Part 10 (1/2)

Meanwhile, Hansen had not been able to repress his ridiculing remarks.

”It is enough to turn an honest soldier's heart around in his body to listen to such stuff,” he said. ”Guns! As if we would carry anything else! The man must be a fool.”

Alexander divided his men into squads, to occupy the apartments where they were to be accommodated with pallets of straw.

One of the married brothers now came up and addressed the captain.

”Herr Officer,” he said modestly, ”I have room in my house for a few men. Will you allow me to accommodate four or six? I promise to give them the very best that my poor house affords.”

”With many thanks, kind sir,” was the reply. ”Please select from among them those you would like to have; the poor drenched creatures will be only too glad of your hospitality.”

The man chose the first six which came to hand, and carried them off with him. The ice being thus broken, one brother after another offered to take in some of them, and pretty soon everything was satisfactorily arranged. Another Brother begged to have the officers for his guests, and with hearty hospitality withdrew to prepare the best of everything the simple larder afforded for the entertainment of the strangers.

Clean white linen was spread over the table and refreshments of every kind were brought out. Pretty soon the provision-wagon arrived. Meat and vegetables were unpacked, and preparations were made to prepare the evening meal. The pioneers commenced to take up the paving-stones in the yard, in order to make a deep hollow in which to light the fire; but Brother Martin rushed out perfectly horrified.

”Herr Captain, you surely will not allow your good people to kindle a fire here in the yard? I beg that you will forbid it; there is no knowing what mischief might result from it; and besides, it will ruin the yard.”

”But where, then, can the men cook their supper if it is too dangerous here?” asked Alexander, somewhat impatiently. ”The men are wet and hungry, and have had no regular meal to-day; they must be permitted to prepare something warm to eat.”

”Oh, of course,” said Martin, with compa.s.sion. ”We will not let them suffer, and I will gladly allow you the use of a large kitchen, where all the cooking for the Brothers is done every day.”

The proposition was received with many thanks. Every convenience which the house afforded was offered for the comfort of the men.

”Trautenau,” said Hansen, rubbing his hands with satisfaction, ”things seem very good about here; and if they don't try to convert us, in addition, it will be the best place we have found quarters in for a long time. The sneaks have even a gla.s.s of choice wine in their cellar, and we will forgive Brother Martin's horror of our weapons in hopes that he will give us a taste of it. I thought they drank only water, and would be very much scandalized to hear of wine being anywhere about their premises.”

”Hush your mocking, Hansen, else I will not answer for your being allowed to remain in this paradise. I hope you will not disgrace me while I go to seek my sister, before it is too late. You know we march early in the morning.”

Carmen and her father had been too deeply absorbed in their sorrows to observe what was transpiring in the settlement. The outer world had vanished completely from their minds. Concluding finally to leave everything undecided until after the interview between the old man and Jonathan, Carmen turned her steps homeward, for it was after eight o'clock. After ascending the steps, she remained standing under the arched portico in front of the house, trying to forget herself, her father, everything. She felt as if her own conscience was in some way guilty; and then, too, what was to become of her now? His crime, and her duty as a daughter, urged her imperatively into the arms of this man whom she thoroughly despised. There seemed no way of escape. The idea flashed across her brain to renounce her ident.i.ty with the Moravians; but that would be synonymous with total separation from her father, for in his present frame of mind, when he was continually dwelling on repentance and reparation, he would never tear himself away from his old faith. Leave her father? Never! One thought tempted her--the thought of Wollmershain and Frau von Trautenau; but she put it resolutely from her: she could not, she dared not; she had no claim on any one there, and here she belonged to her father.

Ah, how her poor bleeding heart ached! If she could only weep, perhaps it would help to lighten the weary burden which was crus.h.i.+ng her to the earth; but no relieving tears would come to her burning eyes. At last she sat down on a ledge of the wall near the doorway, to rest in solitude a little while, and to try to compose herself before going into the house. It had now ceased raining, and a dimly-burning lantern which was hung near by dispelled the darkness in a measure, and threw its uncertain rays over the wet stones of the yard, and over Carmen's drooping figure. The streets were perfectly quiet, the water dripped monotonously from the roofs, now and then the footsteps of some solitary pa.s.ser-by echoed faintly on the ear, followed by the deep silence, broken only by the falling drops. There was something soothing in this great hush of nature; and the gentle dripping seemed like a loving voice singing some tired child to sleep; Carmen felt as if drawn within a magic circle. For a long time she sat there, till at last she heard a step approaching from the distance, and a man made his appearance in the light of the lantern. Something sparkled and glittered on his coat; and as he strode along with quick, firm steps, the spurs on his boots clanked. Carmen saw and heard it all as if in her sleep. Still motionless, she sat staring out into the darkness, and her heart, her poor heart, seemed dead and cold. There! did not the stranger enter the portico? He certainly did; and, as his figure became more distinctly discernible in the uncertain light, her pulses began to throb violently--those pulses which she a moment ago believed would never again beat with lively emotion. She leaned back closer to the wall, and stared at the figure with wide-opened eyes. As the man ascended the steps and saw the shrinking form close against the wall, he started, hesitated a moment, and then, putting his hand to his cap in greeting, said joyfully: ”Fraulein Carmen, can it really be you? I have come, although it is so late, to greet you, and make the acquaintance of your father, as I am here only for to-night, and leave early in the morning. Adele told me I would find you here, in the house with the portico.” He spoke with a glad tone and put out his hand, for at Wollmershain they had parted with a hearty hand-shake, and now he ventured on the same privilege.

The girl laid her hand in his; it was so cold and clammy it chilled him; and Carmen, as she leaned her head back against the stone wall, had such a tired, weary, wretched look that he could not refrain from asking with an anxious air: ”For Heaven's sake! Surely some misfortune has happened to you! Carmen, dear Fraulein Carmen, I implore you, tell me just one word, that I may know what is the matter, and help you if I can.”

She had risen slowly and with difficulty, for her knees trembled, and she could scarcely stand. He kept her hand in his as if to a.s.sist her, and pressed it with gentle warmth. At the sound of his sympathizing voice, the heavy pressure on her tortured heart suddenly gave way, and agonized sobs burst from her lips, while a flood of scalding tears flowed from her eyes. Her slender frame shook with the violence of her emotion; and as he sought to support her with his arm, her head sank on his shoulder.

”Dear Carmen,” he pleaded, ”do not keep back from me the cause of this distress! You cannot know how I am racked with grief for you. What shall I say to convince you of my feelings? It troubles me sorely, oh, believe me, to find you in such sorrow.”

His words seemed to increase the intensity of her grief; and yet how those blinding tears relieved her! What an angel of light he seemed--he, of whom she had once thought so differently! She did not repulse him now when his arm encircled her; but leaning on him confidingly, she somehow felt that he who held her was a true man; that he alone was able to help and comfort her, and that it was a precious privilege to have him near in this hour of need. She could not turn to her father for succor; that one great hope had melted away; but in this man she knew there was courage, as well as will and the power to a.s.sist her in her woe. As he poured question after question upon her, she attempted at last to speak.

”They have cast lots for me to-day,” she stammered. ”I am forced to be the wife of a man I despise--by lot, Herr Trautenau!”

”By lot?” he asked, flus.h.i.+ng angrily. ”You, our beautiful, proud Carmen, given away by lot? That is incredible! Your father will surely not permit it!”

”My poor father!” she cried. ”He can take no step to prevent it; he cannot save me.”

”But!--by heavens, I will not allow such a horrible thing!” he cried pa.s.sionately, and drew her closer to him. ”Carmen, I conjure you, I beseech you, not to submit to this shameful custom of your people!”

”No; I would rather die than do it!” she replied, as something of her old courage returned to her. Now that he stood by her, she felt that some escape might be possible. She dried her tears, and raised her pretty head, which had rested so wearily on his shoulder, endeavoring to free herself from a position which, now that she was calm enough to think, had become embarra.s.sing to her. As she did so, she gave a terrified start, for, unheard by either of them, Brother Jonathan with his cat-like step had drawn near, and she now caught a glimpse of his hated countenance, distorted with scorn and anger.

”Rather die than be my wife?” he asked mockingly, as he approached nearer. ”A pleasant answer, surely, for me to listen to! This is, then, the modest, prudish Sister whom I must not presume to touch! She refuses me, an honest man who loves her, and declines to follow the rules of her faith, only to throw herself into the arms of a strange interloper! Do you think we will have a Sister among us who bids defiance to all the meek love and submission, the decorum and modesty which is necessary for a member of our community? I, as superintendent of the Sisters, will now suggest to the Sister in charge that Carmen Mauer be expelled from our communion.”