THE APPARITION IN THE CLOISTERS
“The hamlet which he pointed to was known as Trenak, a little
settlement of six houses in the hollow of the woods. No sooner were his
words spoken than I had great joy of them, saying that surely Christine
must have taken refuge in the village. And in this I was warranted when
we had waited--it might be the space of a minute--for then we heard
the cry which he had heard; and with a loud answer we all ran together
down the road; those that had feared now heading the company, and each
man very solicitous to be first upon the scene. Yet we had not gone two
hundred yards from the spot when we were all huddling together again,
and the sound of a gun-shot twice repeated had stiffened the limbs of
every man among us.
“‘Hark to that!’ cried the steward, over whose brow the sweat was
pouring despite the heaviness of the frost; ‘whoever is down yonder is
at close quarters with the pack. God help them!’
“‘It was a Winchester rifle that was fired,’ exclaimed a woodlander.
‘There is but one hand in the province which holds a Winchester, and
that is the hand of the Lord Count.’
“‘You say well,’ cried I; ‘the Holy Mother help us to tell him the
news.’
“I have never seen men so sorely troubled, excellency. Though they had
no alternative but to run on swiftly to the help of their master, yet
each desired his fellow to be first, and the excuses they made, some
dropping their guns, others rekindling their torches, were a thing to
hear. Only at the last, and when we heard a new cry of terror, and the
rifle was fired repeatedly, did the urgency of the danger drive them to
forget all else, and send them headlong to the turn of the road whence
the one street of the village is to be observed.
“Never shall I forget the sight we saw as that street came to our view.
It was like passing from the darkness of a stormy night to the glare of
a terrible day. There, at a stone’s throw from the first of the houses,
was the sledge of Count Paul, its electric lamps--for he built it
after the model of the one at Munich--shining so brightly that all the
village was lit by them. We could see a dozen lusty men dealing stout
blows with their cudgels upon the ravenous beasts, of which fifty at
the least were snarling and snapping at the shivering horses. We could
see the wolves tearing the flesh in strips from the staggering leaders
of the team, or leaping at the villagers, or rolling in the snow as the
bullets struck them and the cudgels broke their backs. High above the
throng was the form of the Count, his rifle smoking in his hand, his
voice as clear and resonant as the voice of a sergeant at the drill.
And Christine stood at his side, seeming to make light of the peril.
“Excellency, that was a scene to remember; the glow of the lamps in
the ‘whirling fire,’ as the peasants call the sledge, the howling of
the wolves, the sharp reports of the rifles, the piteous moanings of
the horses, the shouts of the men--above all the figure of the Count
shielding little Christine. As for me, I never recall a moment so
welcome to me; nor could I fail to remind myself that my word in urging
on the men when they would have turned back had done not a little to
save the child’s life and the life of Count Paul. Certainly, our
coming was the turning-point of the attack; for the presence of the
master had put new heart into the poltroons who had followed me from
the house, and so soon as they saw him they ran on towards his sledge,
shouting like madmen, and firing so wildly that two of the villagers
were wounded by their bullets. Nevertheless, the pack being now taken
on two sides, and the din and noise being beyond words, many minutes
had not passed before the last of the wolves was limping to the woods,
and we were gathering about the Lord Count to congratulate him. He,
however, had thanks for none of us, since Christine, who had stood up
boldly while there was work to be done, had now fallen like a dead
thing upon the snow at his feet, and all his care and thought were for
her.
“‘How came the child out upon the road?’ he cried as the others pressed
about him. ‘Are your wits gone, then, that you had no heads to think of
it? Get out of my sight, you gibbering fools! Stand back from her! By
God, I will send you packing in the morning!’
“He continued in this way for some time, lifting Christine very
tenderly in his arms and laying her upon the cushions of the sledge.
His wrath was a fearful thing to see, and so fierce were his words that
none of his own dare answer him--not even the priest; and they stood
together in the road like children rebuked. Nor did I fare any better,
for when I would have told him that it was no fault of mine, and that I
had led the others to his help, he struck me with his whip and was the
more angry.
“‘Hold your tongue,’ said he, ‘or I will cut it out! God deliver me
from such a crew--to let a woman walk the woods when the sun is down!
Are you all drunk--and you too, master priest? Then slash the traces
off that dead horse and close round the sledge. You shall make noise
enough in the morning--make some of it now. The devil give me a lash to
reach you!’
“These were hard things to hear, signor, and when he gave us, above
them, some heavy slashes with his long whip, raising blood upon our
hands and shoulders, it seemed to me that our cup indeed was full. But
we could stand still no longer, and when we had cut loose the leading
horses--which had been horribly torn by the wolves--we closed round the
sledge as he had bidden us, and with much noise and clamour we ran by
the side of it, going safely through the dark place of the wood, and so
ultimately to the gates of the château. We were still at some distance
from the park, however, when Christine, who had but swooned, came to
her senses, as I could see from my place at the window of the carriage;
and finding herself in the arms of the man she loved, she raised her
face to his, and was held close to him while he kissed her again and
again.
“‘Ho, ho,’ said I to myself as I watched the pretty work, ‘now surely
is your day come, Andrea, for she will be his wife within the month.’
“Christine awoke on the following morning without any hurt of her
adventure, excellency. Nor did the Count hold to threats made in anger,
but having given Hans and the priest a sound drubbing with his tongue,
he dismissed them to their business. I, for my part, kept out of his
way all that day, fearing, if he saw me, to be sent back to Zlarin. I
had made up my mind to dwell at Jajce as long as circumstances would
permit, more particularly until Christine’s future was settled; and
now that such a settlement seemed probable this intention was the
stronger. Whatever fate was in store for the girl, that I wished
to share. I said to myself that I had earned the right to such a
participation in her fortunes. She owed it to me alone that she had
lived to know the comforts of her present state. I had given her bread
when she was starving, had heard her read out of the book when no other
in Sebenico would open a door to her. She had sat upon my knee like one
of my own children, had heard words of wisdom from my lips when others
gave her curses. Strange, then, if she should not think of me in the
great day of her life; strange if I must be sent away when the supreme
moment of her happiness was at hand.
“You may urge that such a thought was an anticipation of her state,
that nothing had yet passed to lead me to so triumphant a conclusion.
I answer you that I am a judge of men, and that nothing of the Count’s
nature was then hidden from me.
“Hour by hour the conviction that he would marry her had grown upon
me. I had begun to see that he was a man who had learnt to scorn the
opinions of his fellow-men--a man who would let nothing come between
him and his pleasures. In the same measure that he could jeer at the
religion of the priest, or pour torrents of anger upon his servants,
so was he at heart a just man, obeying a fine code of honour which
his own inborn chivalry dictated. The longer I remained in the house
of the Zaloskis, the more sure was I that no shame would come upon
Christine there. The Count had few to pry into the garden of his life.
His visits to Vienna were rare and official. His only relation was a
sister, whose one interest in him was the principal she had borrowed
and could not repay. Should he marry the daughter of a merchant of
Zara--and that was how the world would hear of it--there would be a
few to express surprise that he had not taken a wife from the _salons_
of the capital, but none who would have the right to remonstrate. Nay,
everything pointed to the one end--his loneliness, his care of the
child, the anger he had shewn when she was in danger, his tenderness
to her when she was in the carriage with him. Look at the matter as I
might, I could not alter my view; and so sure was I that Count Paul
had already spoken to Christine some words of his wish that I took
the first opportunity of talking to her, and of putting the question
without disguise.
“‘Christine,’ said I--and we were walking in the cloisters of the house
about the hour of sundown when I spoke--‘I have not ceased to thank God
for your escape last night. Surely it was fortunate that I heard of
your danger and called the others to your help.’
“She laughed rather merrily, and not a little to my hurt, excellency.
“‘Oh,’ cried she, ‘I have heard it said that you had no great mind for
the task, Andrea. Was it not your word that they should turn back and
go to Jézero? Father Mark declares that your legs trembled all the way
to the village!’
“‘A plague upon his lying throat!’ said I; ‘had not it been for my arm,
his bones would even now lie in yonder wood. Learn, child, that the
noblest courage may wear the poorest coat. Afraid!--I fear nothing in
heaven or hell!’
“She laughed again at this, but becoming serious presently, she spoke
very frankly to me, telling me of her predicament and of the great
events that came out of it.
“‘I never thought that there was any danger in the woods,’ said she,
‘for I have been through them a hundred times on my way to Jajce. Last
night, for the first time, the sun had begun to sink when I crossed the
thicket, and then I heard a pattering in the bushes beside me, and my
heart seemed to stand still when I remembered the stories I had heard
about Gozzo, the shepherd, who was killed in that place last year.
How I ran, Andrea! It seemed an age before I saw the lights of the
village and heard the clatter of Count Paul’s sledge. When at last he
saw me and I fell at his feet, and heard the moans of his horses and
the shouts of the villagers, I could have cried my heart out to have
brought such trouble upon him.’
“‘Think nothing of that,’ said I, ‘for I will venture he found the
trouble very pleasant.’
“She blushed at this, turning away from me, yet denying none of my
words.
“‘_Per Baccho_, Christine,’ I continued, ‘this is not news to hide from
old Andrea. What said the Count, now, when you came home?’
“This direct question seemed to anger her. She turned a flushed face
upon me, stamping with her foot and flashing fire with her pretty eyes.
“‘How dare you ask me that?’ she cried. ‘How dare you speak so? Surely
the Count was right when he said that you must be sent about your
business!’
“I was much alarmed at this, and determined to approach her otherwise.
“‘My Lord Count said that?’ exclaimed I, ‘then God reward him for his
gratitude! Three days have I suffered in the mountains that I might
speak for you, and this is my recompense. Nay, say nothing, child, for
nothing is to be said. Strike the hand that gave you bread; and when
you come to your new estate--when you are the mistress of many servants
and of many lands--forget that an old man, whom once you called father,
is perishing of his poverty and his want. He will never bend his head
to implore your charity. Nay, though you had the blood of queens in
your veins, he would neither remember nor rebuke. Enough for him that
duty has been his watchword, and love of you his crime.’
“My words brought tears to her eyes, and she came up to me, laying her
head upon my shoulder as she used to do.
“‘Andrea,’ said she, ‘do not speak like that. Wherever I am, there will
be a home for you. I could never forget the years when I called you
father. The Count will remember too. He has promised me. It is for you
to choose either a cottage in the woods here or a house in your own
city of Sebenico. It was his word to me a week ago. Your kindness will
not go unrewarded, old friend--that could never be. Wait only a little
while and all will be well.’
“I was much mollified at this, but for the moment any thought of myself
gave place to astonishment and delight at her words.
“‘Christine,’ said I, ‘Count Paul has spoken to you--then surely you
have news for me! Is it not my right to know? Oh, truly, I see that you
have great news, and yet not a word of it for old Andrea, who would
give years of his life to learn of your happiness.’
“She was silent a moment before she answered me, but taking pity at
last upon my curiosity she bent her head and whispered the word I had
waited so long to hear.
“‘Andrea,’ she said, ‘God make me worthy--I am to be his wife at
Easter.’
“Her confusion when she said this was very pretty to see; and directly
she had given me her news she ran away to her own room. But I stood
long in the cloisters, not daring to believe such fortune possible.
That Count Paul should have declared himself so soon was, indeed, a
thing to strike me dumb with wonder. Yet I knew that no false word
had ever passed her lips, and her intelligence kept ringing in my
head, so that I repeated it again and again, often stopping to clap
my hands with joy, or to tell myself that now truly should the future
bring me years of content. I foresaw the day when Christine should
rule the people of Jajce and they should rejoice at her dominion; I
made her in my mind the sweet mistress of the house of the Zaloskis,
the controlling influence which should break the anger of the Count.
I thought of all that she would do for the old man who had loved her;
and I could have danced for my delight. ‘Oh, surely, surely,’ said I,
‘may the day be blessed and may the love of God shine upon her, for she
is worthy.’ All the burden of my years seemed to have left me in that
hour, excellency. ‘Go, poverty, go, suffering,’ cried I; ‘no more shall
your hands be laid upon me. The morrow shall be the morrow of my ease.
The new day shall be a day of joy. Oh, blessed hour, blessed God!’
“I walked long in the cloisters of the château, full of such happy
thoughts as these. The dark came sweeping down upon the valleys,
the beacons of the sun’s fires were gone from the hills, and I was
still telling myself that no wonder in the world’s history was like
this wonder of my child’s life, this happy fortune which had carried
her--and her old friend--to such a home and to such a state. It may be,
excellency, that in my surprise and my satisfaction I fell to taking
all things as accomplished, to believing Christine already married, to
planning a future which was at the best a shadow. And if this be so, my
punishment was swift to follow, for even as I was about to retrace my
steps to the house and to seek audience of the priest I heard a step
upon the stone pavement behind me; and turning swiftly about, I saw an
apparition which froze my heart’s blood and held me to the spot like
one upon whom a judgment has come. God be my witness--I saw the face
and figure of Ugo Klun!
“Signor, it was dark then, with the first darkness of night. The sun
had gone from the heights, and there was no light of the moon to make
silver of the snow. None the less was I sure that Christine’s husband
stood there in the shadow of the cloister, and that his eyes were
looking into mine. Though his face was thinned by want, though his
clothes were torn and ragged, and one of his hands was bound up in a
dirty white cloth, I knew the man from the first--knew him and shrank
at the sight of him, and prayed God that it was a vision. All my
consolation, all my imaginings, left me in that moment of foreboding.
The breath of the frost seemed to breathe upon my life, the cup of all
my bitterness to be full. ‘No longer,’ said I, ‘may Andrea look for a
home in the house of the Zaloskis, no longer think that the burden of
his years is taken from his shoulders. That was the hope of yesterday.
To-day he is a beggar again, and the cup is snatched from little
Christine’s lips. Oh, cursed hour!’
“These were my lamentations in the first minutes of my sorrow,
excellency. That Ugo Klun lived I could doubt no more. The apparition
which I saw was the apparition of a second of time, and was gone even
while I was starting back in my dread of it; yet its reality I never
questioned. And when I ran out a little way into the park and looked
for footprints upon the snow, I beheld the path of the man, and it was
clear to me that he had made on towards Jézero, there, as I assumed, to
lie hidden until he could disclose himself advantageously. When that
moment would come, or what profit the man would make of his liberty, I
could not then foresee; nor had I any proper plan in my mind. My head
was too full of the saying ‘He lives,’ my heart burnt too fiercely
with anger and with regret of the present, to permit reflection upon
the future. This only was I determined upon--that neither the Count
nor Christine should learn of that which I had seen. ‘Perchance,’ I
said, ‘fear will keep him to the mountains; perchance he will not find
courage to claim what right he has. And if he does, then God help him,
for I will strike him down with my own hand!’
“The month which followed upon this dreadful night, excellency, was
one that time will never obliterate from my memory. It was difficult
to realise in the unchanging life of the great house that so terrible
a shadow lay over it. I saw Christine day by day coming to new health
and a more fascinating maturity; I saw Count Paul robbed of his old
taciturnity, made more gentle under her winning influence. That the
man loved her with a fierce, dominating love, all the world about the
château knew. Her presence was the midday of his waking hours. He asked
for her so soon as he came from his bedroom in the morning; often his
last word at night was an order for her comfort. No longer did the
hunt in the woods carry him for days from Jajce. His horses waxed fat
in the stables; his woodlanders made merry in their huts; his servants
blessed the day when Christine had come between them and their master’s
wrath. As for the priest, he had bowed his head to a fate he could not
control, and, seeming to have abandoned all scruple as to the death of
Ugo Klun, he spent his time in educating her who was to be his mistress
and in praising her for accomplishments she did not possess. I alone
lived with the shadow on my path; I alone cried to Heaven in the
bitterness of my heart that the sun might shine again upon my hopes.
“Excellency, you may demand to know, and with reason, what steps I had
taken to learn the truth of my fancies in the park. Be assured that I
had left no work undone that might bring me to a fuller knowledge of
the circumstances under which the man had contrived to present himself
at the house of Count Paul. I went to the cottage of his father, who
could tell me only that his son was dead. I sent letters to Sebenico,
to a friend in the police there, asking for a circumstantial account
of Ugo Klun’s arrest, and was told in answer that the man had fired
upon the corporal sent to take him, and in turn had been shot dead by
a trooper. How to reconcile this testimony with that to which my eyes
bore witness I knew not. On the one hand, an official declaration;
on the other, the apparition of the cloister. Had I been a witless,
unthinking fool like those about me, I should have said at once that
I had been the victim of hallucination, the creature of the mind’s
dreaming. But never yet did a hag’s legend shake my nerves or the voice
of the unseen terrify me. I knew that Ugo Klun lived; I felt his
presence hovering like the shadow of disaster about the house. God of
my life! scarce day or night could I rest, saying to myself always: ‘He
will come to-day--to-day the Count will know--to-day I must set out for
Sebenico and remember my poverty once more.’ Yet the days passed and he
did not come; the days passed, and we grew in happiness--_cospetto_,
the first breath of spring was upon the land, and we lived yet in our
garden of delights.”