AN ADVENTURE.
It was a lovely day in June--one of those glorious days when field and
wood are like a lofty cathedral, where the birds are the choir, and the
wind stirring the censers of the forest perfume, is the organ; while
man, in ecstasy with nature's beauty, glances enraptured from heaven to
earth--from earth again to heaven.
But pleasantest of all on such a day are the reveries that come and go
over the heart, under the shade of a noble oak that lifts its crowned
head to the clouds, while birds twitter love-songs among its branches,
and lovers lie dreaming on the green sward below.
So thought a young man as he reclined under the shadow of a tall
beech-tree that skirted the green border of a meadow, somewhere near the
woods around Schonbrunn. He had fastened his horse to a tree not far
off, and while the steed cropped the fresh grass, its owner revelled in
the luxury of sylvan solitude. With an expression of quiet enjoyment he
glanced now upon the soft, green meadow, now at the dim, shady woods,
and then at the blue and silver sky that parted him from heaven.
"Oh! how delightful it is," thought he, "to drop the shackles of
royalty, and to be a man! Oh, beautiful sky, with livery of 'kaiser
blue,' change thy hue, and hide me in a dark cloud that I may be safe
from the homage of courtiers and sycophants! If they knew that I was
here, how soon would they pursue and imprison me again in my gilded cage
of imperial grandeur!"
Just then, in the distance, was heard the sound of a hunting horn, and
the emperor's soliloquy was cut short. An expression of annoyance was
visible on his features, as he listened. But instead of advancing, the
sounds receded until finally they were lost in the sighing of the wind
among the forest-trees.
"They have passed by," exclaimed he joyfully. "This day is mine, and I
am free. What a charm is in that word FREEDOM! I feel it now; no emperor
am I, but a man, to whom the animals will turn their backs, without
suspecting that they refuse to look upon an anointed sovereign. But
hark! what is that? A doe--a timid doe--perhaps an enchanted princess
who can resume her shape at the bidding of a prince only. Here am I,
sweet princess--ready, as soon as you become a woman, to leap into your
arms."
The emperor grasped his fowling-piece that was leaning against the
beech. But the doe caught the sound, raised her graceful head, and her
mild eye sought the enemy that threatened her. She saw him, and as he
raised the gun to take aim, she cleared the road with one wild bound,
and in a few moments was lost in a thicket.
The emperor leaped on his horse, exclaiming, "I must catch my enchanted
princess;" and giving his steed the rein, away they flew on the track of
the doe; away they flew over fallen trunks and through brier and copse,
until the panting steed would have recoiled before a wide hedge--but the
emperor cried, "Over it! over it! The princess is beyond!" and the
foaming horse gathered up his forelegs for the leap. He made a spring,
but missed, and with a loud crash, horse and rider fell into the ditch
on the farther side of the hedge.
The emperor fell under the horse, who, in its efforts to rise, inflicted
dreadful suffering upon its master. He felt that his senses were leaving
him, and thought that he was being crushed to death. The load upon his
breast was insufferable, and in his ears there came a sound like the
roaring of the ocean. He uttered one cry for help, commended himself to
Heaven, and fainted.
How long he lay there, he never knew. When he opened his weary eyes
again, he lay on the sward near the hedge, with his head resting upon
the lap of a beautiful girl, who was contemplating him with looks of
tenderest pity. By her side knelt another young girl, who was bathing
his temples with water.
"Look, Marianne," exclaimed she joyfully; "he begins to move. Oh, dear
sister, we have saved his life."
"Still, Kathi," whispered the other. "He has not yet his senses. He
looks as if he were dreaming of angels. But he will soon awake."
"I don't wonder that be dreams of angels, Marianne, when he looks at
you," said Kathi, contemplating her beautiful sister. "But now that he
is safe, I will go and look after his horse. Poor animal! he trembles
yet with fright, and I think he has lamed his leg. I will lead him to
the spring where he can drink and cool his foot. You know the curate
says that water is a great doctor for man and beast."
So saying she took up the bridle, and coaxing the horse gently, he
followed her, although he shuddered with the pain of his limb.
She disappeared behind a little grove of trees, while her sister
contemplated their handsome patient. He lay perfectly quiet, his eyes
open, but feeling too weary for speech. He felt uncertain whether he
waked or dreamed, nor did he care; for the present moment was
unutterably sweet. His pain was slight, and with his head pillowed upon
the lap of the lovely girl whose face was beautiful as that of Eve in
the groves of Eden, the emperor gazed on in rapture.
Marianne became gradually aware that his glances spoke admiration, for
her color slowly deepened, until it glowed like the petals of a
newly-opened rose. The emperor smiled as he watched her blushes. "Do
angels then blush?" asked he softly.
"He still dreams," said Marianne, shaking her head. "I thought just now
that his senses were returning."
"No, child," replied Joseph, "I do not dream. I see before me the
loveliest vision that ever blessed the eyes of man, or else--I have
overtaken the enchanted princess. Oh, princess! it was cruel of you to
lure one over that treacherous hedge!" Marianne looked alarmed. "Poor,
poor young man!" murmured she in a low voice, "he is delirious. I must
moisten his head again."
She extended her hand to the little pail that held the water, but Joseph
caught it, and pressed it warmly to his lips. Marianne blushed anew,
with painful embarrassment, and sought to withdraw her hand.
The emperor would not yield it. "Let me kiss the hand of the angel that
has rescued me from death," said he. "For 'tis you, is it not, who saved
my life?"
"My sister and I, sir, were coming through the wood," replied Marianne,
"when we saw your horse galloping directly toward the hedge. We knew
what must happen, and ran with all our might toward you, but before we
reached you, the horse had made the leap. Oh, I shudder when I think of
it!"
And her face grew white again, while her lustrous eyes were dimmed with
tears.
"Go on, go on, my--. No, I will not call you princess lest you should
think me delirious. I am not delirious, beautiful Marianne! but I dream,
I dream of my boyhood and almost believe that I have come upon enchanted
ground. Your sweet voice--your lovely face --this delicious wood--it all
seems like fairy-land! But speak on; where did you find me?"
"Under the horse, sir; and the first thing we did was to free you from
its weight. We took the rein, and, after some efforts, we got him to his
feet. Kathi led him away, and I--I--"
"You, Marianne! tell me--what did you do?"
"I," said she, looking down--"I bore you as well as I was able to this
spot. I do not know how I did it, but fright gives one very great
strength."
"Go on, go on!"
"We had been gathering mushrooms in the woods, when we saw you. As soon
as Kathi had tied the horse, she ran for her little pail, poured out the
mushrooms, and filling it with water, we bathed your head until you
revived. This, sir, is the whole history, and now that you have
recovered, I will help you to rise."
"Not yet, not yet, enchantress. I cannot raise my head from its
delicious pillow. Let me dream for a few moments longer. Fairy-land is
almost like heaven."
Marianne said no more, but her eyes sought the ground, and her face grew
scarlet. The emperor still gazed upon her wonderful beauty, and thought
that nothing he had ever seen in gilded halls could approach this
peasant-girl, whose red dress and black bodice were more dazzling to his
eyes than the laces and diamonds of all Vienna assembled.
"Where," asked he, observing that her snowy shoulders were bare, "where
did you get a kerchief to bathe my head?"
Marianne started and laid her hands upon her neck. "Good Heaven!"
murmured she to herself; "it was the kerchief from my own bosom!"
Unconsciously she reached her hand to take it from the pail.
"What!" said Joseph, stopping her; "would you wear that dripping
kerchief? No, no! let the sky, the birds, and the wood-nymphs look at
those graceful shoulders; and if I may not look, I will shut my eyes."
"Oh! do not shut your eyes; they are blue as the sky itself!" replied
Marianne. But as she spoke she drew forward the long braids that trailed
behind her on the ground, and quickly untwisting them, her hair fell in
showers around her neck and shoulders, so that they were effectually
concealed.
"You are right," said the emperor. "Your hair is as beautiful as the
rest of your person. It surpasses the sables of a Russian princess. You
know perfectly well how to adorn yourself, you bewitching child."
"I did not mean to adorn myself, sir," said Marianne. "Why, then, did
you cover yourself with that superb mantle?"
"Because, sir, I--I was cold."
"Are you so icy, then, that you freeze in midsummer?"
She said nothing, but bent her head in confusion. Luckily, at that
moment, Kathi came in sight with the horse.
"Now, sir," exclaimed Marianne, "you can rise, can you not?"
"Not unless you help me, for my head is yet very light."
"Well, sir, if that be so, then stay where you are, and try to sleep,
while I pray to the blessed Virgin to protect you."
Meanwhile Kathi came forward, and, when she saw the emperor, nodded her
head.
"God be praised, sir," cried she, "you have your senses once more! You
have gotten off cheaply with nothing but a black eye. But, bless me! how
quiet you are, Marianne! Who would think, that while the gentleman was
out of his senses, you were crying as if he had been your sweetheart!
Why, sir, her tears fell upon your face and waked you."
"Pardon me," whispered Marianne, "I wiped them away with the kerchief."
"Why did you deprive me of those sweet tears?" whispered the emperor.
But Kathi was talking all the while.
"Now," continued she, "try to get up. Put one arm around me, and the
other around Marianne, and we will set you upon your legs, to find out
whether they are sound. Come--one, two, three; now!" With the help of
the strong peasant-girl, the emperor arose and stood erect. But he
complained of dizziness, and would have Marianne to sustain him.
She approached with a smile, while he, drawing her gently to his side,
looked into her eyes. The poor girl trembled, she knew not why, for
assuredly she was not afraid.
Kathi, who had gone back for the horse, now came up, leading him to his
master. "Now," said she, "we are all ready to go. Your horse is a little
lame, and not yet able to bear you. Whither shall we lead you, sir?
Where is your home?"
"My home!" exclaimed the emperor, with troubled mien. "I had forgotten
that I had a home." This question had awakened him from his idyl.
"Where is my home?" echoed he sadly. "It is in Vienna. Can you put me on
the road thither?"
"That can we, sir; but it is a long way for such a gentleman as you to
travel on foot."
"Let us go, then, to the highway, and perhaps I may there find some
conveyance."
"Well, then," cried the gleeful Kathi, "forward, march!"
"Not yet, Kathi. Not until I have thanked you for the great service you
have rendered me. Let me give you some testimony of my gratitude. Before
we part, let me gratify some wish of yours. Speak first, Kathi."
"H'm," said Kathi, "I have many wishes. It is not so easy to say what I
want."
"Well, take time, and think for a moment, child."
Kathi looked as if she were making a bold resolve.
"That ring upon your finger--it is the prettiest thing I ever saw. Will
you give it to me?"
"Kathi!" exclaimed Marianne, "how can you ask such a thing?"
"Why not?" returned Kathi, reddening; "did he not tell me to say what I
wanted?"
"Yes," said Marianne in a low voice, "but it may be a gift--perhaps it
is from his sweetheart!"
"No, Marianne," replied the emperor sadly, "I have no sweetheart. No one
cares whether I give or keep the ring. Take it, Kathi."
Kathi held out her hand, and when it had been placed upon her finger she
turned it around to see it glisten, and laughed for joy.
"And you, Marianne," said Joseph, changing his tone as he addressed the
beautiful creature who stood at his side, "tell me your wish. Let it be
something hard to perform, for then I shall be all the happier to grant
it."
But Marianne spoke not a word.
"Why, Marianne," cried Kathi impatiently, "do you not see that he is a
rich and great lord, who will give you any thing you ask? Why do you
stand so dumb?"
"Come, dear Marianne," whispered the emperor, "have you no wish that I
can gratify?"
"Yes, sir," cried Marianne, in a voice scarcely audible.
"Speak it, then, sweet one, and it shall be granted."
"Then, sir," said Marianne, her cheeks glowing, though her eyes were
still cast down, "my father's house is hard by. Come and rest awhile
under his roof, and let me give you a glass of milk, and to your horse
some fresh hay."
The emperor seemed to grow very weak while Marianne spoke, for he clung
to her as though he had been afraid to fall.
"Yes, Marianne," replied he, "and God bless you for the kind suggestion!
Let me for once forget the world and imagine that I, too, am a peasant,
with no thought of earth beyond these enchanted woods. Take me to the
cottage where your father lives, and let me eat of his bread. I am
hungry."
And the emperor, with his strange suite, set off for the cottage of
Conrad the peasant.