"Tell meWhat would my heart? My heart's with thee,With thee would have a part." GOETHE'S West-鰏tlicher Divan."There stands the man again--The man with gloomy mien." Memories of Travel, by B. C. INGEMANN.
Several days passed; the fine crimson again returned to Eva'scheeks. The first occasion of her going out with the others was tosee the rape-stalks burned. These were piled together in twoimmense stacks. In the morning, at the appointed hour, which hadbeen announced through the neighborhood that no one might mistakeit for a conflagration, the stalks were set fire to. This tookplace in the nearest field, close beside the hall, where therape-seed was threshed upon an out-spread sail.
The landscape-painter, Dahl, has given us a picture of the burningVesuvius, where the red lava pours down the side of the mountain;in the background one sees across the bay as far as Naples andIschia: it is a piece full of great effect. Such a splendidlandscape is not to be found in flat Denmark, where there are nogreat natural scenes, and yet this morning presented even there apicture with the same brilliant coloring. We will study it. In theforeground there is a hedge of hazels, the nuts hang in greatclusters, and contrast strongly with their bright green against thedark leaves; the blue chicory-flower and the blood-red poppy grewon the side of the ditch, upon which are some tall rails, overwhich the ladies have to climb: the delicate sylph-like figure isEva. In the field, where nothing remains but the yellow stubble,stand Otto and Wilhelm; two magnificent hounds wag their tailsbeside them. To the left is a little lake, thickly overgrown withreeds and water-lilies, with the yellow trollius for its border. Inthe front, where the wood retreats, lie, like a great stack, thepiled-together rape-stalks: the man has struck fire, has kindledthe outer side of them, and with a rapidity like that of thedescending lava the red fire flashes up the gigantic pile. Itcrackles and roars within it. In a moment it is all a burningmound; the red flames flash aloft into the blue air, high abovethe wood which is now no longer visible. A thick black smokeascends up into the clear air, where it rests like a cloud. Out ofthe flames, and even out of the smoke, the wind carries away largemasses of fire, which, crackling and cracking, are borne on to thewood, and which fill the spectator with apprehension of theirfalling upon the nearest trees and burning up leaf and branch.
"Let us go further off," said Sophie; "the heat is too great here."
They withdrew to the ditch.
"O, how many nuts!" exclaimed Wilhelm; "and I do not get one ofthem! I shall go after them if they be ripe."
"But you have grapes and other beautiful fruit!" said Eva smiling."We have our beautiful things at home!"
"Yes, it is beautiful, very beautiful at home!" exclaimed Wilhelm;"glorious flowers, wild nuts; and there we have Vesuvius beforeus!" He pointed to the burning pile.
"No," said Sophie; "it seems to me much more like the pile uponwhich the Hindoo widow lays herself alive to be burned! That mustbe horrible!"
"One should certainly be very quickly dead!" said Eva.
"Would you actually allow yourself to be burned to death, if youwere a Hindoo widow--after, for instance, Mr. Thostrup, or afterWilhelm," said she, with a slight embarrassment, "if he lay dead inthe fire?"
"If it were the custom of the country, and I really had lost theonly support which I had in the world--yes, so I would!"
"O, no, no!" said Louise.
"In fact it is brilliant!" exclaimed Sophie.
"Burning is not, perhaps, the most painful of deaths!" said Otto,and plucked in an absent manner the nuts from the hedge. "I know astory about a true conflagration."
"What is it like?" asked Wilhelm.
"Yet it is not a story to tell in a large company; it can only beheard when two and two are together. When I have an opportunity, Ishall tell it!"
"O, I know it!" said Wilhelm. "You can relate it to one of mysisters there, whichever you like best! Then I shall--yes, I mustrelate it to Eva!"
"It is too early in the day to hear stories told!" said Louise;"let us rather sing a song!"
"No, then we shall have to weep in the evening," replied Wilhelm.And they had neither the song nor the story.
Mamma came wandering with Vasserine, the old, faithful hound: theytwo also wished to see how beautiful the burning looked. Itsucceeded excellently with the rape-stalks; but the other burning,of which the story was to be told, it did not yet arrive at anoutbreak! It might be expected, however, any hour in the day.
In the evening Otto walked alone through the great chestnut avenue.The moon shone brightly between the tree-branches. When he enteredthe interior court Wilhelm and Sophie skipped toward him, butsoftly, very softly. They lifted their hands as if to impresssilence.
"Come and see!" said Sophie; "it is a scene which might be painted!it goes on merrily in the servants' hall; one can see charminglythrough the window!"
"Yes, come!" said Wilhelm.
Otto stole softly forward. The lights shone forth.
Within there was laughter and loud talking; one struck upon thetable, another sung,--
"And I will away to Prussia land, Hurrah! And when I am come to Prussia land, Hurrah!" [Note: People's song.]
Otto looked in through the window.
Several men and maids sat within at the long wooden table at theend of this stood Sidsel in a bent attitude, her countenance was ofa deep crimson; she spoke a loud oath and laughed--no one imaginedthat they were observed. All eyes were riveted upon a great fellowwho, with his shirt-sleeves rolled up, and a pewter tankard in hishand, was standing there. It was the German Heinrich, who wasexhibiting to them his conjuring tricks. Otto turned pale; had thedead arisen from the bier before him it could not have shocked himmore.
"Hocus-pocus Larifari!" cried Heinrich within, and gave the tankardto a half-grown fellow, of the age between boy and man.
"If thou hast already a sweetheart," said he; "then the corn whichis within it will be turned to flour; but if thou art still only ayoung cuckoo, then it will remain only groats."
"Nay, Anders Peersen!" said all the girls laughing, "now we shallsee whether thou art a regular fellow!"
Sophie stole away.
The echoing laughter and clapping of hands announced the result.
"Is it not the same person who was playing conjuring tricks in thepark?" inquired Wilhelm.
"Yes, certainly," replied Otto; "he is to me quite repulsive!" Andso saying, he followed Sophie.
Late in the evening, when all had betaken themselves to rest,Wilhelm proposed to Otto that they should make a little tour, as hecalled it.
"I fancy Meg Merrilies, as my sister calls Sidsel," said he, "hasmade a conquest of the conjuror, although he might be her father.They have been walking together down the avenue; they have beenwhispering a deal together; probably he will to-night sleep in oneof the barns. I must go and look after him; he will be lying thereand smoking his pipe, and may set our whole place on fire. Shall wego down together? We can take Vasserine and Fingel with us."
"Let him sleep!" said Otto; "he will not be so mad as to smoketobacco in the straw! To speak candidly, I do not wish to be seenby him. He was several times at my grandfather's house. I havespoken with him, and now that I dislike him I do not wish to seehim!"
"Then I will go alone!" said Wilhelm.
Otto's heart beat violently; he stood at the open window and lookedout over the dark wood, which was lit up by the moon. Below in thecourt he heard Wilhelm enticing the dogs out. He heard yet anothervoice, it was that of the steward, and then all was again silent.Otto thought upon the German Heinrich and upon Sophie, his life'sgood and bad angels; and he pictured to himself how it would be ifshe extended to him her hand--was his bride! and Heinrich calledforth before her the recollections which made his blood curdle.
It seemed to him as if something evil impended over him this night."I feel a forewarning of it!" said he aloud.
Wilhelm came not yet back.
Almost an hour passed thus. Wilhelm entered, both dogs were withhim; they were miry to their very sides.
"Did you meet any one?" inquired Otto.
"Yes, there was some one," said Wilhelm, "but not in the barn. Thestupid dogs seemed to lose their nature; it was as if there was asomebody stealing along the wall, and through the reeds in themoat. The hounds followed in there; you can see how they look!--butthey came the next moment back again, whined, and hung down theirears and tails. I could not make them go in again. Then the stewardwas superstitious! But, however, it could only be either thejuggler, or one of the servant-men who had stilts. How otherwiseany one could go in among the reeds without getting up to theirnecks, I cannot conceive!"
All was again perfectly still without. The two friends went to theopen window, threw their arms over each other's shoulders, andlooked out into the silent night.