This eleventh of July was an eventful day for the Post inn at Tausens,
and certainly merited to be underscored with a red pencil, as it was
that very evening by Hansel in the almanac.
The postmaster was still standing at his inn-door looking up the valley
after the three friends, when, just as a winding in the road hid them
from sight, he rubbed his eyes which he had lazily turned in another
direction, and thought he must be dreaming. No, it was no dream, he saw
advancing upon the high-road towards the village the realization of his
most extravagant hopes. Two equipages, each drawn by four horses, were
coming rapidly along the highway.
Since the death of the first madame, for more than a quarter of a
century no four-horse equipage had been seen upon the road to Tausens,
and here were two, one behind the other, and each, as Hansel's sharp
eyes discerned even at a distance, laden with large trunks, while the
light dresses of ladies were visible inside the carriages. These were
certainly grand and wealthy travellers, and that they meant to stay in
Tausens was plain from the quantity of luggage.
With intense eagerness Hansel awaited their arrival; he did not have to
wait long,--the first carriage was close at hand; all right: it turned
aside from the road, and with a sharp turn the coachman reined in his
four fiery steeds before the door of the Post.
A servant in rich livery sprang from the box to open the door and
assist the occupants of the carriage to descend. They consisted of a
very stout elderly lady, a gentleman also elderly, and a young
gentleman who had been sitting on the back seat.
The young man refused the footman's proffered aid; he sprang out, and
turned to assist his elderly companions. With the greatest care and
attention he helped out the stout lady, who descended from her seat
with difficulty, and then he gave his hand to her companion. The lady
thanked him with a pleasant smile, the gentleman in words. "Thanks, my
dear Guido. Here we are at last; my legs are positively stiff, and my
clothes are sticking to me with the heat. There comes the other
carriage. Eva looks as red as a cherry."
The second carriage now drove up; two young ladies were sitting inside,
and on the box beside the driver sat a third, much more showily dressed
than the others. The liveried footman hastened to help this last to
descend from her high perch, and his aid was accepted most willingly,
the young person leaning on his arm as if loth to leave his support.
The young gentleman who offered his aid to the occupants of the
carriage was not as fortunate as the footman; one of the young ladies
said, coldly, "Thank you, Herr von Bertram, I do not need any help,"
and the other said nothing, but the glance of her dark eyes spoke
plainly enough,--his assistance was rejected.
"Why will you not allow me to render you even the small service you
would accept from your servant?" Bertram whispered, quite aggrieved by
his repulse.
"Because I do not wish services forced upon me which I do not require.
When I need your aid I shall certainly request it," was Eva's sharp
reply, as she swept past him towards her Uncle Balthasar, who was in
eager consultation with the postmaster.
Poor Hansel! He stood there like some convicted criminal. He had taken
his short pipe from his mouth out of respect for the grand arrivals,
and in the other hand he held his black cap, with which he repeatedly
slapped his bare knee in his embarrassment. For the stranger gentleman
had demanded three rooms with five beds, with two smaller rooms for the
servants, the one for the lady's-maid near her young mistress, and two
sitting-rooms besides; and with the best will in the world Hansel could
not accommodate him, for the entire inn did not contain so many rooms.
If the three 'Bergfaxes' had not already been in possession! Hansel had
three unoccupied rooms, and beds enough. The servants could also be
taken care of, but that was all the accommodation the house could
afford, since the two best rooms were already occupied by the three
'Bergfaxes.' This Hansel told the stranger gentleman, who was in great
consternation at the intelligence.
Uncle Balthasar gazed in despair at the various huge trunks which the
coachman was taking from the carriages; where could they all find room
in the two apartments? for one of the three must be given up to
Bertram. And what in the world would become of Aunt Minni if she had no
sitting-room where she could recline comfortably all day on the sofa?
And was Eva to be cramped up in one room with Fraeulein Aline? The thing
was impossible!
Poor Uncle Balthasar contemplated with horror the tedious drive back to
the town,--five long hours of jolting,--for he thought he foresaw that
Eva would never consent to remain here a single night. He imparted to
her the sad intelligence that the two best rooms had been appropriated
by three gentlemen, who were going to remain some time, so that only
three sleeping-rooms were to be had.
"Only three rooms? That is not very pleasant, to be sure," Eva said,
much less alarmed than Uncle Balthasar had supposed she would be. "What
can be done with Wilhelm and Nanette?"
There was room for the servants. The maid could sleep in the same room
with Nannerl, and the footman in the garret, the postmaster said.
At this arrangement, and at the word 'maid' from worthy Hansel's lips,
Nanette made a wry face, and her anger was great when Eva said quietly,
"That might be arranged. If the rooms are clean and neat we might
manage to stay here for a while."
For a while! The postmaster's face shone at the prospect of a visit of
some duration from such grand guests, while a corresponding gloom
settled upon Uncle Balthazar's countenance. "Well, yes, my dearest
Eva," he assented with a resigned air, "if you say so we will try it.
It will be a little crowded, but just as you say, my dear."
"We will contrive to make ourselves comfortable. The country is
enchanting, and I hope we shall be able to spend some weeks here very
pleasantly and quietly in the enjoyment of nature in this retired
valley, undisturbed by the hordes of detestable tourists that make so
much of the Tyrol odious at this season of the year. First of all let
us see the rooms; the largest and most convenient will of course be
yours and Aunt Minni's, uncle dear. Aunt Minni must be comfortable.
There will surely be a place in her room where we can put a nice sofa;
and if there is no sofa here, Wilhelm must drive to the town before
night and buy one."
"Oh, we have a sofa," the postmaster declared.
At this joyful intelligence every cloud disappeared from Aunt Minni's
face. If she could have a good sofa, where she could doze away most of
the day, and if the cooking was good, she was abundantly content.
"There is another thing that can be done," Bertram remarked. "The host
might ask the three gentlemen to give up one of their rooms. Men do not
need a special sitting-room in an inn; they can make use of the inn
parlour in the daytime. If the host insists, they will consent to
vacate one room, and if they do not, they must be forced to do so!"
Eva cast a look of great disapprobation upon the speaker. "We are not
so selfish as to wish to interfere with the rights of others," she
said. "We shall certainly confine ourselves to our three rooms."
"I don't think Herr Delmar would give up the room," the postmaster
remarked.
The name of Delmar produced an electric effect upon Eva and Bertram.
Guido's face suddenly became leaden in hue, and across Eva's there
flitted a crimson flush, but she quickly recovered herself. "Is one of
the gentlemen who have taken the other rooms called Delmar?" she asked
the postmaster.
"Yes, one of them."
"Is he a northern German?"
"I think so."
"A young man about thirty years old, with dark eyes, black hair and
beard, and an olive complexion?"
"Just so; I think I knew him once somewhere, but I can't tell where."
"And the two other gentlemen? Do you know their names?"
"One I do; they call him Leo. I didn't hear the other's name at all."
"Herr Paul Delmar and his friend Herr von Heydeck!" Eva exclaimed in
some agitation. "What an unfortunate encounter!"
Bertram was not less moved; he bit his lips and did his best to
preserve his composure and not betray the dismay that he felt in
discovering that his two hated enemies, Delmar and Leo von Heydeck,
were in Tausens, and that he might at any moment be brought face to
face with them.
What terrible consequences might ensue from such a meeting if any
explanations should be made! If Delmar should ever give Eva an
account of the odious scene beneath Buechner's awning; if she should
learn by what means Bertram had been forced to make his disgraceful
apology,--that it had not been made in compliance with her wish but for
fear of ruinous revelations,--all would be lost!
He breathed more freely when Aline took Eva's hand and said in a voice
full of tenderness, "We cannot stay here, Eva dear; such a meeting,
such unavoidable encounters in this retired place would be too painful
for you and for all."
"I must say, Eva my dear, that I think Fraeulein Aline is right. Let the
trunks be taken out again to the carriages, landlord; we shall not stay
here."
Uncle Balthasar gave this order, quite convinced that Eva would
immediately desire, as he did himself, to leave Tausens; and it almost
seemed as if she agreed with him, for she did not object to his
directions to poor Hansel, when suddenly Bertram, by an imprudent word,
prevented what he himself most desired. He meant to reinforce Aline's
words and Uncle Balthasar's remark, and to confirm Eva's wavering
resolution. "We must go, go instantly, my dear Eva," he said. "We
cannot possibly expose ourselves to a meeting with that man and his
friend Delmar. We cannot subject ourselves to fresh insults, which I
must not even avenge. You owe it to yourself, you owe it to me, to
avoid such an encounter!"
His remark was most unfortunate. It decided Eva to act in direct
opposition to his wishes. "I am the best judge of what I owe to
myself," she said, proudly. "I will not have Herr von Heydeck believe
that I avoid meeting him because I am afraid of him. We shall certainly
remain here for the present."
"Eva, I entreat you not to be headstrong," Aline interposed. "Herr von
Bertram is quite right in this instance. You owe it to him and to all
of us to avoid all chance of a meeting which might have disastrous
consequences. Let us leave here, if we only go as far as the next
village. We can rest there and then continue our tour. Do it for my
sake, Eva!"
Eva would certainly have yielded to Aline's entreaty if coward fear of
an encounter with Delmar and Heydeck had not been plainly imprinted
upon Bertram's pale face. This fear seemed to her so pitiable, so
despicable, that her pride revolted at the idea of flight. No, she
would not retreat; she would not grant such a triumph to the man who
had insulted her.
"I cannot comply with your request, Aline," she said firmly. "Do not
urge it: my resolution is fixed; I shall stay. Come, dear, let us see
the rooms; the landlord will show us to them." She followed the
postmaster into the hall, and the others could do no less than imitate
her example. Guido alone was left standing in front of the house. His
portmanteau was not yet taken from the foot-board of the carriage, and
one of the men was busied in untying the rope that bound it there.
Should he order it to be left where it was? It was not easy to decide.
Like a flash of lightning all that had lately occurred passed through
his mind. Eva had indeed thanked him when he brought her the
intelligence that the duel had been made impossible, but then she had
asked for particulars with regard to what had occurred at Buechner's,
and he had been forced to give her an account that had some similitude
to the truth lest she should hear of it elsewhere.
He told her that after an interview with Count Waldheim he had awaited
Leo von Heydeck at Buechner's, to make him the apology which he had
promised Eva should be made, but that the execution of his design had
been hastened by the intervention of the old colonel and Delmar. He had
skilfully interwoven truth and falsehood in his narrative, but it had
not escaped him that Eva's countenance betrayed a certain distrust of
him while he spoke. He had begged her to allow him to accompany her
upon her tour, and she had not refused, but this journey had been to
him a daily source of the greatest humiliation. He would have liked
nothing better than to withdraw, but he could not leave the field to
his enemies; he must stay.
"Take the small leather trunk to my room," he gave orders to the man,
and then followed the servant into the house.
Meanwhile, Eva had subjected the three vacant rooms to a thorough
inspection, and had found that their neatness and comfort far exceeded
her expectations. One was very spacious; besides two beds it contained
a sofa, wardrobe, bureau, washstands, and two cushioned easy-chairs. It
would be easy to be comfortable here for a while. The second was
considerably smaller, and contained neither sofa nor wardrobe, but then
the prospect from the windows was perfectly enchanting. They looked out
upon the picturesque ruins of Castle Reifenstein, which here intervened
between the eye and the inhabited part of the building. In the
background the view was bounded by the snowy peaks of the Weisshorn and
the Drei Maidelspitz, with the blue shimmering glaciers of the
Schiechhorn between them. The third room, between the first and third,
and connected with each by a door, was small enough, with only one
window; a bed, washstand, and two chairs were all it could contain.
Such were the apartments which the postmaster placed at the command of
the travellers; in addition they could have the exclusive use of a
balcony, upon which a door opened from the wide hall. The magnificent
view from it of Castle Reifenstein and the glacier background made it
seem a most attractive resort, and even in bad weather it might be
used, since it was protected by a broad roof.
Eva's arrangements, after she had seen the three rooms and the balcony,
were soon made. "We will stay here," she said; "we can make ourselves
very comfortable here for a while. The large room with the sofa is
yours and uncle's of course, Aunt Minni; Aline and I shall do very well
in this next largest room, and Nanette can have the one with one window
if Herr von Bertram leaves us."
"Which he certainly will not do," Guido rejoined, having overheard the
last words.
"Then Nanette will sleep in Nannerl's room, and the little room is
yours."
Guido made no reply.
"Come, Aline," Eva said to her friend, "let us arrange our room." With
these words she left the spacious hall in which the conversation had
been held and entered her apartment. Then, while Aline closed the door
after them, she examined the door leading to the room she had assigned
to Bertram. To her satisfaction she found it provided with a heavy iron
bolt, which she pushed home, and then turned to her friend.
Hitherto she had exerted herself to preserve an appearance of quiet
composure, while all the while her heart was beating so violently that
she could scarcely bear it. Now that she was at last alone with her
friend and there was no need longer to control her emotion, she threw
her arms around her and leaned her weary head upon her bosom.
"My poor, poor Eva!" said Aline, with tender sympathy.
"Oh, Aline, I am so wretchedly unhappy!"
With a gentle hand Aline stroked the dark curls from her friend's brow
and kissed her. "Cry, my poor Eva, as much as you want to," she said
lovingly; "the tears which you have so long restrained will soothe your
pain. And then you shall bathe your eyes and compose yourself. Your
betrothed must not see that you have been weeping."
"My betrothed! Why do you torture me with that word? You know how from
the very depths of my soul I hate it!"
"Then it is your duty to break this miserable engagement," Aline
rejoined gravely. "You would not listen to me when you gave your hasty
promise, and therefore I have been silent until now, but I cannot bear
to see you so unhappy. It is my duty as your friend to advise and to
warn you even although I should offend you by doing so. I will not
quietly look on when I see you obstinately determined to seal your
unhappiness forever!"
"But what shall I do, Aline?"
"You must make up your mind to break the fetters which you yourself
forged."
"But I have promised."
"Promised? And is this wretched promise to annihilate your happiness
for life? You used to be indifferent to Bertram, and that was bad
enough; but now I can read in your eyes as in an open book, he becomes
more odious to you every hour of every day, and you would give
yourself--swear love and fidelity before the altar--to this man whose
very touch inspires you with loathing. Will it not be perjury and a far
greater wrong to Bertram than if you should break your hasty promise?"
"He knows well that I do not love him."
"So much the worse. If he does not wish for your heart, for your
love, he is speculating upon your money. Give him a share of your
fortune,--you are rich enough,--but do not sacrifice yourself!"
"How gladly would I do so, but he will not release me. Do not urge me
further. Aline, you only make me more unhappy. I have had a hard
struggle with myself; indeed the fulfilment of the duty I have
undertaken demands all the strength I am mistress of, but it must be
fulfilled. Bertram has sacrificed his future to me. Can money requite
him for the honour he has lost? I cannot retreat. My destiny must be
fulfilled!"