Part 25 (2/2)
”I am not afraid of anything,” she said, ”I can look at happiness, as I can look at the sun; and I shall be able to look into the darkness also.”
”But suppose the darkness lasts too long?”
”It cannot last for ever,” rejoined Cosel.
”Who can tell?” whispered Mlawa. ”Let me see your hand!” she added, stretching forth her own.
The Countess retreated a few paces, feeling rather afraid, for in those days every one believed in witchcraft.
”Don't be afraid, my beauty,” said Mlawa calmly. ”I shall not soil your white fingers, I shall only look at them.”
Cosel drew off her glove, and exhibited to the old woman, a beautiful white hand, glittering with rings.
”What a beautiful hand! Worthy to be kissed by kings; but, my child, there are dreadful signs in it. That hand often touched the face that looked on her boldly. Am I right?”
Cosel blushed; Mlawa was thoughtful.
”What are you going to tell me?” whispered Cosel uneasily.
”You are going on towards your destiny. Who has ever avoided his fate?
Who has ever seen its precipices? After long happiness, there awaits you a still longer, oh, far longer season of penitence, a rigorous captivity, sleepless nights, unaccustomed tears. Having children, you will be childless; with a husband, you will be a widow, you will be an imprisoned Queen; you will be free, but you will throw away your freedom--you will be--oh! don't ask me--”
Cosel was as white as marble, but still she tried to smile.
”What have I done to you,” she asked, ”that you wish to terrify me?”
”I pity you!” said Mlawa. ”Why did you wish to look into my soul?
Wormwood grows there! Bitterness flows through my words. I pity you!”
The old woman's head drooped.
”You are not the only one! Thousands have suffered in this world, and have died, and their ashes are scattered by the winds. Like you, thousands are moaning in slavery--my forefathers, grandfather, father, kings. I am the last of their race. The German has driven me from my home.”
Cosel drew a gold coin from her purse, and handed it to the old woman.
”I don't take alms,” said she; ”you will pay differently; everything is reckoned above.”
And raising her hands, she walked into the meadows.
During this conversation, Cosel's companions had been standing at a little distance, admiring her courage. Now none dared ask why she looked so pale and thoughtful. She mounted her horse, but she dropped the rein and allowed the animal to guide her.
They continued to ride forward, but slowly. Then from afar high towers appeared in sight.
”That is Stolpen,” said the equerry.
An hour's more riding and they reached the castle. The King's cavalcade was standing opposite the rock of basalt, waiting for the Countess, whom they had seen while she was still at a distance.
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