Part 30 (1/2)

”Which never can be. Dear, dear Gotthold, let me say to you what my husband would have said if he were here: Never! He will never yield if you go to him so, alone and helpless, without the bailiff and myrmidons of the law; you must be able to prove that you have him completely in your power, and that is not the case now. My husband said yesterday evening: 'If we could only confront him with Scheel. There is really nothing to be done without him; but where is Scheel? Perhaps at the bottom of the Dollan mora.s.s.' Ah! my dear friend, stay away from this den of murderers.”

”And ought I to leave her there?” exclaimed Gotthold. ”Woe betide me for having done so until now, for not having risked everything to take her away with me, her and her child, for it was only the child that detained her, and he would have sold the child too if I had had head and heart enough to offer him the right price. Now I can offer nothing except a mortal struggle; but I am sure, and he knows very well, that I shall not be conquered this time. Forgive me, my dear friend, for using so many words where acts would beseem me better, and--farewell.”

Ottilie burst into tears. ”And you,” she exclaimed, ”my dear, dear friend. Ah! yes, you must go, you must risk all if you love Cecilia, and that you did love her--I knew long ago, and my good Emil knew it, and--and--Emil would not act otherwise in your place, believe me, whatever he may have said before, and may say after! He knows what pa.s.sionate love is, nay, he would make no objections if he were eight and twenty, and in your place! But I can't help it if I am not as beautiful and intellectual as your dear dead mother was; and besides, I was not even in existence thirty years ago, and there are much more unhappy married couples than we, and, and--may you and your Cecilia be as happy!”

She embraced and kissed Gotthold very warmly, and then stood at the open window letting the rain drip upon her tear-stained face as she waved her handkerchief while his carriage jolted over the rough pavement.

In spite of all the delays, it was still nearly an hour before sunset when Gotthold left Prora, and the horses stepped out bravely; he must surely reach Dollan before dark. He repeated this to himself several times in the course of the next hour, and then reflected why he constantly recurred to this calculation over and over again, and what difference it made whether he reached Dollan before or after dark. He could find no answer, and even as he sought for one, said to himself once more: ”Thank G.o.d, I shall get there before dark!” Were his thoughts beginning to get confused? That would be bad; his head would probably have much to bear to-day, then his anxious eyes wandered to the heavy clouds, wet stubble, and black fields, and he murmured: ”It will grow dark earlier than I expected,” and as if the obstinacy of the idea required a corresponding idea, even if it were a mild one, he added: ”I shall not find her.”

And now he could not shake off the new idea: he would not find her. As if she would hide herself from him, and he would be obliged to seek her in vain because it was too dark.

Or was all this only nonsense, such as arises in the confused brain of a man who for hours has jolted alone in a damp chaise, over rough country roads, staring out into the murky atmosphere, which grew grayer and denser every minute. Was it the terrible type of a terrible possibility. Hinrich Scheel had taken Brandow's horse when he came home, and two hours after Hinrich Scheel had disappeared. Now he had been at home at least four hours; so he had had twice as much time.

Gotthold tore away the curtain which was still fastened on one side; it seemed as if he was suffocating. At last! there was the smithy close before him; he would see and speak to the worthy Prebrows; they lived so near that they could surely tell him they had seen and spoken to her a short time before.

The smithy was lonely and deserted; several hours must have pa.s.sed since the bellows, had been used: a thick covering of ashes lay over the dead coals. It seemed as if the father and son, who lived alone in the old-fas.h.i.+oned little house, had just run away from their work. The piece of iron they had last been forging still lay on the anvil, the pincers and hammer were close beside it on the ground, as if they had been suddenly thrown down to rush out of the door, which stood wide open. The driver was very indignant; one of the springs of the chaise was almost broken. He had depended upon getting the injury repaired here so that it should go no farther. Gotthold told the lad to follow him slowly, he would go forward on foot.

He could not have waited a moment longer; the sight of the deserted smithy had infinitely increased the terrible anxiety which had tortured him all the way. He hurried up the ascending road over the moor, without heeding the rain that the wind drove into his face with redoubled violence as he walked hastily on, his eyes always fixed upon the nearest hillock which lay before him, and seemed inaccessible. Then he stood panting for breath on the top of the slope, but his view on the right was no clearer; a gray mist from the mora.s.s floated nearer and nearer, was so near already that the rugged side of the next hillock gleamed very dimly through the drizzling vapor, and he scarcely recognized the scene of the accident. On reaching the bottom he remembered that by keeping close to the edge one might pa.s.s between the hill and mora.s.s, so he left the height on the left, and took that course.

But as he turned towards the marsh he entered farther and farther into the fog that had now spread over the bog like a heaving gray sea, and whirled against the steep acclivity like surges dashed by a violent wind against the cliffs.

While the height on the left obstructed his view, and on the right he gazed into the gray mist, which scarcely permitted him to see where to set his feet, the terrible dread increased at every step; it seemed as if every moment the misty curtain must rise to reveal the horrible picture it now concealed, and the height against which it pressed was only there that he might not escape the scene. And there it was!

Gotthold stood trembling and staring into the mist with eyes fairly starting from their sockets. It could have been nothing but a trick of his over-excited fancy, for he now saw nothing, nothing at all, and yet he had seen it with perfect distinctness: four or five figures standing in a circle, thrusting long poles into the mora.s.s--misty spectres!

No, no; no spectres! Or else ghosts could speak with human voices, which he clearly distinguished, although he could not understand the words, and now he even caught a few.

”Could it possibly be here?”

”No, it was not possible--it was certain; he now knew why he had been so alarmed.”

The next moment, with a single bound, he had dashed through the tall sedges which, at this spot, enclosed the mora.s.s with a broad girdle; the thin covering of turf rose and fell under him--he did not notice it; again and again the water dashed up under his flying feet--he did not heed it; his eyes pierced the mist in the direction from which he had heard the voices, and now heard them again still nearer; and now the figures, which a rift in the mist had just revealed to him, appeared again; he reached them.

”Cousin Boslaf!”

”Stand farther away, and you others, too! There are too many of us here; the ground won't bear, and I can do it alone.”

They stepped back; again and again the old man let the long pole, furnished with an iron hook, slide cautiously down into the water which had here formed a small dark pool amid the rushes and nodding gra.s.s.

Then he drew it out and gave it to one of the men. ”There is nothing here. This was the last place, we will go back; keep close behind me; and you too, Gotthold. Tread in my footsteps.”

The old man, holding his gun on his shoulder, walked forward with the long, regular stride of a huntsman, till the others, among whom was Clas Prebrow, Jochen's brother, found it difficult to keep up with him.

He paused several times, and seemed to be trying the ground; but it was only for a few moments, then he moved on into the mist. The men followed without hesitation; they knew they could go on calmly if Cousin Boslaf led the way; and now the ground became firmer and firmer; they were on the very spot from which they had started an hour ago.

Cousin Boslaf called Gotthold to his side.

”Since when?” asked Gotthold.

”At two o'clock this morning; the dogs have been keen on her track; I knew it first three hours ago.”