Part 6 (1/2)
When he reopened his eyes the Alpine maiden was gone, as was also the sheltering cottage. Water drove down the bare rocky wall, the snow lay all round him; Rudy s.h.i.+vered with cold, he was soaked to the skin, and his ring was gone, his engagement ring which Babette had given him.
His gun lay by him in the snow; he took it up and wished to discharge it, but it missed fire. Watery clouds lay like solid ma.s.ses of snow in the creva.s.se; Giddiness sat there and lured on her helpless prey, and under her there was a sound in the deep creva.s.se as if a huge rock were falling, crus.h.i.+ng and sweeping away everything that would stop it in its fall.
But in the mill Babette sat weeping. Rudy had not been near her for six days--he who was in the wrong, he who ought to ask her forgiveness, because she loved him with her whole heart.
CHAPTER XIII.
IN THE MILLER'S HOUSE.
”What horrid nonsense it is with these human beings!” said the parlor cat to the kitchen cat. ”Now it is broken off again with Babette and Rudy. She is crying, and he does not think any more of her.”
”I can't endure that,” said the kitchen cat.
”No more can I,” said the parlor cat, ”but I won't grieve over it!
Babette may now be the beloved of the red whiskers! but he has not been here since he wished to get on the roof.”
The powers of evil have their game, both without us and within us.
This Rudy had discovered and thought over. What was it that had taken place about him and in him on the top of the mountain? Was it a vision, or a feverish dream? Never before had he known fever or illness. He had made an examination of his own heart when he judged Babette. Could he confess to Babette the thoughts which a.s.sailed him in the hour of temptation? He had lost her ring, and it was exactly in that loss that she had regained him. Would she confess to him? It seemed as if his heart would burst asunder when he thought of her; there arose within him so many memories; he seemed really to see her, laughing like a merry child. Many an affectionate word she had spoken in the abundance of her heart came like a gleam of suns.h.i.+ne into his breast, and soon it was all suns.h.i.+ne therein for Babette.
She might be able to confess to him, and she ought to do so.
He went to the mill, and confessed, beginning with a kiss, and ending in the admission that he was the offender. It was a great offense in him that he could distrust Babette's fidelity; it was almost unpardonable! Such distrust, such impetuosity might bring them both to grief. Yes, indeed! and therefore Babette lectured him, and she was pleased with herself, and it suited her so well. But in one thing Rudy was right--G.o.dmother's relation was a chatterbox! She wished to burn the book which he had given her, and not have the least thing in her possession that could remind her of him.
”Now that's all over!” said the parlor cat. ”Rudy is here again, they understand each other, and that is the greatest good fortune, they say.”
”I heard in the night,” said the kitchen cat, ”the rats say the greatest good fortune is to eat tallow-candles and to have quite enough rancid bacon. Now, which shall I believe--rats, or a pair of lovers?”
”Neither of them!” said the parlor cat. ”That is always safest.”
The greatest good fortune for Rudy and Babette was close at hand; the wedding day--the most beautiful day, as they called it.
But the marriage was not to take place at the church at Bex, or in the miller's house; the G.o.dmother wished the wedding to be held at her house, and that they should be married in the pretty little church at Montreux. The miller stuck to it that this request should be complied with; he alone was aware what the G.o.dmother intended to give the bride for a wedding present, and considered they ought to make so slight a concession. The day was fixed. On the previous evening they were to journey to Villeneuve, and to proceed in the early morning to Montreux by boat, that the G.o.dmother's daughters might deck the bride.
”There will be a feast here the day after the wedding,” said the parlor cat. ”Otherwise I would not give one mew for the lot.”
”There _will_ be a feast!” said the kitchen cat; ”ducks and pigeons are killed, and a whole deer hangs on the wall. It makes my mouth water to look at it! In the morning they start on their journey.”
Yes, in the morning! This evening Rudy and Babette sat together, as betrothed, for the last time at the mill.
Out of doors was the Alpine glow, the evening bells chimed, the daughters of the sunbeams sang: ”May the best thing happen!”
CHAPTER XIV.
VISIONS IN THE NIGHT.