Waldfried Part 71

"Ernst! my beloved child! my long-lost child! Ernst! your father calls you! Your mother calls you from eternity! Ernst, you shall live! you have repented; you have atoned! Ernst, Ernst! my son, my son!"

He opened his eyes and moved his hand towards me. I seized it; it was stiff.

"Father, forgive!" he moaned. "Martella, pardon! Oh! mother--father!"

He breathed his last breath. I just saw Martella throw herself upon him, with an agonizing cry; then I saw and heard nothing more.

BOOK SIXTH.

CHAPTER I.

"Stand firm! Face the bullets!" With these words, Ernst had encouraged his men to the last. My own experience ill.u.s.trated them.

For a considerable time, I did not know what had happened, either to me or to those about me. I only knew that I lay behind a white curtain with blue flowers, and could not keep my eyes open for any length of time. The flowers a.s.sumed all sorts of odd shapes, and the fantastic figures seemed to be ever changing and rushing towards me.

I think I was not really sick, only inexpressibly weak; and the fatigue and exhaustion prevented me from directing my thoughts at will. I was childishly grateful for everything. I looked at the wood in the door and rejoiced that it was firm; I heard the fire in the stove and was delighted that it warmed me; I was grateful to the bed that supported me, so that I did not need to do it myself.

I remember that Bertha and Annette would occasionally visit me; but my grandson Wolfgang stayed with me nearly all the time. Through the hardships of war and constant exposure, Wolfgang had almost ripened into manhood. He had become stronger and stouter than of old, and his voice was now more manly.

"I am so glad, grandfather, to hear you call me by my own name again; you always used to call me Ernst," said Wolfgang one day, and from that hour I felt that the heavy clouds were slowly clearing away; and when they had disappeared, I saw everything around me distinctly, and by degrees I remembered what had happened.

"Is Ernst--buried?"

"Yes, grandfather."

I now asked Wolfgang to inform me what had occurred while I was unconscious, and what had become of Martella.

"Grandfather," said Wolfgang, "I must tell you the truth. Martella is no longer separated from Ernst. She has reached the goal."

I felt as if the clouds were again gathering before my eyes, but, through the mists, I met Gustava's l.u.s.trous eyes, saying, "She was true till death."

Wolfgang took my hand in his, and the youth's firm grasp gave me renewed strength. I begged him to tell me all, and he began:

"We brought you down to Aunt Annette, who, foreboding evil, had met us half-way. It then suddenly occurred to us that in our dreadful excitement and anxiety about you, no one had taken care of Martella, and that she had not followed us. Rothfuss said he was completely worn out, and must stay with his master. Ikwarte has nerves and muscles of steel. I felt as if my eyes burnt in their sockets; never before had I been so tired; but I returned with him, nevertheless, to the battle-field, half dead with sleep and fatigue." Wolfgang shivered, stopped awhile, and then continued: "We knew the place where Ernst lay, and soon found him. The moon lit up his face wonderfully. Beside him lay Martella, motionless; she clung to him in a close embrace, cheek to cheek, hand in hand. Is she dead, too? It were best! I bent down to her; she breathed heavily. I called her name. How she stared at me wildly and vacantly! Then she motioned us to be quiet, and whispered, 'He will soon be warm again; soon, very soon.' I tried to persuade her to follow us; she answered, 'O Wolfgang! you are so good; bring some wild honey. Oh, wait, Ernst! your nephew is coming with wild honey, and here I have your cup, your hunting cup.' I tried to persuade her, and she answered, 'Oh, you have mother's voice. Mother, tell him, oh, tell him to rise again.' She threw herself beside the corpse, and when I cried, 'Martella, get up; come with us,' she answered, 'You see he cannot move now, but I will follow you; you have my mother's voice.'

She did not then seem to remember the dead. She went with me and let me lead her by the hand; but suddenly she tore away and returned, crying, 'They leave him lying alone on the cold ground, in the dark night.'

"She broke down. We tried to administer some restorative, but her mouth was firmly closed, and her breast was heaving violently. At last Ikwarte succeeded in administering the draught. We brought her to a ruined house in the vicinity. The doors had all been taken off--I had helped at the work myself; they had done service as litters.

"We placed Martella on a seat by the hearth, and I succeeded in gathering some wood and starting a fire. 'Oh, how good! Oh, how warm!'

said she to the flickering flames. Her teeth chattered. We hoped that, after she was well warmed, she would be able to go farther with us. She sat there quietly, her elbows resting on her knees, her face covered with both her hands.

"'Wolfgang, keep me with you,' she said suddenly. 'Be good to me; you are his brother's child; keep me with you--do not leave me. Tell me how many years it is since he died? O Ernst, you are so happy that I cannot weep. Why are you glad? Oh, if I could but weep! You have been away so long, and why do you not return? What shall I do in this world without you! Mother, Ernst is with you; you do not need him; send him to me--he is mine. I have nothing more in this world. My dog is dead, too. My little red stockings--oh, I was so happy. Martella is lost. Hunt for her in the woods where the wild honey grows. Do you hear the cuckoo?

Cuckoo!'

"She stared vacantly into the flames; then she cried: 'My eyes burn like fire! I cannot weep. O Ernst! Ernst!'

"She tore the satchel from her girdle, tore the letter of pardon into fragments, and cried: 'Everything shall burn just as my eyes do. Come here, your Highness, and see how your handwriting burns.'

"Dawn was breaking. Through the open door, we saw some men approaching with a litter.

"'Here is Herr Rautenkron,' said Ikwarte. Martella rushed out and saw the men carrying Ernst's body. She rushed towards them, sank beside the litter and cried: 'My Ernst! You are not dead!'

"A fearful shriek, which rang out far over the barren fields, was forced from her tortured breast. She clasped her hand to her heart while a flood of tears streamed over her cheeks. Suddenly she broke down and sank on the body of Ernst. A physician, who had come with the men, laid his hand on her heart. It was still: he listened for her breathing; it had ceased.

"'My child! my child!' cried Rautenkron; she heard nothing more."

So ended Wolfgang's story. His firm hand clasped mine, and I felt as if that alone held me there among the living.

"And what became of Rautenkron?" I was able to ask after a long interval.

"He had suddenly become an old man, with hollow cheeks and l.u.s.treless eyes. He sat on the ground, stared at the corpse, and did not speak a word. It rained in torrents. Every one endeavored to induce Rautenkron to seek the shelter of the hut, but he did not answer. At last he arose, pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, lit a cigar, and said to me, 'Stay here; I shall come back presently.' After a while, he returned with axe and spade. Alone, he dug the grave in which Ernst and Martella were laid."

Wolfgang paused, and I remembered the sacred verses from the lament of David for Jonathan:

"In death they were not divided."

"Where is Rautenkron?" I asked at last.

"When the grave was filled up, he disappeared. Later, we learned his fate. You remember that our men had taken the city near by and occupied it; but the French had so strengthened the castle which commanded it, that it seemed impossible to drive them out. Rautenkron volunteered to discover the mines which doubtless were under it. No one knows how he gained an entrance, but on the following day the powder-magazines in the cellars of the castle exploded and destroyed part of the castle, which was then stormed. Great numbers of the enemy were killed. Careful search was made for Rautenkron, but no trace of him was discovered, and as, up to this time, nothing has been heard of him, it seems sure that he was buried beneath the ruins."

CHAPTER II.

Bertha informed me that the Colonel was out of danger, and was staying in the city during his convalescence. The physician thought he would be able to lead his regiment within a few weeks. The old spinner had returned homewards with Carl. He had been taken to the hospital of our capital.

"And Anton, of the saw-mill--is he dead?"

"Father, I am telling you the whole truth; but I beg of you, do not seek to learn all these things to-day. Take care of yourself, for our sakes."

I was soon again able to be up, and Bertha could not say enough in praise of the kindness and sympathy of the French people, in whose house I lay.

The housewife now wanted to speak to me, too.

She came, and was quite delighted to receive my heartfelt thanks.

A few days later, I was permitted to visit the Colonel, and the first words he uttered were, "Bertha, now I firmly believe in my recovery.

You wear your hair in curls again."