Part 4 (1/2)

His mother! As he lay in her arms while she overwhelmed him with pa.s.sionate caresses--with tender, fond names such as he had never heard, all else disappeared in the flood of overwhelming delight.

Several minutes pa.s.sed thus, then Hartmut disengaged himself from the embrace which would have detained him.

”Why have you never been with me, mamma?” he asked vehemently. ”Why did they tell me that you were dead?”

Zalika drew back. In a moment all the tenderness vanished from her face; a light kindled there of wild, deadly hatred, and the answer came hissing from her lips:

”Because your father hates me, my son, and because he did not wish to leave me even the love of my only child when he thrust me from him.”

Hartmut was silent with consternation. He knew well that no one dared mention his mother's name in his father's presence--that his father had once silenced him with the greatest harshness when he had ventured to ask for her, but he had been too young to muse over the why.

Zalika did not give him time for it now. She stroked the dark, curly hair back from the high forehead, and a shadow rested on her face.

”You have his brow,” she said slowly, ”but that is the only thing to remind of him; everything else belongs to me--to me alone. Every feature tells that you are wholly mine. I knew it would be so.”

Again she embraced him, overwhelming him with caresses, which Hartmut returned as pa.s.sionately. It was an intoxication of happiness to him--like one of the fairy tales of which he had so often dreamed, and he gave himself up to the charm unquestioningly and unreservedly.

But now w.i.l.l.y made himself heard on the opposite bank, calling loudly for his friend, and reminding him that it was time to return home.

Zalika started.

”We must part. n.o.body must know that I have seen you and spoken with you, particularly your father. When do you return to him?”

”In eight days.”

”Not until then?” The tone was triumphant. ”I shall see you every day until then. Be here at the pond to-morrow at the same hour. Dispense with your companion under some pretext, so that we may be undisturbed.

You will come, Hartmut?”

”Certainly mother, but----”

She did not give him time for an excuse, but continued in the same pa.s.sionate whisper:

”Above all, be silent to everybody; do not forget that. Farewell, my child, my beloved only son. Au revoir!”

One more fervent kiss upon Hartmut's brow, then she vanished in the bushes as mysteriously as she had appeared. It was quite time, for w.i.l.l.y appeared on the scene, his approach being heralded by his heavy stamping upon the forest ground.

”Why do you not answer?” he demanded. ”I have called three times. Did you fall asleep? You look as if you had been startled from a dream.”

Hartmut stood as if stunned, gazing upon the bushes in which his mother had disappeared. At his cousin's words he straightened himself and drew his hand across his brow.

”Yes, I have been dreaming,” he said, slowly; ”quite a wonderful, strange dream.”

”You might rather have been fis.h.i.+ng,” said w.i.l.l.y; ”just see what a splendid catch I got over on the other bank. A person ought not to dream in broad daylight. He ought to be properly occupied, my mother says--and my mother is always right.”

CHAPTER IV.

The families of Falkenried and Wallmoden had been friendly for years.