Part 26 (1/2)
”Is there any news from Tubingen? Has Maxx Stumpf returned? I read bad news in your countenance.”
”No, sir, he has not yet returned,” she replied; ”my father expected him this very night.”
”Oh, that the devil would give him heels! I must remain here till he comes, if it be for a whole day. Ha! a cold night, lady,” said the exile; ”the screech owls will be frozen in the cavern, for I left them crying in most pitiable tones.”
”Yes, it is indeed cold,” she answered; ”I would not go down there, upon any account; and how dreadful must it be to hear those cries; I shudder to think of it.”
”If young Albert accompanied you, you would have no objections to go,”
answered the other smiling, and chucking the blus.h.i.+ng girl under the chin; ”is it not so? You would not hesitate to follow him there, much as you appear to dread it now.”
”Ah! sir,” she replied, ”how can you talk in that way? Do you know, I'll not come down again to let you in if you take such liberties.”
”Well, but I merely spoke in jest,” said the knight, and gently pinched her glowing cheek; ”you know how little opportunity I have in my dwelling to enjoy a joke. What will you give me to say a good word to your father, to induce him to make the youth your husband? You are aware the old gentleman does every thing I ask him; and if I recommend a son-in-law to him, he would accept him at all hazards.”
Bertha opened wide her beautiful eyes, and cast a grateful look at him.
”Dear sir,” she answered, ”I will not forbid your saying a kind word for Albert, particularly as my father is well inclined towards him.”
”But I shall expect some reward for my trouble. Everything has its price; so what will you give?”
Bertha cast her eyes to the ground. ”A heartfelt thank-ye,” she replied; ”but come, sir, my father has been waiting for us a long time.”
She was in the act of leading on, when the knight, taking her by the hand, detained her. Albert's heart beat so hard as almost to be heard; he broke out into a violent heat, and then became ice-cold; he laid hold of the handle of the door, and was on the point of sallying forth to forbid the promise of a fixed price being given upon any pretext.
”Why are you in such haste?” he heard the man of the cavern say. ”Well, for one kiss only, and I will persuade your father to send for the priest on the spot, to perform the holy ceremony.” He bent his head towards the offended, blus.h.i.+ng girl. Albert saw every thing swimming before his eyes, and was again on the point of bursting from his place of concealment, but the determined reply of his lady love checked him from taking the rash step. She beheld the man with a forbidding look.
”It is impossible your Grace can be in earnest,” she said; ”otherwise you now see me for the last time.”
”If you knew how much this scornful air becomes you,” he answered, with unaltered kindness, ”you would never cease to be in anger. At any rate I admire your fidelity; for when the heart is deeply engaged with one object, none other need hope for such a favour. But on your marriage day I will demand the favour, with the permission of your bridegroom, and then we'll see who is right.”
”That you may do,” said Bertha, smiling, whilst she withdrew her hand from his, and led the way with the light in her hand; ”but you had better prepare yourself for a refusal, for he is not fond of trifling on this point.”
”He is uncommonly jealous,” replied the knight, as they proceeded up stairs. ”I could tell you something upon that subject, which took place between him and me; but I promised silence----”
The sound of their voices died away gradually, and at last became indistinct to Albert's ear. He breathed freely again. He listened and remained in his position until he satisfied himself thoroughly that no one was on the stairs or in the pa.s.sages, and, taking advantage of the opportunity, slipped up into his own room much quicker than he had descended from it. The last words of Bertha and the exile still resounded in his ears. He blushed to think of his unfounded jealousy, which had again tormented him this night. Bertha had, unknown to herself, given him evident proofs of the purity of her heart and faithful attachment to him; and it was only when he laid his head on his pillow and fell to sleep, that his mind was eased of the pain of having unjustly suspected her.
When he left his room the next morning at seven o'clock, the hour which the family generally a.s.sembled at breakfast, Bertha met him on the landing place with the appearance of having been weeping. She took him on one side, and whispered, ”Tread softly, Albert; the knight of the cavern is still with us; he has been asleep about an hour; we must not disturb him.”
”The exile!” asked Albert in astonishment, ”does he dare remain here during the day? what has happened? is he unwell?”
”No!” answered Bertha, whilst a fresh tear hung on her eyelid, ”no! he expects a messenger from Tubingen about this time, and is determined to await him. We begged and prayed him to depart before daybreak, but he would not listen to our warning, so firm is his resolution to remain at all hazards.”
”But could not the messenger have gone to him in the cavern?” said Albert; ”he runs too great a risk unnecessarily.”
”Ah! you don't know him; it is his bane when he once gets a thing into his head to be obstinately immoveable; and then he is so distrustful of others, even of his best friends. It was quite impossible for us to persuade him to leave the castle this morning, because he might have thought, perhaps, we wished to get rid of him for our own safety. His princ.i.p.al reason for remaining is, I believe, to consult with my father, when the messenger arrives.”
During this conversation they remained stationary on the landing place, but Bertha now opened the door of her father's apartment as gently as possible, and they entered together.
This room, or what would be called in a modern establishment the gentlemen's room, was distinguished from the saloon on the second floor from being somewhat smaller. It had a view of the surrounding country on three sides, through small round windows, now pierced by the sun's morning rays. The ceiling and walls were wainscoted with dark brown wood, fancifully inlaid with other coloured woods. A few portraits of the ancestors of Lichtenstein graced the side of the wall opposite to the windows, and the tables and furniture shewed that the present occupier of the castle was a friend of old customs and times, and that his property would descend to his daughter in the same unaltered state it had been left by his great-grandfather.
The old knight was seated at a large table in the middle of the room when they entered. Supporting his long-bearded chin in his hand, he sat gloomy and motionless, with his eyes fixed on a large goblet which stood before him. It was not quite evident to Albert whether he had been sitting up all night over his gla.s.s, or whether he was taking a draught at this early hour of the morning to recruit his strength and spirits.