Part 21 (1/2)
”You look as if you had no troubles, Eva, my love.”
”You call me your love! I am an ignorant woman, but I will be true to you. I will be true to you if I should die for it. Herr Mack grows harsher and harsher every day, but I do not mind it; he is furious, but I do not answer him. He took hold of my arm and went grey with fury.
One thing troubles me.”
”And what is it that troubles you?” ”Herr Mack threatens you. He says to me: 'Aha, it's that lieutenant you've got in your head all the time!' I answer: 'Yes, I am his.' Then he says: 'Ah, you wait. I'll soon get rid of him.' He said that yesterday.”
”It doesn't matter; let him threaten...” And with closed eyes she throws her arms about my neck. A quiver pa.s.ses through her. The horse stands waiting.
XXVIII
I sit up in the hills, mining. The autumn air is crystal about me. The strokes of my drill ring steady and even. aesop looks at me with wondering eyes. Wave after wave of content swells through my breast. No one knows that I am here among the lonely hills.
The birds of pa.s.sage have gone; a happy journey and welcome back again!
t.i.tmouse and blackcap and a hedge-sparrow or so live now alone in the bush and undergrowth: tuitui! All is so curiously changed--the dwarf birch bleeds redly against the grey stones, a harebell here and there shows among the heather, swaying and whispering a little song: s.h.!.+ But high above all hovers an eagle with outstretched neck, on his way to the inland ridges.
And the evening comes; I lay my drill and my hammer in under the rock and stop to rest. All things are glooming now. The moon glides up in the north; the rocks cast gigantic shadows. The moon is full; it looks like a glowing island, like a round riddle of bra.s.s that I pa.s.s by and wonder at. aesop gets up and is restless.
”What is it, aesop? As for me, I am tired of my sorrow; I will forget it, drown it. Lie still, aesop, I tell you; I will not be pestered. Eva asks: 'Do you think of me sometimes?' I answer: 'Always.' Eva asks again: 'And is it any joy to you, to think of me?' I answer: 'Always a joy, never anything but a joy.' Then says Eva: 'Your hair is turning grey.' I answer: 'Yes, it is beginning to turn grey.' But Eva says: 'Is it something you think about, that is turning it grey?' And to that I answer: 'Maybe.' At last Eva says: 'Then you do not think only of me...'
aesop, lie still; I will tell you about something else instead...”
But aesop stands sniffing excitedly down towards the valley, pointing, and dragging at my clothes. When at last I get up and follow, he cannot get along fast enough. A flush of red shows in the sky above the woods.
I go on faster; and there before my eyes is a glow, a huge fire. I stop and stare at it, go on a few steps and stare again.
My hut is ablaze.
XXIX
The fire was Herr Mack's doing. I saw through it from the first. I lost my skins and my birds' wings, I lost my stuffed eagle; everything was destroyed. What now? I lay out for two nights under the open sky, without going to Sirilund to ask for shelter. At last I rented a deserted fisher-hut by the quay. I stopped the cracks with dried moss, and slept on a load of red horseberry ling from the hills. Once more my needs were filled.
Edwarda sent me a message to say she had heard of my misfortune and that she offered me, on her father's behalf, a room at Sirilund. Edwarda touched! Edwarda generous! I sent no answer. Thank Heaven, I was no longer without shelter, and it gave me a proud joy to make no answer to Edwarda's offer. I met her on the road, with the Baron; they were walking arm in arm. I looked them both in the face and bowed as I pa.s.sed. She stopped, and asked:
”So you will not come and stay with us, Lieutenant?”
”I am already settled in my new place,” I said, and stopped also.
She looked at me; her bosom was heaving. ”You would have lost nothing by coming to us,” she said.
Thankfulness moved in my heart, but I could not speak.
The Baron walked on slowly.
”Perhaps you do not want to see me any more,” she said.