Aunt Ursul sat at Catherine's bed in the room carefully noticing every
motion of the young girl who lay there, pale, with closed eyes, half
asleep as it appeared. She repeatedly felt her pulse, and renewed the
cold cloths on her forehead. She then again bent over her, listened to
her quiet breathing, then bowed satisfied and murmured: "There's
nothing more to be done here now. We will now look after the young
man."
She arose and retired, as quietly as her heavy boots would permit, from
the chamber, her face expressing displeasure as the door creaked a
little, though she shut it very softly. Lambert, who had been sitting
at the hearth, raised his head and looked at her who was entering with
anxious eye. Aunt Ursul sat down by his side, placed her feet firmly on
the hearth, and said, in a tone intended to be a whisper, but on
account of her deep, rough voice was a dull growl:
"No, Lambert, on that side"--she at the same time inclined her large
head toward the chamber--"so far it goes quite well. The girl is a
brave child, and will to-morrow again stand firm in her shoes. If we
women should at once discover your stupidities we would have much to
do."
Lambert seized the hand of the kind woman. Tears stood in his eyes.
Aunt Ursul did not know how it happened, but her eyelashes also became
moist. She breathed deeply two or three times, and said: "You ought to
be ashamed, Lambert. You really have a heart like a young chicken, and
now it occurs to me that I have eaten nothing the whole day. Give me a
piece of bread and some ham, or whatever you have, and if there is yet
a swallow of rum in the flask it won't do any hurt--but add to it
two-thirds water. A well-behaved person will not otherwise drink the
fiery stuff. And now we will once have a little rational talk, Lambert.
We need not be in a hurry. The girl sleeps so soundly that she will not
wake under six hours."
Lambert had taken what was wanted out of the cupboard. Aunt Ursul moved
her chair to the table, and while she was eating heartily, said:
"Do you know, Lambert, that the girl is a treasure?"
Lambert bowed.
"And that neither you, nor Conrad, nor any man in this earthly vale of
tears, is good enough for the maiden?"
Lambert's eyes said: "Yes."
"I have now for the first time carefully looked at her," said Aunt
Ursul; "as she lay there, white and bloody, like the doves this
morning. There is not one false or distorted line in her lovely face.
Everything is entire purity and innocence, as though the Lord God
had opened a window in heaven and sent her forth upon the earth. And
now to think that such a lovely angel is destined to all the suffering
and anguish which is our inheritance from our mother Eve--Good God,
it is dreadful! Since, rightly considered, Lambert, you cannot help
it, as you did not make the world, and are all in all a good man,
Lambert--yes, a right good man--what Aunt Ursul can do to smooth the
way to your happiness that she will do with all her heart. Yes, surely,
Lambert, that she will."
"I thank you, aunt," replied Lambert. "I can truly say that I have
always been persuaded of your good will, and have constantly reckoned
on you, but I am afraid that now nobody can any longer help us. How
shall I stand with her before God's altar when I know that my brother
begrudges me my happiness? Even could I do so, Catherine could not bear
the thought that it is she on whose account Conrad is irreconcilably
angry. She knows how I have loved the young man--how I still love
him. I could shed my blood for him, and how did he renounce us even
now--even now?"
Lambert supported his forehead with his hand. On Aunt Ursul's rough
face there also lay a deep, helpless sadness. She wished to say
something comforting to Lambert, but found nothing to say. Lambert
proceeded:
"I am not angry at him. How could I be? You know, aunt, that we were
long uncertain whether he or I should go to New York, since he had less
to keep him, and we thought it would do him good to get out among other
people. Then he would have found Catherine, and he would surely have
dealt just as I did; and who knows how everything would then have
fitted itself in?"
Aunt Ursul shook her large head.
"Do not sin against yourself, Lambert," said she. "I have always found
that, rightly weighed, everything had to come out just as it did come
out, and with this we pause."
"I, also, cannot conceive how it could have been different," replied
Lambert. "As far as I can see, my hand has been little in this, and yet
I might even surrender her could I thus bring Conrad back."
"And I my two hands and my head in addition," said Aunt Ursul, "could I
by that means bring it about that my four boys might enter the door
alive. Lambert, Lambert! let me tell you, 'if' and 'but' are very fine
things, but one must keep them away from him or he will get crazy over
them. I have had experience of it in myself and in my old man."
"But Conrad is not dead," said Lambert, "so all hope cannot be lost. I
had also lost my head. I did not know what I said or did. He was
without this already unhappy enough. Alas, aunt, I am also to blame. I
would gladly tell him that. I would like to talk right into his heart.
He has hitherto always been willing to listen to me. What do you
advise, aunt?"
"What should I advise?" said Aunt Ursul fretfully. "It is always the
old story: First you set the world on its head, and then you come
running and cry: 'What do you advise, aunt?' Am I God? Many times there
seems to be need of it. No, Lambert, in that you are indeed right.
Conrad is not yet dead, and so we need not throw away our guns into the
grain-field. But it will not do to pour out the child with the water in
which you have bathed it. To pour oil into the fire increases the
blaze. Should you now go to Conrad it would not be well. You can't
gather ripe figs from a thorn-bush. In due time one can pick roses,
Lambert, in due time."
Aunt Ursul repeated her last words several times as though she would
thus help her inability to advise.
"But time is pressing," said Lambert. "Who knows how soon we shall have
the French here?--Perhaps to-morrow. My God! to-morrow should be our
wedding day."
He told his aunt what arrangement he had made with the minister.
"Yes, yes; man proposes, but God disposes," said Aunt Ursul. "We can
now say nothing about tomorrow. This thing will probably not get so far
as that by to-morrow. What concerns the other I will make my care,
Lambert. Whether the maiden comes to me, or I to her, will be about the
same in the minister's eyes, to say nothing about God, who has
something better to attend to than to trouble himself about such
hocus-pocus. I am here beforehand. I would gladly have looked after my
old man, who was today quite desperate and heathenish, but if it must
be I too will stay. There must be some one to lead the regiment when it
comes. Still there, Pluto! What does the beast mean? I believe the
young men are coming already. You look after them, Lambert. I will
meanwhile look after the girl; and Lambert, if they are there, keep
them before the house. The night is warm and you can keep watch there.
Whoever wishes to sleep can come in here and lie down on the hearth,
but I want him to be as still as a mouse."
Aunt Ursul went into the room. Lambert stepped to the front door and
quieted the growling Pluto. He listened, and now clearly heard the
steps of his comrades. Soon their forms emerged out of the light fog
which had spread over the fields near the creek, though the moon
already stood at some height over the woods. There were three of them.
Lambert's heart beat. He expected only Fritz Volz and Richard Herkimer.
Was Conrad the third? Surely, surely it must be Conrad.
But out of Pluto's broad chest sounds like rolling thunder now broke
forth. Did not the intelligent and faithful beast know her own master?
Lambert with great eagerness went to meet those who were coming.
"God bless you, Lambert," said Richard Herkimer.
"God bless you, Lambert," said Fritz Volz.
The third one had remained a few steps behind.
"Who is the other one?" asked Lambert with trembling voice.
"Guess," said Richard laughing.
"The crazy fellow," said Fritz Volz.
"He would go with us, though Annie herself thought that he would not
fire away his powder for nothing," said Richard.
"Is it Adam Bellinger?" asked Lambert.
"Now come up, you hare's foot," said Fritz Volz.
"Are you holding the dog?" asked Adam, with uncertain voice.
Richard and Fritz laughed, but Lambert could not join them, as he might
have done at another time. Adam instead of Conrad! What could have
moved the silly fellow to such night-wandering except the desire again
to be near Catherine? What would his friends think of Catherine? What
would not the talkative Adam have told them on the way.
"Come a little nearer," said Richard, having taken Lambert's arm as
they were walking toward the house. "I want to say a few words to you.
You must not be angry, Lambert, that we brought Adam along. He would
not be set right. Heaven knows what has come into his calf's head. We
could have made nothing out of his crazy talk, but the ladies lit the
candle so that it shone bright enough. That you--Nay, Lambert, old boy,
I wish you happiness with all my heart. And I can also tell you that by
this a heavy stone is lifted from my heart. You know I have always
liked Annie, and she has not been unkind to me; but old Bellinger had
got his head set that you must become his third son-in-law--and nobody
else. Now if you marry the stranger girl it will help us all. Therefore
once more, happiness and blessing, Lambert Sternberg, with my whole
heart."
"That I also wish you," said Lambert.
"I know it," said Richard; "but now we must also say good evening to
your girl, Lambert. If she is half as handsome as Adam swears, she must
be something truly wonderful. Is she in the house?"
They stood before the door. The two others were still some distance
behind. Lambert drew his young friend beside him on the bench and
briefly told him everything which sooner or later he would have
unfolded more fully, but which now could no longer be kept secret.
"This is my situation, Richard," concluded he. "You can conceive how
heavy my heart is."
"I can well conceive it," said Richard Herkimer, heartily pressing
Lambert's hand. "Dear friend, this is an unhappy record. Conrad should
be ashamed, especially at this time, to forsake you and leave the cart
sticking in the mud, when even such fellows as John Mertens and Hans
Haberkorn are pulling with us at the same rope."
"You see, Richard, it is that which grieves me most," said Lambert,
"You know how they talked about us last year--that we held with the
French; that Conrad spoke Indian better than German, and other
scandalous stuff. What will they now say when they hear that, at the
very moment when the danger breaks in upon us, Conrad is not to be
found among us?"
"Let them say what they will," said Richard. "My father, the minister,
and all who are reasonably intelligent, you have always had on your
side; and they will also this time know what to think. Perhaps Conrad
also will yet consider."
"God grant it!" said Lambert, with a deep sigh.
"Now," said Richard, rising, "I will give a wink to Fritz Volz; and
then you must tell us what we are to do for the night."
Richard Herkimer went to the two others, who had remained standing at
some distance, engaged, as it appeared, in a discussion. At the same
moment Aunt Ursul came out of the door.
"Is that you, Lambert?"
"Yes, aunt."
"Who are the others?"
Lambert named the friends.
"What, then, does Adam want?" said Aunt Ursul.
"The fellow has become quite foolish. Nay, Lambert, that is your
business; but to-morrow send off the awkward fellow. We don't want
useless eaters here. This evening he may come in with the rest.
Catherine is up again. She says it is not a time now to be sick. In
that surely she is right. She is standing at the fire, boiling an
evening soup for your people, as though nothing had happened--the noble
girl! I am now going home; and, Lambert, the minister meant well in
what he said to you, but under the circumstances it is senseless. You
are an honorable man, and the girl is not trifling, and God knows what
your duty is in the case."
Lambert went with Aunt Ursul into the house. Catherine came to meet
him, looking pale and having a cloth wound about her head, but greeting
him with a friendly smile. "You must not scold me," she said. "To
please your aunt I acted as though I was asleep. I have heard
everything. I could not remain quietly in bed while you have so many
guests. I again feel quite well."
She leaned her head against his breast and whispered: "And you love me
notwithstanding, Lambert; not so?"
Lambert held the dear girl fast in his arms as a loud ahem! was heard,
and Aunt Ursul entered the door closely followed by the three young
men.
"So, you young people," said Aunt Ursul, "come in and eat your
supper--that is, if it is ready; and this is my Lambert's dear bride,
and she is not standing there like Lot's pillar of salt. Adam
Bellinger, you may as well shut your mouth. No roasted pigeons will fly
into it. There is for this evening a soup, so that you must move your
own hands to get it conveniently out of the bowl. So, Richard Herkimer,
that is right that you at once offer your hand to the young lady. You
are always polite, having learned it from your father. And now I'll be
off. God protect you, Catherine, and you, Lambert, and you all. I shall
come again to-morrow and perhaps with my old man. Now nobody needs to
be farther concerned about me. Do you hear? Aunt Ursul can find her
home alone."
While she thus spoke she took her rifle, kissed Catherine heartily, and
shook hands with the young men one after the other. Then she walked out
of the house into the windy night.
The three guests breathed more freely when austere Aunt Ursul had
turned her broad back, and her heavy tread outside was heard. But it
was some time before they began to look about them and to talk, though
Catherine kindly invited them to take seats, and assured them that the
soup would soon be ready.
Richard Herkimer said to Fritz Volz: "Better sit down, Fritz," though
he himself remained standing. Fritz Volz pushed Adam Bellinger in the
side and asked him if he did not see that he was standing in the way of
the young lady. Then they rubbed their hands as if they were entirely
frozen, though, at least on Adam's brow, clear sweat drops were
impearled. And when they spoke it was in whispers, as though the
steaming soup which Catherine now placed on the table was to be their
last meal.
Adam Bellinger was not quite sure whether this would be the case with
him. Fritz Volz had before told him that the chief business would be
diligently to patrol against the enemy, and, since he had such a
burning desire to measure himself against the French, he must make the
beginning; that it was indeed no fun to walk about the woods in the
night when there might be a Frenchman behind every tree; but that
doubtless Adam would teach the fellows manners. Adam said that he had
come to help defend the blockhouse against a possible attack, but not
to let himself be shot by the French and scalped by the Indians in the
woods in the night and fog. The contention about this, which had before
been arrested, was now again taken up by the teasing Fritz, though with
a little timidity. He wanted to know from Adam how he could distinguish
between a tree-trunk and an Indian, in the night. Richard asked him how
he would save himself if he were suddenly seized by his long, yellow
hair from behind and jerked to the ground. By these and other similar
questions of the two teasers, Adam was thrown into great distress. They
laughed loud, while he came near crying, until Catherine interposed,
saying that a courageous man would in danger hit upon the right thing,
though he might not be able to tell beforehand what he would do.
"Yes, indeed," said Adam, "the young lady has more sense in her little
finger than you have in your two heads. I shall doubtless know what I
have to do."
He accompanied these brave words with such a thankful, tender look at
Catherine, that both the merry rogues broke out in loud laughter, and a
glimmer of mirthfulness passed over Lambert's earnest face.
"It is enough," said he. "Adam will do his duty as well as the rest of
us. It is time that we assign the watch for the night; two for every
two hours, and Adam and I will make the beginning. Good night,
Catherine."
He gave his hand to Catherine. The others followed his example. As
Lambert was leaving the house Fritz Volz and Richard Herkimer came out
too.
"We will also rather stay outdoors," said Richard. "Fritz, as I know by
experience, cannot do without snoring and that might disturb Catherine,
who surely needs sleep."
Fritz Volz said he could do without snoring, but Richard could not stop
talking, and that it was on the whole better that they should camp
before the door.
"You kind young men," said Lambert.
"Is that kind?" said Richard eagerly. "I would stand all night on my
head if I knew that Catherine would sleep better on that account."
"And I would lie there in the creek up to my neck in the water," said
Fritz Volz.
Adam sighed, and looked at the moon which hung clear and large over the
forest.
"Come, Adam," said Lambert, "we will go upon our round."
They set out, accompanied by Pluto. The others stretched themselves out
upon the dry sand before the door, wrapped up in their blankets, their
rifles in their arms. Fritz Volz did not snore. Richard Herkimer did
not talk. Both looked up to the twinkling stars, lost in thoughts which
happily remained concealed from Gussie and Annie Bellinger.
Never before had Catherine been so carefully guarded as during this
night.