"Allons, Enfants de la Patrie!
Le jour de gloire est arrivé!"
So sang Wagner from the _Marseillaise_ at the top of his voice, as he
beat a tattoo on the door of my bedroom to awaken me; and he passed on
to each door, beating the same refrain.
We should have to dress very quickly, as we must climb a mountain and
reach the summit before noon, if we wished to breakfast there.
This mountain was called the Axenstein. We commenced the ascent on
foot, on a lovely day, under a sunshine already warm. The way at the
beginning was charming, and mounted very slowly between trees and
bushes, like a garden path.
Senta ran on before and gathered little wild flowers; very soon she
gave a cry of joy. She had just discovered some strawberries. Surely
enough, there were wild strawberries reddening under the leaves here
and there. We also, Madam Cosima and I, were intent upon finding them;
but Wagner, already far in advance, called out to us not to linger,
and so, by a path grown more rugged and without any shade, we hurried
on. My companion seemed very tired and almost fainting. I made her sit
down on a grassy hillock, and after inhaling some salts, she recovered
herself quickly.
"Do not speak of it. Above all, do not let the Master know," she said.
Then she told me that she had been more or less ailing and feeble since
the birth of Siegfried, her son, whom she had not yet presented to me.
"Wagner, who is indefatigable, always supposes that one has strength
to follow him, and would be inconsolable if he were to know that he
is mistaken. That is why it is necessary to triumph over weakness and
continue the ascent."