Out at sea the mild spring night was yielding before the approach of
day. Faint stars still twinkled in the sky, but the distant horizon
gleamed with the first streaks of dawn, and the slumbering waves
murmured softly, as in a dream.
Over the waters, through the ever strengthening morning twilight, a
ship was speeding. On board her were Count Morynski, his daughter, and
Waldemar. They had left the port of S---- about midnight, but it had
taken them some hours to steam through the vast river-mouth, and they
were only now issuing forth into the open sea. Wanda had not found
courage to part from her father so immediately after their reunion; she
had insisted on going with him, at least so far as the port of
embarkation, and Waldemar had yielded to her earnest entreaties. There
could hardly be danger in the plan; indeed, the journey to S---- might
perhaps be performed more safely in the company of a lady. The Princess
Baratowska would remain at Rakowicz for the present. As her son had
rightly foreseen, the Count's escape was attributed to her sole agency.
She alone was suspected, and any possible investigation of the matter
would be directed against her and her place of residence. Wanda's
absence was scarcely remarked; besides which, it had been arranged that
she should return from Altenhof in the course of a few days under
Waldemar's escort.
Old Squire Witold's estate, now the property of his adopted son, lay
near the coast along which the outward-bound ship must pass, and the
plan decided on was that the young people should bear the fugitive
company so far on his way. Count Morynski intended to await in England
the arrival of the Princess, who would stay on at Rakowicz some weeks
longer to be present at the marriage of her son and niece, setting out
immediately after it to join her brother. On meeting in England, they
would concert together as to the choice of their future place of abode.
Gradually day had dawned. Its first chill rays of early light played on
the broad surface of the sea, but colourless as yet, and conveying no
warmth. Now, as the coast receded and the open sea lay before the
traveller, the parting could no longer be deferred. Yonder stretched
the shore which bounded the domain of Altenhof, and, in close proximity
to the vessel, now slackening her speed, fenced in by a wall of white
morning mist, lay the Beech Holm. The leave-taking on deck was short
and pathetic. Count Morynski suffered most from the keen pain of it.
Strive as he might to retain his composure, he broke down utterly as he
placed his daughter in the arms of her future husband. Waldemar saw
that the torture of this moment must not be prolonged. He quickly
lifted his betrothed into the boat lying off in readiness, and in a few
minutes it bore them over to the Beech Holm, while the ship was once
more set in motion. A white handkerchief fluttered from the deck, the
farewell signal was returned from the Holm, then the distance grew
greater and greater between the traveller and the dear ones left
behind. The ship steamed off at full speed towards the North.
Wanda sank down on one of the large fragments of stone strewn beneath
the beeches, and gave vent to an outburst of passionate grief.
Waldemar, standing by her side, was mastered by no emotion, but his
face was very grave, saddened by the pain of that parting hour.
"Wanda," he said, laying his hand on hers. "This separation is not to
be a lasting one. If your father may not again set foot on his native
soil, nothing will hinder us from going to him. In a year you shall see
him again--I promise you."
Wanda shook her head sadly. "If I may yet find him! He has suffered too
much and too bitterly ever to regain health and an interest in life. It
seems to me that I have felt his arms round me for the last time."
Nordeck was silent. The same apprehension had forced itself on his mind
in that hour of parting. Count Morynski might rally from the effects of
his wounds and long confinement, but the defeat of that cause, to which
he had dedicated his life, was a blow but too likely to prove mortal.
When, years before, he had gone out into banishment, he could oppose to
his fate the mental and physical strength of a man in his prime; but
now that strength was sapped and failing--who could tell how long the
last remnants of it might hold good!
"Your father will not be alone," returned Waldemar, at last. "My mother
is going to him, and I only now begin to see all that we owe her for
this resolution of hers. It takes a heavy care from both of us. You
know her love for her only brother; she will be the staff and support
he needs."
Wanda's gaze was still riveted on the ship, now a mere speck in the
far-off distance.
"And you are to lose the mother you have so lately found?" said she, in
a low voice.
His brow clouded over at the remembrance.
"You do not think that is a light matter to me? No; yet I fear she is
right. Our natures are too similar for one willingly to bend to the
other, and were we to live together, concessions must be made. Were I
of her people, or she of mine, there would be need of none; she would
take pride then in all that I undertook. My success would be hers--I
should be carrying out her wishes as well as my own--as it is, I should
find her will constantly opposed to mine. To clear a path for new
institutions at Wilicza, I must begin by breaking down those she has
set up. We can stretch out our hands to each other across the gap, and
feel at last that we are mother and son; we cannot walk on side by side
through life. She has seen this more clearly than I, and has chosen
what is best for us. The decision, to which she has come, will alone
insure our lasting reconciliation."
The young Countess raised her dark tearful eyes to his face. "Have you
forgotten my father's warning? The unhappy national feud, that cause of
dissension which has hitherto torn our family into two, exists between
us also. It made your parents miserable."
"Because they had no love for each other," replied Waldemar, "because
cold calculation on either side had bound them together by the closest
tie which can connect two human beings. How could peace come of such a
union? The old strife was sure to blaze out anew, more hotly than ever.
But we can bring other forces into the field. I have won my bride in
the teeth of this national hostility, and I shall be able to defend my
happiness from its influence. If our marriage is really a venture, it
is a venture we may fearlessly make."
The light morning clouds sailing over the heavens became more and more
lucent, and the East flushed radiant with the dawn. A rosy glow spread
over the whole horizon, and the waves shone as though edged with liquid
gold. Then came one bright sudden flash, the first herald of the rising
sun, and immediately following it, the great luminous planet rose from
the waves, mounting slowly higher and higher, until it orbed itself
above them, appearing in clear and perfect majesty. Rose-tinted rays
quivered in the chill, pure morning air, and the surface of the water,
a minute ago so dark and drear, gained a deep, wonderful blue. With the
sunrise light and life streamed forth over earth and sea.
The first beams fell on the Beech Holm, dispersing the remnants of
white mist which still hovered between the trees; they sank on to the
dew-covered grass, they fluttered off into the forest, until nothing
was left of them but a light vaporous gauze, thin as air. The wind
rustled among the crests of the mighty beeches, which gently bent
before it, murmuring softly to each other. On this occasion they
whispered no gloomy complaint of decay and death as on that memorable
day by the forest lake--memorable, for was it not there, mid the
autumnal woods, in the falling twilight, out of the bosom of the
shadowy mists, that the dream vision had arisen, faint picture of that
scene which now appeared in glowing reality, the sea-washed Beech Holm
of poetic story, lying bathed in the golden sunlight?
Waldemar and Wanda again stood on the spot where they had stood
together years before--he, the wild, impetuous boy who fancied he had
only to stretch forth his hand to take undisputed possession of that
which had aroused his first passion; she, the giddy, light-hearted
child who had played with that passion in her thoughtless vanity. At
that time they had neither of them known anything of life and its
tasks. Since then they had had experience of it in all its fearful
earnest, had been drawn into its bitterest conflicts. Every obstacle
that can divide two human beings had been raised between them, but the
old sea-legend had spoken truly. Since the hour in which the spell had
woven itself round their two youthful hearts, the charm had worked
continuously, had preserved its hold upon them, spite of estrangement
and separation, had drawn them irresistibly together while all around
them blazed the hot flame of strife and hatred, had brought them
triumphantly through all the array of hostile influences to this the
hour of fulfilment.
Waldemar had put his arm round his betrothed, and was looking
searchingly into her eyes.
"Do you think now that a Nordeck and a Morynska may be happy together?"
he asked. "We will dispel the shadow which has lain on their union
hitherto."
Wanda leaned her head against his shoulder. "You will have much to bear
with, and much to overcome. Your wife will not be able to renounce all
that has so long been dear and sacred to her. Do not sever me
altogether from my people, Waldemar. Part of my life is rooted there."
"Have I ever been hard to you?" Waldemar's voice was full of that
strange gentleness which but one human being on earth had had power to
win from that cold, inflexible man. "Those eyes could teach the wild,
headstrong boy docility--they will be able to hold the man in curb. I
know that the shadow will often fall between us, that it will cost you
many tears, and me many a struggle; but I know too that at any critical
moment my Wanda will stand where she stood once before, when danger was
threatening me, and where henceforth her place will be--at my, at her
husband's side."
The ship, which was bearing the fugitive away from his fatherland,
disappeared in the cloud-like distance. All around, the sapphire sea
rippled and murmured--the Beech Holm lay flooded in golden sunlight.
Once again the waves sang the old, old melody, the chant of billow and
breeze combined, while in the pauses came a faint, mysterious music
like the chiming of bells--Vineta's spirit-greeting from beneath the
waters.
THE END.
* * * * *
PRINTED AT THE CAXTON PRESS, BECCLES. _S. & H_.
End of Project Gutenberg's Under a Charm, Vol. III. (of III), by E. Werner