Produced by Charles Bowen, from page scans provided by the Web Archive
Transcriber's Note:
1. Page scan source:
http://www.archive.org/details/alpinefayromance00wern
2. The diphthong oe is represented by [oe].
The Alpine Fay
A ROMANCE
FROM THE GERMAN
OF
E. WERNER
BY
MRS. A. L. WISTER
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
1908.
* * * * *
Copyright, 1889, by J. B. Lippincott Company.
* * * * *
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER
I.--A Mountain Home
II.--A Morning Call
III.--Explanatory
IV.--The Last Thurgau
V.--The Lover and the Suitor
VI.--At President Nordheim's
VII.--A New Scheme
VIII.--Another Clime
IX.--The Herr President Speaks
X.--A Professional Visit
XI.--On the Alm
XII.--The Bale-Fire
XIII.--An Outraged Wife
XIV.--Midsummer Blessing
XV.--A Betrothal
XVI.--Suspicions
XVII.--Unforeseen Obstacles
XVIII.--A Mountain Ramble
XIX.--Nemesis
XX.--Blasts and Counterblasts
XXI.--A Challenge
XXII.--An Unexpected Visit
XXIII.--A Jealous Lover
XXIV.--The Avalanche
XXV.--Not all Despair
XXVI.--The Kiss of the Alpine Fay
XXVII.--Midsummer-Eve again
.
CHAPTER I.
A MOUNTAIN-HOME.
High above the snow-crowned summits of the mountains gleamed a rainbow.
The storm had passed; there was still a low mutter of thunder in the
ravines, and masses of clouds lay encamped about the mountainsides, but
the skies were once more clear, the loftiest peaks were unveiling, and
dark forests and green slopes were beginning slowly to emerge from the
sea of cloud and mist.
The extensive Alpine valley through which rushed a considerable stream
lay far in the depths of the mountain-range, so secluded and lonely
that it might have been entirely shut off from the world and its
turmoil; and yet the world had found the way to it. The quiet
mountain-road, usually deserted save for an occasional wagon or a
strolling pedestrian, was all astir with bustle and life. Everywhere
were to be seen groups of engineers and labourers; everywhere
measuring, surveying, and planning were going on; the railway, in a
couple of years, was to stretch its iron arms forth into this mountain
seclusion, and preparations were already making for its course.
Some way up the mountain-road, on the brink of a hollow whose rocky
sides fell away in a steep descent, lay a dwelling-house, which at
first sight did not appear to differ much from others scattered here
and there among the mountains; a near view, however, soon made plain
that it was no peasant's abode situated thus on the spacious green
slope. The house had firmly-cemented walls of blocks of stone, and low
but broad doors and windows; two semicircular projections, the pointed
roofs of which gave them the air of small towers, lent it a stately
appearance, and above the entrance there was artistically carved in the
stone a scutcheon.
It was one of those old baronial mansions, yet to be found here and
there among the mountains, simple and rude, half suggesting a peasant
abode, gray and weather-worn, but stoutly resisting the decay to which
many a proud castle had fallen a victim. The ascending slope of the
mountain formed a picturesque background, and high above a huge peak
reared its rocky crest, crowned with snow, lonely and proud.
The interior of the house accorded with its outside. Through a vaulted
hall, with a stone floor, a low spacious room was reached which
occupied nearly the entire width of the building. The wainscot, brown
with age, the gigantic tiled stove, the high-backed chairs, and the
heavily-carved oaken cupboards were all plain and simple and showed
marks of long years of use. The windows were wide open, affording a
magnificent view of the mountains, but the two gentlemen sitting at the
table were too earnestly engaged in conversation to pay any heed to the
beauties which each moment revealed more fully.
One of them, a man fifty years of age, was a giant in stature, with a
broad chest and powerful limbs. Not a thread of silver as yet streaked
his thick hair and fair, full beard; his tanned face beamed with the
life and health that characterized his entire figure. His companion was
of perhaps the same age, but his spare figure, his sharp features, and
his gray hair made him appear much older. His face and the high
forehead, already deeply lined, spoke of restless striving and
scheming, as well as of the energy necessary for them; there was in his
expression a degree of arrogance which was far from prepossessing, and
his air and speech conveyed an impression of self-confidence, as of a
man accustomed to rule those about him.
"So pray listen to reason, Thurgau," he said, in a tone in which
impatience was audible. "Your opposition will do you no good. In any
case you will be forced to relinquish your estate."
"I, forced!" exclaimed Thurgau, angrily. "We'll see about that. While I
live, not a stone of Wolkenstein shall be touched."
"But it is directly in the way. The big bridge starts from here, and
the line of railway goes directly through your property."
"Then alter your cursed line of railway! Carry it where you choose,
over the top of the Wolkenstein, for all I care, but let my house
alone. No need to talk, Nordheim; I persist in my 'no.'"
Nordheim smiled, half compassionately, half sarcastically: "You seem to
have entirely forgotten in your seclusion how to deal with the world
and its requirements. Do you actually imagine that an undertaking like
ours can be put a stop to, just because the Freiherr von Thurgau
chooses to refuse us a few square rods of his land? If you persist,
nothing is left us save to have recourse to our right of compulsion.
You know that we have long been empowered to use it."
"Oho, I have rights too!" exclaimed the Freiherr, bringing his fist
down heavily upon the table. "I have protested, and shall continue to
protest, while I live. Wolkenstein Court shall be left untouched,
though the entire railway company with the Herr President Nordheim at
their head should band themselves against me."
"But if you are offered double its value----"
"If I were offered a hundred times its value, it would be all the same.
I do not bargain for the last of my inheritance. Wolkenstein Court
shall not be touched, and there's an end of it!"
"This is your old obstinacy which has so often stood in your way in
life," said the president with irritation. "I might have foreseen it;
it is far from agreeable to have my own brother-in-law force to extreme
measures the company of which I am president."
"That is why you condescended to come up here yourself, for the first
time for years," Thurgau said, with a sneer.
"I wanted to try to talk you into a reasonable state of mind, since my
letters were of no avail. You surely know how entirely my time is taken
up."
"Yes, yes, heaven knows it is! Nothing would induce me to run the
perpetual race which you call life. What good do you get out of your
millions and your incredible successes? Now here, now there, you are
always on the wing, always burdened down with business and
responsibility. There's where you get the wrinkles on your forehead and
your gray hair. Look at me!" He sat upright and stretched his huge
limbs. "I am a full year older than you!"
"Very true; but then it is not given to every man to live up here with
the marmots and shoot chamois. You resigned from the army ten years
ago, although your ancient name would have insured you a brilliant
career."
"Because the service did not suit me. It never did suit the Thurgaus.
You think that is what has brought them down in the world? I can see
you do by your sneer. Well, there is not, it is true, much of the old
splendour left, but I have at least a roof over my head, and the soil
beneath my feet is my own; here no one has a right to order me
about and control me, least of all your cursed railway. No offence,
brother-in-law, we will not quarrel over the matter, and neither has a
right to reproach the other, for if I am obstinate you are domineering.
You hector your precious company until they are almost blind and deaf,
and if one of them dares to contradict you he is simply tossed aside
neck and crop."
"What do you know about it?" asked Nordheim, piqued by the last words.
"As a rule, you trouble yourself very little about our affairs."
"True, but I was talking awhile ago with a couple of engineers who were
up here surveying, and who, of course, had no idea of the relationship
between us; they scolded away at a great rate about you and your
tyranny, and favouritism. Oh, I heard a deal that was extremely
interesting."
The president shrugged his shoulders with an air of indifference: "My
appointment of the superintendent for this district was probably
distasteful to the gentlemen. They certainly threatened an open revolt
because I advanced to be their superior officer a young man of
seven-and-twenty who has more in his head than all the rest of them put
together."
"But they maintain that he is a fellow who would shun no means, so it
might promote his advancement," Thurgau said, bluntly. "You, as
president of the company, had nothing to do with the appointment,--the
engineer-in-chief alone has the right to appoint his staff."
"Officially it is so, and I do not often bring my influence to bear in
his department; when I do so I expect due deference to be paid to my
wishes. Enough, Elmhorst is superintendent and will remain so. If it
does not suit the gentlemen they can resign their posts; their opinion
is of very little consequence."
In his words there was all the arrogant self-assertion of a man
accustomed to have his own way, regardless of consequences. Thurgau was
about to reply, but at the moment the door opened, or rather was flung
wide, and a something made up of drenched clothes and floating curls
flew past the president and eagerly embraced the Freiherr; a second
something, equally wet and very shaggy, followed, and also rushed
towards the master of the house, springing upon him with loud and
joyful barks of recognition. The noisy and unexpected intrusion was
almost an attack, but Thurgau must have been used to such onslaughts,
for he showed no impatience at the damp caresses thus bestowed upon
him.
"Here I am, papa!" cried a clear girlish voice, "wet as a nixie; we
were up on the Wolkenstein all through the storm; just see how we look,
Griff and I!"
"Yes, it is plain that you come directly from the clouds," Thurgau
said, laughing. "But do you not see, Erna, that we have a visitor? Do
you recognize him?"
Erna turned about; she had not perceived the president, who had risen
and stepped aside upon her entrance, and for a few seconds she seemed
uncertain as to his identity, but she finally exclaimed, delightedly,
"Uncle Nordheim!" and hurried towards him. He, however, put out his
hands and stood on the defensive.
"Pray, pray, my child; you are dripping at every step. You are a
veritable water-witch. For heaven's sake do not let the dog come near
me! Would you expose me to a rain-storm here in the room?"
Erna laughed, and, taking the dog by the collar, drew him away. Griff
showed a decided desire to cultivate an acquaintance with the visitor,
which in his dripping condition would hardly have been agreeable. In
fact, his young mistress did not look much better; the mountain-shoes
which shod her little feet very clumsily, her skirt of some dark
woollen stuff, kilted high, and her little black beaver hat, were all
dripping wet. She seemed to care very little about it, however, as she
tossed her hat upon a chair and stroked back her damp curls.
The girl resembled her father very slightly; her blue eyes and fair
hair she had inherited from him, but otherwise there existed not the
smallest likeness between the Freiherr's giant proportions and
good-humoured but rather expressionless features and the girl of
sixteen, who, lithe and slender as a gazelle, revealed, in spite of her
stormy entrance, an unconscious grace in every movement. Her face was
rosy with the freshness of youth; it could not be called beautiful, at
least not yet: the features were still too childish and undeveloped,
and there was an expression bordering on waywardness about the small
mouth. Her eyes, it is true, were beautiful, reminding one in their
blue depths of the colour of the mountain-lakes. Her hair, confined
neither by ribbon nor by net, and dishevelled by the wind, hung about
her shoulders in thick masses of curls. She certainly did not look as
if she belonged in a drawing-room, she was rather the personification
of a fresh spring rain.
"Are you afraid of a few rain-drops, Uncle Nordheim?" she asked. "What
would have become of you in the rain-spout to which we were exposed
just now? I did not mind it much, but my companion----"
"Why, I should have thought Griff's shaggy hide accustomed to such
drenchings," the Freiherr interposed.
"Griff? Oh, I had left him as usual at the sennerin's hut; he cannot
climb, and from there one must rival the chamois. I mean the stranger
whom I met on the way. He had strayed from the path, and could not find
his way down in the mist; if I had not met him, he would be on the
Wolkenstein at this moment."
"Yes, these city men," said Thurgau,--"they come up here with huge
mountain-staffs, and in brand-new travelling-suits, and behave as if
our Alpine peaks were mere child's play; but at the first shower they
creep into a rift in the rocks and catch cold. I suppose the fine
fellow was in a terrible fright when the storm came up?"
Erna shook her head, but a frown appeared on her forehead.
"No, he was not afraid; he stayed beside me with entire composure while
the lightning and rain were at their worst, and in our descent he
showed himself courageous, although it was evident he was quite unused
to that sort of thing. But he is an odious creature. He laughed when I
told him of the mountain-sprite who sends the avalanches down into the
valley every winter, and when I grew angry he observed, with much
condescension, 'True, this is the atmosphere for superstition; I had
forgotten that.' I wished the mountain-sprite would roll an avalanche
down upon his head on the spot, and I told him so."
"You said that to a stranger whom you had met for the first time?"
asked the president, who had hitherto listened in silence, with an air
of surprise.
Erna tossed her head: "Of course I did! We could not endure him, could
we, Griff? You growled at him when he reached the sennerin's hut with
me, and you were right,--good dog! But now I really must change my wet
clothes; Uncle Nordheim will else catch cold from merely having me near
him."
She hurried off as quickly as she had come; Griff tried to follow her,
but the door was shut in his face, and so he decided upon another
course. He shook from his shaggy hide a shower of drops in every
direction, and lay down at his master's feet.
Nordheim took out his pocket-handkerchief and ostentatiously brushed
with it his black coat, although not a drop had reached it.
"Forgive me, brother-in-law; I must say that the way in which you allow
your daughter to grow up is inexcusable."
"What?" asked Thurgau, apparently extremely surprised that any one
could possibly find anything to object to in his child. "What is the
matter with the girl?"
"Everything, I should say, that could be the matter with a Fraeulein von
Thurgau. What a scene we have just witnessed! And you allow her to
wander about the mountains alone for hours, making acquaintance with
any tourist she may chance to meet."
"Pshaw! she is but a child!"
"At sixteen? It was a great misfortune for her to lose her mother so
early, and since then you have positively let her run wild. Of course
when a young girl grows up under such circumstances, without
instruction, without education----"
"You are mistaken," the Freiherr interrupted him. "When I removed to
Wolkenstein Court, after the death of my wife, I brought with me a
tutor, the old magister, who died last spring. Erna had instruction
from him, and _I_ have brought her up. She is just what I wished her to
be; we have no use up here for such a delicate hot-house plant as your
Alice. My girl is healthy in body and mind; she has grown up free as a
bird of the air, and she shall stay so. If you call that running wild,
so be it, for aught I care! My child suits me."
"Perhaps so, but you will not always be the sole ruling force in her
life. If Erna should marry----"
"Mar--ry?" Thurgau repeated in dismay.
"Certainly, you must expect her to have lovers, sooner or later."
"The fellow who dares to present himself as such shall have a lesson
from me that he'll remember!" roared the Freiherr in a rage.
"You bid fair to be an amiable father-in-law," said Nordheim, dryly. "I
should suppose it was a girl's destiny to marry. Do you imagine I shall
require my Alice to remain unmarried because she is my only daughter?"
"That is very different," said Thurgau, slowly, "a very different
thing. You may love your daughter,--you probably do love her,--but you
could give her to some one else with a light heart. I have nothing on
God's earth save my child; she is all that is left to me, and I will
not give her up at any price. Only let the gentlemen to whom you allude
come here as suitors; I will send them home again after a fashion that
shall make them forget the way hither."
The president's smile was that of the cold compassion bestowed upon the
folly of a child.
"If you continue faithful to your educational theories you will have no
cause to fear," he said, rising. "One thing more: Alice arrives at
Heilborn to-morrow morning, where I shall await her; the physician has
ordered her the baths there, and the mountain-air."
"No human being could ever get well and strong in that elegant and
tiresome haunt of fashion," Thurgau declared, contemptuously. "You
ought to send the girl up here, where she would have the mountain-air
at first hand."
Nordheim's glance wandered about the apartment, and rested with an
unmistakable expression upon the sleeping Griff; finally he looked at
his brother-in-law: "You are very kind, but we must adhere to the
physician's prescriptions. Shall we not see you in the course of a day
or two?"
"Of course; Heilborn is hardly two miles away," said the Freiherr, who
failed to perceive the cold, forced nature of his brother-in-law's
invitation. "I shall certainly come over and bring Erna."
He rose to conduct his guest to his conveyance; the difference of
opinion to which he had just given such striking expression was in his
eyes no obstacle to their friendly relations as kinsmen, and he bade
his brother-in-law farewell with all the frank cordiality native to
him. Erna too came fluttering down-stairs like a bird, and all three
went out of the house together.
The mountain-wagon which had brought the president to Wolkenstein Court
a couple of hours previously--not without some difficulty in the
absence of any good road--drove into the court-yard, and at the same
moment a young man made his appearance beneath the gate-way and
approached the master of the house.
"Good-day, doctor," cried the Freiherr in his jovial tones, whilst
Erna, with the ease and freedom of a child, offered the new-comer her
hand. Turning to his brother-in-law, Thurgau added: "This is our
AEsculapius and physician-in-ordinary. You ought to put your Alice under
his care; the man understands his business."
Nordheim, who had observed with evident displeasure his niece's
familiar greeting of the young doctor, touched his hat carelessly, and
scarcely honoured the stranger, whose bow was somewhat awkward, with a
glance. He shook hands with his brother-in-law, kissed Erna on the
forehead, and got into the vehicle, which immediately rolled away.
"Now come in, Dr. Reinsfeld," said the Freiherr, who did not apparently
regret this departure. "But it occurs to me that you do not know my
brother-in-law,--the gentleman who has just driven off."
"President Nordheim,--I am aware," replied Reinsfeld, looking after the
vehicle, which was vanishing at a turn in the road.
"Extraordinary," muttered Thurgau. "Everybody knows him, and yet he has
not been here for years. It is exactly as if some potentate were
driving through the mountains."
He went into the house; the young physician hesitated a moment before
following him, and looked round for Erna; but she was standing on the
low wall that encircled the court-yard, looking after the conveyance as
with some difficulty it drove down the mountain.
Dr. Reinsfeld was about twenty-seven years old; he did not possess the
Freiherr's gigantic proportions, but his figure was fine, and
powerfully knit. He certainly was not handsome, rather the contrary,
but there was an undeniable charm in the honest, trustful gaze of his
blue eyes and in his face, which carried written on its brow kindness
of heart. The young man's manners and bearing, it is true, betrayed
entire unfamiliarity with the forms of society, and there was much
to be desired in his attire. His gray mountain-jacket and his old
beaver hat had seen many a day of tempest and rain, and his heavy
mountain-shoes, their soles well studded with nails, showed abundant
traces of the muddy mountain-paths. They bore testimony to the fact
that the doctor did not possess even a mountain-pony for his visits to
his patients,--he went on foot wherever duty called him.
"Well, how are you, Herr Baron?" he asked when the two men were seated
opposite each other in the room. "All right again? No recurrence of the
last attack?"
"All right," said Thurgau, with a laugh. "I cannot understand why you
should make so much of a little dizzy turn. Such a constitution as mine
does not give gentlemen of your profession much to do."
"We must not make too light of the matter. At your years you must be
prudent," said the young physician. "I hope nothing will come of it, if
you only follow my advice,--avoid all excitement, and diet yourself to
a degree. I wrote it all down for you."
"Yes, you did, but I shall not pay it any attention," the Freiherr
said, pleasantly, leaning back in his arm-chair.
"But, Herr von Thurgau----"
"Let me alone, doctor! The life that you prescribe for me would be no
life at all. I take care of myself! I, accustomed as I am to follow a
chamois to the topmost peak of our mountains without any heed of the
sun's heat or the winter's snow,--always the first if there is any
peril to be encountered,--I give up hunting, drink water, and avoid all
agitation like a nervous old maid! Nonsense! I've no idea of anything
of the kind."
"I did not conceal from you the grave nature of your attack, nor that
it might have dangerous consequences."
"I don't care! Man cannot balk his destiny, and I never was made for
such a pitiable existence as you would have me lead. I prefer a quick,
happy death."
Reinsfeld looked thoughtful, and said, in an undertone, "In fact, you
are right. Baron, but----" He got no further, for Thurgau burst into a
loud laugh.
"Now, that's what I call a conscientious physician! When his patient
declares that he cares not a snap for his prescriptions, he says 'you
are right!' Yes, I am right; you see it yourself."
The doctor would have protested against this interpretation of his
words, but Thurgau only laughed more loudly, and Erna made her
appearance with Griff, her inseparable companion.
"Uncle Nordheim is safe across the bridge, although it was half
flooded," she said. "The engineers all rushed to his assistance and
helped to draw the carriage across, after which they drew up in line on
each side and bowed profoundly."
She mimicked comically the reverential demeanour of the officials, but
the Freiherr shrugged his shoulders impatiently.
"Fine fellows those! They abuse my brother-in-law in every way behind
his back, but as soon as he comes in sight they bow down to the ground.
No wonder the man is arrogant."
"Papa," said Erna, who had been standing beside her father's chair, and
who now put her arm around his neck, "I do not think Uncle Nordheim
likes me: he was so cold and formal."
"That is his way," said Thurgau, drawing her towards him. "But he has a
great deal of fault to find with you, you romp."
"With Fraeulein Erna?" asked Reinsfeld, with as much astonishment and
indignation in look and tone as if the matter in question had been high
treason.
"Yes; she ought to conduct herself like a Fraeulein von Thurgau. Oh,
yes, child, awhile ago he offered to have you come to him to be trained
for society with his Alice by all sorts of governesses! What do you say
to such an arrangement?"
"I do not want to go to my uncle, papa. I will never go away from you.
I mean to stay at Wolkenstein Court as long as I live."
"I knew it!" said the Freiherr, triumphantly. "And they insist that you
will marry some day,--go off with a perfect stranger and leave your
father alone in his old age! We know better, eh, Erna? We two belong
together and we will stay together."
He stroked his child's curls with a tenderness pathetic in the bluff,
stalwart man, and Erna nestled close to him with passionate ardour. It
was plain to see that they belonged together; each was devoted to the
other, heart and soul.