The Alpine Fay Part 43

Suddenly a large, lion-like dog came careering over the sodden ground, testifying by huge leaps to his delight at being released from his long confinement in-doors. He paused close beside Elmhorst, and began, after his custom with the engineer-in-chief, to show his teeth, when for the first time his show of dislike was arrested,--something else attracted his attention. Wise dog that he was, he perceived what had occurred. He grew restless, stretched his head far over the edge of the abyss, then looked towards the other side, finally turning his intelligent dark eyes upon the engineer-in-chief as if to ask what it all meant.

Hitherto Wolfgang had preserved his composure, at least externally, but he broke down at the dog's mute inquiry. He covered his eyes with his hand, and a tear, the first he had shed since boyhood, rolled down his cheek.

On a sudden he heard his name uttered in a voice not unfamiliar to him, but in a tone such as had never before fallen upon his ear: "Wolfgang!"

He turned, dashed aside the treacherous witness from his cheek, and, entirely self-possessed once more, approached the slender figure, enveloped in a dark wrap, and standing at a little distance, as though afraid to venture nearer.

"You here, Erna? After the terrible night that you have pa.s.sed?"

"Yes, it was terrible!" the girl said, with a deep-drawn sigh. "You have heard that my uncle is dead?"

"I heard it two hours ago. I no longer had the right to watch beside his death-bed; moreover, the sight of me would only have distressed him, so I kept away. How does Alice bear it?"

"For the moment she seems stunned, but Dr. Reinsfeld is with her."

"Then she will recover from the blow. They love each other, and with the one who is loved best in the world beside you even the worst trials can be borne."

Erna made no reply, but she slowly approached and stood beside him. He looked at her, and his sad face grew still darker: "I know why you are here. You would fain speak some word of sympathy, of consolation to me.

But why? Your dying father's curse has borne fruit: the destruction of the ancestral home of the Thurgaus is avenged, and I think even the Freiherr would be content."

"Can you really attach such importance to words which were the result of anger,--of the agitation preceding a sudden death?" Erna asked, reproachfully. "Since when have you been superst.i.tious?"

"Since faith in my own power has lain buried there. Leave me to myself, Erna. What comfort can I take in the sympathy which you offer as an alms, to express which you must have stolen secretly away, and for which you may have to suffer from Herr Waltenberg's reproaches? I need no sympathy, not even from you." In the irritability of misery he turned away and looked up at the Wolkenstein, the crest of which loomed white and shadowy through the clouds. It alone seemed striving to unveil, while a thick mist obscured all the surrounding mountain-tops.

"I do not come secretly, nor to offer you an alms," Erna said, in a voice which she tried vainly to steady. "Ernst knows that I have come to you, and he sends a message by me."

"Ernst Waltenberg--to me?"

"To you, Wolfgang! He bids me tell you that he releases you from your promise, and recalls his challenge."

Elmhorst frowned darkly, as he rejoined, "Has he told _you_ of all that? Very considerate on his part! Such matters are generally discussed among men exclusively. But, although I accepted his conditions, I do not accept his magnanimity,--least of all at present."

"And yet you first set him the example of magnanimity. No need to deny it. He knows as well as I do whose hand s.n.a.t.c.hed him from destruction on this very spot."

"I leave no one to die if it is in my power to save his life, even if he be my worst enemy," Wolfgang said, coldly. "At such moments one obeys the instincts of humanity, never stopping to consider, and I refuse to accept his grat.i.tude. I pray you say this to Herr Waltenberg, since he has chosen you, Fraulein von Thurgau, for his messenger."

"Can you really treat his messenger thus harshly?" The girl's voice was low and gentle and her large dark-blue eyes were strangely bright as she looked at the man who could no longer control the anguish of his soul.

"Why torture me with such looks and tones?" he cried, pa.s.sionately.

"You belong to another----"

"Whom you misunderstand as I did. I know now how immense is the sacrifice he makes for me, for I know how great was his love for me, when, with this love in his heart, he could give me back my freedom and bid me farewell forever."

Wolfgang, half stunned at the unexpected announcement, could only be conscious that through the black night of his hopeless despair a dazzling ray of light was darting, heralding the dawn of new life and energy. "You are free, Erna?" he broke forth. "And now--now you come----"

"To you. It is so heavy a burden,--this misery that you are bearing alone. I claim my share."

The words were spoken with earnest simplicity, as if they were mere words of course; but Elmhorst changed colour and his look was downcast.

He was undergoing a hard struggle with his pride, which felt such devotion at such a moment to be a humiliation.

"No, no, not yet!" he murmured, with an attempt to turn away. "Let me recover my courage,--my self-possession. I cannot accept your sacrifice. It weighs me down to the earth."

"Wolf!"--the old pet name of his boyhood, which he had heard from none save Benno since that time, came soft and low from the girl's lips,--"Wolf, you need me most now! You need a love to encourage and nerve you; never heed the promptings of false pride. You once asked me if I could have stayed beside you on the lonely, rough path leading to success. I come to bring you your answer. You shall not pursue it alone; I will stay beside you through struggle and labour, through hardship and peril. If you have lost faith in your power and your future, I believe in them most firmly. I believe wholly in you!"

She looked up at him with a beaming, triumphant smile. All his hesitation vanished: he opened his arms and clasped his love to his heart.

Griff meanwhile looked on at this development of affairs in extreme amazement and evident dissatisfaction. He did not quite comprehend it all, but thus much was clear,--he must give up all thoughts in future of growling and showing his teeth at the engineer-in-chief, who was holding his young mistress in his arms and kissing her, and Griff was much annoyed. He preferred meanwhile to maintain an expectant att.i.tude, and so he lay down and kept a constant watch upon the pair.

The mists were still floating about the Wolkenstein, but its peak was every minute emerging more clearly. It did not now unveil as in the dreamy moonlight of the mysteriously lovely midsummer-eve; it stood forth white, icy, and phantom-like; above it the heavens heavy with rain, about it storm and clouds, and at its feet the desolation which itself had wrought. And yet from that very desolation there had sprung forth the purest, truest happiness,--happiness grown to life amid tempests and storms.

Wolfgang released his love from his embrace and stood erect, all trace of despair vanished from his face and figure. It had come back to him,--the joy which he had thought flown forever, and with it had returned the old courage, the old inexhaustible energy.

"You are right, my darling!" he exclaimed. "I will not doubt, nor hesitate. I will conquer her yet, that evil Force up there. She has destroyed my work. I will create it afresh!"

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE KISS OF THE ALPINE FAY.

The Nordheim villa was silent and deserted. The president's remains had been transported to the capital and buried thence, and the entire household had removed thither.

The engineer-in-chief also was in the capital, to consult with the company which was part owner of the railway, and to arrange the affairs of the deceased president,--a difficult task, which he had voluntarily undertaken, being justified in the eyes of the world in so doing, since the dissolution of his betrothal to Alice had not yet been made public.

The time given to mourning must pa.s.s before any such announcement could be made, and then Alice would no longer need his aid. At present it was above all desirable to avert the gossip and curiosity sure to ensue upon the catastrophe which had caused the president's sudden death, and which had greatly diminished his wealth. A strong arm was needed to save what remained.

Ernst Waltenberg was still in Heilborn. Since the day when he had bidden farewell to his betrothed he had held aloof from the Wolkenstein district, but something appeared to retain him in its vicinity. The late autumn had set in with unusual severity, and the popular watering-place was, of course, quite empty but for the foreign gentleman, with his secretary and servants, who did not as yet talk of departure.

Veit Gronau was pacing to and fro the drawing-room of the comfortable cottage which Waltenberg occupied, his face filled with anxiety, and glancing from time to time towards the closed door of the next room,--Ernst's study.

"If I could only tell what to make of it all!" he muttered. "He locks himself in there day after day, and it is a week now since he set foot in the open air; he who for years has pa.s.sed two or three hours in the saddle daily. If I could but get at Reinsfeld; but with his usual conscientiousness he has gone to Neuenfeld, and will not leave it until his first term of office has expired, when it is to be hoped a successor will have been provided for the post. There will surely be enough of the Nordheim millions left to insure him an easy existence when he marries his betrothed, and he would have been far wiser to remain near her now. Here you are at last, Said. What does Herr Waltenberg say?"

"The master begs Herr Gronau to dine without him," the negro replied.

"This will never do!" exclaimed Veit; but as he walked towards the door of the next room with some vague intention of forcing it, it opened, and Waltenberg himself appeared.

"You here yet, Gronau?" he said, with a slight frown. "I begged you to dine without me."

"I am like yourself, Herr Waltenberg. I have no appet.i.te."

"Then, Said, have the table cleared. Go!"

Said obeyed, but Gronau, although he saw plainly that he too was dismissed, obstinately maintained his post.

Ernst had gone to the window, whence there was an extended view of the distant range of mountains. During the entire week that had elapsed since the avalanche had occurred the weather had not cleared; it had been dull and stormy, and the mountains, day after day, were veiled.

To-day, for the first time, they showed themselves clearly.

"It is clearing up--at last!" Ernst said, more to himself than to his companion, who shook his head dubiously.