Part 16 (1/2)
They now flowed in a fiery stream from his lips and kindled a responsive flame in Danira's soul. Her strength could no longer hold out against this language of pa.s.sion, and when Gerald approached her a second time, she did not shrink from him, though the hand he clasped trembled in his.
”Perhaps I may bring you death!” she said softly, but with deep sorrow.
”It is my destiny to cause misfortune everywhere. Had I left Cattaro even a few weeks earlier, we should never have seen each other and you would have been happy by Edith's side. I know she merely entrenched herself behind caprices and obstinacy; her heart belongs to the man who was destined to be her husband. It is the first true, deep feeling of her life, the awakening from the dream of childhood. She is now experiencing her first bitter grief--through me. And yet she is the only creature I have ever loved.”
She tried to withdraw her hand, but in vain. He would not release it, and only bent toward her, so close that his breath fanned her cheek.
”The only creature? Danira, shall not even this hour bring us truth?
Who knows how short may be the span of life allotted to me? I do not believe Obrevic's fierceness and thirst for vengeance will be stayed by this spot, and am prepared to fall a victim to his fury. But I must once more hear my name from your lips as you uttered it just now. You must not refuse that request. If, even now, in the presence of death, they sternly withhold the confession of love, be it so, I will not ask it--but you must call me what my mother calls me--you must say this once: 'Gerald.'”
His voice trembled with pa.s.sionate entreaty. It seemed vain, for Danira remained silent and motionless a few seconds longer. At last she slowly turned her face to his, and gazing deep into his eyes, said:
”Gerald!”
It was only one word, yet it contained all--the confession so ardently desired, the most absolute devotion, the cry of happiness, and with an exclamation of rapturous joy Gerald clasped the woman he loved to his breast.
The storm raged above them, and mortal peril waved dark wings over their heads; but amid the tempest and the shadow of death a happiness was unfolded which swallowed up every memory of the past, every thought of the future. Gerald and Danira no longer heeded life or death, and had a b.l.o.o.d.y end confronted them at that moment they would have faced it with radiant joy in their hearts.
”I thank you!” said Gerald, fervently, but without releasing the girl from his embrace. ”Now, come what may, I am prepared.”
The words recalled Danira to the reality of their situation; she started.
”You are right, we must meet what is coming; I must go.”
”Go! At the moment we have found each other? And am I to let you face a peril I cannot share?”
Danira gently but firmly released herself from his arms.
”You are in danger, Gerald, not I, for I know every path of my 'mountain home,' and shall avoid Marco, who has now had time to reach the village. Have no fear, your safety is at stake, I will be cautious.
Yet, before I go, promise me not to leave the Vila spring; let no stratagem, no threat lure you away. Here alone can you and your companion find safety and deliverance, one step beyond that rock gateway and you will be lost.”
The young officer gazed anxiously and irresolutely at the speaker.
True, he told himself that she would be safe; even if she met his pursuers no one would suspect whence she came or where she was going, and a pretext was easily found. If she remained with him she must share his fate and perhaps be the first victim of her tribe's revenge, yet it was unspeakably difficult for him to part from the happiness he had scarcely won.
”I will not leave the spring,” he answered. ”Do you think I want to die now? I never so loved life as at this moment when my Danira is its prize, and I am ready to fight for it--I shall be fighting for my happiness and future.”
His glance again sought hers, which no longer shunned it, but the large dark eyes rested on his features with a strange expression--a look at once gentle, yet gloomy and fraught with pain; it had not a ray of the happiness so brightly evident in his words.
”The price[1] of your life!” she repeated. ”Yes, Gerald, I will be that with my whole heart, and now--farewell!”
”Farewell! G.o.d grant that you may reach the fort safely; once there my comrades will know how to protect my preserver from the vengeance of her people.”
He spoke unsuspiciously and tenderly, but he must have unwittingly stirred those dark depths in the girl's nature, which were mysterious even to him. Danira started as though an insult had been hurled in her face; the old fierceness seemed about to break forth again, but it was only a moment ere the emotion was suppressed.
”I need their protection as little as I fear the vengeance directed against myself alone! Farewell, Gerald; once more--farewell!”
The young officer again clasped her in his arms. He did not hear the pain of parting in the words, only the deep, devoted love, still so new to him from Danira. But she scarcely allowed him a moment for his leave-taking, but tore herself away, as if she feared to prolong it.