XV. THE CONCLUSION

It was early in the afternoon, and just at dinner-time, when the

three joyous travellers reached Villeneuve. After dinner, the miller

placed himself in the arm-chair, smoked his pipe, and had a little

nap. The bridal pair went arm-in-arm out through the town and along

the high road, at the foot of the wood-covered rocks, and by the deep,

blue lake.

The gray walls, and the heavy clumsy-looking towers of the

gloomy castle of Chillon, were reflected in the clear flood. The

little island, on which grew the three acacias, lay at a short

distance, looking like a bouquet rising from the lake. "How delightful

it must be to live there," said Babette, who again felt the greatest

wish to visit the island; and an opportunity offered to gratify her

wish at once, for on the shore lay a boat, and the rope by which it

was moored could be very easily loosened. They saw no one near, so

they took possession of it without asking permission of any one, and

Rudy could row very well. The oars divided the pliant water like the

fins of a fish--that water which, with all its yielding softness, is

so strong to bear and to carry, so mild and smiling when at rest,

and yet so terrible in its destroying power. A white streak of foam

followed in the wake of the boat, which, in a few minutes, carried

them both to the little island, where they went on shore; but there

was only just room enough for two to dance. Rudy swung Babette round

two or three times; and then, hand-in-hand, they sat down on a

little bench under the drooping acacia-tree, and looked into each

other's eyes, while everything around them glowed in the rays of the

setting sun.

The fir-tree forests on the mountains were covered with a purple

hue like the heather bloom; and where the woods terminated, and the

rocks became prominent, they looked almost transparent in the rich

crimson glow of the evening sky. The surface of the lake was like a

bed of pink rose-leaves.

As the evening advanced, the shadows fell upon the snow-capped

mountains of Savoy painting them in colors of deep blue, while their

topmost peaks glowed like red lava; and for a moment this light was

reflected on the cultivated parts of the mountains, making them appear

as if newly risen from the lap of earth, and giving to the

snow-crested peak of the Dent du Midi the appearance of the full

moon as it rises above the horizon.

Rudy and Babette felt that they had never seen the Alpine glow

in such perfection before. "How very beautiful it is, and what

happiness to be here!" exclaimed Babette.

"Earth has nothing more to bestow upon me," said Rudy; "an evening

like this is worth a whole life. Often have I realized my good

fortune, but never more than in this moment. I feel that if my

existence were to end now, I should still have lived a happy life.

What a glorious world this is; one day ends, and another begins even

more beautiful than the last. How infinitely good God is, Babette!"

"I have such complete happiness in my heart," said she.

"Earth has no more to bestow," answered Rudy. And then came the

sound of the evening bells, borne upon the breeze over the mountains

of Switzerland and Savoy, while still, in the golden splendor of the

west, stood the dark blue mountains of Jura.

"God grant you all that is brightest and best!" exclaimed Babette.

"He will," said Rudy. "He will to-morrow. To-morrow you will be

wholly mine, my own sweet wife."

"The boat!" cried Babette, suddenly. The boat in which they were

to return had broken loose, and was floating away from the island.

"I will fetch it back," said Rudy; throwing off his coat and

boots, he sprang into the lake, and swam with strong efforts towards

it.

The dark-blue water, from the glaciers of the mountains, was icy

cold and very deep. Rudy gave but one glance into the water beneath;

but in that one glance he saw a gold ring rolling, glittering, and

sparkling before him. His engaged ring came into his mind; but this

was larger, and spread into a glittering circle, in which appeared a

clear glacier. Deep chasms yawned around it, the water-drops glittered

as if lighted with blue flame, and tinkled like the chiming of

church bells. In one moment he saw what would require many words to

describe. Young hunters, and young maidens--men and women who had sunk

in the deep chasms of the glaciers--stood before him here in

lifelike forms, with eyes open and smiles on their lips; and far

beneath them could be heard the chiming of the church bells of

buried villages, where the villagers knelt beneath the vaulted

arches of churches in which ice-blocks formed the organ pipes, and the

mountain stream the music.

On the clear, transparent ground sat the Ice Maiden. She raised

herself towards Rudy, and kissed his feet; and instantly a cold,

deathly chill, like an electric shock, passed through his limbs. Ice

or fire! It was impossible to tell, the shock was so instantaneous.

"Mine! mine!" sounded around him, and within him; "I kissed thee

when thou wert a little child. I once kissed thee on the mouth, and

now I have kissed thee from heel to toe; thou art wholly mine." And

then he disappeared in the clear, blue water.

All was still. The church bells were silent; the last tone floated

away with the last red glimmer on the evening clouds. "Thou art mine,"

sounded from the depths below: but from the heights above, from the

eternal world, also sounded the words, "Thou art mine!" Happy was he

thus to pass from life to life, from earth to heaven. A chord was

loosened, and tones of sorrow burst forth. The icy kiss of death had

overcome the perishable body; it was but the prelude before life's

real drama could begin, the discord which was quickly lost in harmony.

Do you think this a sad story? Poor Babette! for her it was

unspeakable anguish.

The boat drifted farther and farther away. No one on the

opposite shore knew that the betrothed pair had gone over to the

little island. The clouds sunk as the evening drew on, and it became

dark. Alone, in despair, she waited and trembled. The weather became

fearful; flash after flash lighted up the mountains of Jura, Savoy,

and Switzerland, while peals of thunder, that lasted for many minutes,

rolled over her head. The lightning was so vivid that every single

vine stem could be seen for a moment as distinctly as in the

sunlight at noon-day; and then all was veiled in darkness. It

flashed across the lake in winding, zigzag lines, lighting it up on

all sides; while the echoes of the thunder grew louder and stronger.

On land, the boats were all carefully drawn up on the beach, every

living thing sought shelter, and at length the rain poured down in

torrents.

"Where can Rudy and Babette be in this awful weather?" said the

miller.

Poor Babette sat with her hands clasped, and her head bowed

down, dumb with grief; she had ceased to weep and cry for help.

"In the deep water!" she said to herself; "far down he lies, as if

beneath a glacier."

Deep in her heart rested the memory of what Rudy had told her of

the death of his mother, and of his own recovery, even after he had

been taken up as dead from the cleft in the glacier.

"Ah," she thought, "the Ice Maiden has him at last."

Suddenly there came a flash of lightning, as dazzling as the

rays of the sun on the white snow. The lake rose for a moment like a

shining glacier; and before Babette stood the pallid, glittering,

majestic form of the Ice Maiden, and at her feet lay Rudy's corpse.

"Mine!" she cried, and again all was darkness around the heaving

water.

"How cruel," murmured Babette; "why should he die just as the

day of happiness drew near? Merciful God, enlighten my understanding,

shed light upon my heart; for I cannot comprehend the arrangements

of Thy providence, even while I bow to the decree of Thy almighty

wisdom and power." And God did enlighten her heart.

A sudden flash of thought, like a ray of mercy, recalled her dream

of the preceding night; all was vividly represented before her. She

remembered the words and wishes she had then expressed, that what

was best for her and for Rudy she might piously submit to.

"Woe is me," she said; "was the germ of sin really in my heart?

was my dream a glimpse into the course of my future life, whose thread

must be violently broken to rescue me from sin? Oh, miserable creature

that I am!"

Thus she sat lamenting in the dark night, while through the deep

stillness the last words of Rudy seemed to ring in her ears. "This

earth has nothing more to bestow." Words, uttered in the fulness of

joy, were again heard amid the depths of sorrow.

Years have passed since this sad event happened. The shores of the

peaceful lake still smile in beauty. The vines are full of luscious

grapes. Steamboats, with waving flags, pass swiftly by.

Pleasure-boats, with their swelling sails, skim lightly over the

watery mirror, like white butterflies. The railway is opened beyond

Chillon, and goes far into the deep valley of the Rhone. At every

station strangers alight with red-bound guide-books in their hands, in

which they read of every place worth seeing. They visit Chillon, and

observe on the lake the little island with the three acacias, and then

read in their guide-book the story of the bridal pair who, in the year

1856, rowed over to it. They read that the two were missing till the

next morning, when some people on the shore heard the despairing cries

of the bride, and went to her assistance, and by her were told of

the bridegroom's fate.

But the guide-book does not speak of Babette's quiet life

afterwards with her father, not at the mill--strangers dwell there

now--but in a pretty house in a row near the station. On many an

evening she sits at her window, and looks out over the chestnut-trees

to the snow-capped mountains on which Rudy once roamed. She looks at

the Alpine glow in the evening sky, which is caused by the children

of the sun retiring to rest on the mountain-tops; and again they

breathe their song of the traveller whom the whirlwind could deprive

of his cloak but not of his life. There is a rosy tint on the mountain

snow, and there are rosy gleams in each heart in which dwells the

thought, "God permits nothing to happen, which is not the best for

us." But this is not often revealed to all, as it was revealed to

Babette in her wonderful dream.

Fairy Tales of Hans Christian Andersen · 第 72 / 223 题