Part 36 (1/2)

”Look at that unfaded leaf! Henry. What a gentle breeze it was, that parted it from its fellows! To me it resembles a youthful soul, cut off in its prime, and wandering mateless in eternity.”

Sir Henry only sighed.

The young rower silently pursued his course across the lake; running his boat aground, on a small pebbly strand near a white cottage.

Jumping nimbly from his seat, and fastening the boat to a large stone, the guide, followed by the brothers, shouted to the inmates of the cottage, and violently kicked at its frail door.

An upper window was opened, and the guardian of the echo--a valorous divine in a black night-cap--demanded their business. This was soon told.

The priest descended--struck a light--unbarred the door--and with the prospect of gain before him, fairly forgot that he had been aroused from a deep slumber.

They were soon ushered into the kitchen. An aged crone descended, and raking the charcoal embers, kindled a flame, by which the rower was enabled to light his pipe.

The young gentleman threw himself into an arm chair, and puffed away with true German phlegm. The old man bustled about, in order to obtain the necessary materials for loading an ancient cannon; and occupied himself for some minutes, in driving the charge into the barrel.

This business arranged, he led the way towards the beach; and aided by the old woman, pointed his warlike weapon. A short pause--it was fired!

Rebounding from hill to hill, the echo took its course, startling the peasant from his couch, and the wolf from his lair.

Again all was still;--then came its distant reverberation--a tone deep and subdued--dying away mournfully on the ear.

”How wonderfully fine!” said George, ”but let us embark, for I feel quite chilled.”

”I will run for the youngster,” replied his brother. As he moved towards the cottage, the priest seized him by the collar of the coat, and held up the torch, by which he had fired the cannon.

”This echo is indeed a wonderful one! It has nineteen distinct repet.i.tions; the first twelve being heard from _this_ side of a valley, which, were it day, I would point out; the other seven, on the opposite side. Tradition tells us, that nineteen castles in ancient times, stood near the spot; that each of these laid claim to the echo; and that, as it pa.s.ses the ruin, where once dwelt Sigismund of the b.l.o.o.d.y Hand, the chief springs from the round ivied tower--waves his sword thrice, the drops of blood falling from its hilt as he does so--and proclaims aloud, that whosoever dare gainsay”--

”I am sorry to leave you,” interrupted Sir Henry, as he shook him off, ”particularly at this interesting part of the story; but it is late, and my brother feels unwell, and I wish to go to the cottage to call our guide.”

Delme was pursued by the echo's elucidator, who being duly remunerated, allowed Sir Henry to accompany the guide towards the boat. George was not standing where he had left him. Delme stepped forward, and nearly fell over a prostrate body.

It was the motionless one of his brother.

He gave a shriek of anguish; flew towards the house, and in a moment, was again on the spot, bearing the priest's torch. He raised his brother's head. One hand was extended over the body, and fell to the earth like a clod of clay as it was.

He gazed on that loved face. In that gaze, how much was there to arrest his attention.

On those features, death had stamped his seal.

But there was a thought, which bore the ascendancy over this in Delme's mind. It was a thought which rose involuntarily,--one for which he could not _then_ account, and cannot now. For some seconds, it swayed his every emotion. He felt the conviction--deep, undefinable--that there was indeed a soul, to ”shame the doctrine of the Sadducee.”

He deemed that on those lineaments, this was the language forcibly engraven! The features were still and fixed:--the brow alone revealed a dying sense of pain.

The lips! how purple were they! and the eye, that erst flashed so freely:--the yellow film of death had dimmed its l.u.s.tre.

The legs were apart, and one of the feet was in the lake. Henry tried to chafe his brother's forehead.

In vain! in vain! he knew it was in vain!