As Giraldi moved with restless steps up and down the deserted rooms of
the castle, there was added to the grey spectres of fear and anxiety
which lurked around and followed him, another, that as the twilight
deepened grew and grew, and seemed to come nearer and nearer with every
movement of the minute-hand of the watch that he never put down. Not
merely seemed. He could see it advancing from the windows which looked
towards the sea, from the roof of the round tower to which he had made
the old servant show him the way; he could see the tide advancing like
storming columns which, step by step, slowly but irresistibly, gained
ground, following up the skirmishers, which as soon as the main body
reached them were swallowed up in it. Over there, where an hour ago he
had seen a narrow line of water running through the lower ground--it
was the brook, the old servant said--the foaming waves of a broad gulf
were now tossing; there, straight before him, where, to right and left
of the little farmyard, he had seen half an hour before dark masses of
water in the hollows which he had at first taken for large ponds, was a
great lake out of which the farm appeared like a little island. And ten
minutes later the foaming lake had joined the gulf, and if this went on
for another half hour we should have the flood up here, and not a mouse
could creep out of house or courtyard--so said Herr Damberg.
This was said in the courtyard itself. Giraldi had seen the farmer
there from the window of the dining-room, and had gone out to question
the man.
"For you see," said Herr Damberg, "there is rising ground certainly
between us and Pölitz's farm, which reaches from the Golmberg almost up
to the brook right across the hollow; but behind it--towards us--the
ground sinks again pretty rapidly, to the height opposite where the
village stands, and between which and us again is the lowest part of
all. If the flood rises above that higher ground which has checked it
as yet the hollow will be filled to the brim like a basin; and I shall
think myself lucky if it does not get into my stables and barns,
particularly those on the park side, for that will go too. It is very
fortunate that the ladies are away; what could they do here? I told
Frau von Wallbach too that she had better go up to the village, but she
won't. My goodness! there goes another roof!"
The farmer rushed off to the endangered building, from whose thatched
roof the gale had torn off whole bales of straw and whirled them like
chaff over the courtyard. The terrified farm-servants came running up
from all sides, while the farmer grumbled that they had better keep
their wits about them now; what was to happen later if they had lost
their senses already?
Giraldi looked at his watch, it wanted twenty minutes to six. François,
who had returned half an hour before, had sworn that he was convinced
that madame would start immediately after him. The road was not so bad
as he had thought; they might very well be at the castle at six
o'clock.
Giraldi went into the house to question François once more. François
was not to be found; some one had seen him a short time before go
through the garden-door towards the park, with a cloak round him.
"The fellow is prudent," said Giraldi to himself; "he has got his money
and takes himself off. I am in the same position, I ought to follow his
wise example."
He must come to a decision; if Valerie came too late, or not at all, he
would find himself in about half an hour face to face with the General,
who must have heard this morning at any rate--perhaps from Ottomar
himself--of the affair of the bills, and, his suspicions once aroused,
would certainly make inquiries, and learn from the banker, to whom he
would of course apply first, that the Warnow money had been withdrawn,
from the bank. Elsa's telegram too! All these things coming together
would rouse the most sluggish of men, how much more one so active and
energetic! And yet everything was not lost, everything might still be
won, was won already, if Valerie were on his side; the half million of
mortgage money, which he had withdrawn from Lübbener's yesterday,
belonged to her by rights; and for himself, without overstepping by one
hair's breadth the powers given him by the other trustees, he could
withdraw the half million of purchase-money from Haselow, and keep it
in his desk, or carry it on his person if he did not think it secure
elsewhere; but Valerie must give her consent--she must, she must, she
must!
He cried it aloud, stamping his foot on the wet ground, while in the
branches of the trees overhead the wind whistled and howled, and louder
and louder grew the roar of the sea breaking against the barrier which
it only needed to surmount to fill the hollow like a basin. Even the
park would be swept away then.
He hardly knew why he had entered the park; perhaps to look for
François, perhaps because he had been told that from the balcony of the
summer-house in the south corner a long stretch of the road to Wissow
over the hills could be seen. If indeed in the darkness, which seemed
deepening at every moment, anything could be seen at a distance! And
where was this south corner? As if between the brambles of these
rustling hedges, and in the gloom of these creaking boughs, a man could
find his way as one would between the laurel bushes and the pines of
the Monte Pincio!
In this howling northern wilderness the image of the Eternal City stood
suddenly before his mind, as he had seen it that night when, for the
first time after years of separation, he saw Valerie again--by no
effort of his, against all expectation or hope--at a fête given by the
French Embassy in the enchanted gardens of the Villa Medici. There,
when a jealous husband had carried away his beautiful wife only too
soon, he himself had left the festive crowd, and ascended the stone
steps in the shade of the evergreen oaks till the lights of the
festival below him had been lost and the sounds had died away; there,
in the darkness and silence which surrounded him, he had mused as he
went yet farther and higher, and reached the Belvedere, where his
beloved Rome, bathed in moonshine, lay at his feet; there he had sworn
by St. Peter's, on whose gigantic dome streams of soft golden light
were pouring down from the blue heavens, that the love of this fair
northern woman should be the golden stepping-stone to his power, which
he, the layman, in the service of St. Peter's, and yet free--free as an
eagle here above the world--would extend over the whole earth. It had
taken him longer than he had then hoped--much too long; he had held
fast to his once formed plans with too obstinate tenacity; he might
have attained more brilliant results, quicker and more surely, by other
ways such as had a thousand times offered themselves; but it was the
star of his fate which he had followed, in which he had always trusted,
and would trust still when--at the last moment--everything seemed to
conspire against him to snatch his prey from him, the fruit of the
arduous labour of so many years, the noble fortune which he carried
about him close to his body, as if it were a part of himself, as it was
indeed a part of his life which he would give up only with that life.
He looked at his watch--he could no longer distinguish the numbers on
the dial-plate; he sounded the repeater--he could not hear the faint
stroke through the roaring of the storm which crashed and howled around
him. He would count five minutes more; if she did not come then--so be
it!
And there was the summer-house for which he had been looking so long, a
wooden erection on four slender columns, to which a narrow steep
staircase led up, at the extreme edge of the park, some ten or twelve
feet above the enclosing hedge, high enough as he could see from the
balcony to overlook the ground outside between the park and the hill; a
long trough-shaped bit of ground, some fifty or a hundred yards broad,
through which, from the hill to the park, a dark winding causeway led,
formed apparently of large stones arranged at even distances to
facilitate the crossing of the low-lying meadow-land.
He examined the position narrowly. In the meadow-land below he could
see larger and smaller pools of what must be water already accumulated
there; but the stone pathway was decidedly passable. In the comparative
lightness of his post of observation he could see his watch now; it
wanted ten minutes to six, and there was not a moment to be lost. He
would go back through the park to the castle and find out if Valerie
had arrived, or perhaps the General. Then, if necessary, back through
the park over the causeway to the village; he would hunt up a carriage
of some sort, and then--to the devil with this miserable country of
barbarians, he would leave it for ever!
He glanced once again over the hills without, along whose edge he ought
to have seen the carriage coming. Folly! who could have distinguished
anything there now, when over all a dark veil had spread itself which
was growing more dense at every moment! Even the stepping-stones in the
meadow were hardly visible, he should have trouble in finding them; the
dark line waved up and down, the stones seemed in movement. Something
was really moving there--that was not the stones. There were people
there--women--two--coming across the stones--she, no doubt, with that
detested girl--no matter! she was coming, obedient as ever! to tell him
that she would obey him in future as she had always obeyed him! What
else should she come for? For fear of him? For love of her newly-found
son? no matter!--no matter!--she was coming!
He would not need now to steal away like a thief with the stolen
treasure; he might lift his head proudly, he who always and everywhere
was master of the position which his ruling spirit had created. He
rushed down the steep steps, through the beech avenue, where it was
almost completely dark, to the little door which he had noticed before
at the entrance to the avenue, and at which he supposed the causeway
must end. And at the moment when with a powerful effort he shook the
locked or warped door from its rusty hinges, they stood without.
Valerie started back with a shudder, as she so suddenly saw before her
the terrible man, who seemed to belong to the darkness and the raging
elements. But he had already caught her hand and drawn her into the
path, while Elsa, at her aunt's entreating "Let me be alone with him!"
unwillingly obeyed her, and remained standing at the shattered door,
following with her keen eyes their retreating figures through the dark
pathway, ready and determined to hasten to the poor woman's assistance;
straining her ear through the rustling and crackling of the bushes, and
the roaring and creaking of the trees, and the raging and howling all
round her, for any cry for help.
She stood there gazing, listening--for some fearful minutes, of which
she could have counted each second by the beating of her heart. Now she
could see them both walking quickly up and down at the lower end of the
path; she thought she could catch a few broken words in Italian--an
entreating "_Il nostro figlio_" from him--a passionate "_Giammai!
giammai!_" from her. Then again the wild raving of the storm and the
tide drowned every sound; the figures vanished into the darkness. She
could bear her anxiety no longer, she hurried down the path--past
something that glided by her--past him, the traitor! the murderer!
She shrieked it aloud, "Traitor! murderer!" The wild scream sounded
no louder than an infant's cry. She rushed down the path to the
summer-house, crying: "Aunt! aunt!" though she expected to find nothing
but a dead body. There--at the foot of the stairs--was her aunt, her
dear aunt!
She crouched on the lower steps of the staircase, and lifted upon her
knees the fallen form, from whose icy forehead a warm stream trickled.
But she still lived! she had attempted to press with her slender
fingers the hand which had grasped hers; and now, now! thank heaven!
there came a few low words, which Elsa, bending low over her, tried to
catch.
"Do not be alarmed! It is nothing--a fall against the railing as he
flung me from him; free--Elsa, free!--free!"
Her head sank again on Elsa's bosom, but her heart still beat; it was
only a swoon, the result of the terror and loss of blood; she tried to
rise and sank back again.
Elsa did not lose her courage; as she bound up the wounded forehead
with her own and her aunt's handkerchief and a strip torn from her
dress--she had had plenty of practice in the hospitals during the
war--she considered whether she should try to carry the slender figure
to the castle, or whether it would be better to hasten home alone and
procure assistance. She would lose a great deal of time either way; but
in the first case she would remain with the sufferer, and need not
leave her alone in this terrible situation, without, perhaps, being
able to make her understand that it was necessary to leave her.
Still she decided upon the second alternative as the safer. The bandage
was arranged; she was just about to raise her aunt gently from her lap
and arrange her as comfortable a couch as possible, when through the
bushes, through the hedges, between the trees, there came upon her what
seemed like thousands and thousands of serpents, whose hissing sounded
even through the howling of the storm, with a strange and horrible
noise that made Elsa's blood run chill. For a moment she listened
breathlessly, and then with a wild shriek started to her feet,
snatching up her aunt, and with the strength of despair dragging her up
the steps to save the helpless woman and herself from the flood which
had broken over the park. She had hardly reached the last step before
the water was pouring through the lower ones, and seeming to be
everywhere at once, foaming and roaring through the hedge which ran
from the summer-house to the castle, as if over a weir, rushing into
the hollow, which was no longer a valley but the bed of a broad stream
whose waters, pouring in from either side, met with a crash like
thunder, throwing up jets of water to the balcony, over the edge of
which Elsa leant with a shudder.
A bench ran round the inner side of the balcony. Elsa laid her aunt
here, who was falling from one fainting fit into another, after
wrapping her up as warmly as possible, for the greater part with her
own clothes.
And there she sat, with the poor thing's head again in her lap, as the
storm howled and the flood roared around her, and shook the frail
slender wooden edifice in every joint of its worm-eaten planks, praying
that God would send some one to them--the only man who could save them
in their fearful need.