"I must not forget one question I asked Silvain.
"'In the company of tourists who traversed the pass with Kristel, was
the young girl present, of whom you have so frequently dreamt?'
"'No. There seemed to me to be no females among them.'
"On the morning of that day we started for Bavaria, Silvain having
first despatched a letter to his father, informing him that he was
about to join his brother, and explaining the reason. It would prolong
my story to an undue length were I to dwell upon the record of travel
and experience, which does not bear directly upon the history of
Silvain and Kristel. Suffice it, therefore, to say that we arrived in
Bavaria, and, after necessary inquiry, proceeded straight to the
mountain pass on which Silvain believed his brother to have met with
the accident. Some time afterwards I reflected with interest upon the
singular contrast in our demeanour while we were pursuing our search.
I, who should have been calm, inasmuch as no being dear to me was in
danger, was restless and excited. Silvain, who should have been
anxious and disturbed, was composed. He believed in the truth of his
vision; I doubted it. But no room was left for doubt when we came to
the end of our journey. It terminated at the mountain hut, where
Kristel was lying slowly recovering from the injuries he had received
in his fall. Everything was as Silvain had described it. The hut with
its many small bedrooms, and the larger apartment in which the meals
were taken; the mount with its cavern of glittering spar and crystal,
with its entrance from the summit of the pass, and its mode of egress
at the side lower down; the overhanging ledge of rock which could only
be reached by a daring leap. I recognised, with feelings of amazement,
the faithfulness of the detail. The mystery of this spiritual sympathy
which found practical expression in a form so strange, was beyond my
comprehension, and I accepted it, as Silvain accepted it, but the
wonder never left me.
"Kristel was affectionately and unfeignedly glad to see his brother.
"'Did you expect me?' asked Silvain.
"'No,' replied Kristel, 'but I hoped you would come.'
"He listened attentively while Silvain related his dream. Although he
had received no forewarning that Silvain was coming to him, he
expressed no surprise; he regarded it, also, as perfectly natural.
"Before I saw Kristel I had pictured him in my mind as resembling his
twin-brother--dark, like Silvain, with black hair, and brown,
melancholy eyes. I had said to myself, 'I shall know Kristel, if I
meet him for the first time when his brother is not present.' Another
surprise awaited me. There was no resemblance between Silvain and
Kristel; there was scarcely a brotherly likeness. Kristel was fair,
his hair was light, his eyes were blue, and his frame was larger and
more powerful.
"They had much to relate to each other of their travels and
adventures, and I frequently left them alone, in order that they might
indulge freely in brotherly communion. I heard, however, from
Kristel's lips the particulars of his accident, which tallied exactly
with the account I had received from Silvain.
"'You must have dreamt of it,' he said to Silvain, 'at the precise
moment of its occurrence.'
"Silvain nodded and smiled. He was happy because he was with Kristel,
and because Kristel was recovering strength, slowly it was true, but
surely.
"'Has Kristel,' I said to Silvain, 'ever spoken to you of the
beautiful girl who presented herself to you in your dreams?'
"'No,' replied Silvain, 'he has not mentioned her.'
"'Is that not strange?' I asked.
"Silvain did not reply, and, gazing at him, I saw that he was lost in
reverie. I had recalled the image of the girl, and he was musing upon
it.
"At another time I asked Silvain whether he himself had referred to
her in his conversations with his brother. He confessed that he had
not. There was, then, a secret which these brothers held close in
their hearts. I was not wise enough to fix instantly upon the correct
solution of this secret which each was keeping from the other. It
required, in a third party, a riper experience than was at my command,
to read the riddle aright.
"Two months passed by, and Kristel hoped in a few days to be able to
move out of the hut in which he had been so long confined, Silvain was
in the habit of going to the post-office in the village, which lay at
the foot of the mountain. He went one morning as usual for letters,
and I was left with Kristel. We conversed freely, and Kristel asked me
to bring his desk, which was on a table at a little distance from the
couch upon which he was lying. I brought the desk, and he opened it.
He took letters from it which he did not read, and then some drawings
in water-colours, an art in which he was proficient. He glanced at
them, and laid them singly aside, retaining one, upon which he gazed
long and earnestly.
"'You are an artist,' I said, for, seeing that I had moved my chair
from the bed, so that I should not intrude upon his private matters,
he had called me closer, and invited me by a gesture to examine the
sketches.
"'But a poor one,' he said, still gazing at the drawing in his hand.
'Still, this is not bad, I think.' And he held it out to me.
"He did not notice the start I gave when my eyes fell upon the sketch.
It was that of a young girl, with most wonderful black hair which hung
loosely down. She was standing on the upper gallery of a lighthouse,
and the silver spray of wild waves was dashing upon the stone edifice.
Her left hand was arched above her brows, and a scarlet kerchief was
wound gracefully round her lovely head.
"I examined it in silence. The likeness to the description given
by Silvain was unmistakable, and it was only by an effort of
self-restraint that I prevented myself from disclosing that the figure
was familiar to me. The right was not mine; the secret was not mine. A
confidence had been reposed in me by Silvain, and, if he and Kristel
had not spoken to each other of the girl, it was not for me to betray
my knowledge of her.
"'A fancy sketch?' I asked.
"'No,' replied Kristel, 'from the life. Is she not beautiful?'
"'Very beautiful,' I said, with a sinking heart.
"I have spoken of the physical dissimilarity of Kristel and Silvain;
but although, from the evidence of sight, a stranger would not have
taken them for brothers, he could not have doubted of the close
kinship, had he depended for his judgment upon his sense of hearing.
Their voices were as one voice, In tone and inflection, so that,
closing one's eyes, one could not with absolute certainty decide
whether Kristel or Silvain were speaking. It was this that caused my
heart to sink when Kristel asked me if the girl was not beautiful. In
exactly the same tone had Silvain spoken of her, with fervid warmth
and enthusiasm. My vague fears--which at that moment I should have
felt a difficulty in explaining--were not dispelled by the action of
Kristel, immediately following my reply. Silvain's footsteps were
heard without, and Kristel, swiftly and hurriedly, took the sketch
from my hand, and placed it in his desk, which he closed and locked.
"Silvain brought grave news to the hut. His head drooped, his features
were suffused with sadness.
"'Kristel,' he said, in a tone of melancholy significance.
"'Silvain,' said Kristel, in a tone of indifference. The sorrowful
note in his brother's voice had not reached his heart. He was thinking
of the beautiful girl, with the wild waves dashing up to her feet.
"'Our father'--faltered Silvain, and stopped, unable to proceed.
"Even this did not arouse Kristel. He was lying now with his head on
the pillow, and his hands, the fingers of which were interlaced,
clasped behind it. Silvain came close to his brother's side, gently
disengaged the clasped hands, and held one within his own. Kristel was
awakened to reality by this action; and I, who had guessed the truth,
stole softly from the room.
"When they called me in I found them both with tears in their eyes.
The letters which Silvain had received at the post-office made them
acquainted with the death of their father. Their grief was genuine,
and they mourned with sincerity. Kristel was the first to recover his
natural tone, and he drew Silvain to speak of the future. Silvain's
desire was to return home immediately Kristel was strong enough to
travel, but Kristel would not have it so.
"'No duty of instantly returning,' he said, 'devolves upon us, and by
our remaining abroad a while, it will not be thought that we are
wanting in affection. Our letters inform us that the last sad offices
have been performed over the grave of our father; our affairs are in
good hands, and no mother or sister awaits us to relieve her sorrow.
We are alone, you and I, Silvain, with no ties beyond us to weaken or
strengthen the affection which unites us and makes our hearts as one.'
"Silvain looked up with a loving light in his eyes; his nature was
ever responsive to the call of affection.
"'Yes, Kristel,' he said, 'nothing can weaken the ties which unite us.
They are perfect, complete. Our hearts truly are one.'
"'Then you will be guided by me, Silvain?'
"'Yes.'
"'Good! We will continue our travels, and nothing shall ever part us.'
"'Nothing _can_ ever part us, Kristel,' said Silvain.
"Alas! If, upon the enthusiasm of the present, when men are indulging
in dreams, the presentiment of what was to happen in the future were
to intrude, how quickly the glowing embers would grow white and cold!
When I heard the brothers exchange these professions of love, even I,
who had some reasons for uneasiness respecting them, saw not the dread
shadows which attended them and beckoned them onwards to their fate.
"The days passed slowly now until Kristel was sufficiently recovered
to travel. He would have started long before he was fit, but Silvain
would not allow him; and Kristel must have had some doubts of his
strength, or he would not have allowed himself to be prevailed upon,
so great was his impatience to start. At length the day was fixed, and
we left the mountain and the village. I had solicited to be permitted
to accompany them and they had readily consented. Their society was
agreeable to me, and I loved Silvain. I looked upon Kristel, also,
with affection, but my feelings towards him were weaker than those I
entertained for his brother. Silvain appealed more closely to me; we
had been longer in association, and our natures, in impulsive warmth
and unreserve, were in unison. Kristel was colder, and sometimes
suddenly checked himself when about to open his heart. I do not say
that this should tell against a man, and I have no doubt that, in the
telling of my story, I am influenced in my remarks by the strange
events of which you will presently hear.
"At this point I am again silently reminded to be thoroughly sincere.
Not alone because I was happy in the society of the brothers and loved
Silvain was I desirous to accompany them. I had thought long and
seriously over the beautiful girl by the sea whose picture Kristel
kept concealed in his desk, and who held a place in the hearts of the
brothers, and I was haunted by a foreboding that she was destined to
play a part in their lives. By remaining with them I should perhaps
make her acquaintance, and might help, for good, either one or the
other. Of course, all this was but vaguely in my mind, and probably
the most truthful explanation would be that I was prompted by
curiosity pure and simple.
"Kristel had extracted a promise from Silvain, to the effect that
Kristel was to assume the position of director of the route we were to
take. I, also, was bound. We were to ask no questions, to offer no
advice, but to go blindly wherever Kristel willed and wished.
"'It suits my humour exactly," said Silvain, merrily, 'and relieves us
of responsibility. Eh, Louis?'
"'Yes,' I said, 'I am entirely agreeable.' But I wondered why Kristel
had insisted upon this stipulation. That he had a distinct motive I
was convinced. But what motive--and whither was he about to lead us?
"'Oh, I will take the responsibility,' said Kristel, 'and you shall
find me the best of guides and couriers.'
"So we started gaily, and in a few days left Bavaria far behind us.
"In pursuance of the necessary scheme of brevity I had laid down for
myself, I shall not pause in my story to give you an account of the
places we visited under Kristel's guidance and direction. I will but
say that I subsequently held the opinion--and I have no doubt it was
correct--that, although Kristel had one distinct goal in view from the
moment we started from the mountain-hut, It was a preconceived part of
his plan that we should arrive at it by a devious route, and should,
to a certain extent, be supposed to come to it by accident. Therefore
we lingered here and there, and shared in the ordinary pleasures of a
tour in the holiday of life. Between us existed a most agreeable amity
and complaisance, and I inwardly confessed it to be a wise proceeding
that one, whose word was law, should be elected captain of our
wanderings. By land, and lake, and sea, over valley and mountain, we
made pleasant progress, picking intellectual flowers by the waysides,
until at length Kristel's design was unfolded to my view.
"We arrived at a village on the southwest coast of France, and there
remained for several days. It was a village inhabited by fishermen,
and on one pretext and another, Kristel kept us there. In pursuance of
our promise of obedience we did not demur; and indeed there was much
to interest us in the life of simplicity led by the good-hearted
inhabitants. Their ancestors, for innumerable generations, had lived
there before them, and the quaint and sweet crust of primitiveness lay
upon the natures of the simple people, and invested them with a
peculiar charm. They received us hospitably, and gave us of their
best, freely and willingly. The weather was tempestuous and stormy
when we arrived, and for a week there was no change in it. Fierce
winds swept across the stormy sea, and roared and shrieked along the
coast. This prevented the fishermen from following their usual
avocation, but they were by no means idle. Sails were mended, boats
were caulked and pitched and made sound; then there were the curing
and smoking of fish, the repairing of huts, and all the industry of a
busy leisure. To such as they inaction was worse than death; work,
cheerfully performed, formed the greater part of the pleasure of life.
Often and often have I thought of the sweetness of existence as it
presented itself to me in that ancient village by the sea.
"A dangerous coast it was; and in the distance a lighthouse. Beyond
the lighthouse treacherous silver sands, in which lurked sudden death
when Nature was convulsed with passionate throes; at other times
fairly safe, bathed in peace and beauty. Within the radius of a few
miles many ships had been wrecked, and many a crew engulfed.
"We were young, strong, and in good health, and could afford to laugh
at wind and rain. Wrapped in oilskins lent to us by the fishermen, we
scaled high rocks, round the base of which the waves dashed furiously,
and watched the wondrous effects of the raging tempest. At such times
a man's soul is lifted up as it were. The littleness of the human life
we live assumes its proper and just proportion, and we become sensible
of the divine grandeur of Nature.
"At the end of a week the storm abated, and the sea became calm. When
we arose in the morning the sun was shining upon a scene of loveliness
and peace.
"'We are going to visit the lighthouse,' said Kristel.
"There was a glad and eager light in his eyes, and he was full of
excitement.
"He had made arrangements with a party of boatmen, and after breakfast
we went down to the shore, and took our seats in the boat. It was a
long pull--six miles the boatmen said. From the village this watch-dog
of the sea was only partially visible, the reason being that it stood
on the other side of a promontory, which we now skirted. A gray,
stately mass of stone, it reared beneficently to the clouds, an angel
of warning to the toilers of the sea. Calm as was the day, the waves,
broken up and lashed into anger by hidden rocks, were wild and
turbulent around the edifice. Nearer and nearer we approached, and
saw, but imperfectly as yet, the figure of a woman watching us from
the topmost gallery.
"'Avicia,' said one of the rowers to his comrades.
"They nodded, and looked in her direction, and said, 'Yes, Avicia.'
"Avicia! A sufficiently attractive and unusual name. But it was not
the name which compelled my breathless attention and observation; it
was a simple bit of colour on her head, worn as a covering.
"What colour? Scarlet.
"I closed my eyes and became lost in reflection.
"First, of the description given to me by Silvain of a beautiful girl
with raven hair, with parted lips and white teeth gleaming, and with a
scarlet covering upon her head, looking out towards us, who were
moving towards her upon the water.
"Next, of a coloured sketch of this beautiful girl, upon which Kristel
was gazing, as he and I sat together in the mountain hut, with love in
his eyes and in his heart. 'Is she not beautiful?' Kristel had asked;
and when he heard the footsteps of his brother without, he had
hurriedly and jealously hidden the sketch, so that Silvain should not
see it. And Silvain had never set eyes upon it, neither at that nor at
any other time. Of this I was convinced, although I had no positive
knowledge of the fact.
"'Shall I ever see her in my waking life?' were Silvain's words. And
when I asked him if he believed she lived, he answered, 'As surely as
I live. If I knew where she is to be found I would go and seek her.'
Well, without seeking her he was moving towards her; and Kristel and I
were with him; and Avicia was watching and waiting for us.
"I opened my eyes and looked forward, in dumb amazement and
apprehension. She had not moved from her point of observation. I
turned towards Silvain and Kristel. They were both gazing at her like
men entranced. For a moment I felt as if an enchantment had fallen
upon us.
"'What name did you say?' I asked of the boatmen.
"A foolish and unnecessary question, for I had heard it distinctly,
and it was already deeply rooted in my mind.
"'Avicia,' they replied.
"Silvain drew a long breath.
"'Kristel,' he said to his brother.
"'Yes,' said Kristel, in a dreamy tone.
"'She is no shadow.'
"'No, she lives.'
"'I have dreamt of her exactly as she is, exactly as she stands at the
present moment.'
"'You have dreamt of her, Silvain!' exclaimed Kristel, in the same
soft dreamy tone. 'Impossible.'
"'It is true. I described her to Louis.'
"'Yes,' I said, 'it is true.'
"Presently, after a pause, Silvain said, 'You knew she was here,
Kristel?'
"'Yes,' replied Kristel, 'I knew she was here.'
"No further words were spoken till we reached the lighthouse, entrance
to which was obtained by means of stone steps, on each side of which
hung ropes and chains to guide and steady us. In a few moments we
stood in the presence of Avicia.
"'I told you I would come, Avicia,' said Kristel. 'This is my brother
Silvain.'"