CHAPTER XXXIX.

SAVED.

"There are two blows following close upon each other," cried Lenz. "I

will make the clocks play together, as a sign to those without."

He set the two musical clocks in motion, but the dreadful confusion of

sounds drove him almost frantic. Even in this hour of deadly danger a

discord was intolerable to him. He stopped them suddenly. With a pang

as of the severing of a heart-string he heard something in his great

clock snap at the hasty check.

Again they held their breath and listened; no further sounds were

heard.

"You rejoiced too soon," said Petrovitsch, his teeth chattering so that

he could hardly speak. "We are nearer death than life now."

The pounding was repeated from above. "Bum, bum!" imitated the child,

while Petrovitsch complained that he felt every blow of the hammer in

his brain.

Lenz could not have touched the right spring in one of the clocks, for

it suddenly began to play the air of the grand Hallelujah. "Hallelujah,

blessed be God the Lord!" sang Lenz with the full force of his voice.

Annele sang too, keeping one hand upon Lenz's shoulder, and the other

upon the head of the child. "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" cried a voice

from above.

Once more that piercing cry of old rang through the house "My Pilgrim!

my faithful brother!"

The chamber-door was battered down with an axe.

"Are you all alive?" cried Pilgrim,

"All; thank God!"

Pilgrim embraced Petrovitsch first, taking him for Lenz, and the old

man returned the greeting with a kiss on both cheeks, after the Russian

fashion.

Close upon Pilgrim came the engineer, followed by Faller, Don Bastian,

and the members of the Liederkranz.

"Is my William safe?" asked Lenz.

"Yes indeed, safe in my house," answered Don Bastian.

Some of the men shovelled away the snow from the outside of the

windows.

"Sun, sun! I behold you again!" cried Annele, sinking upon her knees.

The clock kept on playing the Hallelujah, the schoolmaster added his

voice, and the whole Liederkranz joined in with full, firm tones. As if

shaken by the mighty song, the snow-fortress in front of the house

suddenly loosened and rolled down the valley.

The house stood free.

The door into the kitchen was opened, and, upon the window being

lifted, the raven darted across the room above the head of the child

out into the open air.

"Birdie gone!" cried the child. A second raven was waiting without, and

the two now soaring high in the air, now swooping towards the ground,

flew up through the valley.

The first woman who made her way to Annele was Ernestine, who, having

heard of the disaster on the Morgenhalde, and also of the landlady's

death, had lost no time in coming to her cousin's help. She knelt

beside her. Lenz leaned upon Pilgrim's bosom.

Petrovitsch was beginning to be angry because no one paid him any

attention, when happily the engineer approached him, and, with a manner

at once respectful and cordial, congratulated him on his deliverance.

The best fellow of the whole company, thought the old man. Pilgrim

politely apologized for the embrace he had inadvertently given, and was

treated to a cordial shake of the hand.

"I have found a scrap of your mother's handwriting in the snow," said

Faller hoarsely; "most of the writing is washed out, but these few

words are left: 'This little plant is called edelweiss. Marie Lenz.'"

"The paper is mine!" cried Annele, rising. All looked at her in

astonishment. "Why, Annele!" screamed Ernestine, "what in Heaven's name

have you on your head? your hair is all white!"

Annele went to the mirror, and, with a cry of anguish, clasped both

hands above her head.

"An old woman! an old woman!" she moaned, and fell upon Lenz's neck.

After a while she rose, sobbing, dried her tears and whispered in his

ear, "That is my edelweiss that has grown for me under the snow."

Edelweiss: A Story · 第 39 / 40 章