First came dread, the same senseless dread that had dominated Lilly's
being before her engagement. It stiffened her limbs, bound her arms to
her body, crippled her knees, beat against the walls of the veins in her
neck and created a black void in her brain.
But after she had gone through the first meeting with Von Prell and
nothing fateful occurred, her fear died down and what remained was a
searching attentiveness, a readiness to jump aside at the least sign of
danger, a tense anticipation of ticklish questions to be answered
properly and pitfalls to be avoided with a crafty assumption of
innocence.
The colonel noticed nothing--he, the most suspicious of married men,
with the keenest scent, who harboured the least illusions concerning the
opposite sex, he noticed nothing. He even believed the headache myth and
lavished mocking yet tender pity upon her, while he sat at her bedside
laughing and helping her change the compresses that Miss von
Schwertfeger had solicitously prepared.
It was more difficult for Lilly to endure the woman's caresses. Behind
them lurked a squinting pair of eyes, shy, heedful, and endeavouring to
look harmless, while, in spite of themselves, revealing a greedy desire
to know.
The anxiety that so far as the colonel was concerned gradually lulled
itself to sleep, grew sharper with regard to the self-sacrificing
friend, who at any moment might become her enemy and betrayer.
Lilly did not dare to cry until night time, when she felt sure of being
alone. She would jump out of bed to wash her eyes, go back to bed again
and cry until sleep took her in its soothing arms.
It was not shame, nor regret, nor longing love. It was a feeling of
infinite solitariness, it was a straying about in perplexity.
"What will happen now?"
For something must surely happen--confession, convent, flight together,
suicide together, or one of all those events described in Mrs.
Asmussen's books as following upon so atrocious a deed.
The week passed.
Lilly had arisen from her sick bed several days before, but she had not
seen Von Prell. She could discover no signs of him, even when she locked
all the entrances to her room and rushed to the window for a glimpse of
him.
All the while the colonel kept recommending horseback riding. There was
Von Prell to take her and the exercise would do her good.
At last, Saturday at dusk, she felt she had to yield--they would meet at
dinner the next day at any rate.
The horses were pawing before the door.
The moment for the meeting before which she had recoiled had arrived
with its threat of fresh dangers.
When she saw her friend ascend the terrace steps in his high, shiny
riding boots, looking pale and thin, and moving as if by springs to
display his counterfeit respect, something within her suddenly turned
numb.
"Why, that young man there is an utter stranger," she felt. "He doesn't
concern you in the least--you are looking upon him for the first time in
your life."
They rode out of the gate.
The colonel had gone to the stables, but Miss von Schwertfeger stood on
the terrace with her hands clasped and looked after them.
The road, muddy with recent rains, plashed under the horses' hoofs and a
cold evening wind crinkled the winter wheat. A yellow sheen hiding the
poverty-stricken sun glimmered behind the ragged birch boughs.
Everything looked sad and weary. It even seemed a vain task to have
sowed the winter wheat.
They trotted on side by side in silence--a long, long series of anxious
moments.
"He must speak some time," thought Lilly, biting her tongue till it
bled.
He kept his eyes fixed undeviatingly upon the road ahead, making only
slight movements of his right hand from time to time to adjust his
reins.
"He'll call me 'my lady' again," she thought, and felt ashamed in
advance for both of them.
Finally she took heart and spoke to him.
"Do walk your horse," she said, almost crying.
"Of course, comrade," he replied, and reined in his chestnut.
"Comrade! Comrade!" she burst out, and passionately searched his eyes
with hers.
He shrugged his shoulders, as always when he feared a scolding, and said
nothing.
"Say something, won't you?" she screamed, quite beside herself.
"What should I say?" he queried, making a little gesture, as if to
scratch his head. "It's a nasty business. We know it." And muttering to
himself, he repeated, "Nasty business, nasty business!"
"Is that all you have to say to me?" she cried.
"My dear friend," he replied, "I am small, my heart is small. It's not
a suitable spot for harbouring great anguish of the soul."
"Pshaw, who's speaking of anguish of the soul? But what's to become of
us, that's what I should like to know."
"As soon as I come into possession of an unencumbered manorial estate,"
he replied with a gesture of invitation, "a castle, stables, vehicles
and other animate and inanimate things thereunto appertaining, I shall
take the liberty of applying to your husband for your hand."
This completely robbed Lilly of her self-control.
"If you keep on making such jokes," she screamed, bursting into tears,
"I'll ride to death, now, before your very eyes."
"A difficult thing to do with that well-behaved nag of yours."
Lilly was at her wits' end and simply let the tears course down her
cheeks in silence.
At last he changed his tone.
"Well, well, child," he said, "be sensible for a change. All I want to
do is tickle the superfluous tragedy out of your soul. And as soon as
you make a glad face again I'll try to give the matter most serious
consideration."
Lilly wiped her tears away with the flap of her riding gauntlet and
smiled at him obediently.
"Fine," he praised her. "'Twas not idle in the poet to write '_O weine
selten, weine schwer. Wer Traenen hat, hat auch Malheur._' I'll tell you
something. We two pretty orphans were exactly meant for each other and
we've been brought together here in this enchanted castle. But we should
have _had_ to meet, no matter where, even if we hadn't been two hearts
that beat as one long before. To be accurate, the colonel married us
right at the beginning, and the only shame is that your marriage
contract with him wasn't drawn up accordingly. But that's not to be
altered, and we shall have to get around the matter in secret ways. See
here, child, we both are headed in the same direction on the sea of
life. We have the same to win and the same to lose. So cheer up! Go it!
We're ragtag and bobtail both of us, at any rate."
"I'm not ragtag and bobtail!" cried Lilly, flaring up. "I have pride and
a sense of honour, and even if I have sinned a thousandfold, I know how
to die for my sins."
"It's not so easy to die. Usually the opportunity is lacking, and when
the opportunity once presents itself we show it a clean pair of heels."
Lilly felt a hot desire to protect him against the self-degradation in
which he indulged.
"You don't believe what you say," she cried. "You are the boldest, the
most daring of men. I know you are. Without a moment's hesitation you
would face death for the sake of your honour. If you would only summon
all your strength the whole world would lie at your feet. I will always
keep reminding you of that. I will work over you until you get back
belief in yourself, until you feel you are on the upward road. I will
share all your hardships, all your temptations, and I will protect you
from all evil. For what should I be here if not for you?"
She felt she was so completely his that she could have thrown herself at
his horse's hoofs; and when she recalled the first moments of their
meeting that day she could scarcely realise why he had seemed so
repulsive and alien.
"You're a touching creature," he replied. "It's really lucky the
creepers on your balcony are so thoroughly knit together."
She started.
"What do you mean by that?" she faltered, oppressed by a foreboding of
ill.
"And lucky the ladder was left there. It can be leaned against the
balcony and the vines can break all they want to, even Miss von
Schwertfeger wouldn't notice anything amiss. Well?"
He blinked his silvery lids at her enticingly.
She did not know where to turn to hide her face from his gaze, she felt
so ashamed.
"I'll never belong to you again," she cried. "I swear I won't by all the
saints! I should be a thing of loathing to myself. As for you, I should
utterly despise you. Pah!"
He shrugged his shoulders.
"Pity to lose the opportunity," he observed, and turned the horses'
heads.
* * * * *
He appeared at dinner the next day, virtuous in his frock-coat and black
necktie. He strutted and scraped and bowed, pursed his lips in
extravagant respect, and scarcely dared to take the demitasse from her
hand.
But Miss von Schwertfeger's eyes passed between the two, watching and
questioning.
Late that Sunday night the following occurred:
The colonel had gone off to town, Miss von Schwertfeger had retired to
her room, and Lilly sat on the edge of the bed in her nightgown brushing
her hair.
Suddenly she heard a gentle tapping at the window, as if the autumn wind
were blowing a twig against the closed shutter. But the action of the
wind is irregular, and this sound kept time--now a little louder, now a
little softer--and recurred at even intervals.
It frightened her, and she wanted to run down to Miss von Schwertfeger;
but she bethought herself in time. She hastily put on her dressing gown,
cautiously raised the window, and opened the shutters the least bit.
At first she saw nothing.
There were no stars in the heavens and the whole of the lodge seemed
buried in darkness. Then she thought she saw a staff waving up and down
close to the shutter.
She opened the shutter an inch wider and recognised--the pea-shooter.
Now she knew what was up.
She jumped back and drew the bolt. Then threw herself back in bed, where
she lay holding her fingers in her ears. But when she withdrew them she
again heard that short, regular tapping, which now rose almost to a
knocking.
The nightwatch, who made the rounds of the court and park once an hour,
need only find the ladder leaning against the balcony and all was lost.
Her fright deprived her of her senses.
Trembling in every limb, she ran into her dressing room, where there was
no light, and opened the balcony door about half an inch. Through the
crack she whispered into the darkness:
"Go away, and never try such a thing again."
Then she listened with her ear to the opening.
Nothing to be seen or heard.
But when she wanted to close the door it would not go shut. She groped
along the crack in search of the obstacle, and came upon a round,
hollow, wooden something, which an invisible hand had shoved there.
The wretched pea-shooter!
She moaned and covered her face with her hands, and the next moment was
hanging in his arms in a half swoon.
After that evening he had her completely in his power--defenceless,
without a will of her own, at the mercy of his wishes and whims.
It was not happiness. She experienced scarcely a single transport of
feeling. That came later, when she had conquered her horror of the
monstrous deed, and her fear of discovery had weakened. Nothing occurred
to disturb them, and Lilly expanded in a sense of defiant security.
Then it was a blissful sailing over awful abysms, a delirium of the
senses, a nebulous ecstasy, a delightful writhing under lacerating
blows, an ebb and flow of magnanimous scorn of self and blasphemous
prayers.
Laughter came again. Not the old simple laughter that had dominated the
play of her spirit until within a short time before. No, this laughter
was sardonic exultation, the exultation of the hounded thief, who
carries his booty off to security, behind the backs of his pursuers.
Lilly also found reasons for justifying herself.
"I am merely fulfilling my destiny. I am now getting back the possession
which fate promised to me and which the old man so long kept from me."
In addition there was a redeeming element in all she did, consecrating
the most arrant deception and endowing it with purity. This was the
consciousness that he was being saved. Under the spell of a lofty love
he would learn to scorn vulgar escapades and, borne on the wings of a
woman's expiating favour, he would rise to the heights on which men and
heroes dwell.
With these thoughts she drugged her conscience each time; and when he
lay in her arms she gave them whispered expression--the doors were not
heavy and all sounds must be muffled.
He laughed and kissed the words from her mouth. If she grew uneasy and
demanded pledges, he vowed the stars out of the heaven.
Miss von Schwertfeger now never stayed in Lilly's room later than
eleven o'clock. This was the hour he might come, and by half past one he
had to be gone.
Of course he had to confine his visits to the evenings when the colonel
went to town. On account of the time the trains ran, the colonel could
not possibly return before two. Besides the carriage could be heard at
some distance.
Before Walter left he had to unlock the door to the colonel's room, and
smoke a cigarette to rid the atmosphere of the stable and leather smell
he brought with him from his own room. For it often happened that the
colonel stuck his head in before going to bed; or, if the wine had
loosened his tongue, he would even awaken Lilly, seat himself at her
bedside, laugh, cast about his dagger glances pick his yellow teeth, and
tell the juiciest stories which had arrived fresh from the Berlin
centres of obscenity and made the rounds of his club in town.
Lilly played the drowsy pussy, and purred and yawned She began to feel
so secure that once she actually fell asleep right in the middle of a
laugh.
Oh, if only there had been no Miss von Schwertfeger!
Not that Miss von Schwertfeger had noticed anything. The horrors of such
a possibility were inconceivable. But her restless, hasty comings and
goings, the almost anxious greed with which she pried about, gave
sufficient cause for concern.
She looked very pale and worn, while the fleshy region about her mouth
and her sharp, scenting nose glowed a still deeper red.
You might suppose she tippled in secret. But such thing would be bound
to leak out, and at table scarce a drop passed her lips.
"Let her do whatever she wants to," thought Lilly, "if only she doesn't
come spying on me as she did on Katie."
And sometimes it occurred to Lilly that she herself was no better than
the poor maid Katie, whom they had chased from the castle.