Riven Bonds Volume Ii Part 1

Riven Bonds.

Vol. II.

by E. Werner.

CHAPTER I.

"No!" said Captain Almbach. "That cannot be! I have to make a confession to you, Ella, at the risk of your showing me to the door."

"What have you to confess to me?" asked the astonished Ella.

Hugo looked down.

"That I am still the 'adventurer,' whom you once took so sternly to task. It did not improve him certainly, but he never attempted since to approach you with his follies, and cannot to-day either. To make my tale short, I had no idea you were the inhabitant of this villa, when I directed my steps here. I had myself announced to a perfectly strange gentleman, because Marchese Tortoni had spoken of a young lady, who lived here in complete seclusion, and yes--I knew before hand, that you would look at me in this way--"

Her glance had indeed met him sadly and reproachfully; then she turned silently away and looked out of the window. A pause ensued--Hugo went to her side.

"It was chance which brought me here now, Ella. I am waiting for my lecture."

"You are free, and have no duty to injure," said the young wife, coldly. "Besides, my opinion in such matters can hardly have any influence upon you, Herr Captain Almbach."

"And so Herr Captain Almbach must retire, to find the doors closed against him next time, is it not so?" Unmistakable agitation was heard in his voice. "You are very unjust towards me. That I, thinking to find perfect strangers here, did undertake an adventure--well, that is nothing new to me; but that I was guilty of the boundless folly of confessing it to you, although I had the best excuse for deception, that is very new, and I was only forced to it by your eyes, which looked at me so big and enquiringly, that I became red as a schoolboy, and could not go away with a lie. Therefore I hear Herr Captain Almbach again, who, thank G.o.d, had disappeared from our conversation for the last quarter of an hour."

Ella shook her head slightly.

"You have spoiled all my pleasure in our meeting now, certainly----"

"Did it please you? Did it really?" cried Hugo, interrupting her eagerly, with sparkling eyes.

"Of course," said she, quietly. "One is always pleased, when far away, to find greetings and remembrances from home."

"Yes," said Hugo, slowly. "I had quite forgotten that we are country people also. Then you only recognised the German in me? I must confess honestly that my feelings were not so purely patriotic when I saw you again."

"Notwithstanding the unavoidable disillusion which your discovery prepared for you?" asked Ella, somewhat sharply.

Captain Almbach looked at her unabashed for a few seconds.

"You make me suffer greatly for the imprudent confession, Ella. Be it so! I must bear it. Only one question before I go, or one pet.i.tion rather. May I come again?"

She hesitated with her reply; he came a step nearer.

"May I come again? Ella, what have I done to you that you would banish me also from your threshold?"

There lay a reproach in the words, which did not fail to make an impression upon her.

"I do not do so either," replied she, gently. "If you would seek me again, our door shall not be closed to _you_."

With quick movement, Hugo caught her hand, and carried it to his lips, but those lips rested on it unusually long, much longer than is customary in kissing a hand, and Ella appeared to think so, as she drew it somewhat hastily away. Equally hastily Captain Almbach drew himself up; the slight red tint which had before lain on his forehead was there again, and he, who was at other times never at a loss for a civility or suitable reply, said now merely monosyllabically--

"Thank you. Until we meet again, then!"

"Until we meet again!" replied Ella, with a confusion that contrasted strangely with the calm and decision which she had shown throughout the whole interview. It almost seemed as if she repented the permission just given, and which still she could not withdraw.

A few minutes later, Captain Almbach found himself in the open air, and slowly he began his return to Mirando. He had again carried out his will, and fulfilled the promise made so confidently that morning. But he seemed little inclined to make much of his triumph. Looking back to the villa, he pa.s.sed his hand across his forehead, like some one awaking from a dream.

"I believe that the elegiac atmosphere of Mirando has infected me," he muttered, angrily. "I begin to look upon the simplest things from the most fantastically, romantic point of view. What is there, then, in this meeting that I cannot get over it? The Erlau drawing-rooms have been a good school to be sure, and the pupil has learned unexpectedly, quickly, and easily. I suspected something of that for long, and yet--folly! What is it to me if Reinhold learn at last to repent his blindness! And she does not even know how near he is, so near that a meeting cannot be avoided much longer. I fear any attempt at approaching her would cost Reinhold much dearer than that first one.

What a singularly icy expression there was in her face when I hinted at the possibility of a reconciliation! That;" here Hugo breathed more freely, perhaps, in unacknowledged but great satisfaction--"that said, No! to all eternity. And if chance or fate lead them together, now, it is too late--now _he_ has lost her."

On the mirror-like blue sea a boat glided, which, coming from S----, bore in the direction of Mirando. The bark's elegant exterior showed that it was the property of some rich family, and the two rowers wore the livery of the Tortonis. Nevertheless, for the gentleman, who besides these two was the sole occupant of the boat, neither the rapid motion nor the magnificent panorama all around appeared to possess the slightest interest. He leant back in his seat, with closed eyes, as if asleep, and only looked up at last when the boat lay to at the marble steps, which led directly down from the villa's terrace to the sea. He stepped out. A sign dismissed the two men, who, like all the Marchese's servants, were accustomed to pay to their master's celebrated guest, the same respect as to himself. A few strokes of the oars carried the boat to one side, and immediately after it was anch.o.r.ed in the little harbour away by the park.

Reinhold stepped on to the steps, and ascended them slowly. He came from S----, where Beatrice had, in the meantime, arrived. As usual, the actress here, also, where all foreigners and inhabitants of position a.s.sembled for their _villegiatura_, was surrounded by acquaintances and admirers, and Reinhold no sooner found himself at her side than the same fate, and, indeed, to a greater extent, became his. In Beatrice's vicinity there was no rest and no relaxation for him; she dragged him at once into the vortex with her. The hours, which he intended to spend with her, had become days, which in excitement and distraction did not yield the palm to the last weeks in town, and after having accompanied her yester evening to a large fete, which had continued the whole night until morning's dawn, he had torn himself away at day-break, and thrown himself into the boat in order to return to Mirando.

He drew a deep breath at the quiet and loneliness around him, undisturbed even by a word of greeting or welcome. Cesario, as he knew, had early this morning undertaken an expedition to the neighbouring island, in Hugo's company, from which both were only expected back towards evening, and for strangers the villa was not yet accessible.

The young Marchese did not like to be disturbed in the seclusion of his _villegiatura_, and his steward had received orders not to allow any strange visitors to enter during his residence, an order which was carried out most strictly, to the great dissatisfaction of travellers, by whom Mirando was considered a favourite goal for excursions. The estate, with its extensive gardens, and magnificent buildings, which in the north would certainly have been called a castle, and here merely bore the modest name of a villa, was celebrated far and near, not only on account of its paradise-like situation and the boundless view over the sea, but also because of the rich art-treasures which it concealed inside, and which now merely charmed the eyes of the few who had the good fortune of being permitted to call themselves the Marchese's guests.

Short of rest, tired, and yet unable to seek repose and sleep, Reinhold threw himself on to one of the marble benches in the shade of the colonnade; he felt strained to the utmost exhaustion. Yes, these sultry Italian nights, with their intoxicating perfume of flowers, and their moonlight quiet, or the noisy clamour of a feast, these sunshiny days, with the ever-blue sky, and the glowing splendour of the earth's colours, they had given him everything of which he had ever dreamed in the cold, dreary north; but they had also cost him the best part of his life's strength. The time was long since pa.s.sed when all existence appeared to be only one course of glowing intoxication and of inspiring dreams to the young composer. This had lasted for months, for years; then gradually weariness came on, and at last the awaking, when this beautiful world, sparkling with colour, lay so empty and cold before him, where the ideals collapsed, and freedom, once so fiercely longed for, became an endless desert, to which no duty, but also no desire set a limit. With the fetters which he had broken so eagerly and ruthlessly he had also lost the reins; he wandered out into the boundless, and the boundlessness had become a curse to him.

Certainly, the internal Prometheus-like spark preserved the artist from the fate which overtook so many others, from that helpless sinking into a sensation of being surfeited and indifferent to everything; but the same power which ever and ever again forced him out of it, drove him helpless. .h.i.ther and thither, seeking the only thing which was wanting, and ever would be wanting. Italy in all its beauty was not able to give it to him, not Beatrice's glowing love, not art, which had offered him the fullest wealth of fame--the phantom melted so soon as he stretched out his arms towards it. And even if the wondrous flora of the south had displayed itself to him in all its exhilarating glory, still he would not have found the blue flower of the fairy legends.

Reinhold started up suddenly from his dreams, something had disturbed him in them. Was it a step, a rustle?--he raised himself, and, with extreme surprise, saw a lady standing only a few paces distant on the terrace, gazing out over the sea. What could it mean? How did this stranger come here, now when Mirando was not accessible to visitors; she could only a few minutes since have pa.s.sed through the open door leading into the saloon, which contained the celebrated collection of pictures, belonging to the villa, and appeared to have remarked the solitary dreamer in the colonnade as little as he had remarked her.

Reinhold had long since become indifferent to woman's beauty, but involuntarily this apparition enchained him. She stood under the shadow of one of the gigantic vases which ornamented the terrace; only the bowed head was caught by the full sunlight, and the heavy blonde plaits gleamed in the rays like spun gold. Her face was half averted. Her delicate, clear and n.o.bly chiselled profile could hardly be seen. Her slight figure in its airy white robes leaned lightly in an undeniably graceful att.i.tude against the marble bal.u.s.trade; her left hand rested on it, while the drooping right one held her straw hat decorated with flowers. She stood immovable, quite lost in contemplation of the sea, and had evidently no idea that she was observed.

It was still early in the day. The morning had risen bright and clear out of the sea, and now lay smiling sunnily in dewy freshness over the whole country. A blue mist still encircled the mountains and the distant coasts, whose lines seemed to tremble as if blown with a breath on the horizon, and the still moist air was quivering as if with a silvery light. There was something fairy-like in this morning hour and this surrounding, above all in yonder white figure with the golden glimmering hair, and Mirando itself, with its white marble pillars and terraces, appeared like a fairy castle, which had risen out of the liquid depths. Deep blue was the arching sky above, and deep blue the sea laving its feet. The scent of flowers was wafted hither from the gardens, but ghostly silence reigned everywhere, as if all life were banished or sunk in sleep. No sound anywhere, nothing but the gentle splashing of the sea, ever the same dream-like murmur of the waves, which kissed the marble steps, and before one nothing to be seen save the blue, heaving expanse, which extended far away into boundless distance.

Reinhold remained motionless in his position, he would not disturb the charm of this moment by any movement. It was as if a breath of the old legendary poems of his home were wafted to him, long forgotten but rising now suddenly before him with all their melancholy charms.

Suddenly this deep calm was interrupted by the clear joyfulness of a child's voice. A boy of about seven or eight rushed up the steps of the terrace, a large shining mussel sh.e.l.l in his hand, which he had picked up somewhere on the sh.o.r.e. The child was evidently most delighted with his discovery, his whole little face beamed, as, with glowing cheeks and streaming locks, he hastened towards the lady, who turned her head round at his cry.

With a half suppressed exclamation, Reinhold sprang up and remained as if rooted to the ground. The moment she had turned her face completely towards him, he recognised the stranger, who bore Ella's features and yet could not be Ella. Bewildered, deadly pale, he stared at the lady, whose poetical appearance he had just been admiring, and who yet, in every feature, resembled his so despised, and at last forsaken wife.

She, too, had recognised him; the intense pallor which also overspread her face, betrayed it, as did her sudden start backwards. She grasped the marble bal.u.s.trade as if seeking for support, but now the boy had reached her and, holding the mussel aloft with both hands, cried triumphantly--

"Mamma! dear mamma, see what I have found!"

This roused Reinhold from his stupor. Bewilderment, fright, astonishment, all disappeared as he heard his child's voice. Following the impulse of the moment, he rushed forward, and stretched out his arms, to draw the boy eagerly to his breast.

"Reinhold!"

Almbach stopped as if struck; but the name was not for him, only for the boy, who, immediately obeying her call, hastened to his mother.

With a rapid movement she placed both arms around him, as if to protect and conceal her child, and then drew herself up. The pallor had not left her face yet, her lips still trembled, but her voice sounded firm and energetic.

"You must not trouble strangers, Reinhold. Come, my child! We will go."

Almbach started, and stepped back a pace; the tone was as new to him as the whole person of her, whom he once called his wife. Had he not recognised her voice, he would have believed more than ever in a delusion. The little one, on the contrary, looked up in surprise at the rebuke. He had not even gone near to the strange gentleman, and certainly had not troubled him, but he saw in his mother's colourlessness and excitement that something unusual had occurred, and the child's large blue eyes fixed themselves defiantly, almost antagonistically upon the stranger, who, he guessed instinctively, was the cause of his mother's alarm.

Ella bad already recovered herself. She turned to go, her arm still held firmly round her boy's shoulder, but Reinhold now stepped hastily in her way--she was obliged to stop.

"Will you be so good as to allow us to pa.s.s?" said she, coldly and distantly. "I beg you to do so."