Kitabı oku: «The Alpine Fay», sayfa 9

CHAPTER X.
A PROFESSIONAL VISIT

The president's carriage was rolling along the mountain-road, the only one available until the railway should be opened, when Elmhorst and Reinsfeld left the former's rooms and took their way to the villa. Elmhorst of course did not wait to be announced,–the servants bowed low before the future son-in-law of the house, and he conducted his friend to the drawing-room. If the doctor had dreaded the visit beforehand, he was now completely crushed by his unaccustomed surroundings.

The room, with its luxurious carpets, its curtains admitting only a half light, its pale-blue hangings and furniture, seemed to him like some fairy realm. There were a few pictures on the walls, and a statuette of white marble peeped forth from a group of flowering plants that perfumed the air. All here was as fresh and delicate as though it had been Elf-land.

Unfortunately, Benno was not accustomed to the society of elves. He stumbled over the carpet, dropped his hat, and in stooping to pick it up wellnigh overturned a little table, which nothing but Wolfgang's dexterity preserved from a fall. He mutely endured the unavoidable introduction, made an awkward bow, and when Frau von Lasberg's cold, stern face arose upon his vision scanning 'this strange person' with evident surprise, he lost all self-possession.

Elmhorst frowned: he had not fancied it would be quite so bad as this; still, there was no retreat: the interview had to be gone through with, although, to poor Benno's great relief, he made it as short as possible. The embarrassed visitor held the recovered hat tightly in the hands adorned with the yellow gloves which were far too large, while his friend presented him to his betrothed.

"You have promised me, dear Alice, to consult Dr. Reinsfeld, and this is he. You know how anxious I am about your health."

The tone in which the words were spoken was anxious and considerate, but there was no tenderness in it. Reinsfeld, who had been quite crushed by the magnificence of the Baroness, scarcely dared to lift his eyes to the young heiress, who, he was sure, must be infinitely haughtier and more magnificent. He stood like a victim at the altar, when suddenly the gentlest voice in the world addressed him: "I am so very glad to see you, Herr Doctor; Wolfgang has told me so much about you."

He looked up amazed into a pair of large brown eyes in which there was certainly no disdain. His head had been filled with the satin-clad and lace-shrouded lady of the photograph, but in her stead he saw a delicate little figure in a thin, white morning-gown, her light-brown hair twisted in a loose knot, her lovely face pale and weary, but the reverse of haughty. He was positively startled, and stammered something about 'exceeding pleasure,' and 'great honour,' soon, however, coming to a stand-still.

Wolfgang came to his aid with some remark as to the purpose of the visit, wishing to afford his friend an opportunity to show himself at his best as the skilful physician. But to-day Benno belied his entire nature. He asked several questions, but his manner was that of one suing for mercy; he stammered, he blushed like a girl, and, worse than all, he was conscious of how unbecoming was his behaviour. This robbed him of the last remnant of self-possession; he sat gazing at the young lady imploringly, as if entreating her forgiveness for annoying her by his presence.

Whether it were this same imploring expression or the childlike sincerity and gentleness, which, in spite of the young man's embarrassment, were evident in the dark-blue eyes lifted to her own, that touched Alice, she suddenly felt moved to say, with extreme kindness, "You will hardly be able to judge of my health in this first visit, Herr Doctor, but be sure that I shall place implicit confidence in Wolfgang's friend."

And she held out to him a transparent little hand, which lay like a rose-leaf in his own as he said, with far more earnestness than the occasion warranted, "Oh, thank you, thank you, Fräulein Nordheim!"

Frau von Lasberg's face plainly showed her doubt of the capacity of a physician whose first visit to a patient so overwhelmed him with stammering confusion, and who was so profusely grateful for nothing. And this man was Elmhorst's friend, and Alice seemed quite content. The old lady shook her head, and said, with much reserve, "You are wont to be very chary of your confidence, my dear Alice."

"I am all the more pleased that she should make an exception in my friend's favour," Wolfgang interposed. "You will not regret it, Alice. I assure you, Benno's acquirements and skill will bear comparison with those of his most distinguished fellows. I am always remonstrating with him for not exercising them in a wider field. He is sacrificing his life here in a subordinate position, and only last year he refused a most advantageous offer."

"But you know, Wolf–" Reinsfeld attempted to interrupt this praise.

"Yes, I know that a couple of little peasants who were ill so absorbed you that you let the opportunity slip."

"Ah, was that the reason?" Alice asked, in an undertone, glancing again at the young man, who looked as if he were being accused of some crime.

"The Herr Doctor practises among the peasantry, if I understand aright?" said Frau von Lasberg. "Do you really drive up the mountains to the secluded cottages scattered here and there?"

"No, madame, I walk," Reinsfeld explained, simply. "I have, it is true, been obliged of late years to buy a mountain-pony for extreme distances, but I usually walk."

The lady cleared her throat and looked significantly at the engineer, who was intrusting his betrothed's health to a doctor of peasants. Benno was now entirely out of her good graces. Wolfgang understood her look, and smiled rather contemptuously as he said, "Yes, madame, he walks; and when he reaches his home after an expedition through snow and ice, he works away at a scientific treatise that will one day make him famous. But no one must know anything about that. I discovered it only by chance."

"Pray, pray, Wolf!" Benno protested, in such embarrassment that Elmhorst could not but release him. He observed that his friend had a medical visit to pay, and thus allowed him to take his leave. How this leave was taken the poor doctor never quite understood; he only knew that the delicate white hand was held out to him in token of farewell, and that the kindly brown eyes were lifted half compassionately to his own. Then Elmhorst took his arm, piloted him past all the flowers and statuettes, and then the door was closed between him and the fairy realm.

In the antechamber he asked, timidly, "Wolf–did it go off so very badly?"

"God knows, it could hardly have been worse," was Elmhorst's irritated reply.

"I told you before, I am unused to society," Benno said, piteously.

"But you are a man nearly thirty, and can be resolute enough by the bedside of a patient; while to-day you behaved like a school-boy who has not learned his task."

Thus he hectored his friend after his usual fashion, and Benno meekly submitted. Only when he was entreated earnestly to collect himself and be more sensible the next time, did he ask, in a half-frightened, half-pleased tone, "May I come again, then?"

Elmhorst fairly lost patience: "Benno, I really do not know what to think of you. Have I not begged you to take charge of my betrothed's health?"

"But the old lady was much displeased,–I could see that," Reinsfeld observed, dejectedly, "and I am afraid that Fräulein Nordheim too thinks–" He paused and looked down.

"I do not ask the Baroness Lasberg's permission in my plans for my betrothed," Wolfgang said, haughtily. "And my influence with Alice is supreme. Since it is my wish, she has accepted you for her physician."

The doctor eyed him askance: "Wolf, you really do not deserve your good fortune."

"Why not? Because I take the helm into my own hands thus early? You do not understand, Benno. When a man without means, like myself, enters a family like Nordheim's, he must choose whether to rule, or to occupy a very subordinate position. I prefer to rule."

"You are a monster to talk of ruling that delicate creature!" Benno broke out, angrily.

"Of course I did not mean Alice," Wolfgang rejoined, coolly; "her nature is extremely gentle, and she is used to yield to the will of another. I merely take care that this other shall be myself. You need not look at me so angrily; my wife will never find me a tyrant. I know she needs the greatest forbearance and care, and she shall always find them at my hands."

"Yes, because she brings you a million," Benno muttered, as he turned to go. Elmhorst detained him.

"You have not told me your opinion of Alice?"

"At present I have formed none. She seems to be in an extremely nervous condition, but I must have more opportunity of observation."

"As much as you please. Au revoir."

"Adieu."

They parted, and while Wolfgang returned to his betrothed the doctor left the villa. He seemed in haste, for he strode quickly up a mountain-path, and did not stay his steps or look back until he had reached a distant point.

There, behind those windows with white lace curtains, lay the fairy realm, where they were now ridiculing and laughing at the awkward fellow who had so plainly, in every word and gesture, shown his unfitness for the Nordheim drawing-room. Involuntarily he glanced at his gloves, which had seemed to him so extremely elegant an hour before, and in a sudden fit of impatience he tore them off and tossed the innocent yellow things into the thicket of pines. One fell on the ground, but the other was caught upon a bough, where it dangled and nodded like a huge sunflower. This irritated its owner still more, and he was half minded to send his hat after it, when he bethought himself in time that he really could not dispose of his entire wardrobe thus.

"You cannot help it, old fellow!" he said, sadly, looking at his venerable beaver. "I am not used to polite society. I wonder whether she is laughing too?"

There was no explanation as to whom the 'she' referred to, but certainly for a time Dr. Reinsfeld was as miserable a man as could be found among the mountains. The consciousness of his want of society tact oppressed him terribly.

CHAPTER XI.
ON THE ALM

Saint John's day!–the people's holiday from legendary times, preceding Midsummer day, all redolent with mystery, when hidden treasures rise from the depths and allure wondrously, when the slumbering forces of magic awaken, and the entire elfin world of the mountains reveals itself in its wonder-working power. The people have not forgotten the ancient festival of the sun's turning, and legend still throws its veil about the sacred midsummer-time, when the sun mounts highest, when the earth shows fairest, and warm, fresh life courses throughout nature.

In the country about Wolkenstein this day was one of the grand yearly festivals. The inhabitants of the lonely, secluded Alpine valley which the railway was to open to the world the ensuing year were devoted to their customs and habits, and clung closely to their superstitions. Here the Mountain-Sprite still held undisputed sway, and not merely as a devastating force of nature with snow-storm and avalanche; for most of the people she was enthroned bodily on the veiled summit of the Wolkenstein, and the beacon-fires which flamed up everywhere on St. John's evening had some hidden connection with the dreaded Spirit of the Mountain. Nothing was known here of the pagan significance of the bale-fire, nor of Christian legend gathered about it; the people in their superstition clung directly to their own mountain-legends, which they credited fully.

The clear, mild, June day was near its close; the sun had set; a crimson glow still lingered about the loftiest mountain-tops. All the other heights were lightly veiled in blue mists, while the valleys lay in deep shadow.

High above the forests which clothed the foot of the Wolkenstein, where the projecting cliff's of the huge mountain began their rise, there was a smooth, green meadow, whereon stood a low hut. It was usually very lonely up here, and seldom visited by strangers, since the ascent of the Wolkenstein was deemed impossible, but to-day it was enlivened by an unwonted stir and bustle. A huge wood-pile had been built upon the spacious meadow, many an ancient pine and hemlock having contributed to its erection. Gigantic logs of wood, dry branches, old roots, towered high in air. The bale-fire on the Wolkenstein was always one of the largest, and gleamed far and wide abroad over the country, for was it not lighted upon the legendary throne of the entire range, at the very feet of the Mountain-Sprite?

Around the pile was assembled a circle of mountaineers, mostly shepherds and woodsmen, with girls among them from the neighbouring alms, all powerful, sunburned figures, who lived up on the heights in sunshine and storm all through the summer, descending into the valley only when autumn reigned there. All were in merry mood: there were endless shouts and laughter; for people who worked hard day after day, and whose monotonous existence was rarely interrupted by any relaxation, the old popular festival was a joyous one.

To-day, however, they were not entirely left to themselves; there was a little group of spectators who had taken up a position on one side upon a low eminence. This was an unaccustomed sight for the mountaineers, and under other circumstances would have been an unwelcome one, for on such occasions they liked to feel themselves undisputed lords of their domain. But the young lady sitting on the mossy stone was no stranger among them, nor was the huge lion-like dog at her feet. The two had lived among these mountains for years, in old Wolkenstein Court, not a stone of which was now standing. True, the wild, joyous child of those days had grown to be a grand young lady and lived in the fine Nordheim villa, which was nothing short of a fairy castle in their eyes, but the Fräulein came among them just as she used to do, and talked with them in their patois as of old; no one dreamed of thinking her a stranger.

Moreover, Sepp was with her; he had been ten years in the service of Baron Thurgau, and had superintended the affairs of the little estate, and the two strangers who had accompanied her did not look at all, with their brown faces, like city people. One of them had made Sepp bring him directly into the circle of mountaineers, where he was found to speak the patois perfectly, and was not one whit behind the rest in enjoyment of the fun. The other, who looked a far finer gentleman, with black hair and thick black eyebrows, stayed close beside the young lady, and had just leaned over her to ask rather anxiously, "Are you tired, Fräulein Thurgau? We never stopped once to rest as we came up."

Erna shook her head, smiling: "Oh, no, I have not yet forgotten how to climb. I used to go much higher, greatly to Griff's disgust; he regularly made a halt here when I clambered up the rocks, and he still remembers the place."

"Yes, I saw with admiration how lightly and easily you walked up. I fancy you would find the difficulties of travel mere child's play where other women could not possibly confront them. I am very proud of being your escort upon this bale-fire expedition."

"I should else hardly have been permitted to come. Frau von Lasberg was horrified at the idea of a nightly expedition among the mountains, and Alice is not strong enough to undertake anything of the kind. Sepp indeed long ago offered to accompany me, but he was not thought sufficiently trustworthy, although he lived with us for ten years."

There was a shade of bitterness in the words, which did not escape the hearer.

"You would not have been permitted?" he asked, surprised. "Do you really allow yourself to be governed by others in such matters?"

Erna was silent, knowing well what a scene there had been when she expressed a desire to make this expedition. Frau von Lasberg had been almost beside herself at so eccentric and unbecoming an idea,–wishing to mingle among peasants after nightfall, and to witness their rude festivities. But it chanced that Ernst Waltenberg and his secretary arrived from Heilborn in the afternoon. He immediately offered to escort the young girl, and, as he was already regarded in the Nordheim household as Erna's future husband, the privilege was accorded him which had been denied to faithful old Sepp. Ernst was about to pursue his inquiries, when a stranger approached and said, half shyly, half familiarly,–

"Welcome home, Fräulein von Thurgau!"

"Dr. Reinsfeld!" exclaimed Erna, in delighted surprise, offering him her hand with the same confidence with which as a child she had treated him upon his visits to her father. He seemed at first amazed, but his face instantly lit up with pleasure as he grasped the offered hand with answering cordiality. In a moment Griff had recognized his old friend, and was leaping about him with every mark of delight.

"I did not have a glimpse of you yesterday when you were at our house," said Erna. "I did not know of your visit until you had gone."

"And I did not venture to ask for you; I did not know whether you would like to have me claim acquaintance with you."

"Could you entertain such a doubt?"

There was reproach in her tone, but Reinsfeld evidently was not depressed by it, and he looked at the girl with sparkling eyes. He could see how much more beautiful, how much graver, she had become, but she was the same to him as of old, nor did he in her presence feel any of the timidity and embarrassment which had made him so awkward on the previous day.

"I had such a dread of seeing you a fine lady," he said, simply. "But, thank God, you are not that!"

The ejaculation seemed to come so directly from his heart that Erna laughed,–the same merry, childlike laugh to which she had for years been a stranger.

Waltenberg had at first observed with evident dismay the familiar greetings thus exchanged, and the look with which he had scanned Reinsfeld was darkly suspicious. Its result, however, could not but be satisfactory. This Herr Doctor in jacket and felt hat could hardly be a dangerous rival; the very ease and familiarity of his intercourse with Erna was the best of warrants that he was merely a friend of her childhood. Ernst Waltenberg was quite capable of perceiving this, and his manner when Reinsfeld was presented to him was extremely cordial.

"We are but just arrived," said the doctor, after the introduction had taken place, "and in all this merry turmoil we did not at first perceive you. But where has Wolfgang gone? I brought your future relative with me, Fräulein Thurgau. Wolf, where are you?"

His call was quite unnecessary, for Elmhorst was standing fifty paces off, looking fixedly at the group. Apparently he had not intended to join it; he now slowly approached, and Benno could not but be surprised at the formality of the greetings interchanged between the 'future relatives.' Wolfgang bowed formally, and Erna's manner seemed to indicate that this meeting was anything but agreeable to her.

"I thought you were to be in Oberstein this evening, Herr Elmhorst?" said she. "You spoke yesterday of going there."

"I did, and I have been there with Benno, but he persuaded me to come up to the alm with him."

"That he may see a veritable bale-fire," Benno interposed. "There is one kindled in Oberstein too, but there the entire village, all the labourers on the railway, the engineers, and a crowd of guests from Heilborn are assembled, and so the fine old custom comes to be only a noisy spectacle for strangers. Up here we have the genuine unadulterated mountain-life. And there is Sepp! How are you, old fellow? Yes, we are here. You would rather we were not to-night, I know, and therefore I said not one word in Oberstein of our expedition. You must put up with us,–that is, with the Herr Superintendent and the stranger gentleman there,–for Fräulein von Thurgau and I belong here."

"Yes, you belong here," said Sepp, solemnly. "You surely ought not to be absent."

"I should like to protest against being treated as an entire stranger," said Wolfgang. "I have been living for three years in the mountains."

"But in constant war with them," Waltenberg interposed, half ironically. "That would hardly establish your right to feel at home among them, it seems to me."

"At most only the right of the conqueror;" Erna said, coldly. "Herr Elmhorst upon his arrival here was wont to boast that he would take possession of the realm of the Mountain-Sprite and bind it in chains."

"You see, however, Fräulein Thurgau," Wolfgang replied, in the same tone, "that it was no empty boast. We have brought her under subjection, the haughty ruler of the mountains. She made it difficult enough for us, so intrenching herself in her forests and fields that we were obliged to contend for every step of our way; but she was conquered at last. By the end of autumn the last structures will be completed, and next spring our trains will thunder through this entire Wolkenstein domain."

"I am sorry for the magnificent valley," said Waltenberg. "All its beauty will be lost when steam once takes possession of it and the shrill whistle of the locomotive invades the sublime repose of the mountains."

Wolfgang shrugged his shoulders: "I am sorry, but such romantic considerations cannot have any weight where the question is one of furnishing the world with roads for travel."

"The world which belongs to you! Here in Europe you have mastered it with steam and iron. We who would find some quiet valley wherein to dream undisturbed shall finally be obliged to seek it in some distant island in the ocean."

"Assuredly, Herr Waltenberg, if such dreaming seem to you the sole aim of existence. For us it is action."

Ernst bit his lip: he saw that Erna was listening, and to be thus reproved in her presence was more than he could bear; adopting, therefore, the same indifferent, high-bred tone with which he had tried to humiliate the 'fortune-hunter' at their first interview, he said, "The old dispute, begun in the Herr President's conservatory! I never doubted your activity, Herr Elmhorst; you have certainly by its aid achieved brilliant results."

Wolfgang involuntarily held himself more erect; he knew what result was meant, but he merely smiled contemptuously. Here he was not merely 'the future husband of Alice Nordheim' as in society in the capital; here he was in his own domain, and with all the proud self-consciousness of a man perfectly aware of his talent and of his achievements, he replied, "You allude to my work as an engineer? The Wolkenstein bridge is indeed my first work, but it will hardly be my last."

Waltenberg was silenced. He had seen the gigantic structure spanning the yawning abyss, and he felt that he must give up treating as an adventurer the man who had devised it. Though he should aspire ten times over to the hand of the millionaire's daughter, there was stuff in this Elmhorst, even his antagonist must admit, however unwillingly.

"I have indeed admired the engineer of that magnificent work," he replied, after a pause.

"I am greatly flattered by your saying so,–you have seen all the finest bridges in the world."

The words sounded courteous, but the glances which the men exchanged were like rapiers. Each felt at this moment that something more than dislike–that positive hatred divided them.

Hitherto Erna had taken no part in the conversation; she probably perceived with whom the victory lay, for her voice betrayed annoyance as she interposed at last: "You had better give up contending with Herr Elmhorst. He is of iron, like his work, and there is no place in his world for romance. You and I belong to quite another one, and the abyss between his and ours no bridge can span."

"You and I,–yes!" Ernst repeated quickly, turning to her. All strife was forgotten and all hatred dissolved in the joy that sparkled in his eyes as he said, almost triumphantly, 'you and I!'

Wolfgang retired so suddenly that Benno looked amazed. The doctor was talking with Veit Gronau, who had approached when he heard from Sepp the name Reinsfeld, and had introduced himself.

"You cannot possibly remember me," he was saying, "You were a very little fellow when I went abroad, so you must believe upon the evidence of my face that I was a friend of your father's when he was young. He died long ago, I know, but his son will not refuse me the hand which my old Benno cannot give me."

"Most certainly not," Benno assured him, pressing the offered hand cordially. "And now let me hear how it happens that you have returned to Europe."