Part 46 (1/2)
Besides, this little bedroom concealed a mystery--a mystery which would have excited the merriment of Fredersdorf and the wild amazement of Eckhof. On the bed lay a vestment which seemed utterly unsuited to the toilet of a young man; it was indeed a woman's dress, a glistening white satin, such as young, fair brides wear on their wedding-day. There, upon the table lay small white, satin shoes, perfumed, embroidered pocket-handkerchiefs, ribbons, and flowers. What did this signify? what meant this feminine boudoir, next to the study of a young man? Was the beloved whom he wished to adorn with this bridal attire concealed there? or, was this only a costume in which he would play his first role as an actor?
Lupinus gazed upon all these costly things with a glad and happy heart, and as he raised the satin robe and danced smilingly to the great mirror, nothing of the grave, earnest, dignified scholar was to be seen in his mien; suddenly he paused, and stood breathlessly listening. It seemed to him some one knocked lightly on the outer door, then again louder.
”That is Eckhof,” whispered Lupinus. He left the mysterious little room, hastily closed the door, and placed the key in his bosom, then opened the outer door.
Yes, it was Eckhof. He entered with a beaming face, with a gay and happy smile. Lupinus had never seen him so joyous. He clasped his young friend so ardently in his arms, that he could scarcely breathe; he pressed so glowing a kiss upon his cheek, that Lupinus trembled, and was overcome by his own emotion.
”See, Lupinus, how much I love you!” said Eckhof. ”I come first to you, that you may sympathize with me in my great joy. Almost oppressed by the sense of heavenly bliss, which seemed in starry splendor to overshadow me, I thought, 'I must go to Lupinus; he alone will understand me.' I am here to say to you, 'Rejoice with me, for I am happy.' I ran like a madman through the streets. Oh!
friend, you have not seen my sorrow; I have concealed the anguish of my soul. I loved you boundlessly, and I would not fill your young, pure soul with sadness. But you dared look upon my rapture; you, my most faithful, best-beloved friend, shall share my joy.”
”Tell me, then, at once, what makes you happy?” said Lupinus, with trembling lips, and with the pallor of death from excitement and apprehension.
”And you ask, my innocent and modest child,” said Eckhof, laughing.
”You do not yet know that love alone makes a man wretched or infinitely happy. I was despairing because I did not know if I was beloved, and this uncertainty made a madman of me.”
”And now?” said Lupinus.
”And now I am supremely happy--she loves me; she has confessed it this day. Oh! my friend, I almost tore this sweet, this heavenly secret from her heart. I threatened her, I almost cursed her. I lay at her feet, uttering wild words of rebuke and bitter reproach. I was mad with pa.s.sion; resolved to slay myself, if she did not then and there disclose to me either her love or her contempt. I dared all, to win all. She stood pallid and trembling before me, and, as I railed at her, she extended her arms humbly and pleadingly toward me. Oh! she was fair and beautiful as a pardoning angel, with these glistening tears in her wondrous, dreamy eyes, fair and beautiful as a houri of Paradise; when at last, carried away by her own heart, she bowed down and confessed that she loved me; that she would be mine--mine, in spite of her distinguished birth, in spite of all the thousand obstacles which interposed. One wild day I exclaimed, 'Oh!
my G.o.d, my G.o.d! I am set apart to be an artiste; thou hast consecrated me by misfortune.' To-day, I feel that only when I am truly happy can I truly create. From this day alone will I truly be an artiste. I have now received the heavenly consecration of happiness.”
Eckhof looked down upon his young friend. When he gazed upon the fair and ashy countenance, the gla.s.sy eyes staring without expression in the distance, the blue lips convulsively pressed together, he became suddenly silent.
”Lupinus, you are ill! you suffer!” he said, opening his arms and trying to clasp his friend once more to his breast. But the touch of his hand made Lupinus tremble, and awakened him from his trance. One wild shriek rang from his bosom, a stream of tears gushed from his eyes, and he sank almost insensible to the floor.
”My friend, my beloved friend!” cried Eckhof, ”you suffer, and are silent. What is it that overpowers you? What is this great grief?
Why do you weep? Let me share and alleviate your sorrow.”
”No, no!” cried Lupinus, rising, ”I do not suffer; I have no pain, no cause of sorrow. Do not touch me; your lightest touch wounds! Go, go! leave me alone!””
”You love me not, then?” said Eckhof. ”You suffer, and will not confide in me? you weep bitterly, and command me to leave you?”
”And he thinks that I do not love him,” murmured Lupinus, with a weary smile. ”My G.o.d! whom, then, do I love?”
”If your friends.h.i.+p for me were true and genuine, you would trust me,” said Eckhof. ”I have made you share in my happiness, and I demand the holy right of sharing your grief.”
Lupinus did not reply. Eckhof lifted him gently in his arms, and laying him upon the sofa, took a seat near him.
He laid his arms around him, placed his head upon his bosom, and in a soft, melodious voice, whispered words of comfort, encouragement, and love. The young man trembled convulsively, and wept without restraint.
Suddenly he raised himself; the agony was over; his lips slightly trembled, but he pressed them together; his eyes were full of tears, but he shook his head proudly, and dashed them from him.
”It is past, all past! my dream has dispersed. I am awake once more!”
”And now, Lupinus, you will tell me all?”
”No, not now, but to-morrow. To-morrow you shall know all.
Therefore, go, my friend, and leave me alone. Go to her you love, gaze in her eyes, and see in them a starry heaven; then think of me, whose star is quenched, who is bowed down under a heavy load of affliction. Go! go! if you love me, go at once!”
”I love you, therefore I obey you, but my heart is heavy for you, and my own happiness is clouded. But I go; to-morrow you will tell me all?”