Pan Part 21

"You look as if you had no troubles, Eva, my love."

"You call me your love! I am an ignorant woman, but I will be true to you. I will be true to you if I should die for it. Herr Mack grows harsher and harsher every day, but I do not mind it; he is furious, but I do not answer him. He took hold of my arm and went grey with fury.

One thing troubles me."

"And what is it that troubles you?" "Herr Mack threatens you. He says to me: 'Aha, it's that lieutenant you've got in your head all the time!' I answer: 'Yes, I am his.' Then he says: 'Ah, you wait. I'll soon get rid of him.' He said that yesterday."

"It doesn't matter; let him threaten..." And with closed eyes she throws her arms about my neck. A quiver pa.s.ses through her. The horse stands waiting.

XXVIII

I sit up in the hills, mining. The autumn air is crystal about me. The strokes of my drill ring steady and even. aesop looks at me with wondering eyes. Wave after wave of content swells through my breast. No one knows that I am here among the lonely hills.

The birds of pa.s.sage have gone; a happy journey and welcome back again!

t.i.tmouse and blackcap and a hedge-sparrow or so live now alone in the bush and undergrowth: tuitui! All is so curiously changed--the dwarf birch bleeds redly against the grey stones, a harebell here and there shows among the heather, swaying and whispering a little song: sh! But high above all hovers an eagle with outstretched neck, on his way to the inland ridges.

And the evening comes; I lay my drill and my hammer in under the rock and stop to rest. All things are glooming now. The moon glides up in the north; the rocks cast gigantic shadows. The moon is full; it looks like a glowing island, like a round riddle of bra.s.s that I pa.s.s by and wonder at. aesop gets up and is restless.

"What is it, aesop? As for me, I am tired of my sorrow; I will forget it, drown it. Lie still, aesop, I tell you; I will not be pestered. Eva asks: 'Do you think of me sometimes?' I answer: 'Always.' Eva asks again: 'And is it any joy to you, to think of me?' I answer: 'Always a joy, never anything but a joy.' Then says Eva: 'Your hair is turning grey.' I answer: 'Yes, it is beginning to turn grey.' But Eva says: 'Is it something you think about, that is turning it grey?' And to that I answer: 'Maybe.' At last Eva says: 'Then you do not think only of me...'

aesop, lie still; I will tell you about something else instead..."

But aesop stands sniffing excitedly down towards the valley, pointing, and dragging at my clothes. When at last I get up and follow, he cannot get along fast enough. A flush of red shows in the sky above the woods.

I go on faster; and there before my eyes is a glow, a huge fire. I stop and stare at it, go on a few steps and stare again.

My hut is ablaze.

XXIX

The fire was Herr Mack's doing. I saw through it from the first. I lost my skins and my birds' wings, I lost my stuffed eagle; everything was destroyed. What now? I lay out for two nights under the open sky, without going to Sirilund to ask for shelter. At last I rented a deserted fisher-hut by the quay. I stopped the cracks with dried moss, and slept on a load of red horseberry ling from the hills. Once more my needs were filled.

Edwarda sent me a message to say she had heard of my misfortune and that she offered me, on her father's behalf, a room at Sirilund. Edwarda touched! Edwarda generous! I sent no answer. Thank Heaven, I was no longer without shelter, and it gave me a proud joy to make no answer to Edwarda's offer. I met her on the road, with the Baron; they were walking arm in arm. I looked them both in the face and bowed as I pa.s.sed. She stopped, and asked:

"So you will not come and stay with us, Lieutenant?"

"I am already settled in my new place," I said, and stopped also.

She looked at me; her bosom was heaving. "You would have lost nothing by coming to us," she said.

Thankfulness moved in my heart, but I could not speak.

The Baron walked on slowly.

"Perhaps you do not want to see me any more," she said.

"I thank you, Edwarda, for offering me shelter when my house was burned," I said. "It was the kinder of you, since your father was hardly willing." And with bared head I thanked her for her offer.

"In G.o.d's name, will you not see me again, Glahn?" she said suddenly.

The Baron was calling.

"The Baron is calling," I said, and took off my hat again respectfully.

And I went up into the hills, to my mining. Nothing, nothing should make me lose my self-possession any more. I met Eva. "There, what did I say?" I cried. "Herr Mack cannot drive me away. He has burned my hut, and I already have another hut..." She was carrying a tar-bucket and brush. "What now, Eva?"

Herr Mack had a boat in a shed under the cliff, and had ordered her to tar it. He watched her every step--she had to obey.

"But why in the shed there? Why not at the quay?"

"Herr Mack ordered it so..

"Eva, Eva, my love, they make a slave of you and you do not complain.

See! now you are smiling again, and life streams through your smile, for all that you are a slave."

When I got up to my mining work, I found a surprise. I could see that someone had been on the spot. I examined the tracks and recognised the print of Herr Mack's long, pointed shoes. What could he be ferreting about here for? I thought to myself, and looked round. No one to be seen--I had no suspicion.

And I fell to hammering with my drill, never dreaming what harm I did.

x.x.x

The mail-packet came; it brought my uniform; it was to take the Baron and all his cases of scales and seaweeds on board. Now it was loading up barrels of herrings and oil at the quay; towards evening it would be off again.

I took my gun and put a heavy load of powder in each barrel. When I had done that, I nodded to myself. I went up into the hills and filled my mine with powder as well; I nodded again. Now everything was ready. I lay down to wait.

I waited for hours. All the time I could hear the steamer's winches at work hoisting and lowering. It was already growing dusk. At last the whistle sounded: the cargo was on board, the ship was putting off. I still had some minutes to wait. The moon was not up, and I stared like a madman through the gloom of the evening.

When the first point of the bow thrust out past the islet, I lit my slow match and stepped hurriedly away. A minute pa.s.sed. Suddenly there was a roar--a spurt of stone fragments in the air--the hillside trembled, and the rock hurtled crashing down the abyss. The hills all round gave echo.

I picked up my gun and fired off one barrel; the echo answered time and time again. After a moment I fired the second barrel too; the air trembled at the salute, and the echo flung the noise out into the wide world; it was as if all the hills had united in a shout for the vessel sailing away.

A little time pa.s.sed; the air grew still, the echoes died away in all the hills, and earth lay silent again. The ship disappeared in the gloom.

I was still trembling with a strange excitement. I took my drills and my gun under my arm and set off with slack knees down the hillside. I took the shortest way, marking the smoking track left by my avalanche.

aesop followed me, shaking his head all the time and sneezing at the smell of burning.

When I came down to the shed, I found a sight that filled me with violent emotion. A boat lay there, crushed by the falling rock. And Eva--Eva lay beside it, mangled and broken, dashed to pieces by the shock--torn beyond recognition. Eva--lying there, dead.