Part 3 (1/2)
”'I release you from that obligation. Whoever is to suffer, does not die. Come! Turn, the boat around.'
”'Very well,' said I, '_vogue la galere_!'
”And then we pushed out through the angry, swelling waves, while the air about us grew ever darker, and the houses at Montreux gleamed above us in dazzling suns.h.i.+ne. m.u.f.fled thunder came from the peaks beyond, but as yet no drops fell. As we were then rowing, we would reach home in half an hour. No one spoke a word. She had drawn her veil half over her face. I could see only her pale mouth. Her lips were slightly parted, and I saw them quiver now and then, more from scorn than pain.
Suddenly she arose and hurried over the seats to the stern, where the boatman sat at the rudder.
”'What are you going to do?' I cried.
”'Nothing wrong. I merely wish to relieve the boatman for a while. I understand how, perfectly well.'
”Before I could interfere, she had taken the rudder from the boy's hand and seated herself in his place. I was somewhat disturbed at this, as her voice sounded unnatural. But, in order to lose no time, I let her remain there, and redoubled my own exertions. In a short time, I saw that she had given the boat a direction which drove it into the very midst of the raging lake. Yet her delicate arms had so much strength that, in spite of my efforts, I could not turn the boat back again.
Suddenly I realized that she was doing this with a clear purpose.
”'You are steering falsely,' I cried to her. 'I beg you, for G.o.d's sake, give up the rudder. We are in the very centre of the storm.'
”'Do you mean it?' she answered softly. 'I thought you had no fear.
Only look at the beautiful waves. They do nothing unkind; they receive one in their arms more gently than mankind. Look, look! Could anything be merrier!'
”A large wave broke over us; we were instantly wet to the skin.
The first sharp flash of lightning darted down from the black mountain-wall.
”I could not leave the oars; I bade the boy take the rudder again; he shrugged his shoulders, and pointed to the Countess. Undisturbed by everything about her, she was staring wildly into the distance. We were already so far from sh.o.r.e that the houses were scarcely distinguishable through the gray storm-twilight. Some action was imperative. Standing up, I motioned the boatman to take my oars, and strode, wavering and staggering, to the other end of the skiff. Her eyes met mine through the veil with a stubborn, threatening look.
”'Be reasonable!' I said in German; 'I shall not suffer this any longer. Give me the rudder, will you? Well then--' Seizing her hands with a quick movement, I pressed them so hard that she released the rudder. I held her thus for a moment, although I must have hurt her.
She gave no sign of pain, but gazed steadily into my eyes with a look of hate or the deepest rage. Then her face changed; her month trembled; her eyes closed with an expression of unutterable misery and despair; as I freed her hands, she threw herself at my feet, and I heard a stifled sob and the words, '_Pardonnez-moi! Je suis une folle!_'
”I seized the rudder, and, in my distress and bewilderment, could only whisper to her that she must control herself and rise again. In a few moments she was once more seated on the bench, but this time with averted face and bowed head. I did not speak to her again, for I was obliged to exert all my strength to bring the boat back into the right course, and to steer for the land. But the brief scene affected me so powerfully, that one thought was continually uppermost in my mind--what rapture it would have been, amid this wild upheaval of the elements, to clasp her close, and with her go to the bottom!
”The storm helped us, and we landed much sooner than I had expected.
Springing out first, I offered to a.s.sist her, but she refused my aid and jumped out on the beach without help. She was trembling through and through in her wet clothes. I asked if she were ill, but she shook her head. Yet she took my arm as I accompanied her back to the house.
”My wife was standing on the balcony, and welcomed us cheerily. She had been greatly worried about us. She would come down and help her friend undress.
”'Oh, no, no!' cried the Countess, withdrawing her arm from mine, 'I need nothing, thank you--good-night!'
”Thereupon she hurried away from me, without so much as a backward glance or a wave of the hand. I followed slowly; I felt very much exhausted, and went upstairs still staggering from the motion of the boat. The storm was entirely over; a crimson sunset glow filled our room. My wife had already laid out dry clothing for me; she received me in her usual quietly affectionate manner and then left me alone, for I had to dress myself from head to feet. It did not occur to me that she said very little, and asked for no detailed account of our adventure in the boat. My own feelings were absorbed by my recent experience, and I changed my clothes mechanically, as if in a dream.
”Then I remembered the child. As I entered the other room, I saw the little one sleeping in an arm-chair near the open window. My wife whispered to me that she had given her some medicine, which had caused her to fall asleep during the reading. I might go to dinner alone; she herself had no appet.i.te, and would content herself with a cup of tea.
”So I went down, although I also would have preferred to remain away from the table. I had no wish to sit alone opposite Lucile. But this ordeal was spared me. She too remained in her chamber. I did not speak a word during the lengthy dinner. I usually smoked my after-dinner cigar in the garden. By doing so I did not separate myself from the women, but could chat back and forth with them; for though of late both had been together, the Countess usually sat at her window or on the terrace, and my wife on the balcony above. Tonight, balcony and terrace were empty, and I soon withdrew to the most remote part of the garden.
”I would lie if I should say that I had seriously considered my condition. I endured it that was all. I had a definite feeling that things could not remain so; that something must happen, be decided, or expressed, if I were not to be stifled by the suppression. But what the something would be I could not imagine. My cigar had long gone out; yet I remained on the parapet of the little pavilion and gazed out over the dusky surface of the lake, which appeared like some vast, metallic mirror framed in black mountains. Not till the first stars began to glimmer forth could I decide to return to the house. For the first time, the thought of meeting my wife was painful to me. Therefore it was an actual relief when, knocking gently at her door, I heard instead of 'Come in!' the whispered request not to enter then; she had just put the little one to bed and did not wish to disturb her. She bade me good-night. So for the present I was alone with my troubled soul.
”I lighted the lamp and attempted to read. The letters danced before my eyes. I took up my wife's portfolio and looked at her drawings leaf by leaf; but when I came to the portrait sketch I closed the folio hastily, as if I had caught myself entering upon forbidden paths. Then, for a long while, I sat perfectly pa.s.sive before my writing-table with my head resting on my hand, and sank ever deeper into an abyss of hopeless wishes, sorrows, and self-reproaches.
”By and by the door was opened softly, and my wife entered. She had on her night-cap, but was otherwise completely dressed. Evidently in the act of going to bed she had suddenly resolved on something else.
”Her face was unusually pale; her beautiful eyes glistened strangely as if a slight shower of tears had pa.s.sed over them. A certain air of timidity made her seem ten years younger, indeed, almost girlish. I had never felt so clearly what a treasure she was to me.