Late as it was, Louis hastened to his friend Heissenheimer, and told
him all that had occurred.
“You do injustice to my fair friend Nina,” said the merchant; “she has
kindness of heart, feeling, and”--
“No more of her!” interrupted the artist: “I have made up my mind what
to do, and am determined to offer my hand to Caroline!”
“Well,” said his old friend, “then I will say no more. But the how, and
when? You had better do it in writing; for you cannot easily find an
opportunity of speaking alone with her. I will be the bearer of your
letter--your _postillon d’amour_.”
Louis agreed with joy, and promised to bring the letter next morning.
After he had returned home, he considered the step he was about to
take; and asked himself earnestly, if he believed _a noble apprehension
and feeling for a noble art, a sufficient pledge for nobility and
purity of soul_? He thought of instances in which the highest taste in
art had seemed to be accompanied by a mean and unworthy spirit; but
further attention convinced him that in all these cases the taste had
been perverted or vitiated, or else the world’s judgment had mistaken
the character of the individuals.
After some reflection, he wrote a letter containing a formal offer of
his hand to Caroline. He confessed his former partiality for Nina, and
that his affection had been won by the feeling and soul evinced in her
singing. On that security for mind and heart he was willing to rest the
happiness of his life!
The letter was given next morning to Heissenheimer, who promised to
deliver it. About noon, the impatient artist called again on the
merchant, who had left for him the following note:
“DEAR LOUIS:
“Your letter was delivered; but I have no answer for you, for I could
only slip it into Caroline’s hand, her mistress being present. Ricco
and his daughter are gone into the country. They sent to invite you
to join them; but you were not at home. Pressing business prevents my
seeing you. I send you information, however, as the circumstances may
be favorable to you; it is possible you may find Caroline alone at the
house. This evening I shall expect to hear from you.
“HEISSENHEIMER.”
Our artist lost no time in hastening to the chapel-master’s house. He
rang, and rang; but no one admitted him. After several trials with the
same success, he resolved to wait till evening, when Ricco and Nina
might be expected to return. Caroline would then be certainly at home.
Who knows, thought he, that she has not some friend, whom she has gone
to consult?
He counted the hours impatiently, till it was quite dark; and stood
again among the lindens opposite the house. The windows were open,
but the curtains down; there was no light, a sure sign that the
chapel-master had not returned. All at once he heard the sound of a
piano. It must be Caroline, taking the opportunity of the absence of
her master and mistress, to indulge herself in her beloved art!
Quickly, but noiselessly, Louis stole up the steps, entered at the
door, and passed through the hall. He listened at the door leading
into the room; she was singing, with her rich, expressive voice, the
same song he had first heard. He could distinguish every word, the
closing line being repeated with some variations. The whole song was
unspeakably touching, and full of life, love, and hope, such as only a
poetic spirit could express. It filled the listener, like magic, with a
feeling of delicious sadness; the soft breath of spring, the whisper of
love, could alone be compared with it!
Louis breathed quickly. Now is the time or never, thought he, and
opened the door. There was only sufficient light in the room to show
the outline of a female figure, sitting with drooping head before the
piano.
The young man drew nigh, unobserved; and suddenly seizing her hand,
“Caroline!” he cried, in a voice trembling with emotion. She started
up; he still held her hand, and whispered, “Caroline, canst thou love
me?”
The girl trembled, and placed the hand that was at liberty before her
eyes. Her lover tried to remove it, and felt her burning tears upon his
own. He pressed her to his bosom.
At last, she whispered softly, “Will you love me, questioning not who
I am?” Louis kissed the lips that uttered these words, and replied,
“Forever and ever!”
Leaning on the arm of the young man, the agitated girl led the way out
of the music room, and through two or three apartments, towards Nina’s
cabinet. As they stood before the door, she whispered again, “Grant
me my first petition; close your eyes till the word is given to open
them.” Louis obeyed, in some surprise; they entered the cabinet; she
drew away her hand; they stood a moment still. At last, he heard a
strange voice say, “Now, Louis!” and opened his eyes.
The room was lighted up; directly before him stood Heissenheimer; a few
paces off, Ricco, supporting the form of a young girl, whose face was
hid on his breast. The Italian seemed much moved, but did not utter a
word.
Louis stood mute with surprise and embarrassment; at length,
recollecting himself, he repeated anxiously the name of “Caroline!” The
weeping girl lifted her face from Ricco’s bosom, and turned towards
him. It was NINA!
“Nina!” exclaimed the young man.
“Nina--Caroline--what you will,” answered Heissenheimer; “but the
self-same enchantress, whose song has won your heart.”
“No! Is it possible? Oh, can I believe it!” cried Louis, looking
bewildered around him.
“The same!” said Ricco. And Nina herself confirmed the truth.
No longer doubting, the artist seized her fair hand, and drew her
gently to his breast. Long, long, he held her there in silence;
amazement--love--unspeakable rapture--deprived him of the power of
speech.
At last Ricco, who had been walking up and down the room in great
emotion, broke the silence. “Young friend,” he cried, “thou hast nobly
borne the trial. Art is a divinity--and for the true artist, _no_
sacrifice is too great! I vowed--and would have kept my vow--to give
my daughter to no one who could not value her mind and heart beyond
her outward charms! He who could admire the superficial, frivolous
maiden, beautiful as she was, and wish for nothing more--would have
been unworthy of her better self. Too often have I heard fair words
in praise of art; too rarely does the action correspond; and he alone
has right to upbraid his opponents with their want of discernment, who
not only has better judgment, but suffers that judgment to guide his
conduct. Now, take my girl if you will! I welcome you as my son!” Louis
answered by embracing the kind old man.
When their feelings were in some measure calmed, Heissenheimer
commenced his explanations.
“You have much to thank me for, young man! Till yesterday I was as
much deceived as yourself, and was only let behind the scenes after my
discovery. I would have you know, all was truth I told you about my
hearing the music, and so forth; except that I surprised, not the maid
Caroline, but our sweet friend Nina, while her father was accompanying
her in the song you heard a few moments since. There was no escape;
both were brought to confession, and having them in my power, I
stipulated that you should be kept no longer in suspense, else I know
not how many fiery trials awaited you.”
“It was my father’s will, not mine!” cried Nina; “if you only knew how
hard it was for me to play such a part!”
Louis answered by an expressive look; and Ricco said, deprecatingly,
“My art--my child--my all, was at stake! We are told to be wise as the
serpent.”
“But if the issue had not been fortunate?” said the young man.
“Nothing venture--nothing win!” replied the Italian. “We all risked
something. Let us rejoice that it has ended so happily.”
“Only the poor village musician,” said Heissenheimer, “has reason to
complain, that I sent him out of the world so sentimentally, without
asking his leave! Doubtless he would not be much obliged to me--for
to-day is his birth-day, and his daughter Caroline is gone to pay him a
visit. But what think you, fair lady, of our friend as a physiognomist?
Here he has been finding out that your features were inexpressive--and
those of Caroline very interesting!”
“Do not make sport of me!” cried Louis, “you were as much in the dark
till yesterday as myself.”
“Well!” said the old merchant--“at least I shall claim a kiss for my
reward as _postillon d’amour_!”
“Come,” interrupted the chapel-master; “let us adjourn to the little
back room, where we may find something to eat!” They went, Nina leading
the way, leaning on the arm of her lover. The “little back room” was a
private cabinet, the window of which opened on a small garden in the
rear of the house. Here was an excellent instrument, by which Ricco
was accustomed to compose, and his daughter to sing. A large book-case
contained, in rich binding, the works of celebrated composers of the
old Italian school, down to the latest. There was Palestrina, Lulli,
&c., and also Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. Portraits of the great
masters hung round the walls; the bust of MOZART stood on the book-case.
Louis believed himself in a sanctuary! The fair priestess stood by
his side, and smiled upon him. Her usual frank and lively manner was
exchanged for something of timidity and reserve; but love beamed in
her eyes, and kindly regard was expressed in the looks of all present.
Heissenheimer was the first to recover his vivacity; and he brought
them back to this world by protesting that he was inordinately hungry
and thirsty. He should prefer a flask of good Johannisberger to all the
dews of Castaly! And they would not forget to drink the health of all
the divinities of love and music; yea, the present company included,
besides the poor village musician and his daughter Caroline, who
certainly ought to have a share in their good wishes!
FOOTNOTES:
[15] The incidents and criticism of this tale are taken from a novelle
of Ludwig Rellstab, entitled “_Julius_.”
THE END.
Transcriber’s Notes
Punctuation errors and omissions have been fixed.
Page 36: “grasping th arm” changed to “grasping the arm”
Page 39: “village of Rohran” changed to “village of Rohrau”
Page 52: “the overs” changed to “the lovers”
Page 53: “has ome into” changed to “has come into”
Page 58: “and violincello” changed to “and violoncello”
Page 68: “reccollect the name” changed to “recollect the name”
Page 92: “the condemation” changed to “the condemnation”
Page 158: “famous violincellist” changed to “famous violoncellist”
Page 167: “piece inpromptu” changed to “piece impromptu”
Page 207: “in the affirmitive” changed to “in the affirmative”
Page 228: “loved for this” changed to “lived for this”
Page 281: “Concert Fantastque” changed to “Concert Fantastique”
Page 299 & Page 303: “Posto Abandanato” changed to “Posto Abbandanato”
Page 310: “noble fellew” changed to “noble fellow”
Page 311 & Page 312: “La Somnambula” changed to “La Sonnambula”
Page 351: “not the maid Caroline, by our sweet friend” changed to “not
the maid Caroline, but our sweet friend”