THE WEDDING DAY.
Brightly dawned the day, but the morning sun disappeared early beneath
the glowing clouds, with which the whole sky was soon overcast.
A cold, feeble rain pattered down; a few wedding guests ventured into
the park, but the chilly disagreeable weather soon drove them back.
Blanden was busied with arrangements in the Castle; this time his
master of the kitchen and cellar had not been granted leave of absence;
he had to show the wonders of the Castle to Olga, his stately mistress.
Dr. Kuhl was only allowed to devote himself to the nymphs of the lake.
Caecilie looked strictly after him, lest he wished to lay his homage at
the feet of the Castle fairies. There were the most charming little
town girls present, whom such a Don Juan by profession could wind up
like a watch, so that their hearts ticked in a race with the throbs of
his. Iduna, the late head scholar, was there, a fresh child of Nature
with developed appreciation of manly beauty. Her first love had been an
unhappy one, but with that elixir within her, she saw a Doctor Sperner
in every man. She had cast an eye upon Kuhl, and was little gratified
that Salomon became her cicerone, exhibiting all the apartments of the
Castle full of historical associations.
"In this dining-hall, my Fraeulein, certainly no one ever danced before,
but you must not think that everything was conducted in a very holy
manner. Yes, at the time of Winrich of Kniprode, these gentlemen had to
be called to order. There were Grand Masters at the Marienburg, whose
glance extended to the remotest corners of the land. But later ensued a
period of decay. They certainly still sometimes fought bravely, it
was their trade, and it was immaterial to them whether they held a
prayer-book or a sword in their hands--they understood their letters
very well, and scratched whole alphabets into their enemies' faces. I
assume that this Castle has also often been besieged by the Poles--from
the Dantziger there the knights no doubt have triumphantly repelled the
attack of the others; courage upon the whole, my Fraeulein, is a very
ordinary virtue practised partly at the word of command, partly under
compulsion. I do not think much of it. All the world is brave, even the
oxen in the meadows, which stand before their enemies and rush at one
another with their horns."
"But I should think," said Iduna, before whose mind stood Theodor
Koerner's picture in all its glory, "it is one of the noblest virtues,
the fruit of glorious enthusiasm," and she added a few passages, which
she had retained in her memory from her most successful theme upon the
Lieutenant of Hussars.
"Enthusiasm is all very fine," said Salomon, "but who has time for it
before a battle! Men must clean their weapons, count their cartridges,
eat a morsel of commissariat bread. I speak of to-day, because the
Knights of the Order did not know that nutritious food, and when once
the troops start, they must listen exactly to the commander's order,
march, halt, load, fire! Enthusiasm--it is only to be found amongst
warlike poets. In battle people are as excited as in a boxing match;
they hit out on all sides, they know it is a matter of life or death,
they may lose their collars, they see nothing, think nothing, only try
to save their own skins. There is nothing more stupid than a soldier in
a battle."
"You describe it so vividly," said Iduna, "that one might believe you
had been present yourself."
"Not at a battle, but often at a fight. Besides, where is there any
battle now? We live in everlasting peace. No, no my Fraeulein! I have
merely cast a few glances into the human mind, and if one will discover
the truth, one must always assume the contrary of that which poetry
asserts. Poetry is merely a beautiful falsehood. But, as I said, the
brethren of the Order might be brave even at the time of their decay,
but they led a merry life; I wager that they drank as bravely in this
dining-hall, as at any drinking party of Lithuanians or Masurens, and
that the gaily painted Madonna, with her radiant colours in the window
panes, was not the only representative of womanhood, but that also many
a high born knight's young lady--"
"No, never, Herr Salomon," said Iduna, promptly.
The youth was about to spare the maiden's blushes by passing suddenly
to the event of the day, when the other ladies and girls declared that
it was time to dress, and Iduna was not sorry to leave the highly
educated student, who shed the radiance of enlightened human
understanding into every corner, in which any illusion still lingered
fondly. He knew that few, like himself, stood upon the height of
nineteenth century reason.
Beate would not be debarred from dressing her friend for the ceremony.
She looked beautiful in her veil and white satin robe, but was ghastly
pale. Beate advised her to have recourse to artificial aid, but Giulia
very decidedly rejected every reminiscence of her past.
There she appeared, really like a marble bride; on beholding her, Kuhl
remembered how he had once called her so, when Blanden told him of his
adventures on the Lago Maggiore. At first sight her beauty gave an
impression of pride and coldness, but any one looking more closely
recognised the softening influence of internal suffering which
overshadowed her features.
They were a handsome pair; there was no dissentient voice in the
unenvious assembly. Blanden had quite recovered from his duel, he
looked noble and grand, the dreaminess in his features possessed a
charm of its own, such gentleness, such benignity lay in it, and when
he opened his eyes widely they told of superior intellectual spirit.
All the ladies appeared in brilliant toilets; both the brides elect,
Caecilie and Olga, with Beate, were the bridesmaids. The unheard of
event that Dr. Kuhl had donned a frockcoat, betokened that Caecilie had
already made progress in taming the rebel. As for him, he contemplated
himself in the pier-glasses, shrugging his shoulders and saying to
Wegen he felt like a bear at a fair, whom the bear-leader had dressed
up in a red jacket; however, he must perform his antics and dance to
the drum. And so saying, he stretched about and strained his Herculean
arms in the unwontedly fine material.
The procession was arranged and moved through the dining-hall into the
festively decorated and flower bedecked chapel. There, behind the
altar, upon which Giulia had once placed an enchanted souvenir, stood
the minister. She thought of the two Italian island churches, of the
one in which she had stood before the altar as to-day; in the other
where she had confessed to a forbidden love, and before the sacred word
and sacred act she was overcome with a full consciousness of her sinful
temerity.
As in a vision, her whole life passed before her, she did not listen to
the words of the Bible. The "Yes" in the church of San Giulio rang in
her ears--the echo of the chapel seemed to strengthen it--at first it
sounded like the crash of scorn, and still louder, more grave, more
solemn, the thunder of the judgment day--her knees tottered. Everything
was bathed in dreamy light--she was herself, and yet was not--she was
there and here.
Did not the lake of Orta roar outside?
No, it was the storm which had risen, sweeping through the tops of the
pines, and stirring up the waves of the northern water mirror.
Fancy often erects a bridge of dreams from one summit of life to
another, and deep below in oblivion lie all its other paths.
Giulia was absorbed in a vision, in a self-delusion; the pictures of
the past and present became mixed up, but the confusion was agonising;
her hand trembled in Blanden's.
Then the rings were exchanged, Giulia looked into his luminous eyes, he
bent over her with an expression of most ardent love. The shadows
disappeared, she felt the full consciousness of the bliss of the
present, and in a voice not trembling with anguish of conscience, but
with all the warmth of intense devotion, she spoke the word of consent.
When Blanden led her to dinner he asked about the diadem; he had hoped
that she would adorn herself with it on that day--when again should so
good an opportunity be offered of letting the proud family heritage of
the Blandens' shine in all its glory? And when it shone above the
flowing bridal veil, the sanction of the family, the blessing of the
long row of female ancestors, of that house would at the same time rest
upon the brow of her who entered that line: she was received into the
sanctuary of the noble women who for centuries had held their sway over
this home. Giulia blushed deeply, and with deceitful words pleaded
modesty and humility as her excuse, but Blanden felt that he was
rebuffed, painfully disappointed that she had scorned to adorn herself
with his costly gift; it was like a note of discord in the harmony of
the entertainment, and he could not suppress a sensation of anxious
misgiving.
The grand wedding dinner passed off very cheerfully. Giulia possessed
the lightheadedness of an actress; in glad emotions she forgot
everything which at other times might depress her, she imbibed
forgetfulness and courage with the sparkling froth of the champagne.
Then, when her countenance brightened, a slight colour suffused it as
she smiled and joked, and gave herself up to a genial actress' mood,
which owes its birth to a rich treasury of recollections; then only her
beauty, which until now had but inspired cold admiration, warmed all
hearts, and Blanden was deemed fortunate to have won so beautiful a
wife.
There was no lack of toasts and verses. Schoener made use of a few ideas
which he had once mustered in Neukuhren at Eva's betrothal. A true poet
always goes economically to work, because when once he has stamped an
idea with the immortal impress of his genius, it must not be lost
again, and it would be most blameworthy even to make a feeble copy.
Salomon retired to the domain of satire, he compared the new Knights of
St. John with those of the old Order, and ridiculed the celibacy of the
latter in verses imitative of Heine.
Dr. Kuhl, it is true, proposed no toasts, but he was in a wild mood,
which inspired his betrothed with some slight alarm, he spoke of his
gallows-wit, and said he had courage to mention the rope, even in the
house of a man who had been hanged; he was enjoying himself immensely
at the wedding, but this fact did not upset his theories that marriage
festivities were a public nuisance; however, as he had at last lost all
his characteristics and fallen a victim to his own good nature, and
another person's amiability, well, he could not help it; he, too, must
let himself be married, but he should only permit two witnesses,
selected from the midst of the sovereign people, to be present, who
afterwards would disappear in the night of that plebeian universality
where all cows are black; his marriage dinner he and Caecilie should eat
alone, or at the utmost invite his Caro who, on that day, should
receive a specially good dish of meat and bones. Well, he had somehow
got into the good-for-nothing frock-coat, and he only wished that all
the seams would burst. The whole life of perishing humanity consisted
in most abject concessions; he, too, now moved on that degrading
course, and had already fallen far from that height upon which he had
formerly stood in proud self-glorification, and he looked upon himself
as an apostate, and with his better self, which still occasionally rose
from out the slough, he looked upon his present self, planted up to its
neck in a bog of social prejudices, with an indescribable feeling of
pity and contempt.
"Thank God," said Wegen to Olga, "that you have not fallen into the
hands of this wicked hector, who seems to look upon his engagement as
an act of suicide. How differently I appreciate you."
Smiling meaningly, Olga pressed her lover's hand, but Kuhl had
overheard the last words.
"Dear friend and brother-in-law," said he, "I herewith pronounce
you to be the greatest hypocrite at this round table. The theory of
common love, for which the century is not yet ripe, permits many
variations--and one of these variations you have performed, and all the
world performs them with us. Enter upon an engagement to-day, give it
up soon, and a week or so later fall in love and engage yourself again,
and you are one of the most moral citizens in the world, and no one
will assail your good name. But, if only you feel that affection a week
sooner, before the old one is given up, then you are a Don Juan.
Everything then depends upon time, just as in hiring anything, a week
constitutes the whole difference between virtue and vice. Well, if we
have not sinned, dear brother-in-law _in spe_, at least we have nothing
with which to reproach ourselves! I have loved two sisters, but so have
you also--your good health, my friend!"
Wegen coloured at this address, which, to him, appeared intensely
heartless. Olga laughed, but Caecilie had long since compressed her lips
and prepared herself for an armed reprimand.
The clergyman opposite, an enlightened man, had listened to Kuhl's
defiant speech with a smiling countenance. He quietly took part in the
conversation.
"The affections of the human heart are very peculiar, and who, indeed,
excepting the Lord, who searches heart and mind, can say that he has
fathomed that organ? Such affection may be transient or deep, yet it
seems to me that it, too, is subject to mutability and change. But this
free-booter's love must cease at that point where human society rises
unanimously, striving to attain its grandest ends. We will grant dual
love to Herr Dr. Kuhl. Let every one manage it as best he can. I know,
indeed, that the heart, like the ocean, can have but one ebb and flow,
and that this tide is only produced by the mysterious attraction of
one orb, not merely in regular course--as is the case with the ocean
tide--but also in wild passionate upheavings, as in that of the glowing
liquid emotion of the earth, the earthquake, which clever men also
ascribe to the influence of the moon's powers of attraction; but
although dual love may be a whim of the heart, bigamy is very
different."
Although Blanden was talking to her at the moment, Giulia became
attentive, and listened eagerly to the words of her other neighbour.
"Bigamy," said the clergyman, "is a mockery of the ordinances which
Church and State have laid down for the support of society, and the
purity and security of families; hence the severe punishment which has
always been decreed to that crime. It may appear too severe to those
who are free spirits to such an extent, as also in this case only to
perceive the maintenance of immaterial forms, but whosoever tries to
shake them tries to shake the bases of society."
Giulia's heart beat more quickly. The cheering influence of the
champagne had lost its power, gloomy clouds overspread her brow.
"We have," said the clergyman, "only lately had such a case in our
village. A depraved woman, who came from the other side of the Polish
frontier, had a legal husband there; here, however, she commenced a
fresh love affair, and was married again. The matter came to light, and
the woman who had taken the payment of the double marriage expenses
very lightly, was sentenced to several years' imprisonment."
Giulia became pale, the champagne glass fell from her hand, and was
dashed to pieces on the table.
Blanden was startled. He had not listened to the clergyman's discourse,
having been talking very animatedly himself to Giulia, but what he said
to her was pleasant, bright and cheerful--what had come to her?
"I was abstracted, and awkward; forgive me!" said she, in an unsteady
voice.
"It is possible," Dr. Kuhl's powerful voice sounded across the table,
"that by bigamy people may wish to live in clover, but that does not
prevent a man wasting his substance in dual love."
Blanden now noticed the subject under discussion. He became depressed
and thoughtful, and did not know why. What could have agitated Giulia
so much? Was her heart not quite free?
They rose from the table in good spirits. Evening was already closing
in.
On that day, too, Blanden showed his usual care for the amusement of
his dependents by going into the great barn at the farm, where the
floor had been swept and garnished for a dance.
The village band had already commenced its noisy tum-tum, beer flowed
from the mighty barrels which Olkewicz had sent there.
Red lamps illumined the place with a festive light. The couples whirled
round in merry dance. A joyous hurrah greeted the master, who
immediately led his young wife amongst the groups of glad people. She
was obliged to open a dance with Olkewicz, and never in his life did
the worthy steward experience greater pride than when footing it with
the princess out of the fairy lake, the vision of a former occasion, in
a place where he usually commanded the united threshing flails of the
village.
But Giulia had to dance with the young people also. There were Poles
from beyond the frontiers; one a fine lad, in a laced jacket, knelt
down before Giulia, after the dance, and begged her to allow him to
take off her shoe, according to Polish custom, so as to drink her
health. Resistance was in vain, and the princess of Lago Maggiore had
as little cause as Cinderella to conceal her shoe and feet from the
world. The lad filled the slipper with brandy, and gave one lusty cheer
for the lady of the manor, while vowing himself to her service for
evermore. The fiddlers struck up a furious tune, with them the two
horns in the village band, and the night-watchman's horn, too-tooed
joyously. Great was the gladness of the people, and Giulia moved like a
strange fairy indeed amongst the women and girls of the village, mostly
lacking any beauty. The master himself went about from one to another,
talked to the tenants, shook hands pleasantly with those peasants, who,
according to old privileges, farmed their own acres, here and there
caught a better-looking maiden under her chin, and said a kindly word
to her.
Then, suddenly, from behind a pear tree, as if out of a hiding place,
two glaring eyes stared at him; they were Kaetchen's.
In his pleasantly excited mood he hardly remembered their last weird
meeting.
"What in the world brings you here?" asked he.
She did not answer for some time.
"Have you become dumb again?"
Now Kaetchen wriggled out from behind the wooden monster, and stood on
the bench beside it. She pointed to Giulia with outstretched arms, and
said, "Must I take part in your wedding after all? Marriage on land and
sea! Hurrah!"
And, like a mad woman, she jumped down, mingled alone in the confusion
of the dancers with wild gnome-like bounds, until a little crooked
fellow, who could find no partner, took pity on her and twirled her
round in the ring.
Then Kaetchen disappeared into the night outside; meanwhile the other
ladies and gentlemen had also descended to watch the people's
enjoyment. One after another Kuhl selected a conspicuously good-looking
or ugly partner and bore her in breathless fury over the threshing
floor, so that the fleetest youths were obliged to acknowledge his
superiority in the wild dance. The heated fair did not know what
happened to them, and marvelled how a townsman, who had never threshed,
could have such powerful arms. After this furious round dance Kuhl
ascended a tub, imposed silence, and made an impromptu speech to these
worthy Masurens, which was frequently interrupted by loud cheers.
The park was illuminated in a dazzlingly brilliant effulgence. Blanden
led Giulia on his arm, and the other guests followed along the paths.
The flames displayed letters upon the velvet sward; here was read, in
quivering, glowing characters, "Lago Maggiore," there the name
"Giulia." The Chinese pavilion on the island in the lake, and the
bridge leading to it shone in the gayest reflection of lights. In the
hot-houses a splendid group of southern plants, laurels, and myrtles,
under the feathery shelter of a pine, gleamed in the radiance of
coloured lamps, but most beautiful of all was a red fir outside, decked
with ribbons and flags, and when the guests came up to it they were
magically illuminated with a flaming red light. Giulia squeezed
Blanden's hand.
The sky had become clear, and when gorgeous fireworks were let off upon
the lake the rockets ascended to the stars, and the bude lights and
Catherine wheels crackled above the moonlit waves.
Then the party assembled again in the dining-hall, but the bridal
couple retired from the scene. Dancing and cards were still kept up for
long. Wegen arranged everything admirably. Kuhl was in an excellent
humour, and only by degrees one member after another left the happy
circle and sought repose. Silence reigned in the old Castle, only the
flag upon the tower fluttered in the night wind that had risen from the
lake, and lashed the waves higher and higher; still could be heard glad
sounds of the drinkers and dancers from the threshing barn of the farm.
A quiet ray of light fell from Giulia's windows, intercepted by the
large fir as it bent its heavy hanging boughs watchfully over them.
All the lights were extinguished in the park. Only between the gaps in
the walled-passage between the Dantziger and the Castle a stray one
seemed to quiver.
Not out of the deep-blue atmosphere of Italy did the stars look down
upon this night; from a paler sky shone a paler light! Not the glorious
Lago, with its enchanted isles and boundary Alps, rocked all into sweet
dreams--it was a sober tide which here surged upon the strand; a tide,
whose waves have nothing to tell, whose monotonous play only reflect
the infinite wearisomeness of a lifeless landscape.
And yet--it was she herself, in all her beauty, the princess of those
days, and it matters not out of what sea Venus rises, she brings Heaven
with her all the same.
But the happiness that once the red fir looked down upon, over which
the pine spread its loving fans, was ephemeral, grasped from the
moment, forfeited to the moment. How different Blanden felt; was
happiness secured in his own home, under the protection of his old
household gods? thither he had transplanted the roguish smiling
wanderer, where, although deprived of its fluttering wings, it found an
abiding place by the family hearth without losing its enchanting smile.
Thus he thought and felt; he did not inhale momentary intoxication from
Giulia's lips, but the inauguration of a whole life. She, on the
contrary, rejected every thought of the past, of the future. With
intentional obliviousness she gave herself up to the present.
What sacrifice had she made, what sacrilege committed to be once more
with him, whom alone she loved. She contemplated his noble gentle
features with speechless happiness, in his great, widely-opened eyes
she read the same passion which animated her, only with fleeting
thoughts that swept through her mind as flashes of lightning illumine a
weird gloomy spot, dared she think of anything beyond.
She closed her eyes, she did not venture to look at the mirror. If it
were to move again; if Baluzzi were to step forth, her bridal coronet
in his hand; if Blanden learned the truth, thrust her from him as a
deceiver; if a curse were hurled upon her from the bosom that still
often breathed uneasily in consequence of the wound which he had
received for her sake--it was impossible to complete the thought. She
covered her face with her hands. Outside the needles of the fir
crackled in the wind, and swept the window. She sank into a light
state of semi-somnolence, and she heard the branches crack still more
loudly--what a violent storm! It was as though it drove dust and wind
into her eyes, and deprived her of breath. With that volition, which
does not quite disappear in sleep, she raised herself slowly, and
simultaneously Blanden started up.
What had happened? Were they dreaming? But those were no mists and
clouds of dreamland, it was smoke and fire that surrounded them. They
sprang up and rushed to the window! At the same moment the giant fir
outside caught fire. The flames blazed and hissed as they rose, and
upon its wide arms the tree bore the fire across to the other side of
the Castle roof, away over the apartments in which were the wedded
pair.
Giulia's terrified cry for help pierced the night. Blanden remembered
the stairs and the secret passage. He pushed the mirror-door aside, but
an ocean of flame met his gaze; hence came the fire. He rushed to the
other side, drawing Giulia after him by her arm with all his might. The
first room, also the second, in which Beate had slept on the previous
night, were still free, the flames had passed over them, but farther on
again the branches of the fir had shaken down the sparks. The staircase
could not be reached, door and wainscot stood in a blaze. "Lost!" cried
Giulia, sinking down with a loud cry.
Blanden shouted once more from the window. In mortal fear he listened
for any token of life outside.
Where were the watchmen? Doubtlessly at the dance in the barn.
At last--a sound of voices--they came nearer--it was high time! but how
escape?
"Ladders, ladders here!" rang a mighty cry without, it filled Blanden's
bosom with renewed confidence; it was Kuhl's voice.
The crowd seemed to rush helplessly in noisy confusion through the
park. Olkewicz called for the fire engines.
"Where are the ladders?" roared Kuhl.
Blanden's position became more imminent every moment, the flames
already darted through the clattering mirror door, caught the curtains,
and the canopy of the bed rattled down over the broken posts.
A moment more--and the flames, which sent a stifling vapour in advance,
had overtaken the other chambers, wherein Blanden supported the
unconscious Giulia in his arms. With a fearful effort, he dragged her
to the window to breathe fresh air, for her strength was beginning to
fail.
Outside powerless lamentations and cries for help, futile swearing and
cursing by the steward.
But no! The ladder of salvation was brought and placed against the
window.
In the midst of the sparks which the burning roof showered upon them,
beneath a down-pour of bricks and stones that rattled to the ground
with the rapidity of fire itself, Dr. Kuhl sprang up the ladder,
received Giulia into his strong arms, and bore her down again as
easily, firmly, and unfalteringly as if he were walking down a marble
staircase.
Blanden, whose hair was already singed, followed their preserver.
A thundering cry of joy greeted him.
All had become animated in the other wing of the Castle, which the
guests occupied, and who had hastened down, the ladies in cloaks which
they had thrown hastily over their night robes.
The first fire engine arrived, conducted by Wegen on horseback. The
fiery red of the sky must have aroused the neighbouring villages,
whither eager messengers had been despatched.
With deep emotion, Blanden gazed upon the increasing blaze, which
threatened to reduce the old inheritance of his family to ashes;
already the forked tongues of the flames lashed the tower, they boded
ill for the dining-hall and chapel. All exertions were now directed to
save the centre of the Castle, the actual Ordensburg.
Certainly the fire could effect nothing upon those mighty walls, but as
the flames swept in wild haste over the roofs, the falling, burning
rafters from above might ignite the doors and panels of the beautiful,
well-preserved Castle apartments of the oldest portion.
Meanwhile engine after engine arrived, the whole district was alarmed,
the Castle tower of Kulmitten shone like a flaming beacon, but still
more did love for the noble master speed the help that was hurrying to
his home. Some of the engines were stationed on the other side of the
Castle, some in the park meadows, executing their work of preservation
with unflagging labour.
Blanden was first here then there; Giulia had recovered, she stared
senselessly into the flames. Had the flash of a tempest set the Castle
on fire she would have been convinced that heaven's judgment had fallen
upon her sin; that it would proclaim with burning tongues that which
she concealed so anxiously, yet although she did not know the cause of
the evil, she held the fire to be in some dark connection with her own
fate, and sometimes, with a shudder, the thought passed through her
mind that Baluzzi might be its author.
Despite all efforts of the numerous engines, and the helpful
interference of the throng, the splendid dining-hall could not be
saved. The flames had penetrated beyond the door, and consumed all
inflammable-material which the room contained. Still more was Giulia
terrified when the image of the Madonna and child fell half shattered
from the niche in the main wall; she was the old patron saint of this
Castle, did she flee from the sacrilege which had entered? Cautiously
and courageously Blanden, Kuhl and Wegen led the party of firemen, but
only towards morning did they become masters of the fire. The chapel
was saved, and the burning tower, after it had done its duty as beacon,
was extinguished.
The new building, the other wing, remained entirely uninjured.
Now, when only timid flames and clouds of smoke arose from the burning
place, when the streams of water hissed more faintly over the smoking
ruins, and the first rays of dawn gleamed in the east, Blanden and his
friends gained time for calm reflection, which the ceaseless zeal of
vigorous action had hitherto not permitted.
First the lord of the Castle mustered all its inhabitants, no one was
missing; weeping Beate must be comforted, she had lost all her
beautiful clothes, which had been left in the bedroom the day before.
Blanden promised compensation. But then the eager question arose as to
how the fire had originated? It had evidently broken out in that
extreme wing, which was connected with the front tower by the
subterranean passage, whence the secret stairs led upwards, but that
was the very spot whither usually no human being penetrated. Who could
have come there on that day? The subterranean passage had fallen in,
the secret approach from the lake to the front tower was overgrown.
Blanden knew that for many years, yes, all his life time, the medieval
romantic nature of that spot had remained undisturbed.
With a throbbing heart, Giulia listened to these discussions. One knew
that dark path, and had already traversed it. Verily he had deceived
her, concealed his shameful intentions, too soon already completed the
work of his promised revenge. It was Baluzzi, but where had he
remained? Was he still tarrying in the vicinity? What disclosures
menaced her? Not enough that he had laid the Castle, her new home, in
dust and ruins, he would now direct the deadly arrow against herself.
She had relied upon his word, upon the word of a malicious _bravo_.
In order entirely to extinguish the glowing cinders, the water streams
were now all directed upon the spot where the fire had broken out; a
few bold men, Kuhl at their head, ventured wherever a sudden flame
could still dart out.
Giulia felt a vague dread of the researches, and yet nothing could be
found there save dust and ashes.
Suddenly Kuhl's cry was heard by the expectant crowd.
"A corpse!"
The cry, repeated more loudly, passed on to the very last person, all
rushed nearer, in eager expectation.
"Baluzzi!" cried Giulia to herself, becoming pale, at that moment only
a sensation of horror seized her. A half-charred, half-shattered corpse
was carried towards them; the fact of its lying beneath the fallen
rubbish of stones had preserved it from being completely burned. The
half-consumed rags of garments showed that it was the corpse of a
woman--of a girl.
Blanden went closer; suddenly an idea flashed through him, all that
could still be recognised as the remains of a human being confirmed his
supposition. The incendiary was discovered, it could be none other than
half-witted Kaetchen.
"It is the idiot girl who danced with deformed Pietrowicz yesterday!"
Pietrowicz came nearer and stared at the remains of his partner.
"A death-dance Pietrowicz! You never anticipated that! But from
henceforth do not dream of ghosts!"
Pietrowicz stepped back as if struck, and crossed himself.
"To set fire to places," added Blanden by way of explanation, "is a
mania of such half-witted beings."
But he told himself that this girl was not more mentally deranged than
all who are animated with a blind, senseless passion; that she since
that visit to her attic chamber, since he had rejected her insane
offers of love, had brooded upon revenge against him, and had executed
it on his wedding day. The mixture of love and hatred, he knew was not
only peculiar to those whose minds are disordered, but in all moody,
narrow ones it works like an accumulated combustible, which at the
first shock explodes, scattering all into ruins.
"I might be superstitious," thought he to himself, "she always brings
evil and ruin to that which I love."
"Giulia," then he cried suddenly, "where are you, my sweet wife? You
live, then is all well!"
And he clasped her in his arms, while the morning sun rose glowingly
red on the horizon above the smoking Castle ruins, the closely
thronging crowd, and the corpse of halfwitted Kaetchen, the water nymph,
who had died in the fire.