III.

"My route to Italy was rather a roundabout one. Instead of running

down to Marseilles and so on _viâ_ Civita Vecchia to Rome, I

set off eastwards, and crossed Germany, passing through Cologne,

Frankfort-on-the-Main, and Nuremberg; thence I proceeded to Leipzig, and

at length brought up in Dresden. It was my intention to go from there

southwards through Switzerland to Venice, and thus to make my approach

to the Eternal City.

"Dresden, however, detained me longer than I had expected. It was in

August that I reached it: there were not many people in town, but I was

delighted with the Gallery, with the picturesque sweep of the river, and

with the green shade and good music of the Grosser Garten. There were

several charming drives, too, in the neighbourhood; and as for the beer,

it was really a revelation to a man who had never known anything less

heavy and solid than Allsopp's pale ale.

"I had put up at the Hotel de Saxe, a broadsided old building on one

side of a large irregular 'platz,' called, I believe, the Neumarkt.

My landlord, who was a young gentleman of great personal attractions,

interested himself a good deal about my amusements; and one day he

happened to ask me whether I had visited a region known as Saxon

Switzerland. This, it appeared, was a mountainous district some twenty

miles up the Elbe, in which was solved the problem of putting the

greatest amount of romantic picturesqueness into the smallest possible

compass. It was a land of savage rocks, wild precipices, and profound

gorges, conveniently grouped within the limits of a good day's tramp.

It comprised all the sublime and startling features of your Yellowstone

Valley in California with an area about equal to the summit of one of

the table bluffs in that region.

"I packed my valise for a sojourn of two or three days among these

pocket Alps, put my diamonds in that secure inner pocket, and took a

droschkey for the railway station. The trip to Schandau (the principal

village of Saxon Switzerland) can also be made by steamer; but after

discussing the pros and cons of rival routes with my host of the hotel

the evening previous, I had decided to go by rail, which provides nearly

half as much pretty scenery as the river road, and takes up less than a

fourth as much time. I alighted at the station door somewhat late, and

having given my trunk in charge to a porter, was hurrying to get my

ticket, when my attention was caught by a young lady, who was standing

on the platform in an attitude that bespoke suspense and anxiety. Her

veil was down, but from the slender elegance of her figure and the

harmonious perfection of her costume, I could not doubt that her face

was beautiful. Evidently she was not a German; had she been a thought

less tastefully dressed, I should have said she was an English girl; as

it was, she might be either an Austrian or an American. Even then, I

rather inclined to the latter hypothesis.

"She appeared to be entirely alone; but she was scanning with

ill-concealed eagerness the crowd that was entering the station, as if

in search of a familiar face. When her glance fell upon me, I fancied

that she took an impulsive step in my direction; but she checked herself

immediately, and looked away. While I was hastily debating within myself

whether or not it would be 'the thing' for me to go up and ask her if

she needed any assistance, I saw a _dientsman_, or carrier, come up the

steps, and taking off his cap, deliver her a note. She tore it nervously

open, threw back her veil impatiently, and ran her eyes over the

contents. Beautiful she was, indeed! My anticipations had been behind

the truth on that score. Such strange, mystical, dark eyes underneath

level black eyebrows I had never seen. But just then there was an

expression of dismay and distress in them that made me half forget to

remember their fascination.

"She now addressed the carrier, seemingly in broken German, for he

evidently did not well understand her, and the answer he made appeared

to increase her embarrassment. Her slender foot tapped the stone

pavement; she read the note once more, crushed it up in her hand,

and then her arms fell listlessly at her sides with an air almost of

despair. She looked this way and that helplessly.

"By this time several persons besides myself had observed her

bewilderment, and I thought I perceived that a certain fat old Jew,

wearing a number of glittering rings and a very massive watch-chain,

was inclined to take advantage of it. This decided me on my course of

action: I came quickly forward, as if I had just caught sight of her,

and lifting my hat with an air of respectful acquaintanceship, I said

in French:

"'If mademoiselle will permit me, I may perhaps be of some use.'

"Her veil, either accidentally or of design, dropped again over her face

as she turned it towards me. I knew that she was scrutinising me with

a woman's intuitive insight, and I tried to look as guileless and

respectful as I am sure I felt. In a moment she asked:

"'Monsieur est-il Français?'

"'I'm an Englishman,' I answered, blushing a little, I dare say, at her

implied criticism of my imperfect accent.

"'Oh, I am glad! I, too, am almost English--I am American. But I don't

know how I can be helped, really!'

"'Some friend has missed an appointment----?'

"'Yes, indeed! Oh dear! it's worse than that. It's my father.'

"'You were going by the train----'

"'There has been some stupid mistake. I'm sure I don't know what I

shall do. We had arranged to start at ten o'clock this morning, and I

started first, because I wanted to do some shopping on the way down. I

understood that we were to rendezvous here. But he did not come at ten,

and I sent a dientsman to the hotel; and now he has brought word from

the hotel-keeper that papa started by the ten o'clock steamboat. I had

not understood that it was to be the steamboat, you see; and I'm left

here all alone.'

"'But if you took the next train, you would still arrive two or three

hours before him; that is--may I ask where you were going?'

"'Oh, I think Schandau is the name of the place.'

"'Schandau? Oh, then it's all right. There is a train starts

immediately.'

"'Yes--but--no; I'm afraid I can't do that.'

"I was puzzled. 'Perhaps you would like to telegraph him to come back

here for you?'

"'I don't know where to telegraph, so that he would get it; besides----

But, excuse me, sir. You are very kind; but I won't trouble you with my

affairs. I dare say I shall get on very well.'

"She turned away with a slight bow; but she was so evidently nonplussed,

that I determined to make another effort to gain her confidence. There

was not much time to lose; the first bell was already ringing.

"'I am going on to Schandau,' I said. 'If you like, I will send you back

to your hotel in a droschkey; and when I get to Schandau, I will hunt up

your father and tell him the mistake he has made. Here is my card.'

"She looked at it, and her manner at once changed. A half-repressed

smile glimmered on her face. I felt that we were on a right footing at

last, though I could not at the time understand how it had happened.

"'I will confess to you, Mr. Gainsborough,' she said, glancing up at me

with a charming trustfulness in her manner. 'My papa is so forgetful. We

were not coming back to Dresden. After Schandau we were going on to

Prague; and he has gone off with all our luggage, and--and he has left

me without even any money to buy my ticket! At least, I did have enough,

but I spent it all in my shopping.'

"This cleared up matters at once. 'How stupid of me not to have seen it

all before!' I exclaimed. 'Now, we have just time to get the train,' I

hurried her on with me as I spoke, bought our tickets in the twinkling

of an eye, and without waiting for the change, convoyed her rapidly

across the platform, and, with the assistance of a guard, we found

ourselves safely ensconced in a first-class carriage just as the

train moved off. My beautiful companion, breathless, smiling, and yet

seemingly a little frightened, sank back on the cushions, and felt for

the fan at her girdle. I wished to give her plenty of time to recover

her composure, and to feel assured that I had no intention of taking

undue advantage of our position; so, having arranged the windows to suit

her convenience, I betook myself to the other end of the carriage, and

diligently stared at the prospect for fully five minutes. Nature could

endure no more, and at the end of that time I was fain to change my

posture. I stole a glance at my fair American. She, too, was absorbed

in the prospect on her side, which consisted at the moment of a

perpendicular cutting about ten feet distant from her window. Her

attitude as she sat there was the perfection of feminine grace. Her left

hand, loosely holding the fan, drooped on her lap; her sleeve, slightly

pushed up, revealed the lovely curve of her arm and wrist. I am a

particular admirer of beautiful wrists and hands, and here I saw my

ideal. How exquisitely the glove fitted! and how artistically the colour

harmonised with the rest of her costume! The other little hand supported

her chin: I could just see the rounded outline of her small cheek, and

the movement of the dark eyelash projecting beyond it. Beneath her hat

the black hair turned in a careless coil, and charming little downy

curls nestled in the nape of her neck. She was a thorough brunette,

pale, and yet pervaded with warm colour. Beneath the skirt of her

crisp dress peeped the pointed toe of an ineffable little boot, which

occasionally lifted itself and tapped the floor softly. Suddenly, in the

midst of my admiring inspection, she turned round upon me, and our eyes

met. There was an instant's constraint, and then we both laughed, and

the constraint passed away, not to return.

"'I was going to ask you,' said I, 'whether you wouldn't prefer sitting

on this side. You will find the river better worth looking at than that

stone wall.'

"'I am under your orders, sir, for the present; you put me here; and

now, if you tell me I am to go elsewhere, I shall obey.'

"She rose as she spoke; the jolting of the carriage caused her to lose

her balance; I held out my hand to assist her, and so she tottered

across and seated herself opposite me.

"'Now are you satisfied?' she asked demurely, folding her hands in her

lap, and sending a flash into me from those mystical eyes.

"'Yes, indeed, if you are. Did you ever travel this way before?'

"'If you mean, alone with a gentleman I never met before--no!'

"'Oh, what I meant was----'

"'I know--I was only making fun. Yes, I believe I was in this part of

the country once, when I was a very little girl; that was before I went

to the Convent, you know.'

"'To the Convent?'

"She gave a charming impromptu laugh. 'I wasn't quite a nun--I don't

want to make you believe that! Only I was brought up in a convent near

Paris; educated there, as many young ladies are. I was there seven

years--wasn't that long? and I only got out a little while ago.'

"'It must have been awfully dull.'

"'Oh, I liked it in a sort of way; they were very kind to me there; but

then I didn't know how pleasant it was outside! You would never believe

how delightful the world is, if you were only told about it. My papa

used to tell me about it sometimes; and he is a great traveller--he has

been everywhere. But I didn't realise it until I saw for myself.'

"'Have you been to America since leaving the Convent?'

"'Oh yes. I went to New York, and saw my cousins there. Papa went with

me, but he came back to Paris first, and I followed later. I met him

again in Paris only a week ago. He will be surprised to see you here,

Mr. Gainsborough. What a funny way you have chosen to go from Paris to

Rome--through Dresden!'

"'Yes, I--but, by-the-bye, how did you know I was going to Rome? and why

will your papa be surprised----?'

"Again she laughed, and regarded me with so delightfully mischievous

a glance that I felt convinced I must in some way be making a fool of

myself. What did it all mean? I bit my lip, and the colour came into my

face from provocation at my own evident thick-headedness.

"'If you had only waited a little longer in Paris,' she continued, still

smiling enigmatically, 'perhaps we might have met in a more regular

way, and perhaps, then, you would have let me have had a look at

your--diamonds!'

"My diamonds! That explained the mystery in a flash.

"'Is your father Mr. Birchmore?'

"'I am Miss Birchmore, if you please, sir. You never asked me for my

card, and I didn't like to force it on you. It was so kind of you to

take me on trust, without making sure that I was all right first. I

thought Englishmen were more cautious and reserved.'

"I could now join in the laugh against myself with full appreciation of

the excellence of the jest. Mr. Birchmore, then, had been a married man

after all. Of course he was; why had I not before remarked the strong

family likeness between him and his daughter? Take her on trust,

forsooth! How I longed to retort that I was ready to take her for better

for worse, then and there, if she would have me. If she were a fair

specimen of American girls, what a nation of houris they must be,

indeed! But, then, they were not all brought up in French convents. It

was that that added to Miss Birchmore the last irresistible charm.

That it was that gave her that naïveté, that innocent frankness, that

unconscious freedom. And this lovely creature had actually known me, by

report, before we met. Her father had told her of me, and evidently he

had not given me a bad character. And this accounted for the favourable

change in her manner when she saw my card. Well, it was altogether

delightful; I had been guided by a happy destiny; thank fortune I had so

conducted myself as at least not to prejudice Miss Birchmore against

me. Verily, good manners are never thrown away; and, moreover, I prided

myself (as I fancy most gentlemen do) on my ability to detect a true

lady at a glance.

"We now resumed our conversation on a still more confidential footing

than heretofore. Miss Birchmore related many amusing anecdotes of her

late experience in New York, as well as of her earlier days in the

Convent, and even some passages of her child-life previous to the latter

epoch. I observed, however, that ever and anon she would check herself,

seeming to pass over certain passages in her history in silence; and

this reminded me of the similar behaviour which I had noted in her

father. That secret--that mystery, whatever it was, that weighed upon

him--had cast its shadow over her young heart likewise. Honestly did

I sympathise with her unknown trouble, and ardently did I long--all

vulgar curiosity aside--to have the knowledge of it imparted to me. Few

calamities are so heavy as that, by earnest and friendly help, they

may not be lightened. What could it be? In vain I asked myself that

question. Here was this lovely girl, in the first fresh bloom of

existence, just beginning to taste, with eager uncloyed palate, all the

sweet joys and novelties of life--health, youth, a happy temperament,

and ample wealth ranked on her side; and yet this bitterness of a

misfortune, not by rights her own, must needs communicate its blighting

influence to her! It was tragical to think of. Yes, ever and anon I

could mark its traces in her vivid face and winning bearing. A passing

gloom of sadness in those wonderful eyes; a quiver of apprehension about

the lips; an involuntary gesture of nervousness or lassitude; many

trifling signs, scarcely perceptible, perhaps, to a regard less keen

and watchful than mine had already become. Already?--but time in an

acquaintance like this is not to be measured by hours or minutes. It is

a trite saying, and yet how true, that those who are under the influence

of a strong emotion may live years in a few heart-beats.

"'Please--oh, please don't look so solemn, Mr. Gainsborough! What has

happened? I should think, to look at you, that you had been robbed of

your diamonds at the very least?'

"'No; they are safe enough,' said I, calling up as cheerful a tone and

aspect as I could muster, and putting my hand over the inner pocket as

I spoke. 'Are you fond of diamonds?'

"'Oh, did you ever hear of a girl who wasn't? I think there is nothing

so beautiful. Papa has a great many, but he says I mustn't wear them

until after I am married. Isn't that hard?'

"'But perhaps you think of being married before long?' I inquired, with

positively a jealous throb at my heart.

"'No; that's the trouble; I know I shall never be married.' These words

were uttered in a lower and graver tone, and once more I thought I could

discern the flitting traces of that mysterious melancholy. But she

brightened up when I said:

"'Well, he won't object to your seeing my diamonds, at any rate; not

even to your putting them on, perhaps!'

"'Just for a minute--may I? that will be splendid! Papa says that some

of them are the finest he ever saw.'

"'For longer than a minute, Miss Birchmore, if you are willing--I mean

if he----' What did I mean, pray? Was I going to make an offer of my

hand, heart, and diamonds, on less than an hour's acquaintance, in a

railway carriage? and was I going to forget that the diamonds did not

belong to me at all, but to my respected mother, who would probably see

me cut off with a shilling before granting me the disposal of them?

Luckily for my self-possession and self-respect, the train drew up

just then at the station known as Krippen, on the bank of the river

immediately opposite Schandau. The guard opened the door; we alighted,

and the first person we saw was Mr. Birchmore, and close behind him a

short, ungainly, beetle-browed fellow, a valet or footman apparently,

with a campstool, an umbrella, and a small basket of fruit on his arm.