CHAPTER IX.

"It is half-past four," said Elsa, "we must go."

"You might remain here."

"I am not sure whether my father will have arrived yet; indeed,

supposing he came by the midday train, he could not be at Warnow yet;

but that terrible man is certainly there, expecting you, and perhaps

may go away again without waiting for you---"

"I must speak to him," murmured Valerie.

"And you must not speak to him alone; I will not allow it; and so we

must go."

"Without taking with us any comfort for you, my poor child!"

"I am comforted, I am quite calm; you can surely perceive that by my

voice and manner." And Elsa bent down and kissed her aunt's pale lips.

They were sitting at the window of Reinhold's study, on the right hand

as you entered the one-storied house, which was imposing compared with

its neighbours, which were still smaller.

Elsa had entered almost all of them; the houses of the two chief

pilots, and some of those amongst which the four and twenty other

pilots were distributed; that of the chief revenue officer, who shared

his house with his subordinate; and she would have gone into the other

pilots' houses and the fishermen's huts, of which there might be

perhaps a dozen, only that it was not necessary, as the people were all

standing at their doors wherever she passed, and stretching out their

hands to her--the rough, hairy hands of two or three invalided old

sailors who crept out from the warm chimney-corners; powerful sunburnt

hands from strong, sunburnt women; hard little hands from ruddy,

flaxen-haired children, who looked up curiously with their blue eyes to

the beautiful strange lady, and could not believe what their mothers

told them, that she was no princess, but the Captain's betrothed, who

was coming to live here always, and was so pleased with everything! And

the Captain would come back, the women all said, though the storm was

very high--the worst that Clas Rickmann remembered, and he was

ninety-two years old, and so might be allowed to know something about

it! The Captain knew what he was about, and he had got six men with him

who knew what they were about; and last time they had been out three

times in the new lifeboat without being upset once, and it was not

likely to upset now, especially when his own sweetheart had come here

to receive him when he returned.

So spoke all the women, in almost identical words, as if they had

settled them together beforehand; and then they all had something

pleasant to say about the Captain, who was even better than the last

Superintendent, though he had been a good man too; and here again they

all said pretty nearly the same thing, almost in the same words, with

the same hearty expression and the same monotonous voices; but Elsa

could have willingly heard it all repeated a thousand times, and

thanked each one separately as if she heard it for the first time, and

as if it were an announcement from heaven.

And then quite a crowd of women and girls accompanied her, with a still

greater crowd of children running beside and after them, to the spot

nearly at the end of the peninsula, where, on a high dune, signal-posts

and beacons were erected, and behind the dune which still afforded some

shelter--stood a close group of men in high sea-boots and sou'westers,

looking out over the raging sea, who, as the young lady came up to

them, pulled off their hats, while Clas Janssen, as the eldest, took

upon himself to be spokesman, and to tell the young lady all about it;

and all bent their heads eagerly to listen, and nodded, and when they

turned away to spit, took great care to do it to leeward.

Then Clas Janssen related that this morning, as soon as it was light, a

vessel, which was now at anchor round there in the bay, had come in and

brought word that close to the Grünwald Oie a ship had run aground, and

was flying signals of distress. There was so much surf at the spot,

that only the mast was altogether visible, and the stern occasionally,

and they had seen men clinging to the yards. The vessel--a small Dutch

schooner--seemed well built, and might hold out for another hour or

two, as it was on smooth sand, if only the heavy sea did not wash off

the crew. From the Oie no one could get at them; an ordinary boat would

be swamped at once by the waves. Half an hour later the lifeboat had

been launched, with the Captain on board, and for three hours they had

kept it in sight, as it worked against the wind, and had seen it at

last in the surf near the Oie; but the sea was too high there, and the

weather very thick, and so they had lost sight of it, even from the

look-out above, and with the most powerful glass, and could not tell

whether the Captain had got on board; anyway, it must be a tough job,

as it had taken him so long; but the Captain would be sure to pull

through. And now if the young lady would go in and let Frau Rickmann

make her a cup of tea, they would bring her word when the boat came in

sight; and as for their coming back again, she might make herself quite

easy--the Captain knew what he was about, and the six men who were with

him knew what they were about.

Elsa had smiled, not because the man had repeated again in the same

words what the women had said to her, but because this confirmation

from the mouth of an experienced man brought sweet peace to her heart;

and she had shaken the man's rough hand and the hands of the other men,

and had gone back to the houses with her escort of women and children;

and while she talked to them--the storm blowing away half their

words--she had always repeated to herself, "He knows what he is about,

and the six men who are with him know what they are about!" half as a

prayer which she durst not utter with her lips, half as a song of joy

which she was ashamed to sing aloud.

Then she had gone to his house, which was soon to be hers; had drunk

tea with her aunt, and had made her lie down to rest--for she was quite

exhausted--in a small room, where as little as possible might be heard

of the storm, and with a beating heart, like a child whose mother is

leading it to the Christmas-tree, had gone over the whole house with

Frau Rickmann, old Clas Rickmann's elderly granddaughter, the childless

widow of a pilot, who managed Reinhold's house for him. It was a modest

house, and modestly furnished; but she admired everything, as if she

had been wandering through an enchanted palace. And how clean and tidy

everything was! And how tasteful, when Frau Rickmann's province of

kitchen and store-rooms was passed, and that of the Captain himself

began! The furniture, as if she herself had been consulted in the

choice of every article; the large writing-table, covered with books

and carefully-arranged papers and pamphlets; and the handsome bookcase,

with glass-doors, full of well-bound books, another case of mysterious

nautical instruments, and a third with splendid shells, corals, and

stuffed birds! Then Frau Rickmann opened the door of a little room

which adjoined the study, and Elsa nearly exclaimed aloud: it was her

own little room next to the drawing-room--the same carpet, the same

blue rep covering to the sofa, the same chairs, the same corner

looking-glass with a gilt console! And it had only one window too; and

in the window was a small arm-chair, and in front of the chair a little

work-table--all perfectly charming! And Elsa had to sit down in the

chair because her knees shook under her, and to lean her head on the

little table and shed a few joyful tears, and kiss the table for love

of the man whose tender care seemed enfolding her here like a mantle,

and who was now tossing about on the stormy sea which she could see

from the window, and risking his precious life for the lives of others!

Meanwhile four o'clock had struck--although it was already so dark that

it might have been six--and Frau Rickmann gave it as her opinion that

it was high time to see about the Captain's dinner, if the ladies

really would have nothing but tea and cakes. She said it as quietly as

if the Captain were only rather late in returning from a quiet row on

smooth water, though the storm at that moment was raging more wildly

than ever, and the little house was shaken to its foundations.

Aunt Valerie, who could not sleep, came out of her room in terror, to

be assured by Frau Rickmann that there was no cause for alarm, as the

house would stand a good shaking, and Wissow Head sheltered them from

the worst; and as for the flood, they stood like the other houses,

fifty feet above high-water mark, and they might wait some time before

the tide came up there!

Therewith Frau Rickmann went into the kitchen, after again ushering the

ladies into the Captain's study; and here they now sat at the window,

which also looked out to sea, each trying to turn her thoughts to that

of which she knew the other's heart was full, from time to time

exchanging a loving word or a pressure of the hand, till Elsa, noticing

the growing uneasiness on her aunt's pale face, pressed for an

immediate departure, if only on the ground that the darkness was

gathering rapidly, and they could not possibly take the perilous

journey back by night.

Frau Rickmann came in with her honest face glowing from the kitchen

fire, and took her modest part in the deliberations. The ladies might

as well wait another hour; it would not get darker now before sunset,

and the Captain must come in now soon, if her dinner was not to be done

to rags.

And Frau Rickmann had hardly spoken, when a finger knocked at the

window, and a rough voice outside called: "Boat in sight!"

And then, it was in a bewildering, delicious dream, that Elsa ran down

to the beach beside a man in high sea-boots and a curious-looking hat,

who, as they ran, told her a long story of which she understood not a

word, and she reached the place where she had gone on her arrival under

the shelter of the dunes, and then went up on to the dune, where the

beacon was now glimmering through the evening mist, amongst a number of

other men in high waterproof boots and odd hats, who pointed to the sea

and then spoke to her, without her again understanding a single word,

and one of whom hung a great pea-jacket over her shoulders and fastened

it securely, without her asking him for it or even thanking him. Then

suddenly she saw the boat, which she had been looking for persistently,

heaven knows where in the misty air, quite close to her; and then she

was in another place where the beach was flat and the surf did not roar

so fearfully, and she saw the boat again, which seemed now twice as big

as it had been before, and the whole keel was lifted out of the white

foam and sunk again, and rose a second time, while some dozens of the

men ran into the foam which closed over their heads in spray. And a man

came up through the ebbing waves, in high boots and just such another

odd hat, and she gave a cry of joy and rushed towards him and threw her

arms round him, and he lifted her up and carried her a little way, till

she could set her feet again upon the sand; and whether he carried her

again, or whether they flew, or walked on side by side, she never knew,

and only saw him really when he had changed his clothes and was sitting

at his dinner-table, while she poured him out glass after glass of

wine, and her aunt sat by smiling, and Frau Rickmann went in and out

and brought in mutton chops with steaming-hot potatoes, and ham and

eggs, and he, though he never turned his eyes from her, ate everything

with the hunger of a man who had not tasted food since seven o'clock

that morning. There had been no time for that; it had been a nasty bit

of work getting to the stranded vessel, and still worse to take off the

poor men through the surf; but it had been successful; they were all

saved, the whole eight of them. They had to be put ashore at Grünwald

then, which was another difficult job, and had kept them a long time;

but it could not be helped, the poor fellows who had been clinging to

the rigging all night were in such a deplorable condition, but they

would be all right now.

Intoxicated with the bliss of that flower of happiness which they had

plucked from the edge of the abyss, they remarked now for the first

time that Aunt Valerie had left them. Elsa, who had no secrets from her

Reinhold, explained to him in a few words the poor thing's position,

and that they had not now a moment to lose in starting on their

disagreeable journey homewards.

"Not a moment!" cried Reinhold, rising; "I will give the necessary

orders at once."

"They have already been given," said Valerie, who had heard the last

words as she entered; "the carriage is at the door."

The noise of the wheels had been inaudible in the deep sand to the

happy lovers, as had been also the approach of the rider, whom Aunt

Valerie had seen from the window, and to receive whom she had left the

room.

He was there; he ordered her to come! She knew it before she opened the

letter which François handed to her. She had read the letter--in the

little room to the left, standing at the open window, while François

stood outside--and then the enclosure; and as she read the letter she

had laughed aloud, and torn the paper into fragments, and thrown the

fragments scornfully from the window, out into the storm which in a

moment whirled them away.

"Madame laughs," said François, speaking French as he always did when

he wished to be impressive; "but I can assure madame that it is no

laughing matter, and that if madame is not back at the castle before

six o'clock, something terrible will happen."

"I will come."

François bowed, swung himself into the saddle again, and--to the

breathless astonishment of the village children who had been attracted

by the unusual spectacle of a horseman--set spurs to his horse, and,

with his head bowed almost to the saddle, dashed off, while Valerie

begged Frau Rickmann to send for the carriage which had been put into

the head pilot's barn up in the village, and then with a heavy heart

went to separate the happy pair. But if she made up her mind to a last

meeting with her dreaded, hated tyrant, it was only for the sake of

those she loved, and for whom in the threatening catastrophe she would

save whatever might still be possible to save! It would not be

much--she knew his rapacity--but enough perhaps to secure her Elsa's

future, to free poor Ottomar from his difficulties. And she smiled as

she thought that even Elsa could believe she was thinking of herself in

this matter, of her future!--Good God!

Elsa was ready at once, and Reinhold would not detain her by word or

look. He would have dearly liked to go with her, but that was not to be

thought of. He must not leave his post now for a single hour; at any

moment duty might call upon him again.

And before Elsa had got her cloak on a pilot came in to bring news of

the boat which had gone out at two o'clock after the steamer that had

been signalled from Wissow Head, asking for a pilot. They had got out

to sea in ten minutes and round the Head in half an hour; but the

steamer was no longer there, and must meanwhile have doubled the

Golmberg and got out to sea, as they had seen for themselves when they

had passed the Golmberg. On their way back--about half-past four--they

had been alarmed at seeing so much surf on the dunes between the Head

and the Golmberg, and had kept inshore as much as possible, to make out

if the sea had broken through there as the Captain had foretold. They

could not make quite certain at first, just on account of the heavy

sea; but when they went in closer still, so as to be sure, Clas

Lachmund first, and then all the rest too, had seen two people on the

White Dune, one of whom looked like a woman and had not moved, but the

other--a man--had made signs to them. They could not reach them,

however, try as they would, and might think themselves lucky that they

got off again even, for they had run aground close by the White Dune,

and had seen then for certain that the sea had broken in--north and

south of the White Dune, and probably at other points too--for they

could see nothing but water far inland. How far they could not say; the

weather was too hazy. They must be in a bad way at Ahlbeck too; but

they had not gone nearer in there, for the people there, with Wissow

Head hard by, could be in no danger of losing their lives; but the two

people on the White Dune would be in a very bad case if they could not

be brought off before night.

"Who can the unfortunate people be?" asked Valerie.

"Shipwrecked folk; what else could they be!" answered Reinhold.

"Good-bye, my Reinhold," said Elsa; and then clinging to him, half

laughing, half crying: "Take six more men with you who know what they

are about!"

"And you will pledge me your word," said Reinhold, "that the carriage

shall not drive down from the village to the castle, if from the height

above you cannot see the road absolutely clear through the hollow!"

The two ladies were gone, and Reinhold got ready for his second

expedition. It was not exactly his duty, any more than the morning's

work had been; only none of the men--not even the best of them--quite

knew how to handle the new lifeboat.

Those two people on the dune, however--he had not liked to say so to

Elsa--but they could not be shipwrecked people, for any vessel that had

gone ashore there would have been signalled long ago from Wissow Head.

They could not well be from Pölitz's farm either, though that was close

by, for Frau Rickmann had told him when he went to change his clothes,

that Pölitz had sent back word by the messenger he had despatched to

him, that he would send little Ernst and his men with the live stock to

Warnow; but he could not go away himself, neither could Marie, and

still less his wife, who had been confined last night, of a boy. Things

could not be so bad with them either.

But things were serious now--very serious--and even if the head pilot

Bonsak had a little exaggerated, as he did sometimes in similar cases,

there was danger any way; danger for poor Frau Pölitz, who was

kept to the house by the most sacred of duties; greater danger still

for the two of whom he asked to know nothing but that they were

fellow-creatures who without him must perish.

The Breaking of the Storm, Vol. III. · 第 9 / 15 章