The Alpine Fay Part 35

The young lady had already perceived the obstacle; the road leading down the descent and past the bridge was temporarily barricaded, while beyond a number of workmen were busied in blasting a large fragment of rock.

"I am in no hurry," she said, indifferently, "and, besides, I must wait for Herr Waltenberg, who begged me to ride on while he spoke with Herr Gronau, whom he met just now quite unexpectedly. I do not wish to be too far in advance of him."

She let her bridle hang loose, and seemed to bestow all her attention upon the workmen. The previous night had brought an entire change in the weather,--a cold rain had obscured all the sunny, fragrant beauty of the landscape. The skies hung dark and gray above the earth, the mountains were veiled in mist, and the wind whistled in the forests,--autumn had come in a single night.

"We shall see you this evening, Herr Elmhorst?" Erna asked, after a silence of several minutes.

"I regret extremely that I cannot possibly come. I shall be very much occupied this evening."

It was the old pretext to which he had so often had recourse; but it no longer found credence. Erna said, with evident significance, "You are probably not aware that my uncle arrived this forenoon?"

"Oh, yes, I know it, and have excused my absence to him; I shall see him to-morrow."

"But Alice does not seem well. She will not, it is true, admit any indisposition, nor will she allow Dr. Reinsfeld to be summoned, but she looked so pale and ill awhile ago when she came out of her father's room, that I was quite alarmed."

She seemed to expect an answer, but Elmhorst continued to gaze towards the bridge in silence.

"Surely you ought to forsake your work for to-day and see after your betrothed."

"I have no longer the right to call Fraulein Nordheim my betrothed,"

Wolfgang said, coldly.

"Herr Elmhorst!"

"Yes, Fraulein von Thurgau. Differences of opinion have arisen between the president and myself of so decided a character that any adjustment is impossible. We have both withdrawn from the intended connection."

"And Alice?"

"She knows nothing of it as yet, at least through me. Possibly her father may have acquainted her with the matter; in any case, she will submit to his decision."

The words testified clearly to the nature of the strange alliance, which had in fact existed only between Nordheim and his intended son-in-law. Alice had been betrothed since the interests of both men required that so it should be, and now when these interests no longer existed the betrothal was dissolved without even referring the matter to her; it was taken for granted that she would submit. Erna too seemed to have no doubt upon the subject, but she changed colour at the unexpected intelligence. "It has come, then, to this," she said, softly.

"Yes, it has come to this. I was asked to pay a price far too high for me or----, and I made my choice."

"I knew how you would choose!" the girl exclaimed, eagerly. "I never doubted it!"

"Ah, you did me that justice, then!" Wolfgang said, with undisguised bitterness. "I hardly expected it of you."

She made no reply, but there was reproach in her eyes; at last she said, with hesitation, "And---what now?"

"Now I stand just where I did a year ago. The path which you once pointed out to me with such enthusiasm lies open before me, and I shall pursue it, but alone,--entirely alone."

Erna shivered slightly at his last words, but apparently she did not choose to understand them; she interposed, hastily, "A man like yourself is not alone. He has his talents and his future, and the future before you is so grand and----"

"And as dreary and sunless as that mountain-world," he completed her sentence, pointing to the autumnal, cloudy landscape. "But I have no right to complain. It came to meet me once, happiness, brilliant and sunlit, and I turned my back upon it to attain another goal. Then it spread its wings and departed, soaring to unattainable heights; and although I would give my very life for it, it never will come back to me. Those who trifle with it lose it forever."

There was dull, aching misery in his voice as he made this confession, but Erna had no word of reply for him, and no glance for the eyes seeking her own. Pale and rigid, she gazed abroad into the misty distance. Yes, he knew now where for him lay rest and happiness,--now, when it was too late!

Wolfgang laid his hand upon the horse's mane: "Erna, one question before we part. After my final interview with your uncle to-morrow I shall, of course, not enter his house again, and you are going far away with your husband. Do you look for happiness at his side?"

"At least I hope to confer happiness."

"And you?"

"Herr Elmhorst----"

"Ah, you need not repulse me so sternly! No self-interest lurks behind my question. My sentence I listened to from your lips on that moonlit night upon the Wolkenstein. Even were you free I should be hopeless, for you never could forgive my wooing of another."

"No,--never!" The words were harsh in their decision.

"I know it, and hence these last words of warning. Ernst Waltenberg is not the man to make such a woman as yourself happy. His love is rooted in the egotism that is the basis of his entire nature. He never will ask himself whether he may not be torturing by his jealous pa.s.sion the woman whom he loves, and how will you endure constant companionship with a man to whom all the lofty ideals which are to you inspiration are but dead ideas? At last I have learned to know--dearly as the knowledge has been purchased--that there is something loftier and better than the self which once bounded my horizon. He never will learn this!"

Erna's lips quivered; she had long known it far better than any one could tell her. But what availed such knowledge? For her also it was too late.

"You are speaking of my betrothed, Herr Elmhorst," she said, in a tone of reproof,--"and to me. Not another word of the kind, I entreat!"

Wolfgang bowed and retired: "You are right, Fraulein von Thurgau; but they were farewell words, and as such may be forgiven."

She inclined her head in a.s.sent, and was about to turn away, when Waltenberg appeared on the edge of the forest, urging his horse towards the pair. He and the engineer-in-chief exchanged the coldly courteous greetings habitual to them in what had become their almost daily intercourse. They spoke of the weather, and of the president's arrival,--Ernst being now first aware of the barricade in the road.

"The men are unconscionably dilatory about their blasting," said Wolfgang, glad to find an opportunity to cut short the interview. "I will go and hasten them; you shall not have to wait long."

He hurried down the slope, but something seemed to be amiss with the blasting, and the engineer who was directing the proceedings came forward to explain matters to his chief. Wolfgang shrugged his shoulders impatiently and pa.s.sed on into the midst of the workmen, apparently to examine the work himself.

Meanwhile, Waltenberg stayed with his betrothed, who asked him, "You spoke with Gronau, then?"

"Yes, and I took no pains to conceal my surprise at finding him here, since he had not been to see me in Heilborn, or informed me of his return. In reply he begged me to see him this evening: he has something to tell me, which he says concerns me in a certain sense. I am really curious to know what it is. He is not wont to be oracularly mysterious.

Look, Erna, how dark and threatening the sky is above the Wolkenstein.

Will that storm not overtake us?"

"Hardly to-day," said Erna, with a glance towards the veiled mountain-top. "To-morrow perhaps, or the day after. In spite of our fine autumn, the tempests which our poor mountaineers so dread seem to be setting in earlier than usual. We had a forerunner of them last night."

"There must be something more than fable in the magic power of your Alpine Fay," Ernst said, half in jest. "That cloudy peak, which is well named, for it scarcely ever unveils, has actually cast a spell around me. It allures and attracts me with a mysterious, wellnigh irresistible charm, tempting me to lift the veil of the haughty Ice-Queen, and to s.n.a.t.c.h from her the kiss. .h.i.therto denied to mortals. If one should try that precipice on this side----"

"Ernst, you promised me to give up all such ideas forever," Erna interposed.

"And I will keep my word. I promised you on St. John's eve."

"On St. John's eve," the girl repeated, softly, dreamily.

"Do you remember that evening when I yielded to your request? I had resolved firmly upon an ascent of the Wolkenstein, but my resolution vanished before the entreaty in your eyes,--your words. Would you really have been distressed had I then disobeyed you?"

"But, Ernst, what a question!"

"It would not have been inc.u.mbent upon you then to be so; I was not then your declared lover." There was again the old tormenting jealousy in his voice. "You would probably have been distressed about Sepp or Gronau if either of them had undertaken the ascent. I mean that trembling anxiety which only a.s.sails one where one dearly loved is concerned,--a dread before which all else pales and vanishes,--the distress which would drive me blindly to encounter any danger if I knew you exposed to it. I suppose you know nothing of that?"

"Why conjure up such fancies?" Erna said, half impatiently. "I have your promise, and therefore no ground for distress. Why dwell upon an 'if'----?"

A crash as of thunder interrupted her. Below them earth and stones were hurled into the air, and the huge ma.s.s of rock, split into three fragments, fell apart with a dull thud, while on the instant a terrific commotion arose. The a.s.sembled labourers rushed away from the bridge towards the spot where the engineer-in-chief with his subordinate officer had been standing an instant before. It was impossible to see what had occurred; all that was to be perceived was a close group of men, whence cries of alarm and dismay were heard.