"Sure 'tis fair in foreign land, But not so fair as home;Let me but see thy mountains grand Glaciers and snowy dome!
Let me but hear the sound that tellsOf climbing cattle, dressed with bells." The Switzer's Homesickness.
Not until after breakfast did the preacher pass over to Otto'saffairs. His grandfather's will made him the sole heir to the largeproperty; a man in Copenhagen, the merchant Berger, should be hisguardian, since the preacher did not wish to undertake the office.Rosalie was not forgotten: her devotion and fidelity had won forher a relative's right. Her last days should be free from care: shehad truly striven to remove all care from the dead whilst yet helived. An old age free from care awaited her; but Otto wished thatshe should also have a happy old age. He imparted his plan to thepreacher; but the latter shook his head, thought it was notpracticable, and regarded it as a mere fancy--a whim. But such itwas not.
Some days passed by. One afternoon Rosalie sat upon a small woodenbench under the cherry-trees, and was making mourning for thewinter.
"This is the last summer that we shall sit here," said she; "thelast summer that this is our home. Now I am become equally rootedto this spot; it grieves me that I must leave it."
"Thou wast forced to leave thy dear Switzerland," said Otto; "thatwas still harder!"
"I was then young," answered she. "The young tree may be easilytransplanted, but the old one has shot forth deeper roots. Denmarkis a good land--a beautiful land!"
"But not the west coast of Jutland!" exclaimed Otto. "For thy greenpasture hast thou here heath; for thy mountains, low sand-hills."
"Upon the Jura Mountains there is also heath," said Rosalie. "Theheath here often reminds me of my home on the Jura. There also isit cold, and snow can fall already in August. The fir-trees thenstand as if powdered over."
"I love Switzerland, which I have never seen," pursued Otto. "Thyrelation has given me a conception of the picturesque magnificenceof this mountain-land. I have a plan, Rosalie. I know that in theheart of a mountaineer homesickness never dies. I remember well howthy eyes sparkled when thou toldest of the walk toward Le Locle andNeufch鈚el; even as a boy I felt at thy words the light mountainair. I rode with thee upon the dizzy height, where the woods laybelow us like potato fields. What below arose, like the smoke froma charcoal-burner's kiln, was a cloud in the air. I saw the Alpinechain, like floating cloud mountains; below mist, above dark shapeswith glancing glaciers."
"Yes, Otto," said Rosalie, and her eyes sparkled with youthfulfire; "so looks the Alpine chain when one goes from Le Locle toNeulfch鈚el: so did I see it when I descended the Jura for the listtime. It was in August. The trees, with their autumnal foliage,stood yellow and red between the dark firs; barberries and hipsgrew among the tall fern. The Alps lay in such a beautiful light,their feet blue as heaven, their peaks snow-white in the clearsunshine. I was in a sorrowful mood; I was leaving my mountains!Then I wrote in my book--O, I remember it so well!--The high Alpsappear to me the folded wings of the earth: how if she should raisethem! how if the immense wings should unfold, with their gay imagesof dark woods, glaciers, and clouds! What a picture! At the LastJudgment will the earth doubtless unfold these pinions, soar up toGod, and in the rays of His sunlight disappear! I also have beenyoung, Otto," pursued she, with a melancholy smile. "Thou wouldsthave felt still more deeply at the sight of this splendor ofnature. The lake at the foot of the mountains was smooth as amirror; a little boat with white sails swam, like a swan, upon itsexpanse. On the road along which we drove were the peasants beatingdown chestnuts; the grapes hung in large black bunches. How animpression such as this can root itself in the memory! It is fiveand thirty years since, and yet I still see that boat with thewhite sail, the high Alps, and the black grapes."
"Thou shalt see thy Switzerland again, Rosalie," exclaimed Otto;"again hear the bells of the cows upon the green pastures! Thoushalt go once more to the chapel in Franche Compt? shalt visitthy friends at Le Locle, see the subterranean mill, and the Doubfall."
"The mill wheel yet goes round, the water dashes down as in myyouth; but the friends are gone, my relatives dispersed! I shouldappear a stranger there; and when one has reached my age, naturecannot satisfy--one must have people!"
"Thou knowest, Rosalie, my grandfather has settled a sum upon theeso long as thou livest. Now I have thought thou couldst spend thylatter days with thy beloved ones at home, in the gloriousSwitzerland. In October I take my philosophicum; the followingsummer I would then accompany thee. I must also see that splendidmountain-land,--know something more of the world than I have yetknown. I know how thy thoughts always dwell upon Switzerland.Thither will I reconduct thee; thou wilt feel thyself less lonelythere than here in Denmark."
"Thou art carried away by the thoughts of youth, as thou shouldstand must be, thou dear, sweet soul!" said Rosalie, smiling. "At myage it is not so easy."
"We will make short days' journeys," said Otto, "go with thesteamboat up the Rhine--that is not fatiguing; and from Basel oneis soon in Franche Compt?on the Jura."
"No, upon the heath, near Vestervovov, as it is called here, willold Rosalie die; here I have felt myself at home, here I have twoor three friends. The family at Lemvig have invited me, have for mea place at table, a little room, and friendly faces. Switzerlandwould be no longer that Switzerland which I quitted. Nature wouldgreet me as an old acquaintance; it would be to me music, once moreto hear the ringing of the cows' bells; it would affect me deeply,once again to kneel in the little chapel on the mountain: but Ishould soon feel myself a greater stranger there than here. Had itbeen fifteen years ago, my sister would still have been living, thedear, pious Ad鑜e! She dwelt with my uncle close on the confines ofNeufch鈚el, as thou knowest, scarcely a quarter of a mile from LeLocle--the town, as we called it, because it was the largestplace in the neighborhood. Now there are only distant relations ofmine living, who have forgotten me. I am a stranger there. Denmarkgave me bread, it will also give me a grave!"
"I thought of giving thee a pleasure!" said Otto.
"That thou dost by thy love to me!" returned she.
"I thought thou wouldst have shown me thy mountains, thy home, ofwhich thou hast so often spoken!"
"That can I still do. I remember every spot, every tree--allremains so clear in my recollection. Then we ascend together theJura higher and higher; here are no more vineyards to be found, nomaize, no chestnuts only dark pines, huge cliffs, here and there abeech, as green and large as in Denmark. Now we have the woodbehind us, we are many feet above the sea; thou canst perceive thisby the freshness of the air. Everywhere are green meadows;uninterruptedly reaches our ear the ringing of the cow-bells. Thouas yet seest no town, and yet we are close upon Le Locle. Suddenlythe road turns; in the midst of the mountain-level we perceive asmall valley, and in this lies the town, with its red roofs, itschurches, and large gardens. Close beneath the windows rises themountain-side, with its grass and flowers; it looks as though thecattle must be precipitated upon the houses. We go through the longstreet, past the church; the inhabitants are Protestants--it is acomplete town of watchmakers. My uncle and Ad鑜e also sat the wholeday, and worked at wheels and chains. That was for MonsieurHouriet, in Le Locle. His daughters I know; one is called Rosalie,like myself. Rosalie and Lydia, they will certainly have forgottenme! But it is true that we are upon our own journey! Now, thouseest, at the end of the town we do not follow the broad road--thatleads to Besan鏾n; we remain in the lesser one, here in the valleywhere the town lies. The beautiful valley! The green mountain-sideswe keep to our right; on it are scattered houses, with large stonesupon their steep wooden roofs, and with little gardens tilled withplum-trees. Steep cliff-walls shut in the valley; there stands up acrag; if thou climbest it thou canst look straight into France: onesees a plain, flat like the Danish plains. In the valley where weare, close under the rock, lies a little house; O, I see itdistinctly! white-washed and with blue painted window-frames: atthe gate a great chained dog. I hear him bark! We step into thatquiet, friendly little house! The children are playing about on theground. O, my little Henry-Numa-Robert! Ah, it is true that now heis older and taller than thou! We descend the steps toward thecellar. Here stand sacks and chests of flour; under the floor onehears a strange roaring; still a few steps lower, and we must lightthe lamp, for here it is dark. We find ourselves in a great water-mill,a subterranean mill. Deep below in the earth rushes a river--above no one dreams of it; the water dashes down several fathomsover the rushing wheel, which threatens to seize our clothes andwhirl us away into the circle. The steps on which we stand areslippery: the stone walls drip with water, and only a step beyondthe depth appears bottomless! O, thou wilt love this mill as I loveit! Again having reached the light of day, and under free heaven,one only perceives the quiet, friendly little house. Dost thouknow, Otto, often as thou hast sat quiet and dreaming, silent as astatue, have I thought of my mill, and the repose which itpresented? and yet how wildly the stream roared in its bosom, howthe wheels rushed round, and how gloomy it was in the depth!"
"We will leave the mill!" said Otto, and sought to lead her fromher reflections back to her own relation. "We find ourselves in thewood, where the ringing of the evening-bell reaches our ear fromthe little chapel in Franche Compt?"
"There stands my father's house!" said Rosalie. "From the corner-windowone looks over the wood toward Aubernez, [Author's Note: A villagein the canton Neufch鈚el, lying close upon the river Doub, whereit forms the boundary between Switzerland and France.] where theridge leads over the Doub. The sun shines upon the river, which,far below, winds along, gleaming like the clearest silver."
"And the whole of France spreads itself out before us!" said Otto.
"How beautiful! O, how beautiful!" exclaimed Rosalie, and her eyessparkled as she gazed before her; but soon her glance became sad,and she pressed Otto's hand. "No one will welcome me to my home! Iknow neither their joys nor their sorrows--they are not my ownfamily! In Denmark--I am at home. When the cold sea-mist spreadsitself over the heath I often fancy I am living among my mountains,where the heather grows. The mist seems to me then to be a snow-cloudwhich rests over the mountains, and thus, when other people arecomplaining of the bad weather, I am up among my mountains!"
"Thou wilt then remove to the family at Lemvig?" asked Otto.
"There I am welcome!" returned she.