Part 24 (1/2)

The officers laughed. ”Well,” said the major, ”Colonel Feodor can stop her mouth now with kisses.” In the mean while, Lieutenant Matusch threw the Cossacks a few copper coins, and drove them out of the room, with scornful words of abuse.

”And now let us see what we have won,” cried the officers, rus.h.i.+ng to the litter. They were in the act of raising the cloth which concealed the figure, but Feodor stepped forward with determined countenance and flas.h.i.+ng eyes.

”Let no one dare to raise this veil,” said he haughtily. His comrades rushed, with easily aroused anger, on him, and attempted again to approach the veiled woman. ”Be on your guard!” cried Feodor, and, drawing his sword from its scabbard, he placed himself before the litter, ready for the combat. The officers drew back. The determined, defiant countenance of the young warrior, his raised and ready sword, made them hesitate and yield.

”Feodor is right,” said the major, after a pause; ”he has fairly won the woman, and it is his business now to settle about the ransom.”

The others cast their eyes down, perhaps ashamed of their own rudeness. ”He is right, she belongs to him,” murmured they, as they drew back and approached the door.

”Go, my friends, go,” said Feodor. ”I promise you that I will settle with her about her ransom, and give up beforehand all claim to my share!”

The countenances of the Russian officers brightened up. They nodded and smiled toward him as they left the room. Count Feodor von Brenda was now alone with the veiled and insensible woman.

CHAPTER VIII.

BY CHANCE.

As soon as the officers had left the room, Feodor hastened to close the door after them carefully, to prevent any importunate intrusion.

He then searched thoroughly all the corners of the room, and behind the window-curtains, to make sure that no one was concealed there. He wished to be entirely undisturbed with the poor woman whose face he had not yet beheld, but toward whom he felt himself attracted by a singular, inexplicable sensation. As soon as he was convinced that he was quite alone, he went to her with flushed cheeks and a beating heart, and unveiled her.

But scarcely had he cast his eyes on her, when he uttered a cry, and staggered back with horror. This woman who lay there before him, lifeless and motionless, pale and beautiful as a broken flower, was none other than Elise Gotzkowsky, his beloved! He stood and stared at her; he pressed his hands to his forehead as if to rouse himself from this spell which had hold of him, as if to open his eyes to truth and reality. But it was no dream, no illusion. It was herself, his own Elise. He approached her, seized her hand, pa.s.sed his hands over her glossy hair, and looked at her long and anxiously. His blood rushed like a stream of fire to his heart, it seethed and burned in his head, in his veins; and, quite overcome, he sank down before her.

”It is she,” murmured he softly, ”it is Elise. Now she is mine, and no one can take her from me. She belongs to me, my wife, my beloved.

Fate itself bears her to my arms, and I were a fool to let her escape again.”

With pa.s.sionate impetuosity he pressed her to his heart, and covered her lips and face with his kisses. But the violence of his affection aroused Elise. Slowly and stunned she raised herself in his arms, and looked around, as if awakened from a dream. ”Where am I?” asked she, languidly.

Feodor, still kneeling before her, drew her more closely to his heart.

”You are with me,” said he, pa.s.sionately, and as he felt her trembling in his arms, he continued still more warmly: ”Fear nothing; my Elise, look not so timidly and anxiously about you. Look upon me, me, who am lying at your feet, and who ask nothing more from Fortune than that this moment should last an eternity.”

Elise scarcely understood him. She was still stunned--still confused by the dreams of her swoon. She pa.s.sed her hand over her forehead, and let it drop again list-less and powerless. ”My senses are confused,”

whispered she in a low voice, ”I do not hear; what has happened to me?”

”Do not ask, do not inquire,” cried Feodor, ardently. ”Think only that love has sent an angel to you, on whose wings you have reposed on your pa.s.sage hither to me. Why will you ask after the nature of the miracle, when the miracle itself brings delight to our eyes and hearts? Therefore, fear nothing, gentle, pure being. Like an angel do you come to me through the deluge of sin. You bear the olive-branch of peace, and love and happiness are before us.”

But as he was about to press her still more closely to his heart, a shudder pervaded her whole frame. ”Oh, now, I recollect,” she cried, vehemently; ”now I know all! I was alone in the garden. There came those terrible men. They seized me with their rude hands. They wounded my heart with their horrible looks, which made me shudder. Whither have they brought me? where am I?”

”You are with me,” said Feodor, carrying her hand to his lips.

For the first time, then, she looked at him--for the first time, she recognized him. A deep blush of joy suffused her cheeks, and an angelic smile beamed on her lips. She felt, she knew nothing further than that her lover was at her side, that he was not dead--that he was not lost to her. With an outcry of delight she threw herself into his arms, and greeted the lost, the found one, with warm and happy words of love. She raised her eyes and hands to heaven. ”Oh, my G.o.d, he lives!” cried she, exultingly. ”I thank Thee, G.o.d, I thank Thee. Thou hadst pity on my sufferings.”

”Love protected me,” said Feodor, gazing at her pa.s.sionately. ”Love saved me by a miracle. Still more miraculously, it brings you to my arms. Fear not, Elise. No other eye than mine has seen you. No one knows your name. That sweet secret, is only known to Love and ourselves.”

Elise trembled. This imprudent speech woke her out of the stupor which had so long had possession of her; it recalled her to the world, and dispelled the charm which his presence, his looks, and his words had thrown around her. She was now aroused, and hurried from a state of dreamy delight to one of cruel and dread reality. The ray of joy faded from her cheek, the smile died on her lips, and, extricating herself forcibly from his arms, she stood before him in her pride and anger.

”Feodor,” said she, terrified, ”you sent those fearful men! You caused me to be kidnapped!” With an angry, penetrating glance, she looked at Feodor, who sank his eyes in confusion to the ground.