problem was, after all, not of such intense interest to him, not such a
question of Either--Or, of an immediate To Be or Not To Be, as it was
in the case of the girl. For Vreni could feel just then only that one
problem, saw in it with passionate energy life or death itself. But now
at last he began to see clearly into the very soul of his companion,
and the feminine desire in her became instantly with him a wild and
ardent longing, and his senses reeled under its potency. And while he
had previously caressed and embraced her with the strength and fervor
of a devoted lover, he did so now with an incomparably greater
abandonment to his passion. He held Vreni tightly to his beating heart,
and fairly overwhelmed her with endearments. In spite of her own love
fever, the girl with true feminine instinct at once became aware of
this change, and she began to tremble as with fear of the unknown. But
this feeling passed almost in a moment, and before even the cloud had
flitted over the moon's face her whole being was seized by the
whirlwind of his ardor, and engulfed in its depths. While both
struggled with and at the same time fondled the other, their beringed
hands met and seized the other as though at that supreme moment their
union was consummated without the consent of their will power. Sali's
heart knocked against its prison door like a living being; anon it
stood still, and he breathed with difficulty and said slow and in a
whisper: "There is one thing, only one thing, we can do, Vreni; we keep
our wedding this hour, and then we leave this world forever--there
below is the deep water--there is everlasting peace and fulfilment of
all our hopes--there nobody will divorce us again--and we have had our
dearest wish--have lived and died together--whether for long, whether
for short--we need not care--we are rid of all care--"
And Vreni instantly responded. "Yes, Sali--what you say I also have
thought to myself--not once but constantly these days--I have dreamed
of it with my whole soul--we can die together, and then all this
torment is over--Swear to me, Sali, that you will do it with me!"
"Yes, dearest, it is as good as done--nobody shall take you from me now
but Death alone!" Thus the young man in his exaltation. But Vreni's
breath came quick and as if freed from an intolerable burden. Tears of
sweetest joy came to her eyes, and she rose with spontaneous alacrity
and, light as a bird, flew down towards the river side. Sali followed
her, thinking for a moment she wanted to escape him, while she fancied
he would wish to prevent her. Thus they both sprang down the steep
path, and Vreni laughed happily like a child that will not allow her
playmate to catch her.
"Are you sorry for it already?" Thus they both apostrophized the other,
as they in a twinkling had reached the river shore and seized hold of
each other. And both answered: "No, indeed, how can you think so?"
And carefree they now walked briskly along the river bank, and they
outdistanced the hastening waves, for thus keenly they sought a spot
where they could stay for a while. For in the trance of their
enthusiasm they knew of nothing but the bliss awaiting them in the full
possession of each other. The whole worth and meaning of their lives
just then condensed itself into that one supreme desire. What was to
follow it, death, eternal oblivion, was to them a mere nothing, a puff
of air, and they thought less of it than does the spendthrift think of
the morrow when wasting his last substance.
"My flowers shall precede me," cried Vreni, "only look! They are quite
withered and dusty!" And she plucked them from her bosom, cast them
into the water, and sang aloud: "But sweeter far than almonds is my
love for thee!"
"Stop!" called out Sali. "Here is our bridal chamber!"
They had reached a road for vehicles which led from the village to the
river, and here there was a landing, and a big boat, laden high with
hay, was tied to an iron ring in the bank. In a reckless mood Sali
instantly set to freeing the ship from the strong ropes that held it to
the landing. But Vreni grasped his arm, and she shouted laughing: "What
are you about? Are we to wind up by stealing from the peasants their
haycock?"
"That is to be the dowry they give us," replied Sali with humor. "See!
A swimming bedstead and a couch softer than any royal couple ever had.
Besides, they will recover their property unharmed somewhere near the
goal whither it was to travel anyway, and they will hardly trouble
their hard heads with the question how it got there. Do you notice,
dear, how the boat is swaying and rocking? It is impatient to start on
the journey."
The ship lay a few paces off the shore in deeper water. Sali lifted
Vreni in his arms high up, and began to wade through the water towards
the boat. But she caressed him so fervently and wriggled like a fish on
the angle, that Sali was losing his footing in the rather strong
current. She strained her hands and arms in order to plunge them in the
water, crying: "I also want to try the cool water. Do you remember how
cold and moist our hands were when we first met? That time we had been
catching fish. Now we ourselves will be fish, and two big and handsome
ones to boot."
"Keep still, you wriggling darling," said Sali, scarcely able to stand
up in the water, with his sweetheart tossing in his arms and the
current pulling at him, "or it will drag me under!"
But now he lifted his pretty burden into the boat, and scrambled up its
side himself. Then he hoisted her up to the hay, packed in orderly
fashion in the middle, sweet-scented and downy like a vast pillow, and
next he swung himself up to her. When they both were thus enthroned on
their bridal bed the ship drifted gently into the middle of the stream,
and then, turning slowly, it headed sluggishly in an easterly
direction.
The river flowed through dark woods, shadowing it; it flowed through
the fruitful plain, past quiet villages and hamlets and single
homesteads; there it broadened out like a still lake and the ship moved
but slightly downwards, and here it turned tall rocks and left the
slumbering landscape quickly behind. And when dawn broke there was in
sight at some distance a town rising with its age-worn towers and
steeples above the silver-gray river. The setting moon, red as gold,
cast a quivering track of light upstream towards the dim outlines of
the ancient city, and into this luminous bed the ship finally turned
its prow. When the houses of the town at last approached closely two
pale shapes, locked in a tight embrace, glided in the autumnal frost of
early morn from off the dark mass of the ship into the silent waters.
The ship itself shortly after fetched up near a bridge, unharmed, and
remained there. When sometime later the two bodies, still locked in
each others' arms, were found, and details about the young man and his
sweetheart were learned, one might have read in the newspapers that
these two, the children of two ruined and impoverished families that
had lived in bitter enmity, had sought death in the water together
after dancing with great animation at a kermess. This event probably
was connected with the other fact that a boat laden with hay had landed
in town without anyone on board. It was supposed that the young couple
had cut loose the boat somewhere in order to hold their godforsaken
wedding on it. "Once again a proof of the spread of lawless and impious
passion among the lower classes." That was the concluding paragraph in
the newspaper report.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 1: Vreni, Vreneli, Vreeli; Swiss diminutive forms of
Veronica.]
THE END