
Then with a smothered expression of vexation, the girl got up on her
feet and took a few steps forward. There was no mistaking the figure
slowly advancing, the long light hair, the mild eyes and timid though
persistent manner. But how in the world had Frederick von Reuter found
her, when she had been careful not to mention where they were going in
saying farewell at the pension?
"Why, Herr von Reuter," Betty exclaimed, divided between vexation and
the thought that she must not be rude, "what are you doing in this part
of the world and how did you happen to discover me?"
At this question the young man abruptly ceased his sentimental playing,
though instead of answering Betty in a sensible fashion, he pointed
first toward her hair and then toward the water behind her and the
circle of hills.
"I haf come in search of '_Das Rheingold_,'" he murmured in his funny,
broken English, "and I haf found a Rhein _maedchen, nicht wahr_?"
Betty bit her lips. She was not in the mood for nonsense and it was
difficult to conceive of her present companion as the hero of Wagner's
great opera.
"Let's not be absurd," she returned coldly. "And please answer my
questions." Betty did not mean to be disagreeable, for she did not
actually dislike this young man--he was too queer and apparently too
simple. Nevertheless it was impossible for her to appreciate how unlike
she was to any other girl with whom the young German had ever
associated. Her frankness, her self-possession, her brightness and of
course her beauty, all of which were ordinary characteristics of most
American girls, were a kind of miracle to Fritz.
"I haf come into this place that I may see _you_," he replied. "And your
_Mutter_ has told me where I must come to look. But this neighborhood I
know _sehr wohl_. It is the castle of my uncle which you may haf seen on
a hill not far away. It is of stone with a high wall around it----"
But Betty's expression had now changed, her eyes were sparkling and her
color rapidly changing. How could poor Fritz have guessed that no higher
emotion than curiosity stirred her? She now pointed invitingly toward a
fallen tree, seating herself on one end of it.
[Illustration: "TELL ME MORE ABOUT THE PLACES NEAR HERE"]
"Do tell me more about the places near here, if you know about them,"
she suggested. "I was perfectly sure that they had strange and romantic
histories. I think I can guess which is your uncle's estate. Has it a
long avenue of linden trees and a lodge covered with ivy and a lake with
a waterfall?"
Betty hesitated, for even Fritz was looking somewhat startled at her
knowledge of details.
"And it may all be yours some day!" the girl added, hoping to change the
current of her companion's thoughts.
But the young man shook his head. "No," he returned honestly, "I haf in
my heart no such idea. My cousin is younger than I am, stronger----"
Betty glanced over toward the blue rim of hills. "Is your cousin a
girl?" she queried softly.
Young Herr von Reuter was again surprised. "I thought I haf told you.
No, he is a man, like me. Oh, no, not like me," he added sadly. "My
cousin is tall like me, but he carries of himself so otherwise." Fritz
touched his own shoulders, owing their stoop perhaps to the long hours
spent in going over his accounts in the bank. "And his hair it is light
and his eyes blue. And there is a shine on his hair that makes it so
golden as Siegfried's. And when he laughs!" Poor Fritz's face now wore
the same expression of mild adoration which he had oftentimes bestowed
upon Betty.
"But if you are so awfully fond of your cousin and he is a count living
in that old stone castle, why does he not do something for you? I should
think your uncle----"
"You do not _verstehen_, you _Amerikaner_" Fritz answered. "My uncle is
_sehr_ poor himself. It is hard to live as he must. Some day my cousin
must marry a rich girl with his title and his good looks."
Betty laughed. "Oh, that's the plan, is it? Well, let us walk on back to
the cottage and find mother. I am sure she will enjoy talking to you."
Again Betty Ashton's manner had changed to its original indifference.
Fritz seemed bewildered and a little depressed. "It is _schoener_ here,"
he replied. However, he got up and obediently followed Betty out of her
retreat. She was more than half a mile from the cottage which they had
secured for the summer time. And they were compelled to pass out of the
woods and walk along a country lane for a part of the way. There were
few persons using this lane at four o'clock on a hot July afternoon, and
so Betty had felt that she would be perfectly safe from observation. She
had left home with her hair still damp from washing and simply tucked up
under a big summer hat.
Now she was feeling disheveled and uncomfortable and most devoutly
anxious not to meet anyone on their return journey. It had been tiresome
of her mother to have revealed her whereabouts.
Then all at once Betty found herself blushing and wishing that she could
hide somewhere along the road. For there advancing toward them was a
handsome riding horse. Could it be possible that Herr von Reuter's
cousin was seeking him? She must not meet him under the present
conditions, not if what she believed were true.
But the horse kept moving toward them with greater rapidity, while Fritz
plodded on slowly at her side, telling her some story of the history of
the neighborhood and not understanding that for the time being she had
lost interest in it.
Betty glanced about her. There was no place where she might hide herself
without being seen in the act; besides her companion could never be made
to understand her behavior and would be sure to reveal his bewilderment.
No, she must simply continue walking on with her head averted and her
attention too concentrated upon Herr von Reuter's information to be
conscious of anything else.
Now the low voice at her ear abruptly ceased, and turning in surprise to
glance at him, Betty beheld Fritz's ordinarily placid countenance
crimsoning with what certainly looked like anger instead of pleasure at
the appearance of his admired cousin.
"_Ach Himmel!_" exclaimed poor Fritz, "is one never to lose him?"
Betty would have liked to stamp her foot with vexation. For the figure
on horseback was wholly unlike the German knight whom her companion had
recently described. Here was no Siegfried with shining hair and armor,
but a small dark person whom she had hoped never to see again. He reined
up his horse, slid off, and after a surprised scowl at Fritz, greeted
Betty as though she could hardly fail to be gratified by his appearance.
"You had neglected to tell me where I might find you, but Frau Hohler
was kinder," Franz Schmidt declared at once.
Surely Betty's manner might have discouraged almost anyone else, but not
so pompous and self-satisfied a character as Franz. Money appeared to
him as the only really important thing in the world and he had an idea
that Betty Ashton had but little of it. Therefore she must be impressed
by his attentions. Notwithstanding he decided at this moment she would
soon have to choose between him and the ridiculous Fritz.
Franz was now walking along by the other side of Betty, leading his
horse. And all the time the girl kept wondering what she could do or say
to get rid of one or both of her escorts. Fortunately she would find no
one at home except her mother. Esther's and Dick's train did not arrive
for another hour. They doubtless would have been amused and Dick very
probably angry. How nonsensical she must appear marching along in such a
company!