Tales from the German Volume I Part 29

'Nevertheless, colonel, I do not understand,' answered Arwed with displeasure, 'why you confide all this _to me_, nor why you confide it _now_.'

'The new emergencies of the war call me back to the army,' said Megret.

'I set out even this very night. Meanwhile I wish to secure to myself here at least the _statum quo_. You love me not, major; that I very well know, but at any rate you are not my rival; you are Christine's near relative and a man of honor. Whatever you may think of me, we must agree in this, that Mac Donalbain is not deserving of your cousin.'

'That I am very willing to allow,' answered Arwed. 'But, I hope, there can never be a question of such a connection. Had Christine really a weakness for that man, so n.o.ble and strong a mind as hers would be easily reclaimed from such an aberration.'

'You consider the matter too lightly,' said Megret with great earnestness. 'I myself hoped and doubted long, and left unemployed the means at my command for banishing that bad man. I was indeed thereto prompted by that miserable vanity which induces a man to wish to conquer by his own merits and to scorn the use of other weapons. But the real state of affairs is now placed in so clear a light that my eyes are pained by it. This Mac Donalbain is a monster, and Christine loves him. Forbearance would now be madness, as the honor and happiness of this house hang upon a hair.'

'And what would you do?' anxiously asked Arwed.

'That shall you directly hear,' answered Megret; 'for there, most opportunely, comes the Scot. His destiny leads him towards me. May I only gain sufficient composure to roast the villain _a pet.i.t feu_, as we call it. It would yet be some little satisfaction for the constant torments of jealousy for which I may thank him since I first sighed for the countess.'

'Megret turned away and proceeded some steps down the avenue, and on his return all traits of anger had disappeared from his face, and a cold, smooth smile was subst.i.tuted. Meanwhile the Scot approached and courteously greeted them.

'You come just in time, sir Mac Donalbain,' said Megret in an apparently friendly manner, 'to enlighten me upon a matter of some interest. According to your name and your own a.s.surance you are indeed a Scot, and can give us information from the best sources relative to the manners and customs of your dear fatherland.'

'Why not!' asked the Scot with a forced smile.

'Now will you please to inform me, worthy sir,' said Megret, familiarly approaching him, 'what, in your highlands, is the exact meaning of the term, 'children of the mist?'

Starting and shrinking at this question, Mac Donalbain answered only with a deadly glance.

'They also call them 'children of night,' added Megret in a quiet and seemingly friendly manner. 'The terms are said to apply to those poor people who, at variance with the civil authorities, shelter themselves in rocks and caves, occasionally making excursions into the lowlands, plundering and burning dwellings, driving off cattle, now and then perpetrating a murder, and getting hanged at last.'

'You speak of the robber clans of the highlands,' said Mac Donalbain, struggling to preserve his equanimity.

'_C'est cela!_' cried Megret, nodding waggishly; 'and I reckon upon your goodness for some details about them. It would be very interesting to me to compare your children of the mist with a somewhat similar cla.s.s in this country. In Scotland, I am told, even the n.o.bility do not consider it disreputable to march at the head of such expeditions against the flocks and herds of the lowlands. They make no secret of them, and hold the gallows to be as good a bed of honor as the battle field. Every country has its peculiar customs and code of morals. The leaders of our robber bands are far more delicate. They, at least blacken their faces, renouncing the glory due to their heroic deeds, and wash them clean again when they go into honest company.'

With these words Mac Donalbain's face became pale as death. His eyes rolled as if they would start from their sockets, and his teeth audibly chattered. At length he indistinctly stammered, 'I do not, indeed, understand your words; but your envenomed glances are the true interpreters of your meaning. They at least make it clear that you intend to insult me; and more is unnecessary to induce a n.o.ble Scot to demand instant satisfaction.'

'It is very flattering to me, n.o.ble sir,' answered Megret, 'to receive an invitation to the field of honor from you; but before I can accept it, you must satisfy me that I shall really preserve, and not lose my honor, by going out with you. My comrades in the army are somewhat nice in such matters, and certain occupations render a man forever unworthy a gentleman's sword.'

'Do you refuse to give me satisfaction?' fiercely asked Mac Donalbain, stepping toward Megret, with his hand, apparently grasping a weapon, in his bosom.

Meanwhile Megret had drawn a pistol from his pocket, c.o.c.ked it, and presented its muzzle to Mac Donalbain. 'One step nearer, a suspicious movement even,' cried he, 'and this bullet pierces your heart. You know the accuracy of my aim.'

Mac Donalbain drew back, fixing his eyes upon his relentless enemy with a wild and vacant stare.

'We will quickly put an end to this unpleasant interview,' continued Megret, with frightful coolness. 'By all this you must perceive that I know you. Long since might I have denounced you to the civil authorities, and I have had more than one personal inducement to do so.

Because I became troublesome to you, your myrmidons attempted my murder during the ride to Tornea, and, had it not been for the major's interference, would have succeeded. But magnanimity is the weakness of Frenchmen. You are pardoned, and I merely command you instantly to leave this castle, never to return. If I ever again behold you here, or within a circuit of fifty miles from this, the robber-captain shall be brought to justice and suffer the penalties of the laws.'

Unable to speak, and with a countenance such as satan might be supposed to have a.s.sumed directly after his fall into the abyss, Mac Donalbain rushed forth, and Megret proceeded in triumph to the castle.

'It is still problematical,' soliloquized Arwed, 'with which of the two Christine would be most miserable. I become more and more doubtful with regard to Megret. The Scot received but his deserts, although it is no honest man who a.s.sumes the duty of executioner,--for no one but a finished villain could have taken such pleasure in stretching his victim upon the rack.'

His uncle now hastily approached him from the castle, with an open letter in his hand, and a face expressive of delighted antic.i.p.ation.

'Have you spoken with old Brodin?' he anxiously asked.

'I have,' answered Arwed; and the recollection of the loss of Georgina drew a deep sigh from his bosom.

'You are now wholly free, Arwed,' cried the uncle, with heartfelt love.

'May I hope that in a beloved nephew I may soon embrace a son-in-law?'

Arwed, perceiving whither this question must lead, foresaw the unpleasant scene which the contest between his uncle's will and Christine's pa.s.sion would produce, and remained silent.

'Do not fear,' his uncle anxiously added, 'that your consent will be extorted. Read this letter. Your father desires this union, but he leaves your will free. Yet should I think, that as your beloved has loosed the chains which bound you, you certainly would make some effort to gratify an old man who loves you with his whole heart, and knows not better how to secure the happiness of his only child than by placing her hand in yours.'

'I gratefully acknowledge your paternal goodness,' answered Arwed, evasively. 'But I beg of you to leave me time for self-examination. My sorrow is yet new, and for Christine I may safely affirm that a union with me is very far from her thoughts. Besides, I need time to familiarize myself with my new position, and enable me to come to a decision.'

'I know my daughter,' cried the uncle. 'There was for a time something strange and adverse in her conduct which often perplexed me; but in the main her heart is good; and a thousand trifling things have convinced me that she likes you. Upon the word of a knight, she will not say nay!'

'Consider at least the circ.u.mstances of the times,' said Arwed. 'The moment when Sweden is bleeding under the swords of her enemies, when she is struggling for her very existence, is surely no time for tying love-knots. Besides, I am resolved to depart to-morrow morning for the army. Should I come back after the close of the war, it will then be time to speak of this affair.'

'_You_ going to the army!' exclaimed the uncle, with astonishment.

'Have you forgotten that you have been dismissed the service and banished from the capital?'

'I will serve as a volunteer,' cried Arwed with patriotic zeal, 'in one of the lowest grades--as a common soldier--if it must be so. If I may not live for Sweden, they cannot but permit me to die for her!'

'Die! and for this queen?' asked the uncle.

'What care I for the queen?' answered Arwed. 'I fight for my father-land, and to protect the tomb of that heroic king whose life I was not allowed by fate to defend.'

'n.o.ble man!' cried the uncle. 'You shame me. The prospect of good fortune for my house caused me to forget the miseries of my country, while you are ready to shed your blood in the service of a government which has thwarted your dearest hopes. Well, act according to the dictates of your heart. Something must also be done to satisfy mine, before you leave us, and that even now, for here comes my daughter.'

'Alas!' sighed Arwed, as the pale and trembling maiden slowly approached them.

'My father, you have commanded my presence,' said she, with a failing voice.

'Arwed's beloved,' answered the governor, 'has married another. He leaves us in the morning, once more to meet the enemies of Sweden. You know my wishes, Christine. He must leave Gyllensten only as your affianced lover; the marriage can follow in more peaceable and happier times. So extend to him your hand and give him the troth-kiss.'

'Oh, my G.o.d!' stammered Christine, wringing her hands.

'Why this affectation?' asked her father with displeasure.

'You afflict your daughter,' said Arwed, and then turning to Christine, 'calm yourself, cousin! this storm has not been raised by me. Bound or free, I will never permit your heart to be constrained.'

'Nothing is more intolerable,' angrily interposed the governor, 'than a young knight's feigning a coldness towards the other s.e.x which is foreign to his heart. However strong have been, or may now be, your feelings for Georgina, yet it has not escaped a father's eye that my daughter is not an object of indifference to you. The glances which you now and then cast upon her when you think yourself un.o.bserved, the warm interest which you take in her conversation, even the reproofs you often give her, have but the more clearly proved the state of your feelings.'

Arwed cast his eyes bashfully down.

'And, not to mention many other indications,' continued the old man, addressing himself to Christine, 'what impelled you to mount your horse so quickly when Megret brought us the news of Arwed's danger? When a maiden breaks through all obstacles to fight for a young man, one may confidently swear she has an attachment for him.'

'Oh, my father!' cried Christine in the deepest affliction, hiding her face in his bosom.

'Then give him the hand which would have fought for him,' commanded the father, moving to lead his daughter to Arwed's arms. She tore herself from him. 'I cannot! by heaven, I cannot!' shrieked the despairing girl.

'You cannot?' asked the governor, angrily. 'And that you are in earnest, is confirmed by your looks. Now, then, my daughter, give your father a reason why you cannot obey his will, which was never swayed by warmer affection than at this moment. I may bear the contradiction if it be supported upon reasonable grounds, but I am not disposed to become the plaything of your caprice and obstinacy. Therefore answer, what have you against this union?'