Danira Part 12

A pause ensued; Danira stooped and began to put fresh fuel on the dying fire. Her hands showed that she had learned to work and did not spare herself, but every movement was full of grace and power.

Marco silently watched her, and suddenly advancing a step nearer seized the girl's arm, asking in an abrupt, vehement tone:

"Why do you scorn my suit? I am the chief, the richest man in the tribe, even richer than your brother. You need not labor like the other women, you shall be no slave in my house--no, Danira, I promise you!"

There was a strange blending of sullen menace and ardent pa.s.sion in the words, nay, even an accent of entreaty in the promise. It was evident that the rude son of the mountains was completely under the thrall of a feeling experienced for the first time, and which subdued his masculine obstinacy. He pleaded where, in his opinion, he was ent.i.tled to demand, but Danira with quiet decision released her arm.

"You cannot act contrary to your nature, Marco, even if you wished. You must rule and oppress, and when angered you know no limits. You bend even my brother absolutely to your will; what would be your wife's fate? And is this a time to think of marriage? Stephan has just told you what has happened; he has been defeated."

"For the third time! By all the saints, I would not have allowed myself to be routed, but Stephan is no leader--never has been."

"My brother is still very young," replied Danira. "He lacks experience, not courage, and can do nothing for a lost cause, for--whether you admit it or not--our cause is lost. You alone still hold out, but you cannot accomplish what is impossible."

"Silence!" cried Obrevic in a fierce outbreak of wrath. "What do you know about it? Has Stephan already infected you with his cowardice? He talks of submission, and you----"

"Not I!" Danira interrupted. "I can understand that you must conquer or fall. I wish I could die with you, if it comes to that. Destruction is no disgrace--but there is shame in submission."

The words had a ring of iron resolution which showed that the girl was quite capable of verifying them if matters proceeded to extremes. Marco felt this, for without averting his gaze from her face he said slowly:

"You ought to have been the man and Stephan the woman. You have inherited your father's blood--he did not."

He held out his hand and clasped hers with a firm pressure, such as was usually exchanged only between men. Danira had compelled him to recognize her as his equal. The clasp of the hand acknowledged it.

"You are right," he continued. "This is no time to think of marriage, we have better things to do. But when the time comes--and come it will--you shall be mine, Danira, I have sworn it and will keep my vow."

The light of pa.s.sion again glowed in his eyes, but the young girl was spared a reply, for Stephan entered and the two men began to equip themselves for departure. The farewell was brief and laconic. These rude sons of the mountains were fully capable of pa.s.sions but mere emotions where wholly alien to their natures.

Even Stephan did not think of taking any warmer leave of his young wife, who approached to hand him his gun, yet they had been only a few months wedded, and the two men might expect death at any hour. Marco, in the act of departure, turned once more to Danira with the question:

"Were there any soldiers in the village this morning?"

"Yes, but they only rested a short time, and marched on scarcely an hour after."

"Others will probably come to-night or early tomorrow. They are seeking us, as they have so often done, and will not find us unless we wish to be found. If they ask, put them on a false trail."

The young girl shook her head. "You know I cannot lie. And they never ask, they know we will not betray our people--Stephan is to join you with his men?"

"Yes, at once, that we may be united in the next attack. Farewell!"

The two men went out and ascended to the top of the ravine. Their dark figures were visible for a time, making their way vigorously against the gale, then they vanished and the village lay silent and desolate, apparently wrapped in slumber, as before.

Stephan Hersovac's house was also silent, but Danira still sat by the hearth, constantly putting fresh logs upon the dying fire, as if she dreaded darkness and sleep. Her sister-in-law had already gone to rest.

She did not understand how any one could shorten or wholly resign the only solace of a toilsome life, slumber, and had nothing to think about, so she was sound asleep in the dark room adjoining.

The young girl had closed the door leading to it, in order to be entirely alone, and was now gazing fixedly into the flames. Without the tempest raved, and within the fire snapped and crackled, but Danira saw and heard nothing. She was dreaming, dreaming with her burning eyes wide open, and from the floating smoke appeared visions far, far removed from the darkness and solitude of the hour--a wide, wide landscape, flooded with golden sunshine, and overarched by a deep-blue sky, towering mountain peaks, shimmering waves, and in the distance a surging sea, veiled by the mists of morning!

Above the whole scene hovered a face, looking down upon her with stern severity, bitter reproach, as in that hour on the rocky height, that hour which had decided the fate of two human beings.

They had not seen each other since, and to separation was added enmity, for the two parties to which they belonged now confronted each other in mortal strife. And yet--the visionary face began to lose its harsh expression, softened more and more, until finally it disappeared, and only two clear eyes gazed forth from the drifting wreaths of smoke, the bright, clear eyes of Gerald von Steinach, no longer full of hate and enmity, but instinct with that one emotion which had awaked in that hour never to die again.

Just at that moment one of the glowing logs broke and others fell, sending out a shower of sparks. Danira started and looked up. The dream still absorbed her so completely that she needed several seconds to recall where she was, but her surroundings soon brought her back to reality. Yes, this close, gloomy room, with its bare walls and wretched household furniture, its smoky, stifling atmosphere--this was the home for which she had longed since childhood, and this life, spent day after day in hard, common toil, dest.i.tute of every intellectual element, was the freedom of which she had dreamed.

The commandant's adopted daughter, who had been surrounded in his house with all the requisites of luxury and culture, now learned to know what she had given up and what she had obtained in exchange. Obrevic had told the truth. Here the man was the only person of importance, and the idea of freedom, fierce and unbridled as it might be, existed for him alone; the wife was merely the best piece of furniture in the house, the beast of burden who bore the labors of the home, and always trembled in slavish fear of her stern master. So the custom of the tribe required, and to this custom all who belonged to it must bow.

No matter, she had chosen her own fate, and Danira's resolute will repressed the loathing she felt for these surroundings and this treatment, which she had endured without complaint; but now the worst came. She was sought in marriage by a man with whose rudeness and fierceness she was sufficiently familiar, and thereby the last remnant of independence was lost. Marco's ardent pa.s.sion still gave her power over him. He still yielded to the influence of a higher nature, and was charmed and allured by what was refused, but only so long as it continued to be denied. When once his property, the old tyranny would a.s.sert its rights, and his wife would have no better lot than the other women of her race. Sooner or later she would be forced to choose between accepting him for her husband or quitting her brother's house, for the latter, incited and irritated by his friend, would undoubtedly try this means of subduing her will. Then she would be thrust out by her kindred, for whom she had sacrificed everything, homeless here as well as there!

Danira had started up, and was pacing to and fro in the narrow s.p.a.ce, as though pursued by torturing thoughts. Her movements grew more and more impetuous, her bosom heaved pa.s.sionately, and she suddenly sank down before the crucifix and pressed her burning brow against the cold wall. The prayer that rose to heaven was fervent and despairing, though silent; a prayer for deliverance, for release from the fetters that constantly encircled her more closely. She must sink under them, unless rescue came.

Meantime, the _bora_ was blowing outside with undiminished violence, and the two figures that now appeared on the edge of the ravine had great difficulty in making a stand against it. The moonlight showed that both men wore the Austrian uniform. They had moved forward as fast as the gale permitted, but now stopped, and were evidently trying to examine their surroundings.

"I don't know, Herr Lieutenant--the story doesn't seem to me exactly straight," said one. "The place down yonder is as dark and silent as if every human being in it were dead. Are you really going into it?"

It was George Moosbach's voice, and the reply came from the lips of Gerald von Steinach, who, in his usual quiet, resolute manner, said:

"Of course I am, for this is evidently the right place. It is the village our troops entered this morning. I recognize it distinctly from the description."

"But there isn't a mouse moving below, far less an Imperial Cha.s.seur.

We must have been already seen, yet no one has challenged us."

"I, too, noticed the absence of sentinels. I fear our men must have been forced to retreat, leaving the wounded officer in charge of the necessary escort. The message to me was all right at any rate, for the shepherd had brought, as his credentials, Salten's portfolio containing his notes."

"But it's queer that he wanted to speak to you in particular," George persisted. "I stick to it, I don't like the looks of the business, still less those of the ragged lad who acted as messenger. He had the face of a knave. If only there isn't some piece of deviltry in it!"

"You see mischief and snares everywhere," replied Gerald, impatiently, as he prepared to descend into the ravine. "Am I to refuse the request of a severely wounded comrade, who wants to see me and perhaps has a last commission to give? To be sure it would have been more agreeable to me to have taken the peril as well as the responsibility of this errand on myself alone."

"But not to me," replied George. "If our lives are at stake I would far rather be here, and it will come to that. That confounded boy has vanished as though the earth had swallowed him. It's the way with all these savages! The whole tribe is in league with witches."

"The lad has run on before to announce our arrival," said the young officer, who appeared to have no thought of danger. "He forgot to tell us the direction, so we must find the way ourselves. Yonder house seems to me to be the only one at all suitable for the reception of a wounded officer. We will go there first."

"Thank G.o.d, a man can at least breathe here!" muttered George, who had just gained the shelter of the rocks. "If they call this a 'little'

_bora_, I'd like to see a big one. I wish it would sweep this Krivoscia off the face of the earth and us back to Tyrol."

Meantime Gerald had approached the house, through whose closed shutters a faint ray of light was shining. The gale which had prevented his footsteps from being heard also drowned his knock, and as no answer came from within, the officer pushed the door open and entered.

The fire, still blazing brightly on the hearth, threw its glare full upon the newcomers, clearly revealing their figures, but at the same time dazzled them so that, for a moment, they could see nothing distinctly and did not even notice the woman kneeling in the shadow of the wall.

Danira started and tried to rise, but her limbs seemed to refuse their service. Motionless, she gazed with dilated eyes upon the vision which appeared before her from the storm and darkness outside, as though her own thoughts had a.s.sumed form and substance. Not until Gerald advanced did she become conscious of the reality of his presence. A half stifled cry escaped her lips. This sudden, unexpected meeting tore the veil from the girl's soul, and she called the name never before uttered:

"Gerald!"

"Danira!" came the answer in a tone of such pa.s.sionate joy that George, who had entered behind his lieutenant, hastened to his side, murmuring under his breath in an accent of horror:

"May all good spirits guard us! There's the witch!"

An instant's pause followed. Danira was the first who tried to regain her self-command, though it was only an attempt.

"Herr von Steinach! I thought--I did not expect to see you again."