"Ah! wonderfully beautiful is God's earth, and worthy it is to livecontented."--H諰TY.
We now return to the hall in Funen, to the family which we leftthere; but autumn and winter are gone whilst we have been lingeringon the past. Otto and Wilhelm have been two months away. It is theautumn of 1832.
The marriage of the Kammerjunker and Sophie was deferred, accordingto her wish, until the second of April, because this day isimmortal in the annals of Denmark. In the house, where there nowwere only the mother, Louise, and Eva, all was quiet. Through thewhole winter Eva had become weaker; yet she did not resemble theflowers which wither; there was no expression of illness about her--it was much more as if the spiritual nature overpowered thebodily; she resembled an astral lamp which, filled with light,seems almost resembled be an ethereal existence. The dark-blue eyeshad an expression of soul and feeling which attracted even thesimple domestics at the hall. The physician assured them that her chest was sound, and that her malady was to him a riddle. Abeautiful summer, he thought, would work beneficially upon her.
Wilhelm and Otto wrote alternately. It was a festival-day whenevera letter came; then were maps and plans of the great cities fetchedout, and Louise and Eva made the journey with them.
"To-day they are here, to-morrow they will be there," cried they.
"How I envy them both, to see all these glorious things!" saidLouise.
"The charming Switzerland!" sighed Eva. "How refreshing the airmust be to breathe! How well one must feel one's self there!"
"If you could only go there, Eva," said Louise, "then you wouldcertainly get better."
"Here all are so kind to me; here I am so happy!" answered she. "Iam right thankful to God for it. How could I have hoped for such ahome as this? God reward you and your good mother for your kindnessto me. Once I was so unhappy; but now I have had a double repaymentfor all my sorrow, and all the neglect I have suffered. I am sohappy, and therefore I would so willingly live!"
"Yes, and you shall live!" said Louise. "How came you now to thinkabout dying? In the summer you will perfectly recover, thephysician says. Can you hide from me any sorrow? Eva, I know thatmy brother loves you!"
"He will forget that abroad!" said Eva. "He must forget it! Could Ibe ungrateful? But we are not suited for each other!" She spoke ofher childhood, of long-passed, sorrowful days. Louise laid her armupon her shoulder: they talked till late in the evening, and tearsstood in Louise's eyes.
"Only to you could I tell it!" said Eva. "It is to me like a sin,and yet I am innocent. My mother was so too--my poor mother! Hersin was love. She sacrificed all; more than a woman shouldsacrifice. The old Colonel was stern and violent. His wrath oftenbecame a sort of frenzy, in which he knew not what he did. The sonwas young and dissipated; my mother a poor girl, but very handsome,I have heard. He seduced her. She had become an unfortunate being,and that she herself felt. The Colonel's son robbed his father andan old woman who lived in the family: that which had been taken wasmissed. The father would have murdered the son, had he discoveredthe truth; the son, therefore, sought in his need help from my poormother. He persuaded her to save him by taking the guilt onherself. The whole affair as regarded her was, he intended, only tocome from the domestics. She thought that with her honor all waslost. She, indeed, had already given him the best of which she waspossessed. In anguish of heart, and overpowered by his prayers, shesaid, 'Yes; my father has been angry and undone already '"
Eva burst into tears.
"Thou dear, good girl!" said Louise, and kissed her forehead.
"My poor mother," continued Eva, "was condemned to an undeservedpunishment. I cannot mention it. For that reason I have never had adesire to go to Odense. The old lady in the Colonel's familyconcealed, out of kindness, her loss; but by accident it wasdiscovered. The Colonel was greatly embittered. My mother wasoverwhelmed by shame and misfortune: the first error had plungedher into all this. She was taken to the House of Correction inOdense. The Colonel's son shortly afterward went away in a vessel.My unhappy mother was dispirited: nobody knew that she had endured,out of despair and love, a disgrace which she had not deserved. Itwas not until she lay upon her death-bed, when I and my brotherwere born, that she told a relation that she was innocent. Like acriminal, in the early morning she was carried to the grave in acoffin of plaited straw. A great and a noble heart was carriedunacknowledged to the dead!"
"You had a brother?" inquired Louise, and her heart beat violently."Did he die? and where did you, poor children, remain?"
"The cook in the house kept us with her. I was small and weak; mybrother, on the contrary, was strong, and full of life. He livedmostly among the prisoners. I sat in a little room with my doll.When we were in our seventh year, we were sent for to the oldColonel. His son died abroad; but before his death he had writtento the old man, confessing to him his crime, my mother's innocence,and that we were his children! I resembled my father greatly. Theold gentleman, as soon as he saw me, was very angry, and said, 'Iwill not have her!' I remained with my foster-mother. I never sawmy brother after that time. The Colonel left the city, and took himwith him."
"O God!" cried Louise; "you have still some papers on this subject?Do you not know your brother? It is impossible that it should beotherwise! You are Otto's sister!"
"O Heavens!" exclaimed Eva; her hands trembled, and she became aspale as a corpse.
"You are fainting!" cried Louise, throwing her arm around herwaist and kissing her eyes and her cheeks. "Eva! he is yourbrother! the dear, good Otto! O, he will be so happy with you!Yes, your eyes are like his! Eva, you beloved girl!"
Louise related to her all that Otto had confided to her. She toldher about German Heinrich, and how Otto had assisted Sidsel away,and how they had met.
Eva burst into tears. "My brother! O Father in heaven, that I maybut live! live and see him! Life is so beautiful! I must not die!"
"Happiness will make you strong! There is no doubt but that he isyour brother! We must tell it to mamma. O Heavens! how delightedshe will be! and Otto will no longer suffer and be unhappy! He maybe proud of you, and happy in you! O, come, come!"
She led Eva out with her to her mother, who was already in bed; buthow could Louise wait till next morning?
"May the Lord bless thee, my good child!" said the lady, andpressed a kiss upon her forehead.
Eva related now how the Colonel had, given a considerable sum toher foster-mother; but that was all she was to receive, he hadsaid. Afterward, when the foster-mother died, Eva had still twohundred rix-dollars; and on consideration of this the sister of thedeceased had taken Eva to live with her. With her she came toCopenhagen and to Nyboder, and at that time she was ten years old.There she had to nurse a little child--her brother she called it--and that was the little Jonas. As she grew older, people told herthat she was handsome. It was now four years since she was followedone evening by two young men, one of whom we know--our moral HansPeter. One morning her foster-mother came to her with a proposalwhich drove her to despair. The merchant had seen her, and wishedto purchase the beautiful flower. Upon this Eva left her home, andcame to the excellent people at Roeskelde; and from that day Godhad been very good to her.
She sank down upon her knees before the elderly lady's bed. She wasnot among strangers: a mother and a sister wept with the happy one.
"O that I might live!" besought Eva, in the depths of her heart. Asa glorified one she stood before them. Her joy beamed throughtears.
The next morning she felt herself singularly unwell. Her feettrembled; her cheeks were like marble. She seated herself in thewarm sunshine which came in through the window. Outside stood thetrees with large, half-bursting buds. A few mild nights would makethe wood green. But summer was already in Eva's heart; there waslife's joy and gladness. Her large, thoughtful eyes raisedthemselves thankfully to heaven.
"Let me not die yet, good God!" prayed she; and her lips moved to alow melody, soft as if breezes passed over the outstretched chords:--
"The sunshine warm, the odorous flowers, Of these do not bereave me! I breathe with joy the morning hours, Let not the grave receive me! There can no pleasant sunbeams fall, No human voice come near me; There should I miss the flow'rets small, There have no friends to cheer me.
Now, how to value life I know-- I hold it as a treasure; There is no love i' th' grave below, No music, warmth, or pleasure. On it the heavy earth is flung, The coffin-lid shuts tightly! My blood is warm, my soul is young! Life smiles--life shines so brightly!"
She folded her hands: all became like flowers and gold before hereyes. Afar off was the sound of music: she reeled and sank downupon the sofa which was near her. Life flowed forth from her heart,but the sensation was one of bliss; a repose, as when the wearybow down their heads for sleep.
"Here is a letter!" cried Louise, full of joy, and found her whiteand cold. Terrified, she called for help, and bent over her.
Eva was dead.