Part 168 (2/2)

”Hansei!”

He answered again from above.

Hansei drew near, and when he saw the grand gentlemen, the ladies on horseback, and the liveried servants, he took off his hat and pa.s.sed his hand over his eyes, as if to satisfy himself that he saw aright.

”How is it with her?” asked Walpurga.

”She's still alive, but she won't last long. I left about an hour ago, and who knows what may have happened since then? The doctor's with her, though.”

”We can't ride any farther,” said the inspector. The queen and Paula alighted. Sixtus and the servants followed, while they climbed the last hill.

”That's the queen there, in the light silk shawl,” said Walpurga, addressing Hansei with a significant gesture.

”It's all the same to me,” he answered. ”Our Irmgard's better than any of them. What matters the queen? When death comes we're pretty much the same all around. We'll all of us have to die one of these days, and then it won't matter what we've been in these few years.”

Bestowing a hurried glance on Hansei, and beckoning Paula to remain behind, the queen hastened forward. She was unattended, but yet, at her right and her left, before and behind her, were the spirits of fear and of deliverance. Fear cried: ”Irma is dead; you are too late--” and it seemed as if this would arrest her steps and deprive her of her breath.

Deliverance cried: ”Hurry on--why loiter? You are free, you bring freedom with you, and shall gain freedom for yourself.”

She put forth her hands, as if to wave off the powers that were contending within and about her.

Fear gained the mastery and, with a wailing shriek for help, she cried out:

”Irma! Irma!” and ”Irma, Irma,” was echoed again and again from the mountains. The whole world was shouting Irma's name.

Irma was still lying within the room, and Gunther was sitting at her bedside. Her breathing was difficult. She scarcely ever turned her head, and only now and then slightly opened her eyes.

Gunther had taken Eberhard's note-book with him, and found an opportunity to read these words of his to Irma: ”May this serve to enlighten me on the day and in the hour when my mind becomes obscured.”

When he read the words: ”G.o.d yet dwells in that which, to us, seems lost and ruined,” Irma raised herself, but she soon leaned back again and beckoned him to proceed. He read: ”And should my eye be dimmed in death--I have beheld the eternal One--My eyes have penetrated eternity.

Free from distortion and self-destruction, the immortal spirit soars aloft.”

Gunther stopped and laid the note-book on Irma's bed. She rested her hand upon it. After a while she raised her hand and, pressing it to her brow, said, while she closed her eyes:

”And yet he chastised me!”

”Whatever he may have done to you, was not done with his free, pure will. A paroxysm, a relapse into mortality, affected it. In the spirit of your father, and as surely as I hope that truth may dwell with me in my own dying hour, I forgive you. You have achieved your own pardon.

Forgive him, as he has surely forgiven you. He would bless you now, as I bless you. Remember him lovingly, for the sake of the love he bore you.”

Irma seized the hand which Gunther had laid upon her brow, and kissed it. Then, without turning around, and as if speaking to herself, she said: ”Stay with me,” again and again.

For hours, Gunther sat by her bedside. Not a sound was heard but her painful breathing, which was gradually becoming more and more difficult.

And now, when the mountains echoed her name again and again, Irma raised her head and looked to right and left. ”Do you hear it, too?”

she asked. ”My name--voices, voices everywhere! Voices--” The door opened, and the queen entered the room.

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