The setting sun no longer stood high above the hills. In the magic glow
were shining the calm pools of water which covered the immense
semicircle between the Golmberg and Wissow Head. The slanting golden
rays shone dazzlingly in Reinhold's eyes, as he steered his boat from
the lake into the broad gulf close by the White Dune, against whose
steep sides the long incoming waves were washing, while the boat glided
over its broad surface, and the blades of the oars as they rose and
sank in regular cadence almost touched the edge.
The eyes of the rowers were turned towards the dune as they glided by,
while the scene of deliverance on the night of the storm must have
recurred to every man's memory, but no one spoke a word. Not because it
would have been a breach of discipline. They knew that the Captain
would always allow talk that was to the purpose at the right time, even
when as to-day he was in full uniform, with the Iron Cross on his broad
breast; but he had pulled his cocked hat low down upon his forehead,
and if he occasionally raised his eyes to see the course he was
steering, they did not look gloomy--they had never seen him look gloomy
yet, any more than they had ever heard a bad word from his mouth--but
very grave and sad. They would not disturb the Captain's meditations.
Grave and sad meditations--graver and sadder than the honest fellows
could imagine or comprehend.
What to them were the two people whom they had rescued from death on
this sand-hill, with untold efforts and at the repeated risk of their
own lives; what were they to them but a couple more fellow-creatures,
saved as a matter of duty, and added to the others whom they had
already saved that day? As to how Count Golm and the young lady had got
there, and the relation in which they stood to each other--what did
they care about that? But he!
He had shuddered when he found the brilliant Carla von Wallbach, whom
he had seen a few days before flirting and coquetting in the light of
the chandeliers, in the drawing-room at Warnow--now cowering on the
storm-beaten dune, a picture of utter misery, her clothes soaked
through with wet, her tender limbs shaken by icy cold, half out of her
senses with terror, and hardly resembling a human creature; as he
carried her to the boat, and at the moment when he laid her down, she
woke from her stupor, and recognising him, shrieked wildly: "Save me
from him! Save me!" and clung terrified to him--a stranger--as a child
might cling to his mother, so that he had to use force to free himself!
The Count was in a hardly less pitiable condition, when two of the men
carried him into the boat and laid him down near Carla; but then he
suddenly started up, and at the risk of falling overboard staggered to
the bow of the boat, and there sat lost in gloomy meditation, taking no
notice of anything that passed, till they had worked their way to the
Pölitz's farm, and prepared to take the poor wretches there into the
boat through the window of the attic in which they had taken refuge.
Then he had sprung to his feet, and shrieked like a madman that he
would not be packed in together with those people! he would not! and
had laid violent hands on the men, till he was cowed by the threat that
they would tie his hands if he did not implicitly obey the Captain's
orders; and then, covering his face with his hands, he had devoured his
wrath in silence.
There was the attic, there was the window opening--they had been
obliged to tear out the window and knock down a bit of the wall to make
room. It seemed to Reinhold himself almost a miracle that he had been
successful, that he had been able to save the poor creatures from this
abyss of misery, and carry the most fragile human blossom through night
and storm and darkness to the safe harbour of the castle where all
danger was over.
The passage from the submerged farm to the castle had only lasted a few
minutes--the gale had driven the boat before it like a feather--but
this was the only time when even his heart had trembled, not with fear,
but with tender care. His eyes grew wet as he recalled the memory now
of the mother as she lay in the boat, her little one in her bosom, her
head on her husband's knee, while poor Marie, full of compassion,
supported in her arms the senseless Carla. What would the wretched man
in the bow of the boat have thought of this sight if he ever raised his
eyes? When they laid the boat alongside the back entrance of the
castle, he sprang out and rushed away in furious haste, to hide himself
anywhere in the darkness--like Cain fleeing from the body of his
murdered brother.
And sadder and sadder grew Reinhold's thoughts. He had succeeded even
in his highest hopes--he had rescued his beloved from certain death,
and with her the unhappy woman who loved them both as if they had been
her children, and whom they both loved and honoured as a mother. So far
was all the deepest happiness; and yet! and yet!
How dearly had that happiness been bought! Could it be happiness that
cost so high a price? Was there still left any happiness on earth, when
sorrow in pitiless shape lay so close at hand--even as the purple
shadows yonder between the battlements and projections of the castle
lay close against the patches of sunlight? Did not the most apparently
firm ground quake, just as the waves here were dancing over the field
where the countryman used to drive his plough, over the meadow where
the shepherd had tended his flock? Must they needs die--so young, so
beautiful, so richly dowered with the noblest gifts and qualities? And
if they must die, since they could no longer--would no longer live,
since death was to them only a deliverance from inextricable
entanglements--what a doubtful good seemed life which brought with it
even the possibility of so terrible a fate! How could the two fathers
bear it? Nobly, no doubt. And yet! and yet!
They rowed round the castle and the park, and drew near the shore at
the spot where the willows had been burnt that night, and where the
blackened stumps still rose above the bank. Several large and small
boats lay there already from Ahlbeck, and even from villages farther
distant along the coast. From all parts--from miles around--they had
come, for everywhere for miles around had the story been repeated from
mouth to mouth, with many variations, yet always the same--the touching
story of the youth who loved a maiden; of how the two had fled from
home, but could find no happiness or peace; and now both were dead, and
were to be buried to-day.
Reinhold turned his steps from the shore to the village. The President
had written to him that he should be at Warnow at the appointed time,
and wished to speak to him before he met the family. He knew the worthy
man's punctuality; and, indeed, he had hardly reached the open space in
front of the inn, where a whole army of vehicles was already assembled,
before a carriage drove up, from which the President alighted, and the
moment he saw him came towards him with extended hand.
An expression of almost fatherly goodwill lay in his silent greeting;
for the good man was too much moved to be able to speak at once, until,
after walking a few steps side by side, he began, with a melancholy
smile:
"Prophets both of us! Yes, my dear young friend; and what would we not
give to have been found false prophets, and that our storm-floods had
never come! But here they are, however. Yours, thank God, has quickly
exhausted its fury; mine--God help us!--must rage for a long time yet.
I wish such another valiant St. George might arise there too, to fight
the dragon so boldly and save the poor victims! I am proud of you, my
dear friend; there can be few people who rejoice so heartily in the
gallant deeds which, by God's good help, you have performed. To have
saved so many human lives--even if your betrothed had not been of the
number--how happy you must be! It will not add to your happiness--I
mean it will not increase the joy with which your heart must be
full--but it is right and proper that such good service should meet
with its proper recognition in the eyes of the world. Neither has your
former conduct, which roused so much ill-feeling at the time, been
forgotten. Had your advice been followed, the unfortunate harbour works
at least would never have been begun, and millions and millions would
have been spared to our poor country, to say nothing of the damage
done. The Minister thinks that such heads should not be left idle; he
has telegraphed to me, in answer to my brief report of the events here,
desiring me to offer you, in his Majesty's name, the medal and ribbon
of the Order of Merit given for saving life, and to ask you, in his own
name, whether you are disposed to enter his office in any capacity--as
Naval Councillor, I imagine; but of that you would hear from himself
personally; or possibly in the Admiralty Office--the two gentlemen seem
inclined to dispute over you. I think I know your answer--you would
like to remain here for the present--and I should most reluctantly lose
you just now. But keep yourself disengaged for the future; you owe it
to the public good and to yourself. Am I not right?"
"Perfectly so," said Reinhold; "it is my warmest wish and firm resolve
to serve my king and country, by land or water, wherever or however I
can. Any summons that comes to me will always find me ready; although,
indeed, I do not deny that I should most reluctantly leave this place."
"I can believe that," said the President. "A man like you puts his
whole soul into everything, and is absorbed by his duties, be they
small or great; and you have proved that great things can be done in
comparatively insignificant positions. But the matter has its social
side too, which it would be false heroism to overlook. The thorough
appreciation of your services in the highest places will be gratifying
to your poor father-in-law, and he would feel himself, besides,
terribly lonely in Berlin without his daughter near him."
"How kind you are!" said Reinhold, much touched. "How you have thought
of everything!"
"Have I not!" said the President, responding warmly to the pressure of
Reinhold's hand. "It is wonderful! But I have the honour of being a
friend of the family; you yourself acknowledged me in that capacity,
when, at the same time with the official report of the events of the
flood, you sent me a private account of what had concerned yourself and
the family to which you now belong. I feel myself honoured by your
confidence; I need not say that it will all remain buried in heart. But
you did right; in such complicated affairs it is better not to trust to
oneself, but to make use of the experience and judgment of one's
friends. And who could be better placed than I to give advice and
assistance in this case? I have thought over everything already, and
settled a good deal in my own mind, and have even taken some
preliminary steps, which have met with the readiest concurrence on all
sides. We will speak of this more at length when you come to see me at
Sundin, which you must do shortly. For to-day, as I must return
immediately after the funeral, I will only say this: I am certain that
the estates of your aunt the Baroness may be saved, as both Golm and
the Company are bankrupt, and must be satisfied with any reasonable
conditions. I shall not offer them favourable ones, you may be sure!
These men, who have brought such untold misery upon thousands, deserve
no mercy! Even so there will remain only the ruins of a magnificent
property, for the principal part is lost for ever, I fear, with that
terrible man Giraldi. Or do you not think so?"
"Indeed I do," said Reinhold. "I supposed so from the first; and the
account given by the man who drove him, and whom I afterwards
thoroughly questioned and examined, confirmed my supposition. The
influx of the tide between Wissow Head and Faschwitz was so frightfully
violent that the waters that first entered the so-formed gulf must have
been emptied out by the succeeding waves as out of a basin, with
everything that was floating in it. The water thus forced out would
join the immense stream running westwards into the open sea between the
mainland and the island, and if the corpse should ever, weeks hence,
perhaps months hence, be carried to some distant shore----"
"It is a pity, a great pity," said the President; "such a magnificent
property! According to my calculations, and the expressions used by
that dreadful man in his last interview with the Baroness, not less
than a million. How much good might have been done with it! And in your
hands, too. But then it would be a terrible thing to come into such an
inheritance. And the Baroness, too; are the dreadful details known to
her?"
"She knows that Antonio was the murderer of my poor cousin; and she
knows also that the two Italians met in their flight, and were drowned
together. I hope the unutterable horror that the man's account reveals
to us will remain for ever hidden from her."
"She does not believe in the son?"
"Not in the least! It is as if God in His mercy had blinded her usually
quick eyes on this point. She takes the whole thing for an invention
and sheer lie of Giraldi's. You may suppose that we strengthen her in
this idea, and thank the fates on this ground at least for the darkness
that has swallowed up what never ought to see the light of day."
"True, true!" said the President; "that is a comfort, certainly. The
unhappy lady has suffered enough already. The fates have not been so
merciful to your poor uncle. It is terrible to lose such a daughter--so
beautiful and gifted--in such a way; but for a man such as your uncle
from all I hear must be, so high-minded and upright, to be haunted by
the vision of a son who is pursued whichever way he turns by warrants
and detectives; for such sorrow as that I think no greatness of mind,
no philosophy can be of any use; it is utterly horrible, without the
least hope of consolation. Such grief cannot be alleviated by even
time, which cures most troubles; death alone can bring relief; but the
man will not let himself die."
"I do not know," said Reinhold; "he is one of a family who do not fear
death. However differently in some points the poor man may see life, I
can easily imagine that even to him the question may present itself in
a form which he understands, and that he may then not hesitate for a
moment in his decision."
The faintest glimmer of a sarcastic smile played round the President's
delicately-cut lips; he was about to say, with some courteous
periphrases, that he quite understood family pride, even when as in
this case it clearly overshot the mark; but a loud shout from a rough
voice close by them left him no time. The shouter was Herr von
Strummin, who with Justus came so quickly down the lane which led from
the High Street of the village to the parsonage, that Reinhold, who had
already received notice of his friend's arrival early that morning, had
no time to explain to the President the connection between the two men.
However, before Herr von Strummin had offered his hand to the
President, he called out:
"Allow me the honour, President, to introduce my son-in-law--Herr
Justus Anders--celebrated sculptor! Gold medallist, President! Came
this morning from Berlin with my daughter, in company with your aunt,
Captain Schmidt. Has already by desire of the Baroness taken the
arrangements into his hands, cleared out the whole of the big
ground-floor saloon; looks like the church at Strummin. Yes, my dear
President, an artist you know; we must all give way to him. And now,
only think, President, the clergyman cannot, or rather will not, say
the last words over the grave! declines doing so at the last moment!
We--my son-in-law and I--have just come from him; he would not receive
us--can't speak to anybody--can't speak at all! Conveniently hoarse!
The parsonage of Golm, which the Count has promised him, sticks in his
throat, I dare say! And it is a good mouthful--three thousand thalers a
year, without the perquisites. But I should think the authorities would
refuse their sanction; the toad-eating, hypocritical----"
"But, my dear Herr von Strummin!" said the President, looking round
nervously.
"It is true enough!" cried Herr von Strummin; "the Count has forbidden
him; the Count and he are always laying their heads together. My
son-in-law----"
The two friends could not hear what Herr von Strummin, who at last, at
the President's repeated request, moderated his loud voice, brought
forward in further support of his views. They had dropped behind a
little way, to clasp each other's hands again and again with tears in
their eyes.
"Yesterday at the same hour we buried Cilli," said Justus.
"Ferdinanda's Pietà, which I will finish, is to adorn her grave, and to
make known to the world what a treasure of goodness, and love, and
mercy lies buried there; and I will erect a monument to the two here. I
told Meta my idea for doing it on the way here; she says it will be
splendid; but how gladly would I really break stones for the rest of my
life, as my father-in-law used to say of me, if I could awake to life
again the good, the beautiful, the brave.--Your naval uniform is
wonderfully becoming, Reinhold! I ought to have taken your portrait so;
we must repeat it some day; the large gold epaulettes are splendid for
modelling. And that parson won't read the funeral oration because the
General and Uncle Ernst have determined that the two shall rest in one
grave! He implored the General to alter the arrangement; they had not
even been publicly betrothed! only think! But the General stood firm,
and has asked your uncle to say a few words. Even that the parson won't
have; but the two old gentlemen will not give in; they hold together
like brothers. A telegram came just now for your uncle; I was with him
when he opened it, and saw how he started; I am certain it has
something to do with that unfortunate Philip, he has been arrested
probably. It is terrible that your uncle must have that to bear too, on
such a day as this; but he has said nothing to any one excepting the
General. I saw them go aside together, and he showed him the telegram,
and then they talked together for some time, and at last shook hands.
Uncle Ernst, who had vowed that the hand which pressed the General's
should wither! And to-day he has asked me half-a-dozen times if I
believe that Ottomar's brother officers, who are expected, will really
come--we have made the funeral so late on their account--it would be
too sad for the General if they stayed away! As if he had no sorrows
himself! He is really heroic! But your Elsa is admirable too. She
loved her brother dearly, but how quietly she moves and speaks now,
and arranges everything, and has a willing ear and a kindly word for
every one. 'I could not do that, you know,' says Meta; 'there is only
one Elsa, you know.' Of course I know it! But there is only one Meta
too; don't you think so?"
"My dear son-in-law!" cried Herr von Strummin, looking back.
"He has called me that at least a hundred times already to-day!" said
Justus with a sigh, as he hastened on, lengthening his short steps.
They had reached the upper end of the deep narrow cutting, and saw the
castle now immediately in front of them. It was a strange sight to the
President, who had formerly known the place well, and whom Reinhold now
led a few steps forward to the precipitous edge of the bank. For the
stream had so washed and torn away the soil that here and there the
bank positively overhung, and Reinhold could no longer find and show to
the President the spot where the pine-tree had stood, whose fall had
been fatal to Ottomar. Below them, between the steep bank and the
castle, the stream still ran, no longer with the foaming waves and
roaring whirlpools of that night of terror, but in calm transparent
ripples, which met and joined together to form fresh ripples that
plashed against the keels of the five large boats on which had been
laid the temporary bridge that connected the head of the gorge with the
old stone gateway of the castle yard. The battlements of the gateway
and the great shield above, bearing the Warnow arms, shone in the
evening light, as did the round tower of the castle and the higher
roofs and gables, down to the sharply-cut line of the blue shadow
thrown by the hillside over the receding portion of the building. And
farther on to the right shone the tops of the trees in the flooded
park, and beyond castle and park the still water which filled the whole
immense bay, and seemed to flow without interruption towards the open
sea. Under the brilliant slanting rays of the sun, the few points of
the dunes still above water vanished even from Reinhold's sharp eyes;
he could hardly distinguish the roofs of the Pölitz's farm, and here
and there on the wide expanse the branches of a willow which formerly
stood by the side of a ditch.
The President stood lost in thought; he seemed to have forgotten even
Reinhold's presence.
"The day will come," Reinhold heard him murmur.
They crossed the bridge of boats, with the water gurgling and splashing
against the sharp keels; through the wide gateway sounded a subdued hum
of voices.
Now for the first time as they passed through the gate, they saw why
the village had looked deserted. The immense courtyard was filled,
particularly at the end nearest to the castle, with a crowd of nearly a
thousand people, standing about in large groups, who as they
respectfully made way for the gentlemen advancing to the door, took
note of them curiously, and made whispered remarks upon them behind
their backs. "The one next to the Captain was the President!" said
those who knew him, and they were the majority, to the others. "If the
President, who was the principal person in the whole province, and such
a good gentleman too, who was sure to act for the best, had come here
and was going to be present at the funeral, why then the parson could
not possibly stay at home. And if the parson had known that the
President would be here, he would never have been ill. He wouldn't get
the parsonage at Golm for a long time yet, and if the Count liked to
make him his domestic chaplain, why he might please himself; but
whether the Count and his chaplain would be any richer than the mice in
the chapel at Golm was another question. And if the Count meant to play
the master here, they would soon put him out of conceit with that; but
Herr Damberg said there was no chance of that; he might think himself
fortunate if he came off with his life, and at any rate his property
would be sequestrated!"
The four gentlemen had entered the castle. A more numerous and
brilliant group which now appeared on the bridge, attracted the
attention of the multitude. It was a party of officers in full uniform,
followed at a little distance by a larger number of non-commissioned
officers--belonging to Herr von Werben's regiment, said those who had
been in the army and who had seen Ottomar in his coffin. "And the
Colonel, who came first, he commanded his regiment too, and any one who
had served under him in France could see that he knew how to command,
by the look of his eyes and nose; and the Captain, who came next to
him, was one of the Staff who had been sent here by Field Marshal
Moltke himself; and the tall Lieutenant, also in the uniform of Herr
von Werben's regiment, was the young Herr von Wartenberg of the
Bolswitz Wartenbergs; and as for the old Bolswitz people, they had
arrived more than an hour ago in their carriage with three outriders
from their place ten miles off. And so how could a word be true of all
the nonsense talked about young Herr von Werben, that he had not been
taken to Berlin because he would not have had an honourable burial
there, and now here were people coming the whole way from Berlin to
assist at his funeral!"
Justus, who had readily undertaken the direction of the simple funeral
ceremonies, and who now saw the officers crossing the courtyard, waited
in the hall long enough to receive them, and to conduct them into the
room on the right hand where the company was assembled. Then he made a
sign to Reinhold to follow him, and led him through a door at the end
of the hall which he opened cautiously and immediately shut behind him.
"No one is allowed to enter now," said he. "What do you say to it,
Reinhold?"
The lofty and handsome room had its shutters closed, but was filled
with the soft light of innumerable wax candles in chandeliers and
branches on the walls, and in candelabra between masses of evergreen
plants and young fir-trees, which were beautifully arranged in a
semicircle opening towards the entrance to the room, and surrounding
the two coffins which stood on a high daïs, carpeted and covered with
flowers. The walls around were adorned with old armour which Justus had
rescued from the lumber-room, and fine casts from the antique, even
some originals collected by a former art-loving possessor of the
castle, and which he had brought together from the various rooms, and
also with bouquets of leafy plants and fir-trees, between which lights
were burning.
"Have not I made it splendid!" whispered Justus, "and all in these few
hours this morning! How they would both have liked it--he the armour,
and she the statues! But the most beautiful things here are themselves.
I must call the family now, Reinhold, before we close the coffins; do
you take your farewell now. You have not had so much opportunity yet as
the others."
Justus disappeared through a door which led to the inner apartments;
and Reinhold mounted the steps and stood between the coffins, in which
they slept the sleep that knows no waking.
Yes, they were beautiful! more beautiful than they had been in life.
Death seemed to have purified them from every earthly taint, that their
noble natures might show themselves in all their grandeur. How grand,
how fine was this maiden's face! how exquisitely sweet the youth's! And
as if in dying the union of their souls had been truly accomplished,
and each had lovingly given to the other what best adorned them in
life, on her lips that had been so proudly closed was a tender, happy,
humble smile, while from his delicate pure features death had wiped
away with the restless glance of the nervous eyes and the impatient
quiver of the delicate mouth, all that was imperfect and unfinished,
and left nothing but the expression of heroic determination with which
he had gone to his death, and to which a solemn seal was set by the
broad red scar on the white forehead. There was a slight rustle in the
leaves behind him; he turned and opened his arms to Elsa. She leant
against him weeping: "Only for a moment," she whispered, "that I may
feel your dear heart beat, and know that I have you living still, my
comfort, my help!" She raised herself again. "Farewell, farewell! For
the last time, farewell, my dear, dear brother! Farewell, my beautiful,
proud sister, whom I should have loved so dearly!"
She kissed them both on their pale lips; then Reinhold took her in his
arms and led her down from the side of the daïs, where he saw Justus
and Meta standing hand in hand a little way off between the shrubs,
while from the back appeared upon the daïs the General, Valerie, and
Sidonie, Uncle Ernst and Aunt Rikchen, to take leave of the dead. It
was a solemn yet exciting moment, the details of which Reinhold's
tear-filled eyes could not seize or retain, while to Justus's keen
artist's eye one touching and beautiful picture followed another--none
more touching or beautiful to him, who knew these people and their
circumstances so well, than the last which he saw: the General with
tender care almost carrying down the steps of the daïs the utterly
exhausted Valerie--she had only left her sick-room for this moment, and
had covered her head with a thick lace veil--while Uncle Ernst's
powerful figure, still standing above, bent down to good little Aunt
Rikchen, and he passed his strong large hand soothingly over her pale,
sorrowful, tear-stained cheek.
"Do you know," whispered Meta, "they are feeling now just what we did
when he stood by our sleeping angel, that they must love one another
very much now, you know."
Half an hour later the funeral procession moved from the gateway, from
whose battlements floated in the soft evening breeze on one side the
German flag, on the other a black flag, and passed over the bridge of
boats, up the gully, and from there turning to the right, entered the
gradually ascending road to the churchyard, which lay on the highest of
the hills that had now become the shore, a few hundred paces from the
village. It was a long, solemn procession.
First came village children, strewing with fir branches the sandy road
before the coffins, the one adorned with palms, in which lay hidden the
virgin form of the beautiful and heroic maiden, carried by sturdy
pilots and fishermen from Wissow, who insisted upon bearing their
Captain's cousin to her last resting-place; and the other with the
warlike emblems of the man for whom she had died, and whom a merciful
fate had permitted to die the death of a brave man, worthy of the
decorations he had won in presence of the enemy, and which the sergeant
of his troop carried behind him on a silk cushion, worthy that the
gallant soldiers who had known him in his brightest days, whose
shoulders his kindly hand had so often rested on in the heat of battle,
by the blazing camp-fire, on the weary march, should carry him now on
his way to answer to the great roll-call.
Behind the coffins came the two fathers, then Reinhold leading his
Elsa, Justus with his Meta,--Sidonie and Aunt Rikchen had remained with
Valerie,--the President and Colonel von Bohl, Schönau and the brilliant
company of other officers, the neighbouring gentry with their wives,
Herr and Frau von Strummin, the Wartenbergs, the Griebens, the
Boltenhagens and Warnekows, and all the rest of the descendants of the
old, long-established families; the innumerable following of landsmen
and sailors, the gigantic form of the worthy Pölitz, and the stalwart
figure of the head pilot, Bonsak, at their head.
A long, solemn, silent procession, accompanied step by step by the
monotonous sound of the tide washing against the steep banks, and now
and then the shrill cry of a gull, as skimming over the dazzling water,
it seemed curiously to watch the strange sight, or a whispered word
from some man to his neighbour, that even those nearest before or
behind could not hear.
Such was the word that the General spoke to Uncle Ernst, as the head of
the procession reached the graveyard, "Do you feel strong enough?" and
that which Uncle Ernst answered, "Now for the first time I feel myself
strong again."
But even Reinhold and Elsa, who walked behind them, would not have
understood it if they had heard. Uncle Ernst had not shown to any one
yet, excepting the General, the telegram of which Justus had spoken,
the fateful message, in the dry hard style of a police official.
"Philip Schmidt, on the point of embarking to-night on board steamer
'Hansa,' from Bremerhaven to Chili, recognised, and shot himself with a
revolver in his cabin; misappropriated money recovered untouched; will
be buried to-morrow evening at six o'clock."
Under the broad hand which he had thrust into his overcoat lay the
paper, and against it beat his mighty heart, beat in truth stronger and
with revived pride, now that he might say to himself that his unhappy
son was not at least one of the cowards who prized life above all
things; that even for him there had been a measure of infamy which
could not be over-passed, since at that moment he had spilt the cup of
life--a draught too insipid and miserable for even his dishonoured
lips.
The coffins had been let down into their common grave. At the head of
the grave stood Uncle Ernst bareheaded, and bareheaded stood the crowd
in a wide semicircle around him.
Bareheaded, silent, looking up to the stately man whose figure stood
out giant-like from the hill-side in the rosy evening light.
And now he lifted his great eyes, which seemed to embrace the whole
assembly in one glance, and now he raised his deep voice, whose
bell-like tones carried every word distinctly to the extreme edge of
the circle:
"My friends all! I may call you so, for in the presence of a great
sorrow all men are friends, and in this lies the healing and saving
power of a tragic fate, and also its necessity. As my shadow falls here
upon you, so does every one stand between other men and the sun of
fortune, and each envies the other his portion, which should, he
thinks, belong to him; and he forgets that it is only an outward show
that he so eagerly desires, a glittering show without warmth, and that
the warmth which he should indeed desire dwells in the heart of every
man, and is that alone which makes life worth having, or even possible.
Woe to us poor human creatures, that we forget this for long, loveless
years, forget the sublime words that love is above all, and drown the
pleadings of the heart that longs for love with the hollow tinkle of
our meagre knowledge and our paltry wisdom! Woe to the individual, and
woe to the nation!
"Woe to the nation that forgets it, and exists for generations and
centuries in crass selfishness and blind hatred, till the hereditary
foe breaks into its fields, and, waking the people from their dull
dreams, reminds them at length that they are brothers; and as brothers
they stand by one another, as we have done on innumerable battle-fields
in the most glorious and most righteous of all wars, only on returning
home to begin anew the struggle over mine and thine--the wild,
desolating struggle of self-advancement, that feels no shame and knows
no mercy, desires no peace and gives no pardon, and respects no right
but that of the victor, who scornfully tramples the conquered under
foot. Oh, my friends! we have experienced this! These last years will
remain noted as the most shameful, following immediately upon the most
glorious in our history--a melancholy memorial and sign how low a great
nation can sink.
"But our great German nation cannot, will not sink deeper.
"Let us, my friends, take this fearful storm with its desolating
horrors, which have now exhausted themselves and upon which this
sublime peace has come down from heaven, as a token that the storm
which is now raging through German society will sweep away the
poisonous vapours of self-love, and make the glorious German sun shine
brighter than before; that the barren waters which now cover so many
acres of young green grass will pass away, and offer a new land for
fresh honest labour and honest golden fruits.
"May this hope and this assurance soften the grief for the beloved dead
whom we now commit to the sacred bosom of the earth--this hope, this
assurance, and the certainty that they have not died in vain; that they
were blossoms struck down by the storm to warn the gardener that he
must tend and cherish the noble tree more carefully.
"The call comes thus to us the elders and old men. As they died gladly
and joyfully, without asking whether they might not still live,
hastening to death as to a feast, so must we live without asking
whether we had not rather die.
"The call comes thus to you who are younger, to you all the louder and
more urgently, the longer the road stretches before you, the more
powerful are the obstacles that rise in your path.
"Oh! thou bright star of day, whose last ray now shines upon us, and
thou holy sea, and thou reviving earth, I take you all to witness the
vow which we make at the grave of these too early dead: to renounce
from this hour all littleness and meanness, to live henceforth in the
light of truth, to love each other with the whole strength of our
hearts! May the God of truth and love overrule all to the honour of
man, and the glory of the German name!"
The voice of the speaker died away, but the echo of his words
reverberated in the hearts of the hearers as they pressed silently
round to offer the last honours to the dead, bathed in the reflection
of the rosy glow which the sun, now set, threw up to the sky, and which
the sky lovingly returned to the earth.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 1: No translation can give the full effect of the play upon
the word "Schmidt;" _Anglicè_, Smith.--_Translator's Note_.]
THE END.
* * * * *
BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, SURREY.
_S. & H_.
* * * * *
BENTLEY'S FAVOURITE NOVELS.
_Each work can be had separately, price 6s., of all Booksellers in Town
or Country_.
* * * * *
MRS. HENRY WOOD. MISS RHODA BROUGHTON.
East Lynne. (65th thousand.) Nancy.
The Channings. (29th thousand.) Good-bye, Sweetheart!
Mrs. Halliburton's Troubles. Red as a Rose is She.
The Master of Greylands. Cometh up as a Flower.
Verner's Pride. Not Wisely but Too Well.
Within the Maze.
Lady Adelaide. MRS. ALEXANDER.
Bessy Rane.
Roland Yorke. Her Dearest Foe.
Lord Oakburn's Daughters. The Wooing o't.
Shadow of Ashlydyat. Which shall it be?
Oswald Cray.
Dene Hollow. ANTHONY TROLLOPE.
George Canterbury's Will.
Trevlyn Hold. The Three Clerks.
Mildred Arkell.
St. Martin's Eve. MRS. ANNIE EDWARDES.
Elster's Folly.
Anne Hereford. Leah: a Woman of Fashion.
A Life's Secret. Ought we to Visit her?
Red Court Farm. Susan Fielding.
Orville College. Steven Lawrence: Yeoman.
Parkwater.
BARONESS TAUTPHŒUS.
MISS AUSTEN.
(_The only Complete Edition._) The Initials. | At Odds.
Quits! | Cyrilla.
Sense and Sensibility;
Emma. LADY G. FULLERTON.
Pride and Prejudice.
Mansfield Park. Constance Sherwood.
Northanger Abbey & Persuasion. Too Strange not to be True.
Lady Susan and The Watsons. Mrs. Gerald's Niece.
Ladybird.
MRS. AUGUSTUS CRAVEN.
A Sister's Story.
MISS HELEN MATHERS.
Comin' thro' the Rye. (Sixth Edition.)
BY ANONYMOUS AUTHORS.
The Last of the Cavaliers. Johnny Ludlow.
* * * * *
RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, New Burlington Street
* * * * *
BENTLEY'S BURLINGTON LIBRARY.
_Each Volume to be had separately, with few exceptions, in crown 8vo.,
cloth, price 6s_.
* These books are in Roxburghe binding.
The Dead Cities of the Zuyder Zee.
Guizot's Life of Oliver Cromwell.
Mignet's Life of Mary Queen of Scots.
The Day after Death.
Dr. McCausland's Sermons in Stones.
Dr. McCausland's Adam and the Adamite.
Dr. McCausland's Builders of Babel.
Lord Dalling and Bulwer's Historical Characters.
Timbs's Lives of Painters.
Timbs's Lives of Statesmen.
Timbs's Wits and Humourists. _2 vols. 12s_.
Timbs's Later Wits and Humourists. _2 vols. 12s_.
Timbs's Doctors and Patients.
The Bentley Ballads.
Dr. Doran's Table Traits, with Something on Them.
South Sea Bubbles, by the Earl and the Doctor.
Roots: A Plea for Tolerance. In demy 8vo.
Guillemin's The Sun.
Earl Dundonald's Autobiography of a Seaman.
Besant and Palmer's History of Jerusalem.
Crowest's The Great Tone Poets.
The Wit and Wisdom of Lord Chesterfield.
Bygone Days in Devon and Cornwall.
* * * * *
INGOLDSBY LEGENDS;
OR,
MIRTH AND MARVELS.
THE ILLUSTRATED EDITION. With Sixty beautiful Illustrations by
Cruikshank, Leech, and Tenniel; and a magnificent emblematic cover,
designed by John Leighton, F.S.A. Printed on Toned Paper. Crown 4to.,
cloth, bevelled boards, gilt edges. 21_s_., or bound in morocco, price
42_s_.
"A series of humorous legends, illustrated by three such men as
Cruikshank, Leech, and Tenniel--what can be more tempting?"--_Times_.
"Abundant in humour, observation, fancy; in extensive knowledge of
books and men; in palpable hits of character, exquisite grave irony,
and the most whimsical indulgence in point of epigram. We cannot open a
page that is not sparkling with its wit and humour, that is not ringing
with its strokes of pleasantry and satire."--_Examiner_.
THE ANNOTATED EDITION. A Library Edition, with a History of each
Legend, and other Notes, and some original Legends now first published.
In 2 vols., demy 8vo., handsomely printed, with an Original
Frontispiece by George Cruikshank; and all the Illustrations by
Cruikshank and Leech, including two new ones by the latter artist.
Edited by the Rev. RICHARD DALTON BARHAM. 24_s_.
THE BURLINGTON EDITION. An entirely New Edition, printed in _large_
clear type, in 3 vols., fcap. 8vo. 10_s_. 6_d_.
"Yet another edition of Barham's immortal work, beautifully printed and
chastely bound."--_The World_.
THE CARMINE EDITION. In crown 8vo. With 17 Illustrations by Cruikshank
and Leech, with gilt edges and bevelled boards. 10_s_. 6_d_.
THE POPULAR EDITION. Crown 8vo. Plain edges, 5_s_.; gilt edges, with
Three Illustrations, 6_s_.
THE "VICTORIA" EDITION. In fcap. 8vo. 2_s_. 5_d_.
THE JACKDAW OF RHEIMS. An Edition of this celebrated Legend in 4to.,
with Twelve highly coloured Illustrations, extra cloth, gilt edges,
7_s_. 6_d_.
_To be obtained at every Bookseller's_.
RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
* * * * *
"_One can never help enjoying_ 'Temple Bar.'"--_Guardian_.
Monthly, Price One Shilling,
THE
TEMPLE BAR MAGAZINE.
To be obtained at every Bookseller's or Railway Station.
"_Who does not welcome_ 'Temple Bar?'"--_John Bull_.
"'Temple Bar' is sparkling and brilliant. It might command a
constituency by its fiction alone, but it takes so much care of its
more solid matter, that if there were no stories at all there is enough
to interest the reader."--_English Independent_.
Besides many others, the following Serial Stories have appeared in the
pages of Temple Bar:--
THE NEW MAGDALEN, by Wilkie Collins;
RED AS A ROSE, by Miss Broughton;
LADY ADELAIDE'S OATH, by Mrs. Henry Wood;
LEAH: A WOMAN OF FASHION, by Mrs. Edwardes;
UNCLE JOHN, by Whyte Melville;
AURORA FLOYD, by Miss Braddon;
OUGHT WE TO VISIT HER? by Mrs. Edwardes;
THE FROZEN DEEP, by Wilkie Collins;
PATRICIA KEMBALL, by Mrs. Lynn Linton;
GOOD-BYE, SWEETHEART! by Miss Broughton;
A VAGABOND HEROINE, by Mrs. Edwardes;
JOHN MARCHMONT'S LEGACY, by Miss Braddon;
THE POISON OF ASPS, by Mrs. Ross Church;
THE WOOING O'T, by Mrs. Alexander;
THE TWO DESTINIES, by Wilkie Collins;
THE AMERICAN SENATOR, by Anthony Trollope;
A RACE FOR A WIFE, by Hawley Smart;
ARCHIE LOVELL, by Mrs. Edwardes;
And many other Novels by eminent writers.
A NEW SERIAL STORY
ENTITLED
"CHERRY RIPE,"
BY
MISS HELEN B. MATHERS
(Authoress of "Comin' thro' the Rye")
IS NOW APPEARING IN
_The Temple Bar Magazine_.
RICHARD BENTLEY & SON, New Burlington St.
_Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen_.