MIDSUMMER EVE AGAIN.
Almost three years had passed since the terrible avalanche wrought
such ruin, and glorious sunshine made glad the hearts of the
mountaineers on the day preceding Midsummer-eve,--the day of the
festival celebrating throughout the Wolkenstein district the opening of
the new mountain-railway. All the villages on the line of travel, now
promoted to the dignity of railway-stations, were gaily decked with
green wreaths and fluttering flags, and crowds of mountaineers in their
Sunday costumes had come from far and near among the mountains to
behold with curiosity and wonder the arrival of the first train. The
iron road, at last completed, was to bring prosperity to their secluded
valleys.
At first, when the terrible catastrophe still struck terror to the
minds of all who heard of it, there had been a doubt as to whether the
upper stretch of the railway, that passing through the Wolkenstein
district, could ever be completed. Consultations with the company had
gone on for months, until finally the energy and persistence of the
engineer-in-chief had been victorious: the work had been taken up once
more, and it was now happily concluded.
Station Oberstein, situated near the village itself, at the end of the
Wolkenstein bridge, was especially conspicuous in its decorations. The
train, bringing the engineer-in-chief and his wife, with the directors
of the road, and a number of invited guests, was to make a stop here,
and a particularly grand reception had been devised. The crowds from
the country around were greater here than elsewhere, and cannon were to
be fired from a neighbouring height.
In the midst of the gay multitude Veit Gronau's tall figure was
conspicuous. He looked more tanned and weather-beaten than ever, but
otherwise was unchanged. Ernst Waltenberg had provided generously in
his will for his former secretary; he was free to live as he chose, but
the old love of a wandering life had driven him forth into the world
again, and after nearly three years' of absence he had returned for
another glimpse of his European home.
"And so Dr. Reinsfeld is to give a grand dinner in his villa to the
directors," he said to himself, as he stood on the railway-platform
looking out for the train. "I am really curious to see how my good
Benno conducts himself as a millionaire. Probably he is quite
uncomfortable; but he will have to get used to it, for Gersdorf wrote
to me that a million had been rescued out of the wreck of Nordheim's
colossal fortune."
"There it comes!" The shout interrupted his reflections; the crowd
pressed forward eagerly and stretched their necks to see the first
train, which came gliding from the depths upon the narrow iron road. It
vanished for a few moments in the tunnel below Oberstein, and then,
appearing once more, rolled smoothly onward, the smoke from the
gaily-decorated locomotive floating backward like a pennon. Anon it
thundered over the bridge, and was greeted at the Oberstein station by
a burst of music, by loud shouts of welcome, and by the cannon-shots
from the height, wakening the echoes from all the mountains around.
The train was emptied at the station, but almost half an hour elapsed
before the party could drive to the villa, for first of all the glory
of the road, the Wolkenstein bridge, had to be inspected. The bold,
gigantic structure had arisen from ruin; as proudly as before it
spanned the chasm from rock to rock. Below it in the giddy depths
rushed the stream with all its old impetuosity, and above it the
Wolkenstein reared its mighty crest aloft, wearing to-day a light crown
of clouds. But upon the declivity, where before had stood the enclosed
forest, there was now a broad, solid wall of masonry, a sure protection
against any repetition of the former disaster.
The engineer-in-chief, with his young wife on his arm, acted as guide
to the inspecting party. Of course he was the hero of the day, and was
overwhelmed on all sides by congratulations and expressions of
admiration. He received them gravely, seeming but little elated by
them.
Erna, on the other hand, was beaming with happiness and gratified
pride; her eyes sparkled as she listened to all that was said to her
husband, and she had a kindly word and a friendly greeting for all who
pressed forward to welcome her.
The pair were obliged to do the honours of the new road without the aid
of Dr. Reinsfeld, who, as husband of the late president's heiress, was
a very important personage on this occasion, but quite averse to
performing his duties as such. He no longer wore the antique coat and
saffron-coloured gloves in which he had made acquaintance with the
invalid Alice; his attire was faultless, but nevertheless it was easy
to see that his task for the day was held by him to be very difficult
of performance. He confined himself to bowing and shaking hands,
keeping as much as possible in the background, when suddenly a familiar
voice accosted him: "Does Dr. Reinsfeld do me the honour to remember
me?"
"Veit Gronau!" exclaimed the doctor, delightedly, offering his hand.
"Then you received our invitation in time. But why did you not let us
know you had arrived, so that you might have come in the train with
us?"
"I came by the way of Heilborn, and was just in time to receive you. I
congratulate you, Benno, upon your share in this occasion."
"Yes,--a dinner for eighty people," sighed Benno. "Wolfgang thought it
would be suitable for me to give a dinner to the party, and when Wolf
takes a thing into his head one had best submit."
"He certainly was right this time," Gronau said, laughing. "As
principal stockholder and director of the company you were bound to do
something for the opening of the railway."
"If I only did not have to talk to everybody!" the poor doctor
lamented. "And worse than all, I ought, he says, to make an
after-dinner speech. I cannot. Wolfgang built the railway, let him make
the speeches. He did, to be sure, speak to-day before we set out, and
it was charming; every one was delighted,--his wife most of all. Does
she not look exquisitely lovely?"
Veit nodded, but his face grew grave as he looked across at Erna. That
beauty had driven another man to his death; Ernst Waltenberg would have
given his hope of heaven for such a look as she was bestowing upon her
husband at that moment. Gronau turned from such thoughts to ask after
the health of Frau Reinsfeld.
"Oh, Alice is as blooming as a rose, and you must see our daughter."
Benno's face glowed as he spoke of his wife and child. "You knew
of----"
"Of your little one? Yes, you wrote me. I suppose you confine your
practice entirely to your family now?"
"On the contrary, I have more patients than ever," the doctor declared.
"When we are here in summer of course I attend all my old friends; and
since I can now supply the poorer ones with all that they need----"
"Why, of course the honest Wolkensteiners continue to work you to
death," Gronau finished the sentence. "But I must no longer detain you
from your guests."
"Oh, stay; pray stay!" Benno exclaimed, with a comical look of alarm.
"I am so comfortable here in the corner with you, and if you go I shall
be obliged to talk to some of these celebrities, to whom I positively
have nothing whatever to say."
Gronau laughed and stayed, but it was of no avail. Gersdorf, with Frau
Molly upon his arm, made his appearance, and Elmhorst came hurrying
towards them to carry off the luckless host, since the distinguished
party were getting into the carriages to drive to the villa, where
Alice was waiting to receive them. She was still a delicate creature in
appearance, although in perfect health, and she had never lost a
certain maidenly shyness of manner which was her great charm. The
dignity of the household was admirably maintained by Frau von Lasberg,
who had never left her former pupil.
The entertainment to-day left nothing to be desired. Poor Benno finally
made his speech; of course he all but broke down in it, but it was
fortunately just at the end, and Wolfgang at the critical moment signed
to the musicians to strike up.
An hour afterwards the guests departed, conducted to the station by
Elmhorst and his wife, who were, however, to return to pass several
days with Reinsfeld and Alice at the villa.
Benno betook himself to the nursery, where the young mother was seated
beside the cradle of their little daughter. He carried in his hand a
bunch of Alpine roses: "It is Midsummer-eve, Alice; I had to bring you
the wonted bouquet."
"Did you really remember it in all the confusion of the day?" the young
mother asked, with a smile.
One never forgets a prophecy of happiness, least of all when it has
been fulfilled. He handed her the flowers with,--
"Do not refuse it,--
Our offering of flowers,
And midsummer's blessings
Fall on you in showers."
* * * * *
Evening had fallen when the engineer-in-chief and his wife stood on the
platform of the Oberstein station, watching the departing train as it
vanished in the tunnel beyond the bridge. "I have sent away the
carriage, Erna," said Wolfgang. "I thought we would walk back, the
evening is so fine, and we have not been alone once before to-day."
"And what a delightful day it has been!" said Erna, as she put her arm
through her husband's. "Only you were so grave, Wolf, in the midst of
your triumph, and you are so still."
He smiled, but his voice was grave as he replied, "I could not but
remember how dearly the triumph has been bought, as only you and I can
know. You have been my sole confidante, my only refuge, inspiring me
with courage and ability when all sorts of petty intrigue nearly drove
me insane. If you had not been beside me I could not have persevered."
"Yes, nothing could have been more trying for a nature like yours than
to be so thwarted and harassed on all sides as you have been; but you
have come off conqueror at last."
"And Benno has been such a help in placing everything in my hands as
soon as he was Alice's husband. I never can forget it of him."
"But he owes you more than he can repay," Erna interposed. "Think of
how you worked for Alice after my uncle's death. They owe it to you
that they are still wealthy."
As she spoke, the departed train, having passed through the tunnel, was
visible like a black thread winding among the distant mountains, which
softly echoed back the whistle of the locomotive through the quiet
evening air. Wolfgang paused and drew a deep breath:
"Now she is quelled, the evil Force above there. She has given me
trouble enough. Look, Erna, the last clouds are floating off from the
throne of your Alpine Fay. She seems to unveil completely only on
Midsummer-eve."
A shadow passed across Erna's happy face, and there were tears in her
eyes as she said, looking up at the Wolkenstein, "One other conquered
her, but he had to pay with his life the price of his victory."
"Rather of a foolhardy attempt that could benefit no one." Elmhorst's
voice sounded harsh. "He risked his life, and found what he sought. Can
you never forget him, Erna?"
She shook her head: "Do not be unjust. Wolf, nor jealous of the dead.
You know well whom I have always loved. But it is impossible for you
with your practical energy of character to comprehend a nature like
Ernst's."
"Possibly; we were too diametrically antagonistic to be just to each
other. But no more of him to-day, Erna; your memory and your thoughts
to-day belong to me. The first height is surmounted; with the
completion of the Wolkenstein railway a sure foundation is laid for my
future. But the path was a difficult one."
"And yet it was delightful, in spite of cliffs and chasms," Erna
declared. "Was I not right, Wolf? It is so fine to ascend from below,
to feel your strength increase with every step onward, with every
obstacle overcome, and at last to stand above on the height, conscious
of victory, as you are now!"
"And with my best beloved beside me," Elmhorst added, with passionate
tenderness. "You came to me in the darkest hour of my life, when
everything about me was crumbling to ruin, and with you my lost fortune
returned to me. Now I can hold it fast and pursue my way to loftier
goals."
The night fell slowly, the sacred old Midsummer night with its breath
of mystery. It was not filled as on that other night with dreamy
moonlight, but a clear starlit sky arched above the mountains, which
began to glow here and there with the beacon-fires,--the largest, as of
old, kindled upon the slope of the Wolkenstein. It flashed abroad over
the realm of the Alpine Fay,--her conquered realm, into which human
will had broken a pathway in spite of all her terrors, and in which it
had come off victorious in a strife with the blind fury of the
elements. The work was finished,--the iron road wound secure among the
mountains, the huge bridge spanned the dizzy chasm, and the
Wolkenstein, unveiled, looked down upon it all. One brilliant star
gleamed just above its peak upon the brow of the Alpine Fay.
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 1: "Cloud-stone."]
THE END.