The ruins of Gnadeck might well listen in amazement to the strange noise
which had resounded through their crumbling walls from the first peep of
dawn. It was not the familiar sound of destruction caused by furious
storms, or the melting of the snow when spring appeared. Then the water
softly excavated little gutters between the stones, and lifted from its
niche, without any other warning, one block of granite after another,
that, the instant before its final downfall, looked proudly and
threateningly down upon the world; for its overthrow had been planned
more secretly than that of a royal favourite or an unpopular ministry.
And then a violent storm would arise some midnight,--a mighty crash
would come, and the rays of the rising sun would wander for the first
time over walls and floors that they had never touched before. There
would be a huge pile of masonry heaped upon the pavement, and all
through the day, with every gentle breeze, broken bits of mortar and
little rills of sand would trickle down from the wound; but before long,
tender grass would sprout from the jagged edges, and years, long years,
would again ensue before the mischievous water beneath the green garment
would prepare a new victim for the tempest. It was a slow, scarcely
perceptible decline. The ruins might be as easy as the invalid whose
disease, though incurable, may permit him to rival the Old Testament
patriarchs in length of days.
It was human hands to-day that were effecting the work of destruction.
With incredible speed and activity they dislodged stone after stone.
The old jutty, which had advanced so boldly for years, like a valiant
sentinel keeping watch before this wing of the castle, presented a most
deplorable appearance. It had already been shorn of much of its height;
its ivy mantle was torn, and dark window niches and mossy masonry came
to light, which, perhaps, once were rich in stone carving. The workmen
were very diligent. It interested them greatly, hazardous as was their
task, to obtain a glimpse down into the dark nooks and corners of the
old pile, that popular superstition had peopled with countless ghastly
apparitions.
In the afternoon, Frau Ferber was sitting upon the shady rampart with
Miss Mertens and Elizabeth, when Reinhard, who, always made his
appearance at a certain hour of the day, interrupted their reading. He
announced that Linke's body had been committed to the earth as privately
as possible that morning, and that Fraeulein von Walde had learned,
through the carelessness of a servant, of the attempt upon her brother's
life. But he remarked, with some bitterness, that Herr von Walde's
anxiety, lest his sister's fright upon hearing of the assault should
have disastrous consequences, had been wholly unnecessary, since the
lady had heard of it with entire composure, and even the terrible
accident that had befallen Herr von Hartwig, whose wife was one of her
friends, had apparently produced very little impression upon her. "But
if the life of her fair-haired favourite had been in danger," he
declared angrily, "she would most certainly have torn her chestnut
curls. That Herr von Hollfeld is utterly odious to me! He has been
walking about the house to-day, looking as if he would like to poison us
all. I'll wager that this charming mood of his is the cause of
Fraeulein von Walde's red and swollen eyes, which she tried to conceal
from me when I met her in the garden just now."
At the mention of the hated name, Elizabeth bent low over her work. The
blood rushed to her face at the thought of Hollfeld's insolence the day
before, of which she had not yet told her mother, for fear that it might
cause a return of her headache; and perhaps there were other reasons for
her silence; but she would not acknowledge to herself how much she
dreaded lest her parents, upon learning of Hollfeld's rudeness, should
prohibit her from going to Lindhof again, in which case all chance of
seeing Herr von Walde would be at an end.
In the mean time, the destruction of the jutty was going on
uninterruptedly. After awhile Ferber entered the garden. He had been
to the Lodge, and had brought the forester home with him to take coffee.
Ernst came running to them in a great state of excitement. The child
had obediently forborne to transgress the bounds which his father had
set for him, that he might not be exposed to danger; but he had been
looking on from his post of observation, following the progress of the
workmen with the greatest interest.
"Papa! papa!" he cried, "the mason wants to speak to you,--come right
away; he says he has found something!"
And in fact one of the workmen made signs to the brothers to come
nearer.
"We have come to what seems to be a small chamber," the man called down
to them, "and, as well as I can see, there is a coffin in it. Will you
not examine into the matter, Herr Ferber, before we proceed? You can
come up here with entire safety; we have firm foothold."
Reinhard had heard the call and came hastily down the terrace steps. A
concealed apartment, containing a coffin!--the words were music to his
antiquarian ears.
The three men cautiously ascended the ladder.
The workmen were standing just where the huge jutty sprang forth from
the main building, and they pointed down to a tolerably large opening at
their feet. Until now they had come upon no room that had been closed;
the roof of the main building was partly gone, and standing upon this
spot, you could look in all directions through a labyrinth of open
rooms, half ruinous passages, and through great gaps in the floors down
into the castle chapel. The old ruins did not seem half so desolate
from within as from without; the blue heavens peeped in everywhere, and
the fresh breeze swept through as often as it would. But now a space
suddenly appeared at their feet surrounded by firm walls, and covered by
a tolerably well-preserved ceiling. As well as they could judge from
where they stood, the room lay like a wedge between the chapel and the
space behind. At all events, there must be a window somewhere at the
extreme corner formed by the wall of the jutty and that of the main
building, for from that direction a weak reflection streamed in through
coloured glass, and flickered upon the object which was dimly visible,
and which the masons took for a coffin.
Immediately a ladder of greater length was procured, as the room was
quite a high one, and one by one all went down in a state of
highly-wrought expectation. In descending, there was within reach a
wainscoted wall almost black with age. The profusion of strange, rich
carving that adorned it startled the eye. Close to the ceiling a plain
strip of wood, of much more modern date, had been nailed, upon which
were still hanging some rags of black cloth; while the rest of what had
once been the mourning drapery of the apartment lay in mouldering,
shapeless heaps upon the floor.
Doubtless concealment had been the purpose of the room from the
beginning, for there had been no heed paid to symmetry of form in its
construction. It represented an irregular triangle, and in one somewhat
rounded corner was the very small window whose existence they had
suspected. It lay so close to the chapel that Reinhard's supposition
that in old Catholic times the church treasures had been secreted here
seemed most probable; all the more so as on one side five or six worn
stone steps led down to a door in the chapel wall, which had been walled
up from within. The window was just behind the evergreen oak, which
pressed its thick branches against it, and the ivy had twined a tender
lattice-work across the panes; but nevertheless the sun stole through
the coloured glass in the graceful, delicate stone rosette, which was in
a state of perfect preservation.
It was in fact a coffin,--a small, narrow, leaden coffin,--standing out
in strong contrast with the black velvet covering of its pedestal, which
was thus found lonely and forgotten within these three walls. At its
head was a huge candelabrum, in the branches of which were still to be
seen the remains of wax candles; but at its foot was a footstool, upon
which lay a mandolin, its strings all broken. It had been an old
instrument in the hands of its last possessor, for the black colour of
its neck was worn away in spots, and the sounding-board was slightly
hollowed where the player had pressed her little fingers. At the
approach of the intruders the last fragments of the withered heap of
flowers fluttered down from the coffin, upon whose lid in gilt letters
was inscribed the name "Lila."
Set in the thick wall of the most extensive side of the apartment was a
kind of press, of dark oak, which Reinhard at first supposed had been
appropriated to the safe-keeping of the priestly robes and ornaments.
He opened the doors, which stood ajar; as they shook in opening there
was a rustle within, and little clouds of dust flew forth from a
quantity of female garments hanging inside. They formed a strange,
fantastic wardrobe,--gay, and most coquettish in fashion, they
contrasted oddly enough with the grave solemnity of their surroundings.
She who had worn these garments must have been a wonderfully small and
delicate creature, for the silk skirts,--most of them bordered with
embroidery in gold thread,--were as short as though made for a child;
and the shape of the black and violet velvet bodices, with their silken
ribbons and tinsel trimmings, must have fitted an exquisite, pliant,
maiden waist. Many, many years must have elapsed since a human being
had breathed within these walls,--since any hand warm with life had
touched these hidden objects. The hooks in the press had, in some
cases, pierced the mouldering stuffs; and the threads, which had once
confined the pearls and spangles of the trimming, hung loose and broken.
Against one wall was placed a little table with a stone top. Its legs,
grown weak with age, appeared scarcely able to sustain it, and it leaned
forward, endangering the safety of a casket that stood upon it. This
casket was a master-piece of workmanship in ivory and gold. The cover
did not seem to be locked; it looked rather as if it had been lightly
closed, in order to preserve a broad parchment which projected from the
box and had obviously been arranged with the view of attracting
attention. It was yellow with age and covered deep,--as was all
else,--with dust; but the large, stiff, black characters upon it were
distinctly visible, and the name, "Jost von Gnadewitz," was perfectly
legible.
"Good Heavens! what have we here?" cried the forester, whose speech
almost failed him with amazement "Jost von Gnadewitz!--the hero of
Sabina's tale of her great-grandmother!"
Ferber approached the table, and carefully raised the cover of the
casket. Within, upon a dark velvet cushion, lay ornaments of antique
workmanship, bracelets, brooches, a necklace of gold coins, and several
strings of costly pearls.
The parchment had fallen to the ground. Reinhard picked it up, and
offered to read the contents aloud. It was, even for the time when it
had been composed,--about two hundred years before,--very clumsily
written, and very badly spelled. The writer had evidently understood
how to wield the hunting-spear better than the pen,--nevertheless an air
of poesy breathed through the lines. They ran thus:
"Whoever you may be who are the first to enter this room, by all that is
sacred to you, by everything that you love or that has a home in your
heart, do not disturb her repose. She lies there sleeping like a child.
The sweet face beneath the dark curls smiles again now that death has
touched it. Once more, whoever you are, whether noble or beggar,
descendant of hers or not, let my eyes be the last to rest upon her!
"I could not lay her in the dark, cold ground. Here the golden light
will play around her, and birds will alight upon the branches of the
tree outside with the breath of the forest ruffling their feathers,
while the songs that hushed her in her cradle gush from their throats.
"The golden sunlight was quivering in the forest, and the birds were
singing in the trees, when the graceful roe parted the bushes, and gazed
with shy, startled eyes at the young huntsman who was lying in the
shade. His heart beat quickly and wildly at sight of her; he threw his
weapons from him, and pursued the maiden-form that fled before him.
She, the child of the forest, a daughter of that people which the curse
of God pursues making them wanderers upon the face of the earth, with no
home for their weary feet, not a foot of land that they can call their
own whereon to lay their dying heads,--she had vanquished the heart of
the proud, fierce huntsman. Suing for her love, he haunted the camp of
her tribe, day and night; he followed her footsteps like a dog, and
entreated her passionately until she was touched, to leave her people
and fly with him in secret. In the silence of night he bore her away to
his castle, and, alas! became her murderer. He did not heed her
prayers, when she was suddenly seized by the uncontrollable longing for
her forest liberty. As the prisoned bird flutters wildly about its
cage, beating its delicate wings against the confining wires, so she
wandered in despair through the halls which had once resounded to her
intoxicating song and the delicious music of her lute, but which now
only echoed to her sighs and complaints. He saw her cheeks grow pale,
saw her eyes averted from him in hate; his heart died a thousand deaths
when she thrust him from her, and shuddered at his touch; despair
possessed him, but he doubly bolted every door, and guarded them in
deadly terror, for he knew that she was lost to him forever if once
again her foot should press the woodland turf. And then there came a
time when she grew less restless,--'tis true she glided past him as
though he were a shadow, a nothing,--she never lifted her eyes when he
approached her and addressed her in the tenderest tones of entreaty,--it
was long since she had spoken to him, and still no words passed her
lips; but she no longer beat her tiny hands against the window-bars,
tearing her hair, and calling with shrill shrieks upon those who passed
through the forest without, enjoying all the sweets of liberty. She no
longer fled madly, like some hunted thing, through halls and corridors,
nor mounted the castle wall to throw her fair body into the gloomy
waters of the moat. She sat beneath the evergreen oak with a sad,
patient look upon her lily-white face; she knew of the life within her
own,--she was about to become a mother. And when night came, and the
huntsman bore her up the broad stairway in his arms,--she did not
resist, but she turned her face from him, that his breath might not
touch her cheek, that no glance of his loving eyes might fall upon her.
"And one day the pastor of Lindhof came to the castle. The people
declared that Jost, a lamb of his flock, had dealings with the devil,
and he came to rescue the lost soul. He was admitted, and saw the
creature for whose sake the wild huntsman had renounced his merry life
in the forest, and heaven itself. Her beauty and purity touched him.
He spoke to her in gentle tones, and her heart, paralyzed with
suffering, melted at his addresses. For the sake of the child that was
to come, she was baptized, and the unholy tie that had bound her to her
lover was hallowed by the sanction of the church. And when her dark
hour of pain had passed, she pressed her cold lips upon the brow of her
child, and, with that kiss, her spirit burst its bonds,--she was free,
free! The triumph of that moment transfigured the earthly tenement from
which the soul had departed. The wretched man saw those glorious eyes
darken in death; he writhed at her feet in an agony of remorse and
despair, and implored her in vain for only one last glance of love.
"The boy was christened, and received his father's name,--my baptismal
name. I gazed with a shudder into his eyes,--they are my eyes.
Together we have murdered her. My old servant, Simon, has taken the boy
away. I cannot live for him. Simon says, and the pastor also, that no
woman can be found willing to nourish my child at her breast, for, in
the eyes of the people I am lost,--doomed eternally to hell-torments.
The wife of my forester, Ferber, has adopted the child without knowing
whence it comes----"
Here the reader paused, and looked up over the parchment at the
brothers. The forester, who, until now, had been leaning against the
opposite wall listening with the greatest attention, suddenly stood by
his side, and clutched his arm convulsively. The colour left his
sun-burnt cheeks for one moment. It seemed as if his heart ceased to
beat, so great was his agitation. And Ferber also drew near, testifying
in his face and gestures extreme surprise.
"Go on, go on!" cried the forester at last, in stifled accents.
"Simon laid him upon the threshold of the forest lodge," Reinhard read
further, "and to-day he saw Ferber's wife kissing and tending him like
her own little girl. By the laws of my family, he has no claim upon the
Gnadewitz estate, but my maternal inheritance will preserve him from
want. My directions I have confided, in a sealed packet, deposited in
the town-house at L----, to the public authorities. They will
substantiate his claim to be my son and heir. May he, as Hans Jost von
Gnadewitz, found a new race. The Almighty will provide kind hearts to
protect his youth,--I cannot.
"Everything which adorned that lovely form in happier days shall
surround it in death, and yield to the same decay. Her child has a
claim upon her jewels, but my heart revolts at the thought that what has
rested upon her dazzling brow, her pure neck, may perhaps be torn
asunder and desecrated by faithless hands. Better to leave all here to
fade and fall to ruin.
"Once more I implore you, whom chance may lead to this sanctuary, after
the lapse of centuries perhaps,--honour the dead, and pray for me,
"JOST VON GNADEWITZ."
The two brothers clasped each other's hands, and, without a word,
approached the coffin. In their veins flowed the blood of that strange
being who had once kindled to a flame the heart of the fierce, proud
lord of the castle,--of that woman whose ardent soul, thirsting for
freedom, exultingly fled from the idolized body which had crumbled to a
little heap of ashes here in its narrow leaden tomb. Two tall figures
stood there, descendants of him who, with his dying mother's
consecrating kiss upon his brow, was borne out into the forest, and laid
upon the low threshold of a servant, while his nobly-born father,
despair in his heart, rushed madly to death.
"She was the mother of our race," Ferber said at last, with much
emotion, to Reinhard. "We are the descendants of the foundling whose
parentage has been a mystery until this hour, for the papers which would
have established him in his rights were destroyed when the townhouse at
L---- was burned down. We must suspend work here for a few days," he
said, turning to one of the masons, who, prompted by a pardonable
curiosity, had descended the ladder half way, and, from this post of
observation, had listened in speechless amazement to the unfolding of a
tale which would afford a subject for winter evenings in the large,
peasant spinning-rooms, for a long time to come.
"Instead, you must prepare a grave to-morrow in the church-yard at
Lindhof," the forester called up to him; "I will speak to the pastor
about it afterwards."
He went again to the press, and looked at the garments that had once
enveloped the delicate limbs of the gypsy maiden, and had evidently been
adjusted with great care, that they might recall the times when they had
been seen upon the beautiful Lila by the enraptured eyes of her lover.
Upon the floor of the press were ranged shoes. The forester took up a
pair of them; they were scarcely longer than the width of his broad
hand,--only Cinderella's feet could ever have worn them.
"I will take these to Elsie," he said, smiling, holding them carefully
between his forefinger and thumb, "she will be surprised to find what a
Liliputian her ancestress was."
Meanwhile Ferber, after brushing the dust from the mandolin, took it
carefully under his arm, while Reinhard closed the jewel-box and lifted
it from the table by the exquisitely wrought handle on the lid. Thus
the three men ascended the ladder again. Arrived at the top, all the
boards that they could procure were placed over the opening, so as to
afford a temporary protection from wind and rain, and then they
descended from their perilous position upon the summit of the ruin.
Below, the ladies had been awaiting them for some time, in a state of
great expectation, and were not a little surprised at the strange
procession that descended the ladder. But not one word did they learn
of what had been seen or heard, until the whole party were once more
seated beneath the linden. Then Reinhard placed the casket upon the
table, described minutely the hidden apartment and its contents, and, at
last producing the parchment, read again what we have already learned;
of course with far greater fluency than before.
In breathless silence the ladies listened to these outpourings of a
passionate, burning heart. Elizabeth sat pale and still; but when
Reinhard came to the words that suddenly threw such a glare of light
upon the dim past of her family, she started up, and her eyes rested in
speechless surprise upon the smiling face of her uncle, who was
observing her narrowly. Even Frau Ferber sat for awhile after the
reader had finished, fairly dumb with amazement. To her clear, calm
mind, accustomed to reason carefully, this romantic solution of family
questions, which had been unanswered for centuries, was almost
incomprehensible. But Miss Mertens, to whom the whole bearing of the
discovery was explained by Ferber, as she did not even know the story of
the foundling, clapped her hands above her head at such a revelation.
"And does not this parchment give you a claim to your inheritance?" she
asked quickly and eagerly.
"Undoubtedly," replied Ferber, "but how can we tell in what that
maternal inheritance consisted? The family has died out, the very name
of Gnadewitz is extinct. Everything has passed into strange hands; who
can tell to what we may lay claim?"
"No, let all that rest," said the forester with decision; "such matters
cost money, and in the end we might come into possession of only a few
thalers. Oh no! let it go! We have not starved yet."
Elizabeth musingly took up the shoes which her uncle had placed before
her. The faded silk of which they were made was torn here and there,
and showed perfectly the shape of the foot. They had been much worn,
but not apparently upon the soil of the forest; the soles showed no
traces of such contact; probably they had covered the restless feet at
the time of her imprisonment, "when she fled madly through halls and
corridors like some hunted thing."
"Aha! Elsie, now we know where you got your slender waist and those
feet that trip over the sward, scarcely bending the blades of grass,"
said her uncle. "You are just such a forest-butterfly as your
ancestress, and would flutter just so against the bars of your cage if
you were shut up within locked doors; there is gypsy blood in your veins
were you ten times Gold Elsie and though your skin is like a snowdrift.
There, put on those things, you will find that you can dance in them
easily."
"Oh no, uncle," cried Elizabeth deprecatingly, "they seem to me like
sacred relics; I could not put them on without fearing that Jost's fiery
black eyes might suddenly glare out at me."
Frau Ferber and Miss Mertens agreed with her, and the former declared
that in her opinion the press, with all that it contained, ought to be
carefully removed to some quiet, dry place, where it might be preserved
untouched as a family relic until it fulfilled its destiny, which was to
decay with all else that is mortal.
"Well, with regard to the press, let it be as you say," Reinhard here
interposed; "but it seems to me that a different fate should await these
articles."
He opened the casket. The sunlight penetrating, its interior came
flashing back in a thousand sparkling rays, dazzling the eyes that
looked on. Reinhard took out a necklace,--it was very broad, and of
admirable design.
"These are brilliants of the purest water," he explained to the
rest,--the necklace was set thick with precious stones,--"and these
rubies here must have gleamed magnificently from the dark curls of the
beautiful gypsy girl," he continued, as he took two pins from their
velvet cushion with heads formed like lily-cups of red stones, from
which chains, set thick with rubies, fell like a glittering little
shower.
Elizabeth, smiling, held a costly agraffe above her forehead.
"And so you think, Herr Reinhard," she said, "that we should let all
reverence for the past go, and recklessly adorn ourselves with these
jewels? What would my white muslin dress say if I should some day
introduce it into such distinguished society?"
"The brilliants are exquisitely becoming to you," replied Reinhard,
smiling; "but to my mind a nosegay of fresh flowers would be far more
suitable with the white muslin; and therefore I should advise that these
precious stones be transformed at the jeweller's into shining coin."
Ferber nodded assentingly.
"What! Reinhard," cried Miss Mertens, "do you think these family jewels
should be sold?"
"Certainly," he replied; "it would be both foolish and sinful to let
such capital lie idle. The stones alone must be worth full seven
thousand thalers, and then there are these very fine pearls, and this
wrought gold, which will bring a very clever little sum besides."
"Zounds!" exclaimed the forester; "let them go then on the spot,----See,
Adolph," he continued more gently, and rested his arm upon his brother's
shoulder, "Heaven has been kind to you here. Did I not tell you that
all would go smoothly with you in Thuringia, although I never dreamed
that eight thousand thalers were waiting for you?"
"For me?" cried Ferber with surprise. "Does it not all belong to you as
the elder?"
"None of that! What, in Heaven's name, should I do with the trash? Am
I to begin to invest capital in my old days? I think I see myself at
such work! I have neither chick nor child in the world, hold an
excellent office,--and when my old bones fail me, there is a pension for
me, which, try as I may, I shall never be able to spend. Therefore I
resign my birthright in favour of the girl with the golden hair and
Ernst, the rogue, who shall perpetuate our stock; I will not even have a
mess of lentil pottage in exchange, for Sabina says it is not good with
venison. Don't touch me!" he cried, with a comic gesture of refusal,
clasping his hands behind him, as Frau Ferber, with tears in her eyes,
came to him with outstretched arms, and his brother would have
remonstrated with him. "It would be much better for you, sister-in-law,
to go and see about our coffee. It is really past hearing! four o'clock
and not a drop of the usual refreshments, for the sake of which I
dragged myself up here."
He accomplished his aim in diverting from himself all grateful
acknowledgments. Frau Ferber hastened into the house, accompanied by
Elizabeth, and the others laughed. The whole party were soon seated
upon the terrace, busy with the brown, fragrant beverage.
"Yes, yes," said the forester, leaning comfortably back in his chair; "I
never thought, when I awoke this morning, that I should lie down at
night a Herr von Gnadewitz. I shall gain a step in my profession, of
course, instantly; that yellow parchment, with its crooked letters, has
done for me in an instant what thirty years of hard service have failed
to accomplish. As soon as his Highness arrives in L---- I shall make my
best bow, and introduce myself by my new name. Zounds! how those people
will stare!"
A peculiar side glance was directed, as these words were spoken, towards
Elizabeth, and at the same moment the speaker puffed away at his pipe so
vigorously that his face was quite concealed by a thick cloud of smoke.
"Uncle," cried his niece, "say what you will, I know that you can never
intend to patch up again the shattered crest of the Gnadewitzes."
"I can't see why not, 'tis a beautiful coat of arms, with chevrons,
stars----"
"And a wheel covered with blood," interrupted Elizabeth. "God forbid
that we should swell the number of those who revive the sins of their
ancestors to prove the antiquity of their race, and thus make nobility
ignoble,--nothing in the world seems to me more detestable. I should
think that all those who have been tortured and hunted down in life by
that pitiless, haughty race, would arise, like accusing ghosts, from
their graves, if the name should ever be revived, beneath whose shelter
such oppression and tyranny existed for centuries. When I compare the
two fathers,--one seeking death like a coward, never considering for an
instant that his poor child had the most sacred claims upon him; the
other, a poor servant, taking the outcast compassionately to his heart,
and bestowing upon it his own honest name,--then I know well which was
the noble, which name deserves to be perpetuated. And think what sorrow
that haughty race has caused my poor, dear mother."
"True enough, true enough," Frau Ferber declared with a sigh--"in the
first place, I owe to it a stormy, unhappy childhood, for my mother was
a beautiful, amiable girl, whom my father married against the will of
his relatives, who could not forgive her ignoble extraction. This
misalliance was a source of endless suffering and annoyance to my poor
mother, for my father had not sufficient strength of character to break
with the chief of the Gnadewitz family, and live only for his wife.
This weakness on his part was the cause of constant strife between my
parents, which I could not but be cognizant of. And we"--here she held
out her hand across the table to her husband--"we can never forget all
we had to contend with before we could belong to each other. I would
not for the world return to the class who so often ruthlessly stifle
every warm, humane sentiment, that outward rank and show may be
preserved."
"And you never shall return, Marie," said her husband, with a smile, as
he pressed her hand. He glanced mischievously at his brother, who was
still puffing forth immense clouds of smoke, while he was doing his
best, most unsuccessfully, to keep up the frown upon his brow.
"Ah! my fine plans," he sighed at last, with a comical look of
disappointment. "Elsie, you are a cruel, foolish creature. You forget
what a fine life we should lead, if I had a position at court, and you
were a fine lady. There, does not that tempt you?"
Elizabeth shook her head, smilingly, but most decidedly
"And who knows," added Miss Mertens, "but that, before we could turn
round, some noble knight, of stainless lineage, would bear away from old
Gnadeck our high-born Elsie as his wife!"
"Do you think I would go with him?" cried Elizabeth, indignantly, her
cheeks aglow.
"And why not?--if you loved him."
"No, never," replied the girl in a suppressed voice, "not even if I
loved him,--for I should then be all the more wretched in the
consciousness that the prestige of my name had weighed heavier in the
balance than my heart, that in the eyes of that man all aspiration after
spiritual elevation and moral excellence was worthless in comparison
with a phantom, which the miserable prejudices of men had tricked out
with tinsel."
Frau Ferber gazed with surprise at her daughter, whose face showed
evident signs of deep emotion. The forester, on the other hand, held
his pipe firmly between his teeth, and clapped his hands loudly.
"Elsie, child of gold!" he cried at last, "give me your hand! that's my
brave girl! true metal, through and through! Yes, I say, too, God keep
me from swelling the number of those who give up an honest name for the
sake of their own personal advantage. No, Adolph, we will not cast
scorn upon the parish register of the little Silesian village where we
were christened; we will go on writing our names as they are written
there."
"And as they have faithfully clung to us in joy and sorrow for half a
century," added Ferber with his quiet smile, "I will keep this document
for this fellow," and he laid his hand upon little Ernst's curly head,
"until his judgment is clear and ripe. I cannot and must not decide for
him, but I trust I shall train him so that he will prefer to carve out a
path for himself by his own energy, rather than to lie idly in the
hot-bed of old traditions and wrongs enjoying privileges which should be
the reward only of lofty endeavour. The Gnadewitzes in their long
career added nothing to the world, but took much from it; let them
moulder in their graves, and their high-sounding, undeserved titles with
them!"
"Selah!" cried the forester, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "And now
let us go," he said to his brother, "and advise with the Lindhof pastor.
A spot beneath the beautiful lindens in our village church-yard seems to
me infinitely preferable to those three gloomy walls, within which the
mother of our line has lain for so long; and that the 'dark, cold
ground' may not touch her coffin, let us have a grave built in the earth
and closed with a tombstone."
He departed, accompanied by Ferber and Reinhard, and, whilst her mother
and Miss Mertens were putting the jewel-box away in a place of security,
Elizabeth climbed the ladder placed against the ruined jutty, pushed
aside the boards, and descended into the secret chamber. A slender ray
of the setting sun touched a ruby pane in the little window and threw a
bloody stain upon the name "Lila," on the lid of the coffin. Elizabeth,
with head bowed and hands clasped, stood for a long while beside the
lonely bier, whereon that burning heart had slept undisturbed since the
moment when death had stilled its wild beating and ended its sorrow.
Centuries had flown by, effacing, as if they had never existed, all the
transporting charm of that short life,--all the stormy emotion which had
worked its ruin,--and yet the young heart that was throbbing restlessly
in that chamber of death beside that bier, fancied that the emotions
causing it to throb so wildly could never die.