The Undying Past Part 5

"It would be best," he said at last, "to row the 'gnadiger Herr' as far as the Isle of Friends.h.i.+p, which is halfway there."

Leo nodded. The Isle of Friends.h.i.+p! So well known was the tie which bound him and Ulrich together that their friends.h.i.+p had become a romance current amongst the people, so that even the name they had given in joke to the place where as boys they had loved best to meet, which they had never mentioned except to a few near relations, had grown into a geographical landmark for the public. Ah, but if they knew! If they could see the ghost which had arisen between them!

"Repent nothing," a voice cried out within him; and he struck the water with his clenched fist, till a fountain of glistening drops started up around him.

Old Jurgens nearly dropped his oars, in alarm, and stuttered out a query.

Leo laughed at him. "I didn't mean anything, old man," he said. "I was simply quarrelling with brother within."

"No good to be got out of him--maybe he's a devil," said the old ferryman, philosophically, and rowed on.

The boat had turned its keel down the river, which s.h.i.+mmered faintly as it wound along between the dusky blackness of the willow-bushes, now widening almost into a lake, then narrowing where a headland, like an outstretched knee, jutted darkly into the ripples.

The deep ruddy glow on the horizon now covered a smaller s.p.a.ce. A phosph.o.r.escent green, slashed with small silver-fringed clouds, slowly struggled higher and higher till it was lost in the dark blue of night.

The twilight of midnight, the dreamy magic of which is only known to men who have their homes in northern climes, was descending on the earth.

Just in front of the boat floated the raft, a huge ma.s.s reflected in the s.h.i.+ning water, with the smoke from smouldering brushwood curling softly upwards and hovering in the air above it. In a few minutes they overtook it. Figures crouching on the rafters raised their heads in languid curiosity and stared at the boat as it pa.s.sed. Red flames flickered still under the cauldron, and from within the straw-roofed cabin, rough as any rubbish-heap in the fields, came the sound of a woman's voice singing a plaintive ditty.

In about half an hour the black shadowy outline of an island reared itself from the middle of the gleaming mirror of water. It resembled a ma.s.sive flower-basket, for from the stony edge of its banks the ragged branches of the alders drooped far over into the stream.

This was it. At the sight of it a host of pictures and memories surged up from his heart's secret depths, where they had till now lain dormant, sent to sleep over and over again by the one grim, overshadowing thought that had brooded on his mind like a vulture, the deadening flap of whose wings had drowned for years all home voices and sentiment within him.

Leo started up, and sought with eager eyes to penetrate the thick boscage. But he could not descry a gleam of the white temple. It lay buried in the dusk of the trees. But there on the right bank were to be seen buildings black and ragged in outline; that was Uhlenfelde, the ancient, n.o.ble house where lanky Uli ruled as lord and master.

And beside him, as mistress---- "Be calm, don't think about it," he cried inwardly.

The boat took a sharp curve towards the left bank, where, amidst tall reeds, shone forth the white sand of a landing-place.

A few minutes later Leo was striding alone over the dewy meadows, from which there rose a sweet scent so thick and heavy one could almost grasp it with the hand. At his feet, to right and left, a thousand gra.s.shoppers kept up a lively chorus. The little creatures, startled by his footsteps, hopped on like heralds before him, and in the branches of the elms which studded the meadow path he fancied that he heard from time to time a rustling whisper of welcome. A wilderness of blossom rioted in the uncut hedges. The honeysuckle bells swept his hands, and a thick rank growth of bindweed and runnet twined about his feet. A fine moisture sprinkled his brow refres.h.i.+ngly. He stood still and looked round him. All was his property as far as his eye could reach in the summer twilight. He was overcome by a sense of shame. This soft, warm nest, designed by a kind Providence, as it seemed, for his especial comfort, had he not, more thoughtlessly, it is true, than heartlessly, been ready to sacrifice it to the first stranger who came along?

A lofty consciousness of inherited possessions, the beauty of the summer night, and the nearness of home, combined to inspire and soften him. He pulled off his cap, folded his hands over the warm bowl of his pipe and prayed, with tears pouring down his cheeks. It was a man, ripe and strong, moderately gifted, but full of common sense, knowing well what he had learnt from life, what he might do and might not, who came thus boldly into the presence of his Maker and spoke frankly to Him.

When he had done, he puffed vigorously at his cooling pipe, and in a serene mood walked towards the ancestral seat of the Sellenthins, which greeted him out of the shadows.

IV

He came to a standstill at the gate-house. As he was about to pull the bell, a din of singing voices fell on his ear, interrupted by guttural laughter and applause, which elicited a new and more confused outburst of song. The noise seemed to proceed from the bailiff's house, which was the dwelling of Uncle Kutowski as well as of the two bailiffs.

Presumably the stream of light, which till now had been concealed from his eyes by the gate-post, came from the same quarter.

"They manage to have a rollicking good time of it without me at Halewitz, evidently," he said to himself, frowning, and was going to climb over the wall near the wicket gate, when he remembered in time the broken bottle-gla.s.s stuck in the cement of the bastions for the reception of thieves and tramps.

There was nothing to be done but to slink round in the shadow of the park wall to the little secret garden door which once had been contrived for him by Uncle Kutowski, so that his excursions by night should not come to his father's ears. Of course it was an understood thing that in so zealously rendering this service. Uncle Kutowski also acted in his own interest, for he too had had good reasons for keeping his nocturnal adventures private and unbeknown to the master of the house.

Leo paced slowly along the dry moat which skirted the park, and over which the hundred-year-old limes of Halewitz cast the shade of their dark ma.s.ses of foliage, till he came to the spot which he supposed was only known to himself and to his uncle. But, to his vexation and amazement, he saw that the little door was standing wide open, and, worse still, the wilderness of brambles and gooseberry bushes which, on the inner side, had almost buried the approach to the exit, had been uprooted and levelled and replaced by a convenient gravel path that seemed to invite alluringly any evil-disposed person to the privy door.

"Thus do our old vices punish us," thought Leo; and he recalled with a stab at his heart the period of his life when at this door, night after night, there stood ready for him a saddled horse, which Uncle Kutowski had procured for him, and which towards morning would be driven out to gra.s.s, sweating and covered with foam.

"Wait a bit, you scoundrels," he muttered betwixt his teeth; "I'll show you which is the right path."

There were still lights illuminating the windows of the castle that faced the flower-parterre. A broad stone terrace ran nearly the whole length of the rambling building, and old vines which never bore fruit draped the bal.u.s.trade. In the middle of the terrace a flight of dilapidated steps, flanked by two pock-marked nymphs in sandstone, led down to the garden. The gla.s.s doors of the garden salon were open, and the hanging lamp with its three sconces lighted the table, from which supper had been cleared away, and sent a warm red glow across the terrace as far as the venerable heads of the nymphs, whose fragile profiles it touched with gold.

Leo walked as softly as the crunching gravel and his own vigorous footsteps would allow, towards the light. He avoided the wooden kiosque, the white plaster pillars of which, seen from the opposite side, gave a finish to the perspective of the landscape, and rounding the fish-pond, from whose slimy depths rose a soft gurgling, he banged his head against the obelisk. It was a stupid erection of brickwork and mortar, with a bronze tablet let into the middle, recording for posterity the heroic deeds of Standard-bearer Fritz von Sellenthin at the battle of Hohenfriedberg.

"A pity the storms have not demolished this bric-a-brac," thought Leo, as he rubbed the lump on his forehead with a pained smile.

At this moment there appeared framed in the brightly illuminated doorway two girlish figures with their arms round each other. They moved forward with a lazy rocking motion, and the gold rays of the lamp flashed on their heads and outlined the shadows cast by the two slender young forms with a narrow line of light.

They had flung on _negligee_ attire with the ingenuous freedom of a pair of young virgins who feel secure in there being no man in the house, and presented themselves in dressing-jackets and with flowing tresses. One was nearly a head taller than the other, and a reddish gleam shot from the loosened plaits which floated over her head and shoulders. By daylight she would probably be a brunette. The shorter girl displayed unmistakably the famous Sellenthin gold in her blond locks.

For a moment it seemed as if they were going to descend into the garden, and Leo quickly took refuge in the shadow of the terrace wall, where he would be hidden from view by the vine espalier. But they stayed up above after all, seating themselves on the bal.u.s.trade, and swinging their feet so that when they touched the ground a shower of dust, sand, and little stones fell on his head. The two girls gazed down into the garden, and looking up he could see the dainty s.h.i.+ning oval of their faces bent towards him. He felt a little nervous at his post of observation. It was innocent schoolgirl chatter that he overheard, intermingled with kisses and giggles.

In one of the voices, which sounded low and m.u.f.fled, there was a caressing note like the cooing of a dove. The other was a rich, full alto, which seemed to well forth from the depths of the speaker's chest; this fulness of tone was accentuated by the hard _r_, slightly reminiscent of the stable. With some difficulty he recalled his little sister in the first voice, and concluded that the other belonged to Johanna's step-daughter, the rich little heiress whom his mother had kept bewitched in the ancient castle for his especial benefit.

They talked of clothes, girl friends, and books; of getting up early, of milking and poultry-feeding; and finally they began to talk about himself. The letter from Buenos Ayres, which must have arrived that morning, was evidently in their minds. Johanna's step-daughter revealed to her little companion energetic plans, which convinced him that mamma had already begun her angling for the goldfish.

"Do you know what I shall do, Mouse?" said she. "I shall write to my guardian, the old judge, and ask him for the money necessary to fit out an expedition. Then I shall go with it to South America, and look for him, and paint Halewitz in such glowing colours that he'll get homesick and come back to Europe. And directly we reach Halewitz, I shall say, 'Now my mission is ended. Good-bye.'"

"In your place," suggested Elly, "I should marry him."

"I shall never marry," replied Hertha. "I am an orphan, and shall go into a convent."

Leo closed his eyes with an amused smile. This charming nonsense was music to him. Meanwhile, the drunken merriment in the bailiff's house grew louder. At the sound of it, Hertha spoke her mind with a will.

"It is a shame that an end cannot be put to such mismanagement. The master roams about the world, and his estates are going to ruin."

"Do you think it really is so bad as that?" asked Elly, anxiously.

"It is so bad that it couldn't be worse. Look at Ulrich Kletzingk's face when he rides over here. But he can do nothing. It was not he who was given full authority, but beautiful Uncle Kutowski. If I could, I would hound that fellow out of the place with a horse-whip."

"Spoken like a thorough good chap," thought Leo. "I'll have her for my wife, and then they'll find there'll be the devil to pay." Yet, at the same moment, anxiety on account of his neglected property weighed heavily upon his soul. The chorus of a drinking-song struck up opposite, the refrain ending in a cadence of hiccoughs. Leo's fists itched, but he controlled himself, for he did not wish to spoil the humour of the situation.

"I am afraid that _he_ is there too," Elly whispered hesitatingly.

Leo was all attention.

"Of course he is there," Hertha laughed, with a ring of scorn in her voice; "he is certain to be wherever there is anything low going on."

"Don't always wound my feelings," Elly complained. "You know how gone I am on him."

"Hum! so the little one has begun already," thought Leo, and resolved to speak to her seriously, for falling in love was a Sellenthin family weakness.

"You may be gone on him as much as you like," replied Hertha, "but he should be open and above board, and not sneak over here behind people's backs when he comes to see Uncle Kutowski. That is scarcely fitting behaviour on the part of one we honour with our admiration."

"But what else is he to do?" asked Elly, in a troubled voice. "If mamma saw him she would tell Ulrich that he was hanging about. And the last time he only came through the park to serenade me. And that song, 'The Smiling Stars,' he composed especially for me. He told me so. And what he said about the serenade was, 'I was a little elated by wine, gracious Fraulein, otherwise I should certainly not have had the courage.' He always speaks so modestly and politely. He is quite out of the common."