On the Heights Part 43

Baum availed himself of every opportunity to speak with Walpurga. He was in deep affliction; his wife was seriously ill, and Walpurga endeavored to console him. In return, Baum lent a willing ear to all her complaints, for she had just heard from home, that Zenza denied all knowledge of the little golden heart that Countess Irma had sent to the child.

"Ah, and so your countess has a golden heart left to give away," said Baum in a mocking voice. "You ought to be glad to have such a friend."

"And so I am. Oh, if she were only here again, then it would be a real paradise. I don't worry about Zenza's making away with the golden heart; there must be some bad people, or else the world would be too beautiful."

"And I tell you, it's only half a life when the king's away. Just wait till he comes back and see how it will be then. When there's no man about, it isn't a complete house."

The queen approached and Baum withdrew.

"What was that man saying to you?" asked the queen.

"We were telling each other of our troubles; he has great longing for the king and I, dear queen, have great longing for my Countess Irma."

"I long for her, too; but she has asked to have her leave of absence extended for another fortnight."

Peacefully and calmly, the days pa.s.sed by. Walpurga's favorite resort was in the neighborhood of the dairy-farm; for there were cows there, and cows are the same everywhere, and don't know that they belong to the king, or that their milk is served at his table.

Walpurga remarked this one day to Baum, who had discovered that he could meet her there, and he replied:

"Oh, how clever you are; if I only had got a wife like you."

"There are dozens like me."

"Oh, not so clever as you are. You could get far in the world, if you only wanted to."

"How far should I go?" said Walpurga. "I want to go home and no farther."

"No one will think the worse of you for that, but one can make a new home."

"I don't understand you."

"I can't explain now. Countess Brinkenstein is coming. Meet me in the shrubbery behind the chapel, this evening when they're all at table, I've something good to tell you."

Walpurga had not time to reply. Baum saw Countess Brinkenstein approaching and, in a loud voice, gave the dairy inspector an order from the head cook, and then walked away quickly, respectfully saluting the countess as he pa.s.sed.

Countess Brinkenstein administered a severe reproof to Mademoiselle Kramer for having allowed Walpurga to stand there with the prince, and chatter with the servants.

Mademoiselle Kramer made no reply, and only motioned Walpurga to go into the vine-clad arbor.

Walpurga was busy conjecturing what sort of advice Baum might have to give her. He knew lots of things and perhaps knew of some clever stroke, by which Hansei, her mother and the child might be brought to the palace. But Hansei wouldn't do for a lackey. Perhaps, though, they could make him court fisherman or chief woodsman of the royal forest.

When evening came, she was quite uneasy. It was not the right thing for her to have a secret meeting with any man but her husband; but, perhaps the place may be given away to-morrow, and then it would be too late.

She sat by the window and looked up at the stars. Her cheeks glowed, she drew a deep breath.

"What ails you?" inquired Mademoiselle Kramer.

"I feel so warm and oppressed."

"I'll send for the doctor."

"I don't need the doctor. Just let me sit here quietly. But no; let me walk up and down in the garden for a few minutes and I'll feel better."

"The maid can go with you."

"No, I don't need any one; I'll feel better if I go alone."

"But, I beg of you, don't go too far, and come back soon. You've seen, to-day, how every misstep of yours draws reproof on me."

"Yes, I'll come back soon."

Walpurga went out at the back door. The gravel grated under her footsteps and she trod more lightly. The air was laden with the perfume of the flowers; the swans in the lake uttered a strange sound, like a deep, m.u.f.fled trumpet tone; the sky sparkled with countless stars and, just as Walpurga looked up, she saw a brilliant meteor and exclaimed: "Hansei!"

In her innermost heart she wished for nothing but her husband's happiness. She stopped when she had uttered his name. She felt as if she had better return. She was a married woman and oughtn't to meet a strange man at night, even though it was by the chapel.

Something ran across the path. Was it a cat, a martin or a weasel?

"Return," said an inner voice, but she went on, nevertheless. She reached the arbor. Baum stepped forth from behind a vine-clad column.

He held out both his hands to her and she offered him her own. He tried to draw her closer to him but she stood firm.

"What have you to tell me?" asked Walpurga.

"Nothing but what's good. You see, we lesser folks must help each other, and you're so much to me that I could do anything for you."

"If you can do me a good service, I shall be grateful as long as I live--I and my husband and my child. Tell me quick; I'm in a hurry."

"Then we can leave it for some other time."

"No, tell me now. What do you mean?"

"I really meant nothing at all, but you see we must always wait on others, and so I thought that we might have a quarter of an hour to ourselves. I only wanted to tell you that you are the light of my life, my happiness. When I look at you, and listen to you, I'd like to do--I don't know what, and I can't tell."

"It isn't necessary, either; and let me tell you, this is very wicked of you."

"Is it wicked that I love you to distraction?"

"Yes, and doubly wicked that you fooled me here and made me believe that you had something good to tell me."

"And so I have," said Baum, quickly; "forgive me for what I've done; if you do, I'll tell you the rest."

"Yes, I'll forgive you, but make haste."

"Well," said Baum with great composure, "it's simply this. He who stands at the manger and doesn't eat, is a fool. Do you understand me?"

"Of course; it doesn't take much to know that."

"Yes, but you don't take my meaning. A court like this is a full manger, and you'll be a great fool if you go away without having taken enough to satisfy yourself and your child for life."