Part 67 (1/2)
”No,” cried Eliza, vehemently, blus.h.i.+ng deeply, ”I do not love him.
I have buried my love in my heart, and it reposes there as in a shrine. It is true I think of it very often, I pray to it, but I have no unholy thoughts and feel no sinful desires. I am glad that my Elza is so happy; yes, I am glad of it and thank G.o.d for it. But how can I be merry and laugh, mother, so long as my dear, dear father has not returned to us? He must hide like a criminal; they are chasing him like a wild beast; he is always in danger, and we must constantly tremble for his safety. And I cannot do any thing for him, I cannot share his dangers, I cannot be with him in the dreadful solitude on the Alp above. I must look on in idleness, and cannot be useful to any one, neither to my father, nor to my brothers, nor to you, dear mother. I cannot help my father and brothers, and cannot comfort you, mother; for I myself am in despair, and would--what was that, mother? Did not some one knock at the window-shutter?”
”Hush, hus.h.!.+” whispered her mother; ”let us listen.”
They listened with bated breath. Eliza had not been mistaken; some one knocked a second time at the window-shutter, and the voice of a man whispered, ”Mrs. Wallner, are you in the room? Open the door to me!”
”It must be a good friend of ours, for the dogs do not bark,” said Eliza; ”we will let him come in.”
She took the lamp and went out courageously to draw the bolt from the street-door and open it.
Yes, she had not been mistaken, it was really a good friend of theirs; the man who entered the house was one of the few friends who had not denied Anthony Wallner, and who had not turned their backs upon his family since it was outlawed and in distress.
”You bring us bad news, Peter Siebermeier?” asked Eliza, anxiously, gazing into the mountaineer's pale and dismayed face.
”Unfortunately I do,” sighed Siebermeier, stepping hastily into the sitting-room and shaking hands with Eliza's mother. ”Mrs. Wallner,”
he said, in breathless hurry, ”your husband is in the greatest danger, and only speedy flight can save him.”
Mrs. Wallner uttered a piercing cry, sank back into her chair, wrung her hands, and wept aloud. Eliza did not weep; she was calm and courageous. ”Tell me, Siebermeier, what can we do for father? What danger threatens him?”
”A bad man. I believe, the clerk of the court, has informed the French that Anthony Wallner is still on one of the heights in this neighborhood. General Broussier intends to have him arrested. A whole battalion of soldiers will march to-morrow morning to the mountain of Ober-Peischlag and occupy it.”
”Great G.o.d! my husband is lost, then!” cried Eliza's mother, despairing; ”nothing can save him now.”
”Hush, mother, hus.h.!.+” said Eliza, almost imperatively; ”we must not weep now, we must think only of saving him. Tell me, friend Siebermeier, is there no way of saving him?”
”There is one,” said Siebermeier, ”but how shall we get up to him? A friend of mine, who is acquainted with the members of the court, informed me quite stealthily that, if Aichberger could be saved yet, it should be done this very night. Now listen to the plan I have devised. I intended to set out to-morrow morning to peddle carpets and blankets, for money is very scarce in these hard times. I procured, therefore, a pa.s.sport for myself and my boy, who is to carry my bundle. Here is the pa.s.sport--and look! the description corresponds nearly to Wallner's appearance. He is of my stature and age, has hair and whiskers like mine, and might be pa.s.sed off for myself. I am quite willing to let him have my pa.s.sport, and conceal myself meanwhile at home and feign sickness. The pa.s.sport would enable him to escape safely; of course he would have to journey through the Alps, for every one knows him in the plain. However, the pa.s.sport cannot do him any good, for there is no one to take it up to him. I would do so, but the wound which I received in our last skirmish with the Bavarians, in my side here, prevents me from ascending the mountain-paths; and, even though I could go up to him, it would be useless, for we two could not travel together, the pa.s.sport being issued to two persons, Siebermeier, the carpet- dealer, and the boy carrying his bundle. The boy is not described in the pa.s.sport; therefore, I thought, if one of your sons were in the neighborhood, he might go up to his father, warn him of his danger, and accompany him on his trip through the mountains.”
”But neither of the boys is here,” said Mrs. Wallner, despairingly; ”Schroepfel took them to the Alpine but near Upper Lindeau, and is with them. We two are all alone, and there is, therefore, no way of saving my dear husband.”
”Yes, mother, there is,” cried Eliza, flushed with excitement. ”I will go up to father. I will warn him of his danger, carry him the pa.s.sport, and flee with him.”
”You!” cried her mother, in dismay. ”It is impossible! You cannot ascend the road, which is almost impa.s.sable even for men. How should a girl, then, be able to get over it, particularly in the night, and in so heavy a snow-storm?”
”You will be unable to reach your father, Lizzie,” said Siebermeier; ”the road is precipitous and very long; you will sink into the snow; your shoes will stick in it, and the storm will catch your dress.”
”No road is too precipitous for me if I can save my father,”
exclaimed Eliza, enthusiastically. ”I must reach him, and G.o.d will enable me to do so. Wait here a moment, I will be back immediately.
I will prepare myself for the trip, and then give me the pa.s.sport.”
”She will lose her life in the attempt,” said Mrs. Wallner, mournfully, after she had hastened out of the room. ”Alas! alas! I shall lose my husband, my sons, and my daughter too! And all has been in vain, for the Tyrol is ruined, and we have to suffer these dreadful misfortunes without having accomplished anything!”
”And the enemy acts with merciless cruelty in the country,” said Siebermeier, furiously; ”he sets whole villages on fire if he thinks that one of the fugitives is concealed here; he imposes on the people heavy war-taxes, which we are unable to pay; and if we say we have no money, he takes our cattle and other property from us. Wails and lamentations are to be heard throughout the valley; that is all we have gained by our b.l.o.o.d.y struggle!”
At this moment the door opened, and Eliza came in, not however in her own dress, but in the costume of a Tyrolese peasant-lad.
”Heavens! she has put on her brother William's Sunday clothes,”