Part 39 (1/2)

The two friends, for such they might now be styled, walked towards the castle, arm in arm; and stood on the terrace, adorned with headless statues, and backed by a part of the mouldering ruin, half hid by the thick ivy.

They looked down on the many winding river, murmuringly gliding through its vine covered banks.

Beyond this, stretched a wide expanse of country; while beneath them lay the town of Heidelberg--the blue smoke hanging over it like a magic diadem.

”Here, here!” said Carl Obers, as he gazed on the scene, with mournful sensations, ”_here _ were my youthful visions conceived and embodied--_here_ did I form vows, to break the bonds of enslaved mankind--_here_ did I dream of grateful thousands, standing erect for the first time as free men--_here_ did I brood over, the possible happiness of my fellow men, and in attempting to realise it, have wrecked my own.”

”My kind friend!” replied Delme, ”your error, if it be such, has been of the head, and not the heart. It is one, natural to your age and your country. Far from being irreparable, it is possible it may have taught you a lesson, that may ultimately greatly benefit you. This is the first time we have conversed regarding your prospects. What are your present views?”

”I have none. My friends regard me as one, who has improvidently thrown away his chance of advancement. My knowledge of any _one_ branch of science is so superficial, that this precludes my ever hoping to succeed in a learned profession. I cannot enter the military service in my own country, without commencing in the lowest grade. This I can hardly bring my mind to.”

”What would you say to the Hanoverian army?” replied Delme.

”I would say,” rejoined Carl: ”for I see through your kind motive in asking, that I esteem myself fortunate, if I have been in any way useful to you; but that I cannot, and ought not, to think, of accepting a favour at your hands.”

Sir Henry said no more at that time: and they reached the inn in silence.

Delme retired for the night. Carl Obers sought his old chums; and, exhilarated by his meershaum, and the excellent beer--rivalling the famous Lubeck beer, sent to Martin Luther, during his trial, by the Elector of Saxony--triumphantly placed ”young Germany” at the head of nations.

Early the following morning, they were again en route.

They pa.s.sed through Manheim, where the Rhine and Neckar meet,--through Erpach,--through Darmstadt, that cleanest of Continental towns,--and finally reached Frankfort-on-the-Maine, where it was agreed that Sir Henry and Thompson were to part from their travelling companions.

Sir Henry in his distress of mind, felt that theirs was not a casual farewell. On reaching the quay, he pressed the student's hand with grateful warmth, but dared not trust to words.

On the deck of the steamer, a.s.sisting Thompson to arrange the portmanteaux, stood Pietro Molini.

The natural gaiety of the old driver had received a considerable check at George's death.

He could not now meet Sir Henry, without an embarra.s.sment of manner; and even in his intercourse with Thompson, his former jocularity seemed to have deserted him.

”Good bye, Pietro!” said Delme, extending his hand. ”I trust we may one day or other meet again.”

The vetturino grasped it,--his colour went and came,--he looked down at his whip,--then felt in his vest for his pipe, As he saw Delme turn towards the p.o.o.p, and as Thompson warned him it was time to leave the vessel,--his feelings fairly gave way.

He threw his arms round the Englishman's neck and blubbered like a child.

We have elsewhere detailed the luckless end of the vetturino.

As for Carl Obers, that zealous patriot; the last we heard of him, was that he was holding a commission in the Hanoverian Jagers, obtained for him by Sir Henry's intervention. He was at that period, in high favour with that liberal monarch, King Ernest.

Chapter XIII.

Home.

”'Tis sweet to hear the watchdog's honest bark Bay deep-mouth'd welcome as we draw near home, 'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark Our coming, and look brighter when we come.”

Embarking on its tributary stream, Delme reached the Rhine--pa.s.sed through the land of snug Treckschut, and wooden-shoed housemaid--and arrived at Rotterdam, whence he purposed sailing for England.