And Its Consequences
Betty bent over her sister first, saying with a kind of quick intake of
her breath: "Esther, what is the matter? Are you hurt? Oh, I have always
been afraid that something dreadful would happen to you, you are so
good!"
And at this Esther smiled, although somewhat faintly, allowing Polly to
assist her to her feet.
"Well, I am not being punished for my virtues this time, Betty child,"
she answered. "I was just a ridiculous coward, and when that bullet
passed so close to my head that I am quite sure it cut off a lock of my
hair, it made me so faint and ill for an instant that I collapsed. I am
all right now. But I wonder where the shot could have come from?"
Then the three girls stood silently listening, almost equally pale and
shaken from their recent experience. In another moment they heard the
noise of some one stirring about in the underbrush at no great distance
away and walking in their direction. They waited speechless and without
moving.
Then suddenly, before they could see the speaker, a voice called out
angrily: "Don't try to escape; stay where you are or I shall fire again.
For I will not endure this lawlessness any longer."
And almost immediately a young man appeared before them in a hunter's
costume of rough gray tweed, carrying his gun in his hand. His
expression was angry and masterful, his face crimson and his eyes had
ugly lights in their blue depths. Yet instantly Esther recognized the
speaker as the same young fellow whom they had met on horseback a week
or ten days before.
At his first glance toward Esther and Polly his face changed; for
obviously he was both startled and mystified. Then as he caught sight of
Betty, who was standing just back of the other two girls, another wave
of crimson crossed his face, but this time it was due to embarrassment
and not anger. With a swift movement he lifted his hat and bowed so low
that in an American it would have seemed an absurdity. Yet somehow with
him the movement had both dignity and grace. Straightway Polly O'Neill,
in spite of her vexation, decided that never before had she seen a more
perfect "Prince Charming." The young man's hair was bright gold, his
skin naturally fair and yet sufficiently browned from exposure, his
features almost classic in shape. And while he was not exceptionally
tall, his figure was that of a young soldier in action with the same
muscular strength and virility.
"I shall never be able to express to you my chagrin and my regret," he
began, including the three girls in his speech but in reality addressing
himself to Betty. He spoke English with only the slightest foreign
accent. "These happen to be my woods and I have been greatly annoyed
recently by trespassers who destroy my game at a season of the year when
there can be neither profit nor pleasure in it. And this when the park
is posted with signs warning intruders."
"I am sorry that we did not chance to see the signs," Esther murmured.
"You can understand that we are strangers in this neighborhood,
Americans," Polly defended more hotly. "But of course we should not have
wandered in here without inquiring of some one whether or not we had the
privilege. In the United States we know very little about game preserves
and people are willing to have you enjoy the beauty of their forests.
But we shall leave immediately and promise never to trouble you again."
"But that means that you have not forgiven me and I ask your pardon with
all my heart. It is my pride, my great pleasure to have you consider my
place worthy of your attention. Miss Ashton," the young foreigner now
turned directly to Betty, "surely you can appreciate and pardon my
mistake."
Neither of the other two girls had been paying any special attention to
Betty, but at the stranger's surprising knowledge of her name they
turned toward her at once. And both decided that they had never seen
her look so pretty or so angry in her life. Apparently she had not
spoken before because she had not been willing to trust herself. And
Polly had a sudden sense of satisfaction in the knowledge that the
Princess did not lose her poise and self-control in her anger, as she so
invariably did.
"You ask us to understand and pardon your mistake," Betty now began
quietly. "But suppose that the bullet which you fired so carelessly had
killed my sister. Would you still have expected us to make the same
answer? Of course we are just as much intruders upon your property as if
we were men instead of American girls. But I presume that when you
fired, thinking that we might be poachers, you would have been
indifferent had you wounded one of us. For I believe in Germany it is
the fashion for the soldiers who are intended for the defense of their
country to have little respect for the lives of their country_men_."
This was a long and bitter speech for a young girl to have made. But
remember that Betty Ashton had been living in Germany for the past two
years at a time when the army had been frequently criticized and had
suffered just as most travelers do from the rudeness of German officers
upon the streets and in places of public amusement. Moreover, she had
not yet recovered from her moment of fright over Esther and was annoyed
at having their pleasure so destroyed.
Her accusation so surprised the young man to whom it was addressed that
for a moment he did not reply. For evidently he did not often find
himself obliged to be placed on the defensive side in a discussion and
the position did not please him.
"I regret to have frightened you. And I had no intention of injuring any
one," he remarked stiffly. "It was my plan to fire into the air, but I
stumbled at the critical moment. However, I did not suppose that the
shot came anywhere in your direction. And I am sorry that you should
consider this but another instance of the lack of courtesy in His
Majesty's officers."
There was an awkward pause. Betty was holding her big flowered hat
pressed close against her white dress, her lips were scarlet and her
face so pale that her gray eyes looked almost smoke-colored. The wind
and the long walk had loosened her hair until it was curling and blowing
about her forehead like tiny red-gold clouds. Honestly no young man
could have remained angry with her for any great length of time.
She slipped one arm through Esther's, as Esther had continued white and
nervous, and beckoning Polly with the other to join them, with the
merest inclination of her head the Princess started to lead the little
company away. But before she had gone more than a few feet she stopped
and turned around.
The young man was standing exactly where they had left him with his hat
still in his hand and his face and figure rigid.
Betty advanced nearer toward him. "Lieutenant von Reuter," she said, "it
is I who must now beg your pardon. You were kind to me once when my
maid and I lost our way in trying to find the village of Waldheim. But
under no circumstances should I have said anything that reflected upon
you or your friends. I know that you are an officer in the German army,
so naturally you must think as little of American courtesy as--" But not
knowing just how to end her sentence Betty did the wisest possible thing
and smiled.
And at once the young man was figuratively on his knees before her
again. "Don't go away just yet," he pleaded; "you must know that I have
been asking my cousin Frederick about you. It is he who has told me your
name and he must also have spoken of me to you. You yourselves have said
that it was lovely here in my forest and surely you must be weary enough
to remain a little time longer. It is not as though we were entire
strangers, with Frederick your friend and my relative."
This time Betty laughed outright. "Your cousin is scarcely our friend;
we have only boarded in the same pension with him in Berlin while my
sister was there studying music." She looked a little more searchingly
at Esther. Esther had not been very well for several weeks and now
certainly was unfit for the long walk home in the hottest part of the
afternoon without more rest.
With an inclination of her pretty head the Princess surrendered.
"If you really are sure that you won't mind we should like to sit here
in the shade a little longer," she confessed. "That is if we will not
trouble you. You must not feel that you must remain with us, for I
promise that we shall do nothing any harm."
Without replying, Carl von Reuter then led Esther to her discarded tree
trunk, the other girls having already found seats.
"If you will be good enough to wait for a few moments I should like very
much to bring you some tea. The little house there is my hunting lodge
and I have all sorts of bachelor arrangements inside," he announced. And
the suggestion was far too welcome for any one of the girls to decline.
Then in the five minutes of the young man's absence as rapidly as
possible Betty sketched the outline of her acquaintance with him and the
knowledge of his history which she had since been able to acquire. He
was the son of the German count whose stone castle they had seen, and of
course the heir to the title and estate. He was also, as she had already
revealed, a lieutenant in the German army and probably about twenty-two
or-three years old. The family was a very old and proud one and although
they still owned a great deal of land, they were extremely poor.
But Betty had to cease her confidences abruptly, seeing that their
unexpected host was coming toward them with four cups of tea and a tray
of small crackers and cakes.
No American man could have performed these small social services with so
little embarrassment, but as Carl explained he had had an English mother
and had been taught to assist her with their guests from the time he was
a boy.
And by the time the tea had been drunk and the cakes eaten the little
company had apparently reached terms of complete friendliness, having
already forgotten their uncomfortable earlier meeting.
"I am dreadfully sorry to find that your little house in the woods is
nothing but a hunting lodge," Betty confided. "For you see I have been
telling my sister and Miss O'Neill that this place was a kind of
enchanted forest where 'Hansel and Gretel' must once upon a time have
lost their way."
However, Carl von Reuter shook his head protestingly. "Why not think of
it instead as Siegfried's forest before he went forth in search of
Brunhilde."
"Won't you tell us the story of Siegfried?" Polly asked. "I have never
heard the opera and it has been such a long time since I read it."
Carl laughed. "I am a soldier, not a poet," he explained, "and the
legend is too long and too complicated for me to repeat all of it to
you. Besides, you are sure to recall it as soon as I begin. Siegfried,
you remember, was the son of Siegmund and Sieglinde and the youth who
knew no fear. He is brought up in a forest by a wicked dwarf named
Mime, who desires that Siegfried wrest the magic treasure of the
Nibelung from the giant Fafnir who guards it in the gaping cave of the
Niedhole. With the sword of his father Siegfried goes forth and destroys
the giant and then appears wearing the glittering tarn helmet, the
invincible armor and the magic ring. From the blood of the dead Fafnir,
with which Siegfried touches his lips, he is enabled to understand the
voices of birds. And when one of these sings to him of a maiden
surrounded by flames who can be won only by the man who knows no fear,
Siegfried sets out in search of Brunhilde. On a grassy mound he
discovers a sleeping figure clad in armor and surrounded by flames.
Removing the shield and helmet, he sees a flood of red-gold hair
rippling around the form of a sleeping woman."
The story teller stopped and Esther inquired:
"You know the story of Siegfried so well, I wonder if you sing?"
"Not very well," the young man replied. And then, as though to disprove
his own words and without further urging, he began singing in a fine,
clear tenor, glancing now and then toward Betty Ashton, the beautiful
song of Siegfried's that awakens the sleeping Brunhilde:
"No man it is!
Hallowed rapture
Thrills through my heart;
Fiery anguish
Enfolds my eyes.
My senses wander
And waver.
Whom shall I summon
Hither to help me?
Mother, mother!
Be mindful of me."
Later in the afternoon when they had almost reached their own cottage in
the woods, Betty suddenly slipped an arm across her older sister's
shoulder. Polly had already said good-by.
"After all we did discover a kind of enchanted forest, didn't we,
Esther?" she whispered.
But Esther was tired and annoyed. "Lieutenant von Reuter was an
agreeable enough fellow for a foreigner, if that is what you mean,
Betty," she returned. "But I got rather tired of his telling us the
story of Siegfried which I certainly knew perfectly well. Besides, it
seemed to me that he was trying to make an impression upon us. And I
shall never, never be able to understand how you can like these German
youths so much. I should feel a great deal happier about you and so
would your brother if you were safely back in Woodford."
"Don't be a goose, dear," was Betty's only answer.