A MOUNTAIN RAMBLE.
Autumn this year had donned the aspect of a late summer. The days, with
but few exceptions, were sunny and clear, the air was mild, and the
mountains stood revealed in all their rarest beauty.
The inmates of the Nordheim villa had prolonged their stay, which had
been at first arranged for only the summer months, into October. They
had been induced to do this, first out of consideration for Alice's
health, and then in accordance with Erna's wish to spend as long a time
as was possible among her beloved mountains. Since she had been
betrothed to Waltenberg her position in the household had undergone a
change; Frau von Lasberg no longer permitted herself to find fault with
her, and the president was always ready to forestall his niece's
wishes. Waltenberg himself, who disliked a city life with its
conventionalities and restraints, was glad to be rid of it, and the
Baroness alone sighed about the 'endless exile,' and comforted herself
with the prospect of a winter more than usually gay. Now that Erna was
also betrothed and that Elmhorst would be in the capital during the
winter months, after his labours as engineer among the mountains were
at an end, the Nordheim mansion would surely justify its reputation.
There would doubtless be a series of entertainments in honour of the
young couples, and Frau von Lasberg revelled in the contemplation of
the prominent part it would be hers to play.
Erna and Alice were sitting on the veranda of the villa, and the gay
chatter heard thence absolutely came from the lips of Alice Nordheim.
There was not a vestige of the air of indifference with which she used
to speak formerly. The change that had taken place in her bordered on
the miraculous: the sickly pallor the weary movements, the fatigued,
unsympathetic expression, had all vanished; the cheeks were rosy, the
eyes bright. Whether it were owing to the mountain-air which blew here
so pure and fresh, or to the treatment of the young physician, the fact
was that in a few months the girl had blossomed forth like some flower
which, fading and sickly in the shade, expands into tender beauty in
the clear, warm sunshine.
"I wonder where Herr Waltenberg is?" she was just saying. "He is
usually here before this time."
"Ernst wrote me that he should be rather late today, since he meant to
bring us a surprise from Heilborn," Erna replied. She was seated at her
drawing, from which she did not look up, nor did she evince the
slightest interest in the promised surprise.
"'Tis strange that he should write to you so often, when he sees you
every day," remarked Alice, who was quite unused to such attentions
from her own lover. "And then he fairly overwhelms you with flowers,
for which, it seems to me, you are not half grateful enough."
"I am afraid that is Ernst's own fault," was the quiet reply. "He
spoils me, and I am too ready to be spoiled."
"Yes, there is something exaggerated in his manner of wooing," Alice
interposed. "His love seems to me like a fire, which burns rather than
illumines."
"His is an unusual nature," said Erna. "He must not be judged by the
standard we apply to others. Believe me, Alice, much, nay, everything,
can be endured in the consciousness that one is supremely and ardently
beloved."
She laid down her pencil and looked dreamily abroad into space. It
sounded odd, the word 'endured,' and its significance was not softened
by so much as the shadow of a smile. Indeed, the expression of gravity
was deepened in the young girl's face, and in her eyes there was an
indescribable something which assuredly was not happiness.
In the short pause that ensued, the noise of carriage-wheels became
audible, and some vehicle drew up in front of the house. Erna shivered
slightly; she knew who was at hand, although from where she sat the
road could not be seen. She slowly closed her sketchbook and arose, but
before she could leave the veranda, a young creature came flying out of
the drawing-room and clasped her in an enthusiastic embrace, after
which she turned just as eagerly to Alice.
"Why, Molly, is this you?" both girls exclaimed, in a breath.
It was in fact Frau Gersdorf, rosy, merry, and saucy as ever, and
behind her appeared Ernst Waltenberg, evidently delighted with the
success of his surprise.
"Yes, it is really I," the new-comer began. "Albert had a tiresome,
never-ending suit to attend to in Heilborn, and of course I came with
him. The poor fellow's hard work must be made as tolerable as possible
for him, so I always go with him upon these expeditions. I verily
believe that if he should take it into his head to climb Mount Blanc,
or the Himalayas, I should scramble up after him. Thank God, there are
no cases to try up there, so there is no chance of his undertaking the
ascents. And how are you all here? You have absolutely vanished from
the capital. But there's no need to ask; Alice looks fresh as a rose,
and Erna is planning her wedding-tour, I hear. Where is it to be? To
the South Sea or the North Pole? I should advise the South Sea,--the
climate is milder."
She paused to take breath, and without waiting for a reply threw
herself into an arm-chair and declared that she was too tired to say a
single word.
After the first exchange of greetings Ernst approached his betrothed
and handed her a bouquet of costly foreign flowers, rich in colour and
exhaling an overpowering fragrance.
"Did I not keep my promise?" he said, pointing to Molly. "I planned
this surprise with Albert yesterday afternoon, knowing I should surely
be welcome so accompanied."
"But that you always are," said Erna, taking the flowers from him with
thanks.
"Always?" he repeated. "Really always? Some times I doubt it."
"Do not say that, Ernst."
His eyes, filled with a passionate entreaty, met her reproachful
glance, as together they walked down the veranda steps into the garden.
"Are you a little glad when I come?" he went on, in a low tone. "I
sometimes imagine you dread my approach and shrink from my embrace, and
more than once I have fancied I could detect a sigh of relief when I
left you."
"Yes, you watch every look of mine, every breath that I draw, and
convert it all into pain, both for yourself and for me," Erna said,
gravely. "Your passionate surveillance torments me; how will it be when
we are married?"
"Ah, then I shall be calm," he said, with a sigh. "Then I shall know
you for my own, my very own; no other will have any right to intrude
between us, and then perhaps I may teach you to love me; hitherto I
have tried in vain. That you can love I know. You loved--him!"
She hastily withdrew the hand she had left in his: "Ernst, you promised
me----"
"Not to speak of that. Yes, I promised, but I did not know how hard it
is to fight against a memory, to war with a mere phantom. Would that it
were flesh and blood, that I might battle with it to the death!"
His eyes flashed with the mortal hatred that had gleamed in them when
he had learned that Erna had loved another. She turned pale, as she
laid her hand soothingly upon his arm.
"Ernst," she said, gently, "why torment yourself thus perpetually? You
suffer terribly; I see it, and bitterly do I repent my confession. Have
I no power to make you calmer and happier?"
Her tone disarmed him at once; he took her hand, and kissed it eagerly:
"Your power over me is boundless when you look and speak thus. Forgive
me for paining you; indeed it shall not happen again."
The promise had been made a hundred times before, and broken as often.
Erna smiled, but she was still pale as they walked back to the house.
"A scene from Othello seems to be going on there," said Molly, who,
notwithstanding her great fatigue, had been chattering incessantly, and
observing the lovers the while. "Ernst Waltenberg is perilously like
that monster of a Moor. I believe he would make nothing of a murder if
his jealousy were excited. It is to be hoped that Erna will put a
little common sense into him when they are married; there is very
little of it in his love for her at present. I told him about all sorts
of interesting things that are going on in the capital, as we were
driving over, but he never listened to one of them; he kept his eyes
fixed upon the villa, and rushed out of the barouche the instant it
stopped before the door. Ah! now he is kissing her hand and humbly
begging her pardon. Albert never did that, even while we were
betrothed; on the contrary, I was always the one to be forgiven! Albert
is not sentimentally inclined, nor is your betrothed, Alice. Is your
engineer not coming to-day?"
"I hardly think he will be here," said Alice, allowed for the first
time to interpose a word. "Wolfgang has so much to do; he could only be
here for a few moments yesterday. The responsibilities of his position
are very great."
It sounded composed, too much so for a betrothed maiden who could not
but feel herself neglected. Alice knew nothing as yet of what had taken
place between her father and her lover a week before in the capital.
Wolfgang had refrained from mentioning it even to his friend Reinsfeld;
he wished to leave the president, whose arrival was shortly expected,
to contrive a pretext for the final rupture. Meanwhile, he saw Alice as
seldom as possible, availing himself of the plea of work, which had
sufficed him hitherto.
Frau von Lasberg now made her appearance on the veranda, and greeted
Molly with great dignity and little cordiality. The young Frau was to
remain until the next day, when her husband was to call for her, and
they were to pay a visit at Benno's in Oberstein. Molly played the part
of a hurricane in the quiet and elegant household at the villa; from
the moment of her arrival all formality was scattered to the winds. Her
clear, silvery laughter was heard everywhere; she chatted with Alice,
she teased Erna, she disputed with Waltenberg about Oriental customs of
which she knew absolutely nothing, provoking beyond measure the old
Baroness, and withal fairly beaming with happiness and merriment.
Thus the day wore on to noon, and the golden autumn sunlight tempted
all into the open air. Waltenberg proposed a walk up one of the
neighbouring heights, and all assented; even Alice, who a few months
previously had been debarred from all such enjoyments, was ready to
join the party, while Frau von Lasberg was, of course, obliged to
remain at home. The little company walked leisurely up the gradual
ascent, through the sunlit, fragrant forest, until they reached the
foot of a rocky cliff, where the path became steep and stony.
"You must stop here, Alice," said Erna. "The last part of the way is
too steep and rough; you must be careful not to overtask your strength.
Do you think you are equal to it, Molly?"
"I am equal to anything," declared Molly, half offended at the
question. "Do you suppose that Herr Waltenberg and yourself are the
only mountaineers? I can outclimb either of you."
Waltenberg smiled rather derisively at this audacious statement,
casting a significant glance the while at the speaker's little
high-heeled boots. "There is no danger in this ascent," he said: "the
path is made quite easy with steps and hand-rails here and there. But
then an accident is always possible, as my secretary found to his cost
on the Vulture Cliff. He was lucky to escape with only a sprained
ankle."
"Oh, that immensely tall Herr Gronau!" exclaimed Molly. "What has
become of him? I did not catch even a glimpse of him in Heilborn."
"He asked for leave of absence for a few weeks, but I am now expecting
him back again," replied Ernst, who had, in fact, been rather puzzled
by Veit's long absence. He knew that his secretary had no relatives
left in Germany, and he could not understand his sudden journey. Gronau
had not even told him where he was going.
Alice agreed to await the return of the party; and whilst the others
pursued their way to the summit of the height, she seated herself on a
mossy bit of rock at the foot of the ascent. The spot was a peaceful
little nook in the forest depths which no autumnal blast seemed as yet
to have touched. The dark pines and the soft moss had preserved their
fresh green, and the noonday sun had dispelled the mists which were so
apt to linger here and there among the trees. It was as sunny and warm
as on a day in spring.
Alice had been sitting alone about ten minutes, when she perceived at a
little distance the familiar figure of Dr. Reinsfeld striding along
among the trees. He was coming from a patient at one of the
mountain-cottages, and was so lost in thought that he emerged upon the
little clearing without perceiving the young girl until she called to
him: "Herr Doctor, are you really going to hurry past without even a
look for your patient?"
Benno started at the sound of her voice, and paused in surprise: "You
here, Fraeulein Nordheim, and entirely alone?"
"Oh, I am not so unprotected as you suppose. Herr Waltenberg, with Erna
and Molly, has just left me. I only stayed behind----"
"Because you are tired?" was the anxious question.
She shook her head, smiling: "Oh, no; I only wanted to husband my
strength for the walk back, in accordance with your orders. You see how
obedient I am."
She moved slightly aside, and seemed to expect that the doctor would
take his seat beside her. He hesitated for a few seconds, and then
accepted her unspoken invitation, and sat down upon the mossy
resting-place. They were no longer strangers to each other; in the last
few months they had seen and talked with each other almost daily.
Alice went on conversing cheerfully. There was an innocent delight in
her gaiety, the delight of a freshly-aroused vitality asserting itself,
still half timidly, after years of depressing ill health. No one could
be more childlike and simple-minded than this young heiress, who was so
little adapted to fill the position assigned her by her father's
millions. Here, resting upon her mossy seat, free from all the
splendour and pomp which fatigued her, with the golden sunlight playing
upon the soft blond hair and the delicately-tinted face, there was an
indescribable refinement and charm in her appearance.
The young physician, on the other hand, was unusually grave and silent;
he forced himself to smile and to reply gaily now and then, but the
effort he made was perceptible. Alice observed it at last, and she too
became more silent, until after a long pause, which Reinsfeld made no
attempt to interrupt, she asked, "Herr Doctor, what is the matter?"
"With me?" Benno started. "Oh, nothing,--nothing at all."
"I am afraid that is not quite true. You looked very grave and sad as
you were striding along so hurriedly, and it is not the first time I
have seen you so. For weeks I have fancied that something has been
depressing and troubling you, although you take great pains to conceal
it. Will you not tell me what it is?"
The girl's voice was so entreatingly sweet, and her brown eyes looked
with so sympathetic a glance of inquiry into those of the young
physician, that it was hard to withstand her, and yet Nordheim's
daughter ought to be the last to learn the cause of Reinsfeld's mood.
She had indeed seen aright; Benno had been suffering for weeks under
the burden of the suspicion which Gronau had implanted in his soul.
Nothing indeed had as yet been discovered to confirm it, but Reinsfeld
divined that Veit's sudden departure and prolonged absence were
connected with some clue which was being followed up. He hastily
collected himself, and replied, "I find it hard to leave Oberstein.
Fatiguing as my practice has been sometimes, and much as I have longed
for a more extended sphere of activity, I feel now how attached I have
become to the people whose joys and sorrows I have shared for years,
and to the mountains where I have had my home. I leave so much behind
me that it is hard to go away."
His eyes were cast down as he spoke the last words, or he would have
become aware of the instant change in the girl's face. She turned pale
and her look of innocent gaiety vanished, while the wild-flowers that
she had plucked on her way up the height dropped upon the moss at her
feet. "Is your departure so near at hand?" she asked, gently.
"It is indeed; I am only waiting for my successor to arrive, and he is
expected in a week."
"And then you go--forever?"
"Yes,--forever!"
Question and answer sounded sad enough, and a silence ensued. Alice
stooped and picked up her scattered flowers, beginning to arrange them
mechanically. She knew, of course, of the doctor's acceptance of his
new position, but it had not occurred to her that he would leave before
her own departure, beyond which her thoughts had not strayed. She had
been so happy in the mountains, had resigned herself entirely to the
enjoyment of the present, without a thought that it could come to an
end, and now she was reminded how near at hand was this end.
"I may go without anxiety," Benno began again. "The health of my
district at present leaves nothing to be desired, and you, Fraeulein
Nordheim, need me no longer. Only be careful for some time to come, and
I think I can guarantee your entire recovery. I am very glad to have
been able to keep my promise to my friend and to restore him his
betrothed well and happy."
"If indeed it makes much difference to him," Alice said, in a low tone.
Reinsf----eld looked amazed: "Fraeulein Nordheim?"
"Do you imagine, then, that Wolfgang cares for me? I do not think he
does."
There was no bitterness in her words; they were only sad, and the eyes
which Alice raised to the young physician were as sad.
"You do not believe in Wolfgang's love?" he asked, dismayed. "But why,
then, should he have----" He broke off in the middle of his sentence,
knowing well enough that love had borne no share in his friend's
wooing. He remembered only too distinctly how the young engineer had
coldly determined to win for a wife the president's daughter, and the
contemptuous shrug with which he had repudiated the idea of sentiment
in the affair. It was a speculation,--nothing else.
"I have no fault to find with Wolfgang, none at all," Alice went on.
"He is always most attentive, and so anxious about me, but I feel
nevertheless how little I am to him, and I can see how his thoughts
wander whenever he is with me. Formerly I scarcely perceived this, and
if I did perceive it, it did not hurt me. I was always so weary; I had
no pleasure in life,--it was one long illness for me. But when health
began to relieve me of the oppression that had weighed down soul and
body, I saw, and understood. Wolfgang loves his calling, the future to
which he aspires, his great work, the Wolkenstein bridge, of which he
is so proud. He never will love me!"
Benno for a moment could find no reply to these words, which both
startled and amazed him, from the girl whom he had supposed entirely
indifferent in this matter, and who now thus clearly defined the true
state of affairs.
"Wolf's is not an ardent nature," he said at last, slowly. "With him
ambition outweighs sentiment; it was his character as a boy, and it is
far more evident in the man."
Alice shook her head: "Herr Gersdorf's nature is cool and calm, and yet
how he loves Molly! Awhile ago Ernst Waltenberg cared for nothing save
untrammelled freedom, and see how love has transformed him! Frau
Lasberg, to be sure, says such sentiment is the merest nonsense which
hardly outlives the honey-moon, that there is no such thing as the
enduring affection of a romantic girl's imagination, and that a woman,
if she is wise and hopes for happiness in marriage, must banish all
such ideas from her mind. She may be right, but such wisdom is terribly
depressing. Do you share it, Herr Doctor?"
"No!" said Reinsfeld, with so decided an emphasis that Alice looked up
at him in surprise and with a sad smile.
"Then we are both dreamers and fools, whom sensible people would
despise."
"Thank God that it is so!" Benno broke forth. "Never let 'such
sentiment' be snatched from you, Fraeulein Nordheim; it is all that can
make life happy or even worth the living. Wolf has always prophesied
that I should never come to good, or make myself a fine position in the
world. So be it. I do not care! I am happier than he with all his
wisdom and his schemes. He takes no real pleasure in anything,--sees
nothing anywhere save bare, forlorn reality, transfigured by no ray of
inspiration. I have had a hard life. When my parents died I was knocked
about the world, with scant favour from any one, and sometimes, as a
student, was hard put to it for bread to eat; even now I possess merely
the necessaries of life; but I would not exchange lots with my friend
for all his brilliant future."
He was carried away by his emotion, and did not perceive how his words
accused Wolfgang; nor did Alice appear to take note of it, for she
looked up with sparkling eyes at the young physician, wont to be so
quiet and calm, who seemed for the moment transfigured. Usually shy and
reserved; as is the case with all introspective natures, when once the
barrier of reserve was overleaped he forgot that any such had ever
existed, and went on, with what was almost passionate ardour, "When the
sum of our lives is reckoned up, the gain may after all be mine. I
question whether Wolfgang would not give all the results he has
achieved for one draught from the fountain which flows inexhaustibly
for me. We poor, ridiculed dreamers are, after all, the only happy
human beings, for in spite of all experience we can love with all our
hearts, can hope, and trust, and have faith in truth and goodness. And
whatever of disappointment this world may have in store for us, nothing
can deprive us of the belief in something higher. We attain heights to
which others cannot soar; wings to reach it are worth all their vaunted
worldly wisdom!"
Alice listened in breathless silence to these words, the like of which
she had never heard beneath her father's roof, but which nevertheless
she comprehended at once with the instinct of a warm young heart
thirsting for love and happiness. She did not dream that the
consciousness of the man who spoke thus in eager defence of faith in
all that is best in humanity was burdened with the knowledge of the
bitterest failure in the faith and honour of her own father.
"You are right!" she exclaimed, holding out both hands to him as in
gratitude. "This faith is the highest, the only happiness in life, and
we will not allow it to be snatched from us."
"The only happiness?" Benno repeated, while, scarcely knowing what he
did, he clasped and held fast the hands held out to him. "No, Fraeulein
Nordheim, other joys also await you. Wolfgang's is a noble nature in
spite of his ambition; in time you will learn to understand each other,
and then he will make you truly happy, or he is utterly unworthy of
you. I"--here his voice grew slightly unsteady--"I shall often hear
from him and of his married life,--we are faithful correspondents,--and
sometimes, perhaps, you will allow me to recall myself to your memory."
Alice made no reply; her eyes filled with tears. Unable to conceal the
first profound grief in her young life, at Benno's last words she hid
her face in her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
For Benno this moment was one of intoxicating delight and of intense
pain. Another man might perhaps have forgotten all else in the rapture
of the revelation thus made, but for him Alice was sacred as the
betrothed of his friend; not for the world would he have uttered one of
the thousand expressions of love that rose to his lips. He slowly
retreated a few paces, and said, almost inaudibly, "It is well that I
am to go to Neuenfeld. I have long known how it was with me!"
Neither of the pair had any idea that they were overheard. Just as the
doctor had clasped the young girl's hands in his, the shrubbery at the
foot of the rock had parted, and Molly, who had intended in jest to
startle Alice by her sudden appearance, noiselessly emerged. Her merry
face assumed, however, an expression of extreme surprise upon finding
her friend, whom she had supposed alone, in Benno's society, and in
such evident agitation.
Among the praiseworthy qualities of Frau Gersdorf might be reckoned
intense curiosity. She was instantly eager to know how this interesting
interview would terminate. She therefore retreated unperceived, as
noiselessly as she had appeared, and, hid among the bushes, overheard
all that ensued, until Waltenberg's and Erna's approaching footsteps
became audible as they descended the rocky pathway.
Fortunately, the little lady was not lacking in presence of mind, and,
moreover, since she had before her own marriage peremptorily claimed
Alice's services as guardian angel, she felt called upon now to requite
her after the same manner. So she retreated still farther into the
shrubbery, and then called out aloud to the approaching couple that
she had easily outstripped them. The result was all that could be
desired, and when some minutes later the three new-comers reached the
mountain-meadow, Alice was sitting as they had left her, and Benno,
grave and silent, was standing beside her. Molly was, of course,
immensely surprised at finding her cousin Benno, of whom she
straightway took possession. She was resolved to extort a confession
from him as soon as they should be alone, and from Alice also,--as
guardian angel she had a right to their unreserved confidence.
The little party took its way homewards, and Benno was plied by his
young relative with questions, to which he replied absently and
mechanically, while his eyes sought the slender, delicate figure
walking silently beside Erna; he had not waited until to-day to know
that she was dearer to him than aught else on earth.